Stardust Ch. 01

Standing, Brand watched her scamper away as if he was going to attack her.

Looking into her eyes, he found them to be a dark, almost midnight hue. They reminded him of a fawn's big, round eyes.

Her thick, brown hair was the color of sable and it framed her face. It was disheveled, giving her a wild appearance.

Brand should have been used to her looks by now, but he wasn't. He, Asgerd and Inga had formed a routine in which he watched the woman at night while the two healers retired.

They had long since removed her from the great hall. Her presence had created quite a stir, and it had been inappropriate to keep her out in the open for all to see.

Besides, no work was getting done.

The manor's blacksmiths, the chambermaids, cooks, everyone frequently stopped what they were doing to come into the hall and gawk at the woman.

Brand had decided it was time to place her somewhere in which she could not cause such a disturbance. That place turned out to be his solar. It was the most private and convenient.

He had unrestricted access to the woman and would hopefully be around when she did awaken.

While the woman remained unconscious, Brand had had ample time to allow his eyes to roam her features.

This woman was not the most beautiful he had ever laid eyes upon...but he did like her face.

Her nose was not large or small, but it fit her face...her lips were full and looked to be very soft. The woman's eyelashes were extremely long, and Brand found himself wanting to brush his fingertips across them...they could not be real.

He had refrained, though. No self-respecting warrior would give in to such a sissy urge.

Now that she was awake, he felt his heart beat erratically.

For seven nights he'd observed her and envisioned what she would be like awake. The woman's direct gaze stirred something in him as he watched her valiantly stand there trying not to look helpless and frightened.

She clutched the covers to her chest tightly and swallowed audibly.

Brand was used to people being afraid of him; but for reasons he did not care to reflect upon, he did not want this woman to be one of them. He felt compelled to assuage her uneasiness.

Not moving another inch, he tried to give her time to get used to his presence. It didn't work. The woman was steadily moving away from him, looking like a cornered animal.

When he would have soothed her fears, she spoke in her odd dialect, threatening to scream. Did she not know that her screams would go ignored? She was in his manor, after all.

"I am not here to harm you," he promised. "There is no need to be afraid."

She had imperceptibly jumped at the sound of his deep, booming voice in the quiet room.

"I am Lord Brand Magnusson, and you are in my home. A sennight ago, we found you lying on the ground, left for dead. My healers have been attending you since."

The woman did not acknowledge anything he said, but continued to stare at him anxiously...even though he had assured her that he meant no harm.

Enough of this, Brand thought. Now he was irritated. His word was his honor...if he said he meant her no harm, then it was true. She was a woman...hurting her would be like hurting a child.

"I command you to not fear me. I repeat, I mean you no harm," he reiterated.

Silence.

Sighing, Brand placed one hand on his hip and dragged the other hand down his face in frustration. Thinking another woman would be better suited at putting her at ease, he was about to call for Asgerd when the woman finally spoke.

***

"Where is this place?" she asked.

Tyler eyed the warlord with his gray eyes and bushy beard. She couldn't really see much of his face because of the beard. But he did not look like he wanted to harm her; he was just intimidating as hell. The man was bigger than she had initially thought!

He spoke with a heavy accent and his English was...old.

At first, Tyler had been inclined to think this was some huge, ridiculous joke...or maybe even a dream.

But this was real.

She also was certain that her presence in this place was directly related to the gold box she'd found at the park.

Having just told her she was in his home, Brand assumed she wanted to know what country they were in.

"My fellow countrymen have taken Northumbria. Some of us have chosen to settle here," he explained.

Tyler tried not to have a meltdown.

Northumbria?! She was in Northumberland?! That confirmed that this man was a Viking; and now the tapestry of Odin made more sense.

Tears stung her eyes and she turned away, trying not to let the warlord see her cry. How the hell was she going to get out of this and back to the States?!

Then another thought occurred to her.

"What year is it?" she asked, unable to keep her voice from trembling.

The warlord -- Lord Brand looked at her as if she was insane.

"It is winter...876," he answered.

Tyler did have a meltdown then. She slid down the wall onto the floor and covered her face with her hands.

