Timestruck Read Online Free Page B

against the wall at the end of the
bed where Dominick’s pillows were. It was a long, wide, ornately
decorated scabbard. The shape rising above the scabbard was
unmistakably a sword hilt. It would be easy enough for Dominick to
reach out and grab the sword if he were attacked while in his bed.
He could have used it against her. But he hadn’t.
    “Where do you live, Gina, when you are not
creeping into the bedchambers of sleeping knights?” he asked.
    “I’m from New York,” she answered, her throat
dry and her eyes still on the huge sword.
    “I know of Yorvik, in Northumbria,” Dominick
said. “Alcuin came to us from Northumbria. If you are a friend of
his and you are in Francia to see him, why are you not in
Regensburg? You will find Alcuin there, with the king. You see, I
am trying to convince myself that you are not entirely mad and that
you have a reason for visiting me so unexpectedly,” he ended with
an encouraging smile.
    His teeth were white and even. He really was
a handsome man. Gina tried to force herself to stop admiring him so
she could pay attention to what he was saying.
    “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned a
king,” she told him. “The last king of France that I know of had
his head chopped off on the guillotine. I think it happened a
couple of hundred years ago, while the Scarlet Pimpernel was trying
to save the aristocrats. I don’t know much about history and
literature and all that liberal arts junk. I graduated from a
technical high school.” Seeing his bewildered expression, she
stopped to catch her breath. She was talking too much because she
was so scared.
    “I already know you think I’m crazy,” she
said, lifting her chin in defiance of the quaver in her voice.
“Well, I’m beginning to think you’re nuts, too. Maybe both of us
are locked up in the loony bin, and we just don’t know it.”
    “I am not an acorn.” He looked deeply
offended.
    “That’s not exactly what I said. It’s the way
your language translates. What is this language, anyway?”
    “Frankish.” He was frowning at her.
    “Let’s start all over,” she said, and made
herself smile at him as if she wasn’t ready to die from terror.
“According to you, we are in Bavaria, speaking Frankish, and you
are Dominick, lord of this place. Does it have a name?”
    “This is Feldbruck.” He was still frowning at
her, but he displayed no sign of impatience. He just stood there
beside the bed, wearing nothing but his thigh-length tunic, his
eyes on her face as if he was trying to decide whether she really
was a madwoman or just a lost and confused traveler. His bare legs
were long and straight, his feet narrow and elegant. And clean. So
were his hands.
    Gina repressed the urge to stretch out her
own hand and touch him. Then she marveled at herself for wanting to
get that close. She usually made a point of staying well out of the
reach of any man.
    “All right,” she said, trying to make sense
out of what had happened to her. “Now, you say you have a king
named Charles. Does he have a number after his name? Real kings
usually do, you know.”
    “He is Charles, son of Pepin, and he does not
need a number. There is no other ruler like him.” The words were
spoken with quiet pride.
    “Son of Pepin? That’s a name I do know. When
I was a kid, there was a Broadway play about Pepin.” A chill went
down her spine. “Dominick, what year is this?”
    “It is the Year of Our Lord 792.”
    “That number! It’s the same number I
mistakenly typed into the computer. What have I done to
myself?”
    “What is a computer?” asked Dominick.
    “It’s a machine. If my suspicions are right,
there is no way I can possibly explain it to you. You don’t even
have electricity. Or indoor plumbing.” She twisted her hands
together to stop them from shaking.
    “I don’t wish to alarm you, but it’s plain to
me that you are not in your right mind,” Dominick said in a
soothing tone of voice. “After speaking