Traveller Inceptio

Hurley’s head felt as if it would split. As a soldier, he was painfully aware of the potential seriousness of his unseen wound, which Kitchener grudgingly agreed might be a traumatic brain injury. What was more important, he was furious at himself for going down so quickly and easily.

Now he just wanted to get home and get himself sorted.

Stretchers were fashioned using spears and cloth from the loot at the Viking camp. The hunters said there was a wealth at the enemy site they had never before imagined, a wealth useless for their immediate needs. Bolts of fine linen and woollen cloth were roughly cut to make stretchers for the long hike to the extraction point. The Saxon Traveller team knew Osborne’s arm required immediate attention, while Hunter and Morris were in dire need. Kitchener had stressed they would rapidly deteriorate and, in the case of Morris, could die.

The villagers feared the warriors would leave them in their hour of need, but a dizzy Hurley calmed their fears. “You thought I left you before, but I didn’t! What makes you think we’ll leave you now?” The villagers looked abashed and unsure.

“Then why have you left your food and your medicines, but not your weapons?” asked Hilda. She was concerned for her husband, knowing he needed the strangers a while longer.

“Lady Hilda, we aren’t leaving. We’ll stay with you,” explained Kitchener with a gesture to Poxon. Both men were bloodied from their ministrations.

She nodded, suddenly relieved. Though the village healers had worked tirelessly, she knew the strangers had great skill in the wounds of war. All knew that many who should have died had been saved.

Tatae had become distracted by Michael’s injury and remained at his side. Typically, each of the team had been quick to identify the pretty girls of any location, and Tatae certainly stood out as the most eligible. As they had prepared to be Transported to Saxon Aengland, Hurley explained she was doubtless one reason why Michael had been so keen to help the villagers.

Before the battle, Osborne had been the first to sum it up. “Fucking Hunter! He gets Mae and now he’s hooked this classy little babe. I hate him.” The joke was that Osborne had been madly in lust with Mae and devastated to learn she had been seeing Hunter, or as he had delicately put it, Hunter had been ‘giving her the pork-sword’ all along. Now Osborne struggled to survive.

The Travellers knew, with the evacuation of the wounded, Tatae would never agree to be separated from Hunter. Anderson questioned the potential historical ramifications with Kitchener. “This isn’t right!” he murmured quietly. “We can’t allow her to return. Bringing a local back to home might have consequences, both to our historical time-line, and to her as well. The shit will hit the fan enough because we didn’t just collect Hunter, but instead jumped straight into combat. Bringing Tatae back might push a few of our senior brass over the edge.” The American shook his head in concern.

The medic just shrugged. Having suffered many privations that come with warfare, the men were sympathetic to having a loved one on hand to give comfort. As Osborne lay on his stretcher next to Hunter, his face pale and semi-conscious from the drugs, he reached out to Tatae, who held his torn and bloodied hand tenderly. His bandaged stump was soaked and his severed arm lay across his stomach, wrapped in the plastic Tatae called ‘clear skin’. The big Australian looked up into her enormous eyes that swam with tears. “Don’t you leave him,” he croaked. “He’s a good man and one of the bravest I know. You come back with us, ok? He’ll need you.”

Tatae nodded silently, not fully understanding what he meant, but she understood enough.

It was late afternoon as they set off. Hurley again gently shook his head in an attempt to clear his dizziness. Had the battle only lasted this morning? How much had happened in only half a day? All of the Travellers were experienced in battle, but not like this. This had been bloody and brutal, seeing friend and foe cut down with cold steel, often to fall in pieces.

Wearily they set off, carrying the three stretchers. Hunter had initially objected to being carried, but he was fading fast and knew he couldn’t walk far. Morris lapsed in and out of consciousness and Kitchener had assessed all three cases as critical.

They were besieged with offers to carry the stretchers.

Brother Oeric accompanied them.