Someone knocks softly, waking me from a dream where I was talking with a dragon that seemed so real. Rising out of bed, I remove the dried cloth from my forehead and walk over to the door. I press the lever and release the latch, pulling the door open. Anna is there to greet me, carrying a tray of cheese and bread with a small pitcher and two glass cups.
“Are you hungry?” she asks as she strolls into the room, putting the tray on the sofa table. Her dark red hair, braided in a crown, falls to her waist. She wears an elegant green dress that drapes down to just above her embroidered slippers, with a blue sash tied around her thin waist.
“I could eat something,” I say, grabbing my shirt off the wardrobe hook. I slip it on and glance into a mirror hanging on the wall that I hadn’t noticed before. “Whoa!”
I see a tall redhead male with dark hazel eyes, about eighteen years old, staring back at me.
“Everything alright?” she asks, setting down the tray.
I remember that I leapt into this body. “No problem. Just surprised to see the swelling gone.”
“The doctor works miracles. He was looking after us in the last plague twenty years ago. Everyone survived, thanks be to God.”
“He must. I feel better.”
“Do you remember who you are?”
I think about it, realizing I still have no memory of this life, and lie just a little. “I think I am remembering some, but it may be a while before it all comes back.”
Who am I kidding? I have the mind of a sixty-year-old trapped in a teenager’s body. I have no memory of his life.
“Maybe if someone can show me around, some of my memory may return.”
“Here, take a bit of bread and cheese.” She pours from the pitcher into a cup. “You look better. Sure, the doctor wouldn’t mind you having a small glass of wine. The water is deadly today.”
That water Aodhán gave me certainly tasted foul. I’ve heard of bad water in medieval times, and it was better to drink alcohol. It will probably ease my tension as well. I haven’t thought about the hospital trip since I came here. I don’t know if I died or what, but this may be my second lease on life.
I sit on the sofa and sip the wine. It actually tastes pleasant. It has a sweetness to it that tastes like peaches. “Wow! This is the best-tasting wine I’ve had in a long time. Where did you get it?”
“We have a vineyard outside the city. I brought the peach wine since you always like it best.” She slices a little cheese, put it on a fresh bread slice, and hands it to me. “Here, take this, you need to eat.”
“Of course,” I say as I grab what she offered and eat it. I didn’t know how hungry I was.
“We will have dinner in a few hours. Lamb is roasting in the kitchen.”
I should get to know who I am in this life since it doesn’t look like I will be going home anytime soon. “Where is my father?”
Anna looks at me with soft eyes. “He’s gone to meet the English king a few weeks back.”
“You look concerned?”
“He’s getting old. The English king is asking far too much of him.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The king relies on him to uphold the law. People are angry.”
“How come?”
“He just taken the taxes for the king, and people are starving.”
“Taxes?” I ask, not knowing Ireland’s history. “Why are the Irish paying taxes?”
“This land is belonging to the king.”
I shake my head and drink the last of my wine. “It doesn’t make sense that the English king is ruling Ireland.”
“Ah, I agree. This land won’t heal until we become friends with the Irish.”
I shake my head realizing that England rules Ireland. But there isn’t anything I can do about it. No wonder Ireland is struggling in my time.
My headache is gone and I want to see more of this place. “Can you show me around?”
“I have some business to attend to, but Aisling will show you.” She stands up to leave.
“Thank you for the food and wine.” I walk with her and open the door.
“Sure, you’re my son. Let me know if you need anything.”
I close the door when she leaves and look around the room. It is larger than I am accustomed to for a bedroom, with a bed, lounge area and fireplace. I go back to the mirror and take another look at the body I inherited. The boy has red hair nicely groomed over his ears down to his broad shoulders, and no pot belly. I lift the tunic and see he has a trim waist and toned muscles. That’s when I hear a knock on the door. I walk over and open it, finding Aisling waiting.
“I hear you were looking for a tour of your home. Is that right?” She lifts her eyebrows as if questioning my sanity.
“I know it sounds strange, but I am struggling to remember my life here. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. It’ll be fun!” Her eyes sparkle, with a subtle smile. She enters the room and picks up the tray of food and the poultice. “Let’s start by going to the kitchen.”
I slip into a pair of leather slippers and follow Aisling out into the hall, down the stairs, and around the Greek goddess, gazing up at its alabaster face.
Aisling continues walking to the rear of the house and starts down another set of stairs. When we get to the bottom, she enters a side corridor that appears to be an extension of the house. My stomach growls at the aroma of freshly made bread and roasting lamb. A round loaf of bread is baking in a domed oven above the fireplace, and a section of lamb is roasting on a spit above the fire. Aisling sets the tray on a wooden counter with other dirty dishes, where a boy is bringing in a pot of steaming water and dumps it in the washbasin.
“So, this is the kitchen,” Aisling says. “They’re making the dinner.”
I didn’t realize it took so much to cook. I am used to maybe a five-minute preparation for meals. This is real work. And to deal with the butchering of a lamb. My humanitarian side would say to skip the lamb and stick to potatoes, but the lamb had already been sacrificed.
Clodagh is in the kitchen, slicing green onions, wearing an apron, with a bonnet covering her hair.