"What the hell?!" came her muffled cry.

Feeling the warmth of the warlord in front of her, Tyler forlornly allowed the huge man to gently pick her up and settle her back onto the bed. The fight had gone out of her.

***

So she wouldn't get the wrong impression, Brand stood back immediately after he set her on the bed and walked back to his desk.

He grabbed the chair and brought it next to the bed where he sat at a safe distance.

The predicament Tyler was in made her feel overwhelmed with fright.

Having always been fascinated with mysticism and the occult, she'd never expected something like this to happen...not in her wildest dreams.

Time travel.

Tyler felt in her core that she had somehow traveled to another place and time. She made an effort to digest this new bit of information, devastating as it was. How the hell was she going to get out of this one?

She'd been there a sennight?

Tyler mentally went through every history book she'd ever read and remembered that a fortnight was two weeks. So a sennight was one week. She had been there for a week?!

She needed answers fast; but at the same time, she needed to keep her mouth shut about where she was from and especially the time period. The last thing she needed was to be thrown in a dungeon or burned at the stake for being labeled a witch.

Again, fear surged through her, forcing Tyler to close her eyes and breathe deep, steadying breaths. She opened her eyes to find a wooden cup in her face. The warlord was offering her a drink. She really, really hoped it was something strong.

Oddly, though, his composure calmed her and Tyler gratefully took the cup from his big hand.

She admitted that she felt safe with him in spite of her precarious situation. For unknown reasons, she trusted this man. If he was telling the truth, he'd had a week to hurt or kill her. Tyler was sure she had not been raped...at least she didn't think she had.

So, she decided to trust this stranger. Right now, he was all she had in this alternate time.

Tyler chuckled bitterly.

The irony of the situation didn't escape her. She had been alone in her own time, and now, she found herself alone again...this time in a different time period. What were the odds?

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Brand paused at the sound of her husky voice. He was pleased that she had chosen to not be too afraid to talk to him.

"You are safe here with me," Lord Brand was saying. "Though I sense you are still frightened, my people and I will not harm you."

He looked into her eyes, and willed her to accept what he said as truth.

Despondent, alone and afraid, Tyler nodded her head in understanding and acceptance.

"I have questions of my own. Will you oblige me?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered, once again nodding her head. Somebody who asked to be obliged that way couldn't possibly mean to harm her, could they???

"Who are you? Where is your home and how did you come to be here?" he asked.

Sighing, Tyler stared up at the rafters again...no ceiling, no stucco or even plaster. Certainly no ceiling fan or anything remotely modern.

Just rafters!

"My name is Tyler. I come from a place very far from here. It's called America. And I don't remember how I came to be here," she answered.

It wasn't completely a lie. She had no idea how she'd managed to travel across centuries.

Brand's brows wrinkled in concentration. "Where is this place...this America?" he asked, intrigued.

Tyler thought for a moment and wondered how to explain the distance to him in terms he would understand.

"Not even your longboats would get you there very quickly. It would probably take a few months...maybe a year," she said. She managed a smile at his bemused expression.

Tyler knew the Vikings were proud of their longboats...they had every reason to be. They were fast and practical. Telling Lord Brand that even his beloved boats would not get to her home quickly would put the distance into perspective for him.

She was surprised when he smiled back at her...even more surprising was that he displayed even, white teeth. How spectacular, she thought. Tyler was under the impression that everyone from this time period would stink and have rotting teeth.

Well, this man at least was the complete opposite. He didn't smell and his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. Cocking her head to the side, Tyler found herself looking at the warlord -- at Brand -- realizing that he was attractive!

Once she got used to him and past the initial shock, it was obvious that he was a very nice-looking man.

There was a moment of silence as they sat regarding one another. Aware that she was now staring (and that he was staring as well), Tyler lowered her eyes and nervously took a sip of her drink.

Her eyebrows shot up.

"Is this mead?" she asked, looking up in surprise. The drink was very good.

It was Brand's turn to raise his brow. She knew what mead was but had never tasted it?

"Aye. Tis the best in all the land," he boasted.

Tyler smiled again, mirth reaching her lovely eyes. "Is it as good as King Hrothgar's mead?" she asked.

