Walter tied the horses to a rail and led me by the rope over to a well. He pulled a bucket of water up and drank from it. He looked at me thoughtfully and then with a gesture offered me the bucket. My throat was dry from all the dust kicked up by the horses so I took it and drank thirstily. The water was gritty and had a slightly unpleasant taste to it. But I was so thirsty I didn’t care.
"Where are we Walter?" I asked. "Outside Jerusalem, the holy land you fool!" he snapped. "My name is Walter, squire to Sir Edward, a knight of St. John and one day I too shall be a knight of St. John. You don't call me Walter, you call me sir, peasant! Now be quiet before I slice off your nose for being insolent!" With that outburst our pleasant conversation ended.
We stood in silence for about another 20 minutes before Sir Edward returned from the palace. "Come boy," he said as he took the rope from Walter. "King Richard wants to see you. Now boy, the Lion Heart is a busy man so stand quietly until he asks you a question and then answer it honestly and he may allow you to keep your head."
Richard the Lion Heart, I've read about him in history lessons. He was the king of England, a fearless warrior with a fearsome temper. Grandma's watch has got me into serious trouble.
We entered a spacious chamber with a marble floor and a large throne like chair. In front of the chair, on their knees were three knights. In front of them was a tall, powerful man with broad shoulders and red gold hair and predatory gray eyes. "You've lost another battle, how are you ever going to capture Jerusalem… Get out, get out before I take your titles, your lands and your heads!" boomed the tall man. He could only be King Richard and then he turned those scary gray eyes on me.
"Who is this foul smelling peasant?" snarled King Richard. "This is the strange boy I told you about," replied Sir Edward. "He doesn't look much like a spy, although he is dressed strangely," pondered King Richard. "Well who are you boy?" continued the King. "Well sir,” I began, “My name is also Richard, Richard Jones. As strange as it may seem I'm from the future and I came here because of this watch," I said, reaching into my pocket. As I held the watch it started beeping. King Richard and Sir Edward quickly jumped back. "Sorcery!" cried King Richard. "What type of evil magic makes this infernal sound?" I pressed the little button that stopped the watches’ alarm. "Guards seize him!" yelled King Richard and two men at arms roughly grabbed me by the arms sending the watch tumbling to the ground. "Take him to the dungeon!" demanded the king.
Frantically, I reached down and grabbed the watch that was lying on the ground beside me, just as the two guards dragged me from the room and down a passageway. They opened the stout wooden door and hauled me down a steep stairway. At the bottom was another passageway that ended with a black metal door. The guards opened the door to reveal a small chamber with burning torches and another guard with a set of keys hanging from his neck. "Here you go, lad. Tuck the jailer will find somewhere nice for you to stay," laughed one of the guards. Tuck opened the door with one of the keys revealing a dark and gloomy room with straw scattered across the floor. The two guards lifted me and threw me into the cell and the door slammed shut.
As I picked myself up from the floor, I sensed movement in the gloomy darkness of the room. I wasn't alone. I heard the clanking of chains as a figure rose from the gloom in front of me. I jerked back in fright and backed up against the wall of the cell. "No need to be afraid," croaked the figure in front of me, "It's only me Mad Malcolm."
Mad Malcolm was huge with a wild tangle of red hair and a matching beard. He had several teeth missing and a nose squashed across his face. His hands were in manacles drawn together by a chain. "What's your name, lad?" He asked this question rather politely which was a bit of a shock for he looked like a terrifying dungeon dweller. So I told him my name and how I was first accused of being a spy and then some kind of evil magician.
Malcolm told me his story of how King Richard had also had him thrown in the dungeon. Mad Malcolm's real name was Sir Malcolm Douglas, a knight from Scotland. The English and the Scots have had many wars against each other and even on a crusade to win back Jerusalem they still didn't get on very well. Malcolm had defeated King Richard in a practice fight and afterwards King Richard had made what Malcolm considered to be a rude remark about his beloved Scotland. He flattened King Richard with his wooden practice sword and as a result he was flung into jail.
How did I get myself into this situation? I should have listened to dad! I sat down and put my head between my hands and thought about my mom and my grandma. Was this the type of adventure that they wanted me to explore?
