From ONE TOO MANY TIMES

Richard climbed atop his mount for a solitary ride. Twilight was approaching and the breeze refreshed him after that too-close atmosphere.

After passing through the city gates, he took a deep breath of the clean air, free of London's odours. He galloped over the moors, watching the moon rise over a copse of trees. Stars twinkled from the velvet canopy above him. Mayhap it was better Anne hadn't been there. He wanted to be alone, to think.

In a clearing that afforded a view of the sky, nestled between the earth and the heavens, he gazed up at the stars, listened to his breathing, and felt the beat of his heart.

But his heart beat a sad tattoo; he wondered what was going on in Anne's heart since he'd hurt her so. Oh, why couldn't life offer second chances? After all, man was only human.

The pounding of hooves approaching from behind startled him. He could make out two shadowy figures charging towards him. He reined in to mind out the way, but they were upon him, leaping from their mounts, trying to drag him down, tearing his doublet.

Highwaymen!

"I have nothing you want--" The only object worth anything was the pendant. He had but a few groats on his person. Would they kill him just for a bit of gold and a hunk of stone? He began slipping it over his head as they forced him down and brandished daggers, glinting in the moonlight. "This is all I have, take this--"

They slammed him to the ground. But it was like hitting a cloud. He felt no pain, yet he knew he'd blacked out for a moment.

When he opened his eyes, the robbers were gone. So was his mount. He was alone in an open field, the moon still shedding soft light upon him. He stood and dusted himself off, feeling for any injuries. He took a deep breath. His ribs were fine; nothing had broken in that fall. The pendant was still round his neck. They hadn't even robbed him! Mayhap they'd been after the horse. Still dazed and disoriented, for he didn't know what direction was which, he started walking the way he'd been facing. Looking up, he could see the stars, but they were fewer in number and not quite as twinkling, as if some of them had burned away. He recognized a few of the constellations, found the Big Dipper's handle and the North Star just beyond it, and started walking in the opposite direction, back towards the City. A building in ruins loomed in the distance. He wasn't aware of any ruins here. The nearest Roman remains were much farther out. Mayhap the robbers had knocked him unconscious, dragged him a distance and abandoned him here--but where was here? He walked farther. Strange lights glowed to the west. As he approached the ruins, a smoky aroma filled the air, and the orange tongues of a small fire danced before his eyes. Quickening his stride, he was eager to get help and secure transport back to Westminster. A half dozen or so folk sat round the fire, in the center of the ruins. They turned, caught sight of him and stared. In turn, he regarded their bizarre raiment. A few of them were barefoot. All the women's heads were bare.

They just kept gaping at him, looking as startled as he was.

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