20:34 (Paris Time)
Unknown date, Ninth Century C.E.
City of Toulouse, County of Toulouse
Kingdom of Western Francia
Ann Shelton landed smoothly and silently in a narrow, dark alley separating two rows of miserable-looking houses made of either red bricks or cob and wood. She then cut the directed gravity propulsion system incorporated to her light protective suit as four more silhouettes joined her in the alley. Night had just fallen and there was nobody in sight in the dark, unlit streets around them. She could however hear the voices of people inside the nearby houses, voices speaking in Occitan, the common language spoken in the Ninth Century in the southern half of what would become France but which was now called Western Francia. Thankfully, the teaching pack for Occitan had been part of the mnemotronic databanks kept by the history department of the MARCO POLO, the language having survived on Earth until the 21st Century, when it had been electronically formatted for the use of historians. Ann and her small team had thus been able to learn Occitan in less than half an hour through a session in mnemotronic chairs. Mnemotronic teaching, or the direct transfer of knowledge to the human brain through a form of neuronic stimulation mixed with hypnosis, had been used for centuries in the Human Expansion and was a form of education that was both common and well understood, at least in the 41st Century. As a historian, Ann already knew as well classical Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Arabic and Mandarin Chinese from past studies and mnemotronic sessions. Hopefully, the versions of those languages contained in the mnemotronic databanks would prove to correspond at least closely enough to the dialects spoken in the Ninth Century to permit meaningful conversations.
Ann opened the transparent visor of her helmet but closed it back nearly immediately, while she gagged and nearly vomited. Vyyn Drelan, who had landed just behind her, looked at her with worry.
‘’Ann, what’s wrong?’’
‘’The…the smell in this alley: it is horrible! The whole place stinks of shit, urine and rotting garbage.’’
The Centaurian historian and sociologist frowned and patted her shoulder.
‘’We should have expected that. Very few places in this century have working sewer systems and people must be commonly using chamber pots instead of toilets, pots that are then simply emptied in the streets through an opened window. No wonder that there were so many epidemics in the Middle Ages.’’
‘’Beurk!’’ Said Private Djea Renak, a young Centaurian commando who had also been cross-trained as a paramedic. ‘’Thankfully, the supplementary shots we received should protect us from the local diseases.’’
‘’Count more on your general state of good health, Djea.’’ Replied Ann, who had by now regained some composure while breathing through her helmet’s air filter. ‘’I am not sure that the strains of microbes currently running around correspond to the vaccines we use. At least, our antibiotics should kill the local microbes easily.’’
Sergeant Mark Dempster, who formed the rest of the small team with Corporal Gino Vinelli, made a face as he looked at the ‘mud’ covering the dirt surface of the alley and nearby streets.
‘’Walking in shit… Great! I already love this century.’’
That made Ann giggle in amusement.
‘’What till you catch a whiff from one of the local women…or men: most people of this time rarely bathe. I would discourage any oral sex with the locals until you could scrub them down a few times.’’
‘’Ewww! Please cut the disgusting details, Ann.’’ Protested Vyyn, making the others laugh briefly. Looking at her handheld data viewer, which showed a photomap of Toulouse produced on the MARCO POLO during the previous 48 hours they had taken to prepare for this mission, Ann pointed down the main street connecting with the alley.
‘’What I believe to be an inn should be less than 200 meters away in that direction. Let’s put our disguises now, for what they will be worth.’’
The five members of the reconnaissance team then opened the haversacks they carried and took out of them long sleeveless brown capes made of synthetic fibers before draping them over their light protective armored suits. Ann had few illusions about how effective those capes would be at rendering inconspicuous a group of tall men and women wearing what would look to locals like suits of armor, but that was the best they could come up with quickly, the fashion of the 41st Century being totally unlike that of the Middle Ages. Major Hans Arntern, the security officer of the MARCO POLO, had also opposed the idea of sending people down to Toulouse without any protective gear, in view of the precarious security situation reigning around at this time. Ann then gave a resigned look to her companions as she slid open her helmet visor, hiding it under her raised hood and fighting the urge to throw up.