And then I heard a whimpering, it was soft and barely audible among the noises of the dungeon. "Is that you Mad Malcolm, are you okay," I asked. "No it's Mohammed, he cries day and night, but don't worry about him...he belongs to the other side." I moved towards him and could finally see him. He was only a young boy aged five or six. His eyes were huge and he put his hands out to fend me off. I told him that I was his friend and I would not hurt him. "Friend... won't hurt," he said in broken English. I put out my hand and he took it. Then he wriggled closer and cuddled up to me. "Home please," he begged.
He was asking the wrong person. I didn't even know where I was...let alone how to get out of here. "Where are your parents?" I asked. He told me that he didn't know where they were but that he lived in a small town outside the palace.
I told Mad Malcolm that I needed to escape and take the boy home. He laughed at me and called me a fool. "I've tried to escape from here and if I can't get out, you and your little friend here will never get out." Maybe I was a fool to think I could escape, after all I’m only a kid myself.
Eventually I drifted off to sleep with Mohammed cradled under my arm. Grandma came to me in my dreams. She told me to use the watch to escape and take Mohammed back home. "Think about what you did to get here in the first place," she said softly in my ear.
The next morning I awoke sore and stiff. The smell made me feel like throwing up, it was disgusting in there! The guards walked past and threw some dried up, mouldy hard bread at us. Mad Malcolm pounced upon it and pushed Mohammed away. "Please…" begged Mohammed. Mad Malcolm tore off a small piece of bread and gave it to Mohammed. He greedily shoved it in his mouth and almost swallowed it in one go. He was obviously starving to death, I had to do something.
When things had settled down and Mad Malcolm had gone to sleep again, I took Mohammed into the corner and whispered that it was time to escape. I pulled out the fob watch and put it between both of our hands. I told him to think of home. The watch started to give off heat, Mohammed looked at me with fear. And then the tumbling sensation happened again, but this time Mohammed was with me. We landed with a huge thump in the sand.
Several people were surrounding us and talking in a strange language that I had never heard. Then someone recognized Mohammed. It was his mother, she had tears pouring down her face as she grabbed and tightly held her dear son. She held him in the air and everyone rejoiced with happiness. It was then that the attention turned back to me. People were pointing and looking scared and they slowly started to move away from me. Mohammed looked at me with his big brown eyes and said thanks. His mother’s smile was warm and happy. I had done my job there.
I held onto the watch, closed my eyes and thought of home. Once again the watch became hot and I could feel myself drifting into the tunnel and falling and falling until bang I landed on my bed. I opened my eyes and everything looked normal. But then I looked at my clothes, they were torn and dusty.
Dad had heard the bang when I landed back in my bed and he came in to check on me. He looked me up and down and then put his fingers over his nose. "Richard, you’re filthy and you stink! Go and have a shower and put those disgusting clothes in the washer." He started to walk out and close the door then he stopped and looked back at me. "Your mom would be horrified at how dirty you are." He shook his head and walked out.
My mom would be proud of me. I know she would. But I can't tell dad about my adventure, he wouldn't believe me and
he’d probably take the watch away from me. Mom said this has to be my secret. I bet mom and grandma both know what I did today.
Monday
Back to school today. It was a little boring after yesterday and I found it really difficult to concentrate. I kept thinking about Mohammed and wondering what he was doing today. Was he going to school, looking after goats or just playing with the other kids in his village? I feel really proud of myself, saving him from that dreadful dungeon and almost certain death from starvation or disease.
Then I started thinking about all the different places and times throughout the ages I could visit. The possibilities were endless!
Honestly, I don’t think I heard one word any of my teachers said today.
After lunch we had assembly and something really great happened. We WON the poster competition! I get to go with Maddi and Gretel to the Waterpark on Saturday. I am so excited! I’ve never been to a waterpark and I’ve never been down a waterslide – ever. It is going to be so much fun, especially with Maddi…oh and Gretel too.
Wednesday
At lunchtime today Ted and I went to the sports field and joined in a soccer game. I don’t usually go down there