Brand sat back in his chair. This woman was proving to be very astonishing. "You know the story of Beowulf and Grendel?" he asked.

"Yes I do...it's one of my favorite stories," she replied.

The two talked for a few more moments, exchanging information about each other.

As Tyler spoke, excitement was laced all throughout her voice. She was in the 9th century and as a history buff, she was going to learn so much more than history books, TV and the Internet could have taught her.

Of course she was still scared as hell, but she didn't have a thing to lose. There was nobody to go home to, and truthfully, nobody would even notice she had been gone...not really. Such was her sad existence now that Marcus was gone.

He was the only one who cared for her and was concerned about her well-being.

Tyler swallowed against the pang she felt and continued explaining to Lord Brand that she had first read about Grendel and Beowulf as a youngster in school.

Brand sat mulling over the woman's words. He understood most of what she said; but her vernacular was very unfamiliar to him. She knew of the Norse longboats, mead, and Beowulf which fascinated him even more.

How had she come to know so much about his culture yet he was so ignorant of hers? He was about to ply her with more questions when there was a knock on the door.

"Enter!" he commanded as he stood and walked to the fireplace.

Asgerd and Inga walked in, surprised to find their charge looking back at them.

"She is awake!" Inga gasped.

She would've hurried over to Tyler but was stayed by Asgerd's hand.

"Be easy, child. She is awake now and does not know who we are. We must be careful not to overwhelm her," Asgerd spoke in their Norse tongue.

Tyler worried her bottom lip and glanced over at Lord Brand who was tossing more wood into the fire. She watched as the two women eyed her warily. One was a plain, thin blonde who looked to be in her early twenties. The other woman was clearly a matron with her long, silver hair. The older woman was short and small in stature, but she had a commanding presence about her.

This woman was used to being obeyed...Tyler was sure of it.

She was also sure that they were talking about her. They were both standing by the door eyeballing her and whispering amongst themselves.

How rude, Tyler thought.

Lord Brand's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Asgerd, Inga, come. The woman is called Tyler. Asgerd and Inga are the healers I spoke of. They have spent many days and nights caring for you," Brand said in English.

Tyler sat up and once again held the furs tightly to her body. Talk about awkward.

"Thank you both for caring for me. I feel very well now," she said quietly.

The two women both stood there mute.

Asgerd was the first to shake herself out of it. "You are most welcome, child. There was a time when we did not know if you would stay with us. But you have proven to be strong."

Tyler smiled at the old woman, immediately liking her. She was kind.

"Thank you, too, Inga. I'm grateful for what you've done for me." Tyler spoke to the young girl in an effort to include her.

"Oh you are most welcome...Tyler? We are most happy that you are well!"

Brand observed the three women and admitted that this was a most unconventional situation. As much as he wanted to stay with the woman and question her, he was lord of the manor, and there were things to do.

"Asgerd, you will have someone attend to the wom-Tyler. Have her bathed, clothed and fed. She will join us for the evening meal."

"Tyler, if there is anything you require, only request it. I will see you this eventide," he said brusquely.

Tyler blinked at his change in attitude. She watched his broad, retreating back, wanting him to stay. She felt safe with him but knew it was preposterous to expect him to stay with her a moment more.

"Thank you for everything, Lord Brand," she called.

He turned at the door and directed his gaze at her. Tyler's breath caught in her throat at the heat she saw there.

She gave him her brightest smile and couldn't wait to see how he would react. She was surprised when he winked in return.

And with that, he was gone.

***

The rest of the day went by at a dizzying pace. When Tyler had first gotten out of the bed, her legs had felt like jelly. But as she continued to move about, she felt herself becoming stronger, and feeling like her old self again.

As her room bustled with activity, she was introduced to so many people it was near impossible for her to remember each name. Women came in to clean the room, and bring her clothes, soap, and a comb, brush and mirror.

After she had eaten a light meal of bread and cheese, men brought in a heavy tub and placed it near the fireplace.

A young boy of about fourteen years named Finn brought pails and pails of hot water to fill the tub. Tyler learned that Finn was Lord Brand's page.

