Preserving Hope (The Aliomenti Saga - Book 2) Read online

  He stopped walking. He wasn’t a compulsive student of history, but he did know that people had grown taller, on average, over time. At six feet tall, Will would likely be by far the tallest man around in most eras, tall enough to cause fear and unnecessary curiosity. He also remembered that one of the Hunters mentioned that he was taller than they remembered. Both of those bits of information meant that Will needed to shrink before he met up with any of the Aliomenti.

  Modern medicine might be able to use surgical procedures to reduce the size of his bones. Will had no access to modern hospitals; if he still had the time machine, he could go back to the future and undergo the surgery, after first berating his children and their friend Adam. That wasn’t an option, and he had to work with the skills and technology he had. That meant his Energy and nanos, the microscopic intelligent machines that could combine to form nearly any shape or perform any task he could imagine, had to be the answer.

  Will suspected that if he was about three inches shorter, he’d still be relatively tall, but not dramatically so. With nothing to base it on, he pushed his Energy around so that it surrounded his body and infused every cell, and pictured himself shrinking until the top of his head was about the previous level of his eyes. Much to his surprise, he could feel the effects of shrinking begin only a few moments later, a sensation that his body was being compacted. His muscles became larger and more defined; he realized that he was losing height without losing mass.

  When he felt the shrinking effect stop, he glanced at one of the trees nearby. It was difficult to be certain, but the lowest branches of the closest tree did seem to be farther from the top of his head than they’d been just moments earlier. Satisfied that he’d succeeded in his height-altering goal, Will began moving again.

  After walking deeper into the forest, Will spotted a high fence, more like the walls circling a town, ahead of him. It was a strange sight; he’d never considered that someone might build walls or a fence inside a forest, but conceded that it might be wise. In fact, for a group like the first Aliomenti, it was likely a necessity, for if they were found they could legally be required to resume their roles as serfs. It was unlikely they’d go quietly, however, and the walls suggested that they intended to fight anyone seeking to return them to their beginnings.

  As he searched for an opening in the fence, he reviewed the back story he’d invented for himself. Thankfully, it mirrored his actual story. Thieves, incorrectly believing that he’d stolen from them, set upon his wife and son and killed them, burning the family home down in the process. Left with no family, no home, and no possessions save for his money pouch and the clothes he wore, he left his town, walking aimlessly, and electing to do so until he saw a new town. He’d move into that community, if possible, and begin his life in new surroundings. He chose a random direction, started walking and found himself here. He’d been a merchant and had enjoyed modest financial success, so he did have some money to pay for food and lodging.

  Will wasn’t able to find a gap in the walls, and the only entry into the community, a gate, was locked. Since he’d neither seen nor heard any sign of inhabitants of the village, he climbed the wall and jumped down inside. Once inside, he walked around, observing the layout and looking for someone from whom he might request lodging. He suspected that this was where his future wife lived, for the obvious efforts at secrecy and defense fit with the few clues he had about her past, and with the earliest days of the Aliomenti.

  The buildings were constructed of rough, hand-hewn beams and featured thatched roofs that sloped down in one direction. The bulk of the buildings on the perimeter were small, as evidenced by the closely-spaced doors and tiny windows; Will was reminded of the college dorm rooms in his day. These small rooms shared common walls. A second double of rooms was built at the far end of the village, creating a small “street” within the village. Small wooden signs were fastened to each room’s door with a single name scrawled using what looked like paint.

  The center of the village was dominated by a series of shops which looked to provide the tools needed to create a wide variety of crafts. He saw large stone hearths, which he suspected could be used for baking or even smelting metal for shaping into weapons or tools. On the opposite side of the center section were buildings that looked like they were used to store finished products. Two of the buildings looked like grain silos.

  Nearest to the gate was what amounted to a courtyard, an open area save for a large stone well with a winch used for fetching water. There were several paddocks he walked by, to his left as he looked back at the gate, where he saw pigs, cows, goats, and chickens. A large stable occupied one corner nearest the gate, and Will suspected he’d find horses inside the structure.

  Will turned to his right, where he spotted the two largest buildings inside the fortress he’d entered. One was of similar construction to the other small buildings that Will had speculated were single-person dwellings, but was over twice the size of the others. Written on the nameplate were the words “Arthur Lowell and Family.” Will frowned, realizing that none of the other nameplates mentioned families, or provided family names.

  The other structure was the largest building he had seen, and he inspected it more closely as he completed his circuit through the community. It was unique in that it had no person’s name scratched on the identifying plate, but rather a phrase. “ALIO INCREMENTUM SCHOLA.” He choked back a startled gasp as he translated the Latin phrase: personal growth school. For Will, it was obvious that the small, hand-painted sign was the eventual source of the name of the group he’d come to hate. Alio incrementum would one day compress to form Aliomenti. He wondered idly when, and how, the name would come to be adopted.