‘’This may not be fun, but we will have to go around with our visors up and under our capes’ hoods if we don’t want to attract attention immediately on us. Glass is still rare in this time and place and nobody would have the equivalent of our visors.’’
Mark Dempster made a resigned sigh and raised his own visor, wrinkling his nose at the stench from the ground.
‘’Oh well, I will simply think that I am visiting my uncle’s pig farm again. Are you sure that we could not have chosen a better place to do our reconnaissance, Ann?’’
‘’This place may stink, but I believe that it is one of the best places now for our mission. Toulouse had a reputation through the Middle Ages for being a tolerant and cultured city compared to most of the rest of Europe. The Counts of Toulouse were also said to be enlightened leaders who welcomed both scholars and artists at their court, protecting them from an intolerant Christian church. Well, we should know soon if that reputation is deserved.’’
20:51 (Paris Time)
Inn of Saint-Sernin, Toulouse
Jean de Chambriand mentally wished that his young apprentice, Bernard le Gaucher{5}, showed more maturity at times. The teenager was bright enough but he was easily distracted, especially by girls. Jean often had to return his attention to his studies and work when Bernard would become too fixated on Marie, the young maidservant Jean employed. Even the threat from the approaching Vikings had done little to focus Bernard’s attention. Finally, Jean had decided to bring his apprentice to this inn, to drink some wine with him while trying to make him understand the importance of his studies in medicine, astronomy and mathematics, all things in which Jean excelled. In truth, most people would call Jean a genius, while quite a few would also call him a blasphemer and heretic, for his scientific views about the place of Earth in the Universe, which contradicted the official teachings of the Church. Unfortunately, his plan was quickly fizzling out, as young Bernard simply got progressively drunk while listening only partly to his mentor, eyeing instead the young and pretty maid of the inn and attracting in return a couple of light slaps from Jean meant to make him listen better. The inn was nearly empty at this hour, many having fled Toulouse at the news that a Viking flotilla was rowing up the Garonne River, coming from their base camp near Bordeaux. Most of the other citizens of Toulouse that had not fled barricaded themselves in their houses once night fell. As a result, only two other men were present in the hall of the inn, along with the innkeeper and his maid. The hall was half dark, poorly lit by a few torches and by the fire in the central hearth, whose too small hood had problems evacuating the smoke. That smoke in turn hid the low wooden ceiling of the hall, making the hall a bit claustrophobic. That was however common in inns and in most other places, as a matter of fact. Only the rich and the nobles had the money to use lots of wax candles, which were quite expensive.
A strong shock accompanied by a resounding ‘BONK’ suddenly shook the structure of the inn, making dust fall from the ceiling. Jean quickly covered his wine cup with one hand while turning his head towards the entrance of the inn. He felt immediate fear at the sight of the big man wearing a cape over a suit of armor, whose large frame filled the low, narrow door frame as he twisted himself sideways in order to go through. The newcomer then straightened up, only to bang the top of his helmet against the low ceiling, making him swear in a language unknown to Jean and making more dust fall down. The occupants of the inn were now all frozen with a mix of fear and of wonderment: the man in armor would easily dominate most local men by a full head. His suit of armor, of a complicated design barely hidden by his cape, also designated him as a warrior.
‘’Jean, do you think that he is a Viking?’’ Asked with difficulty Bernard, nearly stuttering with fear. The apprentice then swallowed hard when another armored man entered the inn. He was quickly followed by two women and a third man, all of them taller than the average. Bernard, like Jean, then noticed that the women also wore armored suits, something completely unheard of.
‘’They would bring their women on their expeditions?’’
Jean shook his head slowly while continuing to examine the newcomers, who were now making their way to an empty table situated near his own table.
‘’Not that I know of. Also, their suits of armor are nothing like what I have seen to date and the men are closely shaved. Remember that all the stories about the Vikings talk of men with beards and long hair. In contrast, those men’s hair is cut very short, while I doubt that even my sharpest scalpel could do as close a shave as whatever those men use. My bet is that they are from some far away land. I think that you can relax, Bernard.’’
