Traveller Inceptio

Tatae stood in a pensive silence, her amulet clutched in her hand as she gazed across the open fields toward the forest. The mighty forests of home were not like the forests here. She sighed and looked to the sky, scattered with cloud and bisected by two white lines that cut across the blue. Michael told her such lines were made by the vessels in which people flew. The people of Michael’s home were like gods, in that they could do anything. Miracles were a daily occurrence, yet they were far from the goddesses. The goddesses couldn’t be felt, nor their influence seen.

Such a void in her consciousness was disturbing, and sometimes almost more than she could bear. She wasn’t even sure if the monks’ Christian God was near, but then again, he and Tatae had never really been on speaking terms.

Michael stood by the car and watched her carefully. She knew she couldn’t fool him, could never hide her true feelings. She knew he was concerned.

Dressed in jeans and fashionable jacket, to any casual observer, Tatae looked like she was dressed by a fashion designer, which indeed she had. She turned to Michael, and despite her best efforts, her smile was wan.

***

Michael was deeply concerned for Tatae. Despite everything he and Professor Taylor had tried, Tatae was constantly unhappy and seemed to be fading.

As more footage on the skirmish was carefully released, the story of the Saxon Traveller project continued to be a headline grabber. Eventually, details from Hurley’s and Hunter’s missions were compiled into a TV special that was so successful, that by the time Michael left hospital, he was famous. To make matters worse, the media learned a real Saxon had made the journey to the 21st Century and the public’s hunger for more images and stories became insatiable. Being a beautiful woman made Tatae even more appealing. After considerable pressure to allow Tatae to be interviewed, Michael was forced to concede. It all took place at a specially isolated location where Tatae, Michael and Professor Taylor discussed the Traveller project with a celebrity journalist.

Tatae became an overnight social media sensation.

Michael’s obsession to keep Tatae out of the media spotlight had been unsuccessful and she soon became a celebrity of sorts, though Michael had to admit, all concerned did their best to shield her from publicity where they could. Unfortunately, her magnificent hair and the weave of golden ribbon she always wore became an icon by which she was easily recognisable wherever she went. He hoped the public’s infatuation would wane, but the love of the dashing Saxon Traveller and his beautiful Saxon healer, as a fairy-tale story of the perfect couple, made them into media darlings. Professor Taylor warned them they looked to capture the public’s attention for quite some time.

“Which,” suggested the academic, “isn’t such a bad thing. After all, more publicity means more support for the Traveller projects in the future.”

Michael was not at all happy. When the public’s passion for detail meant selling magazines and advertising, it was worth a lot of money to some. They stayed in a cottage in the country near Welbeck, a secret location he feared the media would soon discover. The paparazzi had already begun to harass, demanding pictures of Michael and Tatae, asking what she ate, what she missed, what underwear she wore. One young woman from a prominent women’s magazine even had the temerity to ask what her favourite sexual positions were, all with a straight face, as if it was something she asked every day.

That was when Michael ceased to be polite. He had only been out of hospital for three weeks and was still gathering his strength. Tatae never left his side. She had lived in the hospital until he was permitted to leave, an ordeal that took five long days. At Professor Taylor’s insistence, the hospital set up a private room with a bed in which Tatae could sleep. If anything motivated Michael to get well quickly, it was the thought of Tatae being kept in a concrete cage while she was poked and prodded, examined and tested. The healer became the source of a more than a few defining academic studies. Her blood samples were sought by geneticists the world over, her teeth were checked, and she was given a thorough physical. She was examined for parasites, old injuries, and asked what she ate and when. Some researchers asked about her healer’s lore, described by one researcher as an ‘amalgam of alternative medicine and superstitious spiritualism’, and everything she said was carefully documented by Olivia, one of Professor Taylor’s PhD students.

Professor Taylor and Tatae became reasonably good acquaintances, mostly because he was one of the few to whom the poor girl could even converse. He spent many hours interviewing her, discussing her daily life, and of course asking her about her healer skills. What really helped was when he took Tatae outside to walk in parks so she could breathe free air. The academic became quite fond of his Saxon princess and recognised she was a child of the forest who had never before been indoors. To be locked inside, even with Michael, was her own private hell.