  In addition to the unique name, the “school” was also the only building in the entire community which possessed a lock, a large and visible one requiring a key to open. Clearly, access to this building was to be limited to only those with access to the key or keys that fit the lock. He wondered why a school would need to be locked up, but then realized that schools in his own day were heavily secured. Some things never changed.

  Will heard voices in the distance. As the voices grew louder and more distinct, Will realized that it was a large crowd, perhaps forty people or more in total. Since he did not wish to surprise the villagers, Will moved to stand near the well, where he’d be clearly visible to anyone entering the community through the gate. Hiding, only to be found later, would make it seem as though he had negative intentions for his visit, and he wanted to avoid that making that impression.

  The gate opened, and the men and women of the community entered. And it was truly men and women; everyone was at least in their twenties or thirties, with no children in sight. The people were clearly in high spirits, and despite the early morning chill in the air, every one of them was soaking wet in their clothing. Though it was early summer, it was cool here in the northern climate.

  A man near the front of the group spotted Will by the well, and he held up his hand. The crowd stopped and fell silent, making Will quite aware that he was outnumbered by dozens of strangers who had the only exit blocked. He could escape, of course, but it would raise too many questions. Will knew that it was best for him to stay where he was, and adapt to the changing circumstances.

  “Hello,” he said. “My name is Will Stark. I have traveled without pause these past many days and nights. My feet need a rest and my stomach needs a hearty meal. I was wondering if I might trouble you for a spot to sleep and food to eat. I have money to pay you for the trouble.”

  As Will spoke, the man in the front who had halted the procession into the neighborhood move toward him, eyes narrowed. He had wavy blond hair, rather longer than Will suspected was standard, and moved in a predatory fashion. Behind him, the other members of the community moved to a sufficient degree to enable everyone to enter the village inside the walls, and then the gate closed noisily behind them. Will was now trapped, or so they thought.

  The blond man moved to
ward Will, drawing a short sword stowed in a sheath attached to the loose belt around his waist, and pointed it toward Will. “How did you find this community? How did you enter? Speak, sir, and truly, or your life will be forfeit.”

  Will froze as he recognized the voice. The speaker was the man he knew as The Leader, who would, in the distant future, order the executions of Will, his wife, Hope, and their son, Josh. Thankfully, the orders hadn’t been successfully carried out. Will had to exercise iron control of himself to avoid blasting the man with Energy. He’d promised not to hurt anyone before he’d left, and had reaffirmed that decision once he’d arrived. Though the promise had been made without full knowledge of his mission, he intended to abide by it. The crowd probably thought the deep breaths were to calm his fears at being outnumbered and facing the point of a sword, rather than to prevent him from destroying the man in front of him. It was an assumption he was glad to let them have, much as he’d let them suspect he had no Energy skills.

  Will smiled, risking transmitting a small bit of trusting empathic Energy toward the man and those behind him. “Peace, sir. I mean you no harm. I have been traveling many days outdoors, and wished for some shade. I spotted the forest and entered, and as I did I saw the wall. I called out, hoping someone would answer, but none did. For a community of this size I was surprised that none responded, and so I scaled the wall and entered, fearing I might find the residents in some form of distress. But I found no one here. A few moments later, I heard you returning from wherever you had gone.”

  The man considered this, then lowered and sheathed his sword. “My apologies, sir. You strike me as an honest man. We value our privacy, as evidenced by our secluded location, and as such visitors are a surprise and considered a potential threat until we can determine otherwise.”

  Will raised his hands. “I assure you, I bear you no malice. I am unarmed, and thus could not harm you without first obtaining a weapon. I am no threat to any of the people here.”

  “I believe you, and I did notice the lack of a weapon,” the man replied. He held out his hand. “Arthur Lowell.”

  Will accepted it, shaking firmly. “Will Stark.”

  “Welcome to the community, Will. We go by first names only around here, so I advise you to introduce yourself only as Will in order to fit it.” He smiled. “You now know my surname, but I trust that I shall never hear it uttered by your lips. We will provide you with water and you may tell us your story. We are a private community, but if the right man comes along we are always willing to add another to our number.” He looked around. “Elizabeth! Where are you?”

  Will heard a strange sound, a sound like a flute, producing a beautiful tone. He remembered that he could “hear” Energy, and that different people produced different sounds. Will watched as a girl of about sixteen, with vibrant red hair matted against her face from the moisture, emerged from the crowd and turned to face Arthur Lowell. Her appearance aligned with an increasing volume of the flute-like sound, a sound Will realized only he could hear. “I’m here, Father,” she said, her voice trembling, and she shifted her eyes to the ground after risking a glance in Will’s direction.

  Will managed to keep from gaping. The girl was, indeed, Hope, though she was younger than when he’d met her and had red hair rather than platinum blonde. The eyes didn’t lie. He’d known his grown son just from seeing the man’s eyes, and was able to do the same with the woman who would become his wife.

  Correction: with the girl who would become his wife. She was not the woman he would marry, not yet.

  “Fetch Will a mug of water and some bread,” Arthur snapped. “Be quick about it, girl!”

  “Yes, Father,” Elizabeth replied, her voice lacking any emotion. She hurried off.