His apprentice did relax then, but for the wrong reasons in Jean’s mind, fixing with nearly impolite insistence the faces of the two women in the group of five newcomers.
‘’Look at how beautiful those two women are, Jean.’’
The alchemist, astronomer, barber, mathematician and surgeon discreetly kicked Bernard’s left leg under the table and chided him in a near whisper.
‘’By Christ, quit staring at those women! You want to attract their attention on us?’’
It was apparently already too late for that, as the woman with black hair looked at Jean and Bernard for a few seconds before sitting down with her companions at a nearby table. Her look however bore no hostility, only curiosity. Jean had to agree with Bernard then: both of the women were beautiful, with the one with blond hair also having long slanted eyelids like he had never seen before. One of the three men of the group, a young one with reddish-brown hair, also had similar slanted eyelids.
‘’Definitely people from far away, and I don’t mean from the North.’’
The woman with black hair then spoke up in a kind of Occitan that, while accented and a bit strange, was easily understandable to Jean and the other Toulousains in the inn.
‘’Waitress, five cups of wine, please!’’
One of the two original customers of the inn, a rough and vulgar man named Gawen, laughed out loud on hearing her.
‘’Hey, Pierre, you heard that? They let their women order in their place in an inn.’’
The two laborers’ laughing however strangled quickly when the biggest of the men in armor gave them a less than friendly stare while pushing away a part of his cape and uncovering a kind of short sword sheeted at his side. When the same woman who had ordered wine paid the young maid once her group was served, Jean discreetly spoke to the teenage girl as she passed by his table, pretending to order more wine.
‘’Quick, Jehanne, show me the money that those people used to pay for their wine.’’
The teenager, a bit overwhelmed by all this, only hesitated for a moment before showing Jean three shiny silver coins. Jean then exchanged one of the shiny coins with two of his own silver coins from his belt purse. As the maid walked away with her empty tray, Jean examined with interest the shiny coin hidden in the palm of his left hand.
‘’Curious! This is a silver denier bearing the head of Emperor Charlemagne, but it is brand new.’’
‘’So?’’ Replied Bernard, not seeing his point.
‘’So? Coins featuring Charlemagne have not been made for over fifty years now. However, that coin bears absolutely no scratches and appears brand new.’’
His apprentice opened wide eyes on hearing that.
‘’The strangers are paying with counterfeit money?’’
‘’Yes…and no! Yes, because this coin was not made in any legally recognized establishment. No, because its weight and silver content seems to easily satisfy the legal requirements for a valid denier. In fact, I have never seen a coin of such high quality fabrication before. Whoever they are, those people probably know a lot about metal work.’’
‘’We do know a lot about metal work, effectively.’’
Jean and Bernard nearly jumped out from their benches, their hearts beating faster, when they realized a bit late that the tall woman with black hair had quietly approached their table and was now standing besides it, less than a pace away from them. Stopping Bernard from simply running away, Jean then looked up at the stranger, who was smiling with apparent amusement at their reaction to her.
‘’Please, lady, sit down at our table. I would love to speak a bit with you.’’
‘’With pleasure, sire. My name is Ann, Ann Shelton.’’
‘’And mine is Jean de Chambriand. This is my apprentice, Bernard le Gaucher.’’
The woman looked with interest at Bernard, then at Jean on hearing the word ‘apprentice’, at the same time as she sat down facing Jean.
‘’Are you an artisan, Jean?’’
‘’Oh, a bit more than that, Lady Shelton.’’ Replied Jean proudly. ‘’I practice alchemy, astronomy and mathematics, on top of being a barber and a surgeon.’’
Ann Shelton eyed with renewed interest the bearded man in his late twenties, who wore better quality clothes than the other Franks in the inn.
‘’A well educated man? That interests me. Could you answer an apparently funny question for me, Jean?’’
‘’But of course, milady! What would you like to know?’’
‘’Well, me and my companions just arrived in Toulouse after a very long trip and I’m afraid that I’m not certain anymore of the present date. Could you enlighten me on that subject?’’
