Elysian Fields
Early June, 1357
Someone kicked Roger’s foot.
“Why’d you wake me?” He woke from his nap groggy and more tired than when he dozed off. He didn’t often remember his dreams but the one Oliver had awakened him from was vivid in his head. He’d dreamt he was in the nearby river, swimming to where Electra was in Wales. In real life, he couldn’t swim. Oh, on hot days he’d wade out waist deep in the Normandy waters of La Manche. Once his son Yves was out of his infancy, he’d ride the boy around on his shoulders playing in the surf. But he never actually learned to swim. Why he’d dream he was didn’t make sense but the few dreams he remembered rarely did. He yawned twice, back-to-back. Performing a task he had no skill at, if only in a dream, had left him exhausted.
Oliver sat next to him on the floor but Jack-in-the-boxed up again. “I’m too excited to sit. I know what I’ll make.”
“What?” Roger asked, swatting at a rat who stopped to chew the leather lacing on his boot. The animal leapt out of range of Roger’s hand to hunker down in the corner.
“A periscope.”
Not a bad choice, Roger thought. They hadn’t been available to the English or the French at the time of the war. He knew from living in the modern world, huge ones were used in naval warfare on nuclear submarines and the like. The battles between France and England in this period were land skirmishes. They’d be useful on land too.
“Have you made one before?”
“Course not.”
“How do you know you can?”
“I don’t for certain, but I think I can make a primitive one. You won’t let me attempt a gun.”
“You Tube, where art thou?” The only videos he’d seen were funny ones friends sent. For once, the medium might be of use. “If you are able to fashion a periscope, you should persuade them it is a good defense tool.”
Roger stood and stretched. The movement filled the air around him with the scent of sour sweat. That unpleasant whiff of himself assaulted his senses. It had to have traveled over to Emily on her visit, as embarrassing odors generally do go the distance. Poor woman, it probably brought a tear to her eye.
“Does it alter the future too much? If so, then I’m dead in the water because I haven’t a backup idea for something to impress them,” Oliver asked, pacing as he talked.
Roger cupped his hands and dipped them into the water bucket. He splashed the cool water over his face and wiped the back of his neck. “I say go with what you got. If one or the other, or both of us disappear, then we know you meddled too much,” he said, drying his face with the tail of his filthy shirt. “Have you made a mental list of what you need for your periscope? You’ll have to keep the parts simple. Consider the period you’re working in. We didn’t have quality mirrors like you do.”
“I thought of that. I think...hope I can make the adjustment so the piece is bare minimum, effective. I just need it useful enough to get me out of here with you.”
“When the night guard comes with our food, we’ll tell him what we need.”
“I’d like to talk to their armourer. I’ll need him to fashion some of the pieces.” He flinched as he passed too close to the waste bucket. “I’m also excited at the prospect of smelling fresh air again.”
“If they let us out, an accidental run-in with Emily would be convenient. Highly improbable, but convenient.” The three times Roger saw her, she wasn’t as unhappy looking as he expected. Why? If he was a gambling man, he’d wager on the Captain of the Guard, Simon, being the reason. Simon definitely fancied her. Roger had seen that same brightness in the eyes of his men whenever one became besotted. Simon was good at shielding his feelings but not as good as Roger was at reading them. “What else will you need?”
Oliver ticked the necessary equipment off his fingers. “A carpenter to fashion the rectangular wooden box and metal discs from the armourer should do it.”
“Not much of a periscope.”
“I told you it would be primitive. It doesn’t need to be fancy, only operational.”
****
They told the guard they needed to speak with Simon and Richard. Since the evening meal hadn’t been served in the great hall yet, the two men came down right away.
“You have a science object you wish to present to us,” Richard said.
“Yes, but we require the services of two of your tradesmen, the armourer and a carpenter.”
“Where does this we come in? You are the so-called science person, not him.” Simon jerked his head in Roger’s direction.
“He’s helping me.”
Roger wasn’t sure what he could do to help Oliver, but he’d do whatever he could just to stay outside for a while.
“Let’s go while we still have the light,” Richard told Simon.
Simon let Roger and Oliver out of the cell. He and Richard positioned themselves so Richard was in the front and Simon brought up the rear with the prisoners sandwiched in-between. Simon frowned and waved his hand in front of his face as the men went by him.
“Who do you wish to speak to first?” Richard asked.
“The armourer. If he is unable to assist me, then I won’t have need of the carpenter.”
Out in the bailey, Roger took a quick scan to see if Emily was around but she wasn’t. The Elysian Fields armourer also served as their blacksmith. Short and stout, the man wore no shirt just a leather apron over ragged-hemmed breeches common to farmers and other tradesmen. As the four approached, the smithy stopped his work shaping a horseshoe.
He nodded at Simon and Richard but paid no attention to the prisoners. “What can I do for you?”
“This man wants your help in making something, we don’t know what yet,” Richard said. “You explain.”
He stepped aside and Simon shoved Oliver forward.
“I need four discs. Three this size,” Oliver made a circle about half the circumference of a pie pan with his hands, “and two flat and square, this wide and this long,” he said, using his fingers to show him. All must be polished to the highest gloss you can achieve. Can you do that?”
“Yes. When do you want them?”
“As soon as possible.”
“I’ll have them the day after tomorrow. I need one day to fashion them and one to polish.”
“Thank you.”