After her clothes had been taken to be carefully analysed, Tatae was dressed in clothes Olivia had brought, clothes Tatae found soft and strange, where the underwear made her giggle. Her real clothes were washed and returned, spotlessly clean and smelling like soap, a smell Tatae could barely tolerate. She told them of her understanding of natural remedies, especially those she carried in her pouch. One was a fungus variety unknown to science, and most of the other plant remnants were a mystery, so Olivia took Tatae into the forest. The day-trip turned out to be a frustrating experience for Tatae as there was no real forest, not as she knew it. She found a number of herbs and fungus, described their uses, and told them that, at home, the forests were different.

Professor Taylor spoke to Michael when he realised they might be losing control of the situation. “Hunter, I assure you, we’re doing the best we can to keep Tatae happy, but she won’t rest until you’re well, as you know.”

Hunter nodded. He had been told his colour was better, and with his wound patched and the bone set, there was nothing he could do to advance the healing but to be positive. Tatae took over as his nurse of sorts. She advocated gentle exercise, rest, and an infusion she made for him. She had steeped a mixture of herbs, bark and fungus in a clay pot and simmered the mix gently on a campfire she built in the garden bed in front of the hospital.

Olivia had helped, though was terrified they might get into trouble. Her thesis on Tatae and folk-remedies meant they spent quite some time together and they soon became close friends. To Tatae’s delight, she had even learned a few words of Saxon. There was some conjecture as to whether Tatae’s brew actually helped, but the considerable threat of infection faded. There had been grave fears the spear thrust had nicked the lung’s pleural sack. The doctors’ consensus regarding the positive results was through sensible antibiotics, the iron will of Hunter, the positive influence of Tatae, and maybe the psychosomatic benefits of her remedies.

“Olivia has been listing Tatae’s understanding of natural remedies, and I must say, Tatae is a walking encyclopaedia of lost knowledge,” explained Professor Taylor enthusiastically. “Almost any native plant or fungus we can find has some kind of medicinal use. Olivia is filling notebooks and there are hours of video footage she has to analyse. Tatae is a treasure.”

Hunter grunted and smiled. “Don’t let her fool you, Professor. She isn’t stupid, you know. One of the monks, Horsa, has been trying for years to unlock Tatae’s secret knowledge and she’s very careful not to tell all. I can guarantee that for every remedy she tells you about, there are a hundred she won’t divulge.”

Professor Taylor nodded, his excitement unrelenting. “I know, my dear boy. Olivia suspects as much. However, in time we hope to find out all we can. My God, the medical benefits can be astonishing, not to mention some significant gains for the alternative medicine industry. Imagine being able to pick a weed out of your garden to help arthritis, or asthma. We’re discovering knowledge that has been lost for centuries.”

“But is Tatae happy?” asked Hunter.

The question dampened the academic’s enthusiasm. “Well, no, my boy, she’s not happy. As you know, her healing arts are only part of her role, as she’s more like a...like a...a priestess, or a reservoir of old knowledge. Now, of course, we don’t know if that knowledge is Saxon alone, or an amalgam of old Celtic as well, but she’s a spiritual leader as well as just a healer. Most of that spiritual power comes from the old forests, probably a throwback to the Celts who considered certain trees sacred. As you know, most of our forests are gone and, well, there’s nothing here like you experienced, that’s for sure.”

“How does she feel about the forests having been destroyed?” asked Hunter quietly.

Professor Taylor simply shrugged. “Well, this is a point we haven’t stressed, you see. Tatae has no concept of time as we know it, especially with the Transporter. The whole idea that this is a future of the land where she lived is beyond her comprehension.”

“A future or the future?” mused Hunter.

Professor Taylor chuckled gently. “Well, there you have it. We’ll never know for sure, but she simply wants to go home to her forests.”

Hunter just nodded. “Don’t tell her, Professor. Don’t tell her that her forests are gone.”

“Oh, my God. No, dear boy.” Professor Taylor recoiled in horror. “That would kill her.”