‘’I completely understand your confusion about this, Lady Shelton.’’ Replied Jean, a wide smile on his face. ‘’During a recent return trip from Florence, I left that marvelous city in the year 860. I then arrived in Pisa in the year 862, according to the calendar in force in THAT city, then in the Provence in the year 861, to finally arrive in Toulouse in the year 860. And all that during a six week trip! To answer your question, we are now, according to the calendar accepted in Rome as the official Christian calendar, on Friday, September 23 of the year 861, and that incompetent Charles the Second is still King of Western Francia.’’
For some reason, Jean saw Ann’s face become somber and she lowered her head for a moment under some sort of emotion. Jean used that opportunity to slide in front of her the silver coin obtained from the maid. Ann looked at the coin, then up at Jean, eyeing him soberly as she pushed back the coin towards Jean.
‘’Keep this coin, Sire Jean. It is a proof that one can’t predict everything, like finding myself face to face with a man with a mind as quick as yours.’’
Jean nodded his head, acknowledging her compliment.
‘’Thank you, milady. Could you tell me why someone produced this coin if he had the silver to buy legally made coins?’’
Ann made a wry smile at that and pointed at the two laborers still drinking beer at another table.
‘’I would love to explain to you the problem facing me and my companions, but I would rather speak in a more discrete surrounding than this inn.’’
‘’I must agree with you that Gawen, over there, has both large ears and a loose tongue, Lady Shelton. Could I offer you and your friends the hospitality of my modest house for the night? I suppose that you have not had yet the time to get a room.’’
‘’No, effectively! I accept your gracious offer of hospitality with pleasure, Jean. I must say that being out at night is not a very good idea.’’
‘’Even more so now, with the Vikings being said to be approaching Toulouse.’’
The mention of the Vikings brought at once a worried look on Ann’s face.
‘’The Vikings? How close are they?’’
‘’Nobody here knows for sure, milady. However, refugees have been arriving steadily in Toulouse from the lower Garonne area in the last couple of weeks, telling of the depredations and massacres committed by these barbarians while they make their way upstream.’’
‘’And…what are the chances that Toulouse could defend itself against them, Jean?’’
The alchemist and astronomer shook his head sadly at that question.
‘’Very little chances, milady. Count Raymond, who is a valiant man despite his age, has only a handful of knights and men-at-arms with him. We have been repairing the old Roman city wall as best we could during the last few weeks, but it will not be enough to stop the Vikings. Nearly half of the population has already fled towards the mountains or towards the North.’’
‘’And the Count himself?’’ Asked Ann, who knew from historical studies how feckless and selfish too many of the European nobles of this century were.
‘’Count Raymond is still in his manor in town, with his family. He and his sons are trying to assemble more men-at-arms do defend the city.’’
Ann nodded her head approvingly at that: that piece of information corresponded to what she knew of that Raymond the First of Toulouse through her historical archives.
‘’Uh, could you excuse me for a minute, Jean? I need to go speak briefly with the head of my bodyguards.’’
‘’Go right ahead, Lady Shelton.’’
Getting up from her bench seat, Ann went back to her table and spoke in English to Mark Dempster, not bothering to lower her voice: nobody in this time period could understand Modern English.
‘’Call the fleet and pass the following information to Commodore Ferguson: today is Friday, September 23rd of the year 861 of the Gregorian Calendar. Also, there are rumors that a Viking flotilla is approaching Toulouse. We would need to have that confirmed quickly, as Toulouse seemingly is in no state to defend itself against those Vikings.’’
‘’Got it! What will we do next?’’
‘’That gentleman, Jean de Chambriand, has offered us the hospitality of his house in town for the night and I accepted. He claims to be an alchemist and an astronomer and he seems to me to be a decent, educated man. We may be able to learn a lot more from him.’’
‘’I have no problems with that, Ann. I will take care of calling the fleet right away.’’
As Dempster turned his head towards Gino Vinelli, to make the Franks present in the inn believe that he was talking to him while in reality speaking in his helmet’s radio microphone, Ann returned to Jean’s table, sitting back in front of him.
‘’Well, I believe that it is time for us to go to your house, Jean: I have a thousand questions for you.’’
‘’And so do I, Lady Shelton.’’