“What’s he want?” the smithy asked, looking at Roger.
“Nothing. He’s helping the old man,” Simon said.
“Have you seen the carpenter?” Richard asked the blacksmith.
“The stable repairing a damaged stall.”
The four found the carpenter and once more Simon shoved Oliver forward to explain what he wanted. Oliver requested the box to be the length of his forearm with rectangular openings on opposite boards and opposite ends.
“The openings should be about this big.” He demonstrated what he wanted.
“This is most odd. What is it you wish to make?”
Roger stepped up, knowing from experience with Oliver’s previous conversation with Richard that he wasn’t up to thinking fast on his feet. “It is a treasure box of sorts.”
“Sounds ugly.”
“Can you make it or not?” Roger asked with growing irritation.
He nodded. “I can have such a simple box done by evening tomorrow perhaps sooner.”
“Good,” Oliver said.
Richard and Simon led Roger and Oliver past the horse trough on their way back to the keep.
“Stop here,” Simon ordered and removed the bucket hanging on a pole by the trough. He filled it and doused Roger first, then Oliver. “Continue on.”
Roger welcomed the impromptu bath. If an insult would get him another dousing, he’d speak it, even if he risked getting a bloody nose as well. Simon hustled them along before he could get an insult out.
****
As promised, the box and the metal pieces arrived on time. Richard handed them to Oliver through the bars of the cell. “I don’t see how you can make anything worthwhile from these. Let the guard know when you’re done.”
When they were alone, Oliver held the pieces in his hands like he would a dead cat and said, “I didn’t think this through. Richard is right. I can’t make my periscope. I forgot about adhesive. I’ve no way for my mirrored parts to stick. What did you use for adhesive?”
“Animal glue was common but I’ve no idea how to make it. I’d go with cheese glue.”
“Cheese glue? The Americans call that Velveeta. Are you being serious?”
“Serious as a hangman. All we need is soft cheese, water, quicklime, and a mortar and pestle. I built my boy a little wooden sailboat with cheese glue. It’s sturdy stuff.”
****
Richard turned the periscope over in his hands, fingering the cutouts and looking puzzled. “How is this a treasure box?”
“From a strategic standpoint, it is a treasure,” Oliver said. “Your longbowmen, what’s their range?”
Richard answered, “About two hundred yards.”
“I’ve been fired upon by them even farther out,” Roger added. Heads turned his way. To take the edge off the dark looks they gave him, he added, “Your archer’s skill struck fear in many men’s hearts.”
Simon’s expression softened a fraction. “Range depends on the strength of the individual bowman. The average is closer to one hundred to one-hundred-fifty yards.”
“This gives your archers the ability to fire the first volley on attackers who come into range without exposing themselves,” Oliver said with confidence Roger questioned he possessed.
“Let’s see how this device of yours works,” Simon said.
Simon and Richard left but returned minutes later. They brought two additional knights, Harold and Cedric, with them as they led Roger and Oliver out and off the castle grounds. Approximately one hundred yards from the edge of the woods, Oliver asked to stop. “Here?”
Simon looked from the spot to the castle. “This is good.”
Yellow limestone deposits known as Cotswold stone covered the shire. Oliver glued one of the round discs to a boulder that rose knee height from the ground.
Simon had given the periscope to a knight he ordered to stay on the outer curtain wall. Once Oliver had the disc in place, Richard would wave a flag. The knight on the wall would kneel, out of sight and raise the scope in their direction. If he could see them from that position, he was to wave a scarlet flag. If not, he’d wave a black one.
A red flag went up. Simon smiled. “The old man did it,” he said to Richard. “You two remain here, but hide in the woods,” he told Harold and Cedric. “I want to see for myself how this works. When I wave the red flag, come out of the woods as though sneaking up on the castle.”
Roger and Oliver stood by while Simon and Richard took turns ducking and using the periscope to peek over the top of the wall. The scope gave the archers the ability to fire the first volley on attackers who came into range without exposing their archers. Other knights patrolling the wall also gathered around to try it.
“We’ll search out spots on the north and south sides of the castle to post the other two.” Richard turned to Oliver. “You say you haven’t given one of these to our French guest,”
“You have the only one,” Oliver said.
“’Tis wondrous. No enemy can creep up on us. The river offers no cover and neither do the woods with this.” Simon handed the periscope back to Richard and waved the black flag signaling Harold and Cedric to come back.
“If you wish to be released with Comte Marchand, you must make another of these, of better quality,” Richard said.
Roger stepped in front of Oliver. “That wasn’t the condition for his release.”
“Now it is. This is a worthy gift for the Prince. We’ll have another or you’ll be leaving here alone.”
“You treacherous bastard.” Roger pressed closer, almost nose-to-nose had Richard been taller.
Simon dropped his crutch and pulled Roger back by the shoulder hard, pushing him into the wall. “Richard has never raised a fist to anyone in anger. You want to fight, then fight me. Don’t think me incapable because I am lame.”
“You’ve no idea how tempted I am.” Roger didn’t want to fight a crippled man, but if Simon continued, he would.
“Roger don’t. Don’t lose your chance for freedom,” Oliver blurted.
Roger planted his feet firmly and readied for Simon to swing at him. Richard moved between them and ordered two knights to escort Roger back to the dungeon.
Behind him, Simon called out, “Chain our testy prisoner in the wall manacles.”