Michael lay in the dark with Tatae in his arms, warmly spooning with her back against him while she slept, exhausted. Unused to cuddling anyone, and with his terrible bruising, he woke often. While he should have been thinking of the certain conflict with the Vikings, all he could think of was Tatae.

What in God’s name was he doing? Hurley’s presence had been like a dash of cold water onto his face. Mission parameters did not address relationships with locals as there was little to no real chance of that happening. Yet, despite his professional regard, Michael had allowed himself to be drawn into the local life, and most importantly, to allow them to be drawn into his. The Traveller team’s training concentrated so much on the importance of becoming one of the locals, of becoming a real Saxon, that nobody thought what would happen if one was successful. Perhaps it was because he was alone, that mission requirements of longer-term research meant personal relationships were inevitable. He could not deny the close relationship he had with Brother Oeric and his fondest regard and admiration for Abbott Aldfrid, whom Michael had not yet even had time to mourn. Then there was the family of Godric, the closest thing to a real family Michael had ever had. He had been in Saxon England for over two months and had fallen in love with this amazing woman, who had also fallen in love with him.

He kissed her lightly on the back of the neck, a gentle caress that had her grunt quietly and snuggle closer.

There was always the impression that there was more to Tatae than mere appearances. She had a certainty and strength that was rare in any age, and when their passionate time in the forest came to mind, which was often, he thought of the presences he had imagined. These were, of course, a result of the smoke, which was obviously some kind of narcotic, but they were also a testament to the power of Tatae’s belief. Since that day, he felt as if a gateway had opened in his mind, so when he held the amulet she had given him, he sensed more clearly when danger was present and felt the forest as more alive, almost sentient. He had also sensed Tatae was safe and often dreamt of her. It was difficult to describe and was never mentioned in his reports. It was as if Tatae, through her belief in the old Gods, had created a bond between them that was more a testament to the untapped resources of the mind than the actions of any ancient deity. It was only when he encountered the rapists that Michael finally conceded he had fallen in love. It was the thought of their actions being directed against Tatae that caused him to behave as he did. He felt a rightness about being with her that was not infatuation, but that didn’t mitigate the conflict between their relationship and his mission.

She sensed him stir and moaned quietly as she snuggled her bare bottom in tighter. Her mass of blonde hair was almost like a blanket upon which she slept and he smiled at the infinite care she spent on it. She had a scent, indefinable and sensual, not only of her herbal toiletries, but of her body, her sex. Michael wondered if the 21st Century western world missed out on real sensuality. He had once heard the comment that so much effort was taken to wash off personal scents and then have those scents replaced by deodorants and perfumes. Though he was not in the best position to judge smell and hygiene, the myth of stinky Saxons didn’t seem justifiable. Perhaps it was because he hardly noticed body odours anymore.

His mind was too active and he was busting for a pee, so he decided to rise and check all was well. The night was chill as he slipped from their bed, causing Tatae to groan lightly and reach for him. He bent and kissed her, telling her he’d be back soon, so she snuggled back into their warm bed. With a light heart, he struggled to find clothes worth wearing and walked out into the night, clad only in breeches and tunic.

Ignoring the icy cold, he quickly found one of the sentry pairs who pointed him silently to Hurley, who had also arisen. Michael found him chatting quietly with Hengist and one of the other village lads on watch. After silent greetings, Hurley and Michael left the lads and walked closer to the makeshift village. There was no fire to sit by, but for those in the women’s cavern, so they sat on a couple of rocks and passed pleasantries. As Hurley wrapped his woollen cloak around him, Michael realised Hurley had a watch on his wrist that showed it was just past four o’clock.

“Have you been wearing that all along?” asked Michael in surprise. The watch was a rugged brand favoured by most Special Forces, incongruous in the Saxon world.

“Aye, I slipped it into my pack. Never thought I’d use it, but there you go.”

Michael chuckled. “It took me a while to notice. There are some things I can’t live without, but I’m surprised at how easily I’ve become comfortable without them.” Some moments passed in silent thought. “There’s a close family feel here, like something I’ve never really had, and it’s dangerous enough to be interesting: appealing even. Know what I mean?” He looked at the stars far above as clouds threatened to cover them again. A breeze blew and he shivered.