‘’Please, call me simply ‘Ann’: I am no noblewoman.’’
‘’No? You certainly have the demeanor and expensive accoutrement of a noblewoman, Ann. What are you then? The wife of a rich merchant?’’
‘’No! In fact, I am not married. I am an historian, an erudite who studies history and human societies.’’
That surprised Jean to no little end: women were generally expected to basically stay home, raise children and take care of the house, or maybe help run the family store or shop, not to study things. Jean had nothing in particular against the notion of an erudite woman, but this was the first time that he met one.
‘’Decidedly, I am getting more and more anxious to continue this conversation in private, Lad…uh, Ann.’’
‘’Then, let’s go, shall we?’’
Ann dropped a silver coin on the table for the maid as she got up again from her bench, with Jean and Bernard also getting up. The three men and one woman in armored suits at the nearby table followed them out a short moment later.
After leading Ann and her small group for maybe 500 meters through the narrow streets and alleys of the medieval city, Jean de Chambriand stopped in front of the wooden door of a three storey-high house made of bricks. Like the rest of the town, the streets of the district stank and the houses around appeared to be poorly built, with some visibly sagging to one side or another. As Jean knocked hard on the door, Bernard at his side, Ann and her comrades stayed against the façade of the house, trying their best to be inconspicuous to any possible person observing them from the windows of the neighboring houses.
‘’Judith! JUDITH! Open up! It’s me, Jean!’’
After a moment, the noise of iron safety bolts being pulled came from the inside and the door opened. Jean and Bernard walked in at once past the old servant who had unlocked the door. Jean smiled reassuringly to his servant as she eyed with fear Ann and the four others entering the house.
‘’Do not worry, Judith: I met those people at the Inn of Saint-Sernin and I invited them home for the night.’’
‘’But, sire, they are so tall and wear armor. What tells you that they are not Vikings?’’
‘’Vikings, bringing two women with them on a scouting expedition?’’ Replied Jean with a smile that finally reassured the old maid. With a lit candle holder in one hand, she relocked the front door and followed her master and the newcomers through a small room that served as Jean’s workshop, then into the larger main room of the house, which served as a lounge, kitchen and dining room. A few wood logs burned inside the fireplace situated along one wall of the communal room, providing a poor level of illumination, while the floor was made of poorly cut planks. A teenage girl wearing a simple, well-worn dress got up to greet the newcomers with a forced smile as Jean de Chambriand made the presentations.
‘’Welcome into my house, my friends! I would like to present you to Judith, my senior maid and cook, and to Marie, my young servant. You also met already at the inn my apprentice, Bernard le Gaucher. Judith, Marie, this is Lady Ann Shelton, who arrived with her friends from a long trip. They will spend the night here.’’
Both servants bowed to Ann, who bowed her head in return while smiling to them and Jean.
‘’Let me present to you in turn my companions. First, my partner historian, Vyyn Drelan. Then, the members of my escort: Sergeant Mark Dempster, Corporal Gino Vinelli and Private Djea Renak. Thank you again for your hospitality, Jean. Do you mind if we put our packs, capes and other things inside your workshop for the night?’’
‘’Not at all! Please, make yourselves comfortable.’’
Ann bowed again to thank him before filing into the adjacent workshop with the other members of her team.
As they waited for Ann and her group to come back to the living room, young Bernard approached Jean and nearly whispered in his ear.
‘’Are you sure that we can trust those strangers, Jean?’’
‘’Pretty much, Bernard: they are nothing like what I heard about the Vikings. Have you detailed their accoutrements?’’
‘’Uh, not really. Their capes hid much of them.’’
‘’Which is why I believe that they wore capes, not because it is cold. In truth, their armored suits are quite strange, with many things on them that I can’t identify. Also, the three men-at-arms have short swords and knives, but not the long swords the Vikings are known to favor. Did you notice the eyes of the second woman and of one of Ann’s guards? I remember reading an old Roman parchment about a traveler who went far to the East, a long time ago. One of the things the writer had deemed worthy of mentioning was that Easterners often had elongated, slanted eyelids, like two of the newcomers. I do believe that those are travelers from afar, and not Vikings. Besides, the Vikings wouldn’t have needed to ask me what date we are: they have been looting and rampaging through our country long enough now to know very well what date we are, right?’’