“Lord John,” Clodagh says. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“We are happy that you are here,” I say. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“I’m already in your debt.”
“No, you are free. Don’t forget that. You are our guest.”
She nods and turns back to the counter.
After Aisling told me all the people working here are servants, I am confused about Clodagh’s station. Do they also consider her a servant? It doesn’t seem right.
“Does your mother work here?” I ask Aisling.
“Ah sure, but she’s not well.” She turns and leaves the kitchen.
I follow her up the stairs to the main entry. “I saw you admiring the statue. That’s Athena, goddess of war, wisdom and justice. She’s the guardian of this house.”
“I remember seeing her at the Parthenon,” I say before I realize that was the replica in Tennessee.
“You probably read about her. You grew up with her here in your entry.”
“You’re right. My memory is still a bit confused.”
“Do you want to see the stables?”
“Of course,” I say. “I want to see it all.”
“Okay. Keep up.”
I follow Aisling as she briskly heads towards the rear of the house and out the back entrance. We come out onto a landing with several stone steps leading down into a courtyard. Horses are grazing nearby from a haystack. Timber pens keep several sheep, and chickens roam freely. The courtyard has a large arched entrance with a gate and a stone shelter where a guard is standing watch.
About twenty sheep are lying in their corral with twice as many lambs. The sheep are covered in thick fleece, ready to be shorn.
“What are the sheep for?” I ask.
“We spin their wool for blankets and clothes,” she says as she gives me a hard stare. “When are you going to stop this nonsense?”
I step back, arching my brow. She is visibly upset. “I am sorry. Did I offend you?”
“Ah, go on and offend me! Sure you had me pulled behind the stable only yesterday, trying to have your way with me.”
“I did?” My eyes open wide in disbelief. “You’re pretty, but I would never have taken advantage of you. Were we dating?”
“You were always going on about us escaping this place and setting up a home for ourselves. But sure, you were only telling me lies.”
“How so?” I ask as I follow her to the stable.
“Your mother told me you are to be married to the Mercers’ daughters. I saw you with her at the dance the other night, sure, it was plain to see she had you spellbound.”
“Honestly, I don’t remember any of this.”
Then she turns and grabs my hand, pulling me into the stable. “Maybe you’d remember this,” she says as she kisses me on the lips.
She tastes like mint, and my mind is lost in a whirlwind. Then I remember I am married and pull back.
“Wait!” I say, catching my breath. “Wait a minute! We can’t do this!”
“Why not?”
“Well—because—” I stumble over my words. Maybe it won’t hurt if I tell her. “Because I’m married.” There, I say it.
“You’re what?!” she exclaims with shock and surprise. “When?”
I risk telling her the truth. “I don’t have any of John’s memories, but I remember living another life where I’m married.”
“That’s the lump on your head talking,” she says as she gazes into my eyes. “Don’t you remember anything from the kiss? Don’t you remember us at all?”
I look into her hopeful eyes and search my memory but remember nothing. “Sorry, I wish I did, but I don’t remember.” Then I hear a bell ring.
“It’s time to get you ready for dinner,” Aisling says, losing her smile. We leave the stable.
I walk with Aisling back through the courtyard, returning to the house. We don’t talk. The air is filled with awkward silence. Even the sheep are quiet. We hurry back into the grand house.
She leads me to my room. “Sir, you will need to wash up and change for dinner. There will be guests.”
“Okay,” I say as I look around the room and see a wardrobe. “Can you help me find something to wear?”
“Sure, my lord.” She opens the wardrobe.
I can feel this air of tension between us, or maybe she is getting herself back into character for her role. Either way, it is awkward. She pulls out a green tunic with horses embroidered on the chest and braided tassels. She also pulls out black woolen trousers from the shelf.
“Ah, wear this. It suits you. I’ll be waiting outside when you’re ready.” She leaves the room and closes the door.
Noticing a pitcher of water and a brick of soap, I pour some water into the basin, remove my clothes, and wash myself. I look in the wardrobe and pull out an undergarment, then pull on the woolen trousers, and slip into the tunic. A strip of leather hangs from a hook in the wardrobe. I wrap it around the tunic and tie it around my waist. I open the door and find Aisling waiting.
“Will this work?” I ask.
Aisling adjusts my belt, then combs my hair, which was a little rough for my liking. After pulling my hair back into a ponytail, she binds it with a leather tie. Then she grabs a nice pair of cuffed black leather boots and socks off the wardrobe shelf, handing them to me. “Put these on, my lord.”
“You don’t have to address me so formally,” I say, trying to ease some of the tension.
“It is expected of me, sir,” she says as she blushes a little. “Sorry for being so forward with you earlier.”
I slip on the woolen socks and boots, standing up to see how they feel, pacing the room. The boots are snug but should be okay for dinner. “Thank you for helping. I think I am ready.”
“Sir, this is what a maidservant does. Come with me to the big room.”
“Will you be joining us?”
“No, sir. The servants eat separately.”
“Okay. Thanks,” I say, following Aisling down the stairs to the main floor. Double doors are on the far side of the entry that I hadn’t noticed before.
Aisling points to the door. “You’ll dine in there, my lord.” She leaves before I have a chance to say goodbye.