“Aye, I do,” Hurley admitted quietly. “I find it’s like being at home at times. This mob seem lovely though, real friendly. I’ve only been here a day and they treat me like I’ve been here forever,” Hurley murmured. “When I think about it, I realise these people are probably some of my ancestors—and yours.”

“What do you miss most, Hurley? You’ve been here on and off,” asked Michael. He could not see Hurley’s face, merely a shadow.

“Well, aye, I did go back for a week. After a month, I’d had enough. I was sent back here though because there was a thought you might need a hand.” He smiled with a pale flash of teeth.

“Really? Funny, but I didn’t even hear anything of your travel experiences. How’d you go? We’ll have to talk about that and compare notes, because you’ll have a lot to tell.”

Hurley grunted. “Aye, there was a lot alright. It took me longer to become accepted than you, it seems.”

“Some troubles?”

Hurley paused. “Some: not like you though.”

It was Michael’s time to grunt. “And Murdoch let you come back?” he asked.

Hurley chuckled. “Well, not without a fight. I was the only one who knew the place, so it had to be me. It was the rapists. The whole episode had them in a lather. Your footage was actually very graphic and, well, they thought it prudent to offer you a hand.”

Michael nodded. “And then there was the battle by the river.”

“That had them shitting themselves, you know,” smiled Hurley. “I was all ready to travel back when they received your data. They normally give video footage a quick scan as soon as they receive it because the data they upload is prodigious. It took them a few hours and they called me in a panic. When I initially went home, Helen had been in the States helping the Yanks sort out a project they want to get started. This Saxon Traveller has started a fucking shit-fight, you know, and everyone wants to get in on the act. Well, she was on the next plane out, of course, but by the time she was back in the UK, I had only a day with her to debrief.

Michael chuckled. “Is that what you call it?”

Hurley just smiled.

Michael thought a moment. “What did you miss most when you were here before?”

Hurley paused and thought. “Well, Helen of course.”

“Ok, of course. But what else?”

“Well, something I am ashamed to admit.”

“That sounds interesting,” muttered Michael.

Hurley chuckled. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“No way. This sounds too juicy. Come on, old mate, you can’t back out now.”

There was a pause. The cold of the night was beginning to bite. “I would have killed for a McDonalds burger.”

“Oh, bullshit! You know that’s crap.” Michael chuckled.

“No, seriously. You know how it is. When I was in Afghanistan, I was dying for my old nan’s Yorkshire pudding, but here, for some reason I just wanted a Big Mac, or something like that.” Hurley stretched and smiled. “After this thing’s all sorted, I think it’ll be time for me to get on home for good.”

Michael simply nodded.

“What do you miss then, Hunter?”

Michael thought a moment. “Well, I was going to say peaches, apricots, soap, electric lights, hot chips, oranges or tacos, but for some reason, I don’t miss them. I would kill for a coffee though—a good one.”

Hurley chuckled and spoke quietly into the night. “She’s a gem.”

Michael nodded. “That she is, my old mate. That she is.” He had expected some comment and wasn’t sure how to answer the questions that would undoubtedly follow. After a pause, he murmured, “It was hard, Hurley. Some of those monks were my close friends. The Abbott was a great man, a holy man. If that fate was to happen to these people, to Tatae, and I could help but didn’t, I don’t think I could bear it.”

Hurley nodded and was silent for a while. He then asked, “Hunter, can I ask what the fuck you’re doing here? I wouldn’t be sitting with a bastard like me when that warm little body’s waiting for you. We’re fine, mate. Do us a favour and piss-off for a while. I’ll see you when it gets lighter.”

Michael nodded his thanks, grateful for what Hurley didn’t say. He silently crept back to Tatae’s little love-nest and undressed, eager to be back into the warmth. She snuggled into him and complained quietly that he felt cold. He had to make sure his icy feet didn’t touch her. No relationship can manage that.

And then, he slept.

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