Everyone openly stared at her. Some silently stared while others were kind and introduced themselves as they stared.

Tyler did her best to take it all in stride.

A few times she almost lost her stuff when the realization hit that she was in a different time and place. But when that happened, she diverted her thoughts and tried not to take in the whole of her situation.

She'd also learned that she had been sleeping in Lord Brand's room...solar or chamber is what they called it. It was a big, masculine room with not many furnishings; but at least it was clean. There was the bed she had slept in, a full-length mirror, a desk, a chair, and the huge fireplace.

Upon closer inspection, Tyler had also found that the tapestry covered a door that led to a balcony.

Asgerd had told her that Lord Brand was fond of open areas and that the balcony proved to be useful during the spring and summer months when it was much warmer.

Surprisingly, Tyler had become attached to Asgerd and Inga. They were the friendliest and had become the most familiar with her while they treated her when she was sick. Now that she was awake, they spoke easily and never left her side.

Tyler was very grateful for them.

They spoke of the manor and told her how Lord Brand and his men had just returned from war when they had found her in the snow. She had been severely "damaged from the cold," as they had said. Tyler knew that frostbitten was more like it. She shuttered to think what kind of shape she had been in.

And when it was time to bathe, it was Asgerd who had graciously scrubbed her among protests. Tyler was very uncomfortable with having someone else bathe her, but soon she just shrugged her shoulders and allowed the older woman access to her body. She already knew she would not win an argument with Asgerd.

Well, she actually did manage to win one argument. The old woman was about to douse Tyler's hair with water, but Tyler very nearly had a miniature freak-out!

It was entirely too cold, and she was severely lacking in hair care products.

Without a hair dryer, conditioner, moisturizer or a flat iron, there was no way Tyler was allowing water to touch her hair. She would simply comb it and brush it for now until she figured something else out. Tyler thanked all that was good that she had inherited her grandmother's soft, manageable hair! Maintaining it was never a problem.

By the time she had been freshly bathed, it was nearly time to go down to the great hall for the evening meal. Honestly, Tyler couldn't wait to see Lord Brand again. She walked over to the beautiful, long sleeve chemise dress that had been laid out for her.

The body of the chemise was black and looked to be made of velvet...it was perfect for the cold weather. The sleeves, however, made the dress as beautiful as it was. They were royal blue bell sleeves that were very wide and had been cut at an angle.

There was also a royal blue ribbon belt that would be wrapped around Tyler's waist. The gown was exquisite, even by modern standards.

"I can't wear this," she gasped. "It's too beautiful!"

"Nonsense. You are our chieftain's guest. And Lord Brand has chosen it for you, personally. You would not offend the lord of the manor by turning down his gift, would you?" Asgerd asked pointedly as she picked the gown up off the bed.

Once again, Tyler had been outmaneuvered by the old healer.

"No, I would not offend anyone," she answered.

"You all have been so kind to me."

"Then it is settled. We must make haste. The evening meal will be served soon, and Lord Brand should not be kept waiting."

Quickly, Inga and Asgerd helped Tyler pull on the beautiful gown...it fit perfectly. Inga wrapped the ribbon belt around Tyler's narrow waist several times before tying a bow in the front.

Once that was done, one of the maidservants -- Tyler couldn't remember her name -- dressed her hair. She gently combed and brushed Tyler's long, brown mane and secured it in a simple ponytail at the base of her neck. The hair was then pulled forward over one shoulder.

The look was completed with a blue necklace of glass beads and matching earrings. She also wore soft, black leather slippers.

Standing in front of the mirror, Tyler could hardly believe what she was seeing. The dress was absolutely gorgeous. The detailing of the clothes was near perfect...just as good as -- if not better than -- anything a machine could produce.

Tyler felt beautiful...she also felt sick.

It was time to go downstairs for the evening meal, which meant she would have to meet more of Lord Brand's kinsmen and warriors. Tyler really wasn't looking forward to it.

And what about the food?

She wished she had paid more attention to the Viking's food preparations during this period. What if she ate a raw or tainted piece of meat? Would the food even be palatable to her? Tyler had to come up with a plan, fast.