  “Come, Will,” Arthur said, clasping Will’s shoulder. “We shall retire to my home to discuss your history and determine if there is mutual interest in your joining us. Are you married? Any children?”

  Will shook his head. “My wife and son are very recently deceased. Murdered. I am looking for a new start to my life, away from anything that would remind me of my loss.” Will thought that comment ironic, given that his wife was on her way to get him something to drink

  Arthur nodded, his face filled with sympathy. “I understand. I am recently widowed myself.”

  “My sympathies.” Will said, wondering if that death might have been accelerated by the man called Arthur Lowell.

  The crowds passed them, heading toward the buildings at the far end of the community. A young woman with platinum blond hair paused as she was walking by. “Is Elizabeth coming by later, Arthur?” There was a chill in her voice, and Will sensed powerful animosity toward Arthur.

  “Yes, Eva. I’ll get Will situated and then bring her by.”

  “Thanks, Arthur.” She headed toward the collection of small dwellings on the opposite end of the community.

  Arthur glanced over his shoulder. “Coming, Will?”

  Will glanced at the woman called Eva and found himself wondering what the verbal exchange was about. He walked with Arthur Lowell and entered the largest of the dwellings, the building nearest the ALIO INCREMENTUM SCHOLA.

  As he watched Arthur walk in front of him, Will was bombarded with memories of the man, memories of the few moments they’d spent in each other’s presence in the distant future. In each of those circumstances, Arthur, as The Leader of the Aliomenti, had authorized his Hunters to kill Will. Arthur had also authorized the Hunters to kill Hope because of Will’s supposed transgressions. He’d most likely approved the murder of Josh as well. What kind of man would authorize the killing of innocents? What kind of man would authorize the murder of his own daughter? His anger began to simmer, and Will felt his Energy levels rising, striving to escape his body and end the life of the evil man walking in front of him.

  II

  Oath

  Will managed to calm himself as he entered Arthur’s home. He’d promised his children and Adam that he wouldn’t blast someone to death in the past, no matter how much he might think they deserved such a punishment. Though the terms of his travel had changed, he wasn’t going to break his word. No matter how much a man like Arthur might deserve to die, killing him now would mean murdering a defenseless man in cold blood, and the alteration of history might mean other key events in his life would never happen. Would his children still exist? Would future Hope still meet future Will? Would future Will still exist? In an effort to calm himself, Will looked around the house to adjust himself to eleventh century living.

  Though larger than the single-person dwelling rooms populating the community, the Lowell home was too small to allow for any room partitioning. Will, accustomed to separate rooms for sleeping, food preparation, dining, washing, and study, found the lack of walls almost disturbing.

  To his right, Will saw a single bed against the back wall, and closer to him, he saw a single, sturdy wooden table large enough to seat four people. Three rough-hewn wooden stools surrounded the table; Will assumed those were for Arthur, his wife, and Elizabeth. He wondered where Elizabeth’s mother was, then remembered Arthur had said his wife had recently died. Will noted the lack of a fireplace in the house, or anything that might be used to prepare meals. He wondered how the family secured and prepared the food they ate. He would learn in time.

  To his left, Will saw two beds, and Will wondered why there were three beds in the home if the couple shared one and Elizabeth used the other. He was struck with an odd thought: did Elizabeth have a sibling, living here now, that he’d never known existed? Had that sibling survived into the distant future as well?

  Large chests rested at the foot of each bed, which Will assumed held changes of clothing or any valuables the Lowells might own. An additional chest rested against the rear wall. Two windows framed the single door into the residence, and two more could be found on the rear wall; the windows were simply openings cut into the wall and covered with pieces of cloth which could be tied back. Several candles were placed thro
ughout the house, with the bulk of the collection sitting on the table near the door.

  Arthur motioned to the table. “Please, Will, have a seat.” As Will pulled out a stool and sat down, Arthur glared back at the door. “Where is that girl? It should not take so long to fetch bread from the stores and water from the well. She’ll see the belt for sure over this.” He turned to face Will. “My apologies, sir. You must think me a poor host. One should not wait long for hospitality.”

  Will shook his head. “Not at all, sir. Given that you were ready to run me through with your sword a few moments ago, I’m certainly not complaining about anything happening now.” He smiled.

  Arthur sighed. “A woman should learn her place at an early age. Elizabeth, I fear, has not had good role models in that regard. I should not have to tell her to fetch you refreshment. I hope you don’t judge us too harshly for that.” He looked up, a pleading look on his face.

  “No,” Will said, dryly. “I won’t judge you too harshly for that.”

  The door burst open, and Elizabeth stood in the entryway. She held a pitcher in one hand, presumably filled with water, and a mug in the other, with a loaf of warm bread tucked under her arm. Will, who had not seen his wife in two months, had to fight not to stare at her. She was clearly younger, and the flaming red hair was a stark contrast to the platinum blond he’d been accustomed to since they’d met, but there was no doubt that this girl would grow up to become the woman he’d marry.