‘’Uh, I believe that you are right, Jean.’’ Replied Bernard while lowering his head, contrite. ‘’What do we do now?’’
‘’Show them our hospitality, of course! Marie, take out a pitcher of my best wine, along with cups for everyone, and I mean you and Judith as well: we don’t get travelers from afar here very often. Maybe we will hear some fascinating stories tonight about the countries they went through.’’
Marie had finished lining up cups and a pitcher of wine on the rough wooden table of the living room when Ann and her comrades emerged from the workshop, having shed their light protective suits and wearing their form-fitting fleet shipboard work uniforms, supplemented by belts supporting their instruments and weapons. Jean held his breath on seeing Ann and Vyyn’s uniforms, two-piece outfits made of trousers and T-shirts that molded their eminently feminine bodies: such outrageous outfits would be enough by themselves to attract trouble to Ann and Vyyn, for the Church absolutely forbade women to wear men’s clothes. On her part, young Marie, all of fourteen years old, sucked air in and opened her eyes wide as she admired the athletic body and smooth face of young Djea Renak. Even old Judith eyed with interest the tall, strong and wide-shouldered Mark Dempster. As for Bernard, he was literally devouring with his eyes the two female travelers, to the point where Jean had to discreetly elbow him in the ribs and whisper to him in Latin, in order not to be understood by the travelers.
‘’For God’s sake, Bernard, get a grip on yourself: you’re drooling!’’
‘’Uh, sorry, Jean, but they are so beautiful.’’
Ann Shelton grinned at that moment and spoke, also in Latin.
‘’Why, thank you, Bernard. You flatter me.’’
While Bernard reddened from embarrassment, Jean looked sharply at Ann.
‘’You speak Latin, Ann? What other surprises do you have for us?’’
‘’Oh, plenty, my good Jean. Do you have a place where we could speak in private?’’
‘’I have an astronomical observatory in the attic. Will that do?’’
‘’It will be perfect. Lead on!’’
Jean nodded, then started climbing the creaky wooden stairs of the staircase leading to the upper floors of the house. Ann looked around her critically once they were up in the attic: four skylight windows covered by wooden panels faced the four cardinal points, making for decent observation positions, while a small table and chair sat in a corner, with a pile of parchments and two large bound, leather-covered books resting on the table, along with pens, an ink bottle and a primitive sextant. There were however no telescopes. That however fitted with the very low technological level of this century. Jean offered Ann the chair and sat himself on a wooden stool, facing her from two paces away. They both examined each other in silence at first, with Ann in particular taking the measure of Jean. The alchemist, in his late twenties, was small compared to a man of the 41st Century, but at least he appeared both healthy and fit. His face and eyes reflected both sharp intelligence and a gentle nature. Ann definitely found him charming and somehow felt that she could trust him.
‘’Jean, I am going to tell you things that will shock you and that you will have difficulty to believe, but what I am going to say is the simple truth.’’
‘’And why would you be ready to trust a complete stranger like me, unless you wanted to deceive him, my dear Ann?’’ Replied Jean in a neutral tone. His eyes were however inquisitive, analyzing every move of her body language: he obviously still harbored some suspicions and doubts in his mind. Ann then chose her words carefully.
‘’Jean, I will tell you the truth because it is going to come out sooner or later and because I need someone I trust here in order to be able to interact peacefully with the local authorities and thus avoid some regrettable misunderstanding. I didn’t lie to you when I said that we were travelers from afar and not Vikings. I just didn’t tell you how far we actually came from.’’
Ann paused for a second before delivering her bombshell.
‘’Jean, we came here accidentally and are now in the impossibility of returning to our place of origin. We also come from the stars…and from the far future.’’
Jean’s jaw dropped open at that, having expected about anything but that.
‘’But…but that’s impossible! I can’t accept such a story!’’
‘’You will have to accept it eventually, Jean, like the other people of this century. Do I look like a person from this century, Jean?