In the Year of our Lord 1310, the mighty Chartbroke Castle that dominated the Northumberland countryside for two hundred years was under attack. The notorious Black Clan were not Scottish invaders supporting Robert Bruce in the real sense for they were not interested in Scottish nationalism or opposing King Edward II but believed, if that could be the word, in total anarchy. The entire ruling classes, either Scottish or English were to be overcome. The clan had been declared a poisonous outlaw organization on both sides of the border with all members of the private army condemned to immediate dead by beheading when they were caught.

This, of course did the inhabitants of Chartbroke Village no good for the enemy had nothing to lose. The village was razed on the first day of the attack and the inhabitants unlucky enough to be caught before reaching the security within the castle walls were lined up and slaughtered on the spot. The only locals spared from instant slaughter were young women that took the chieftain's eye. They were dragged away and suffered a fate, it was rumored, worse than if they had been killed on the spot.

The news that filtered through from other defeated castles in the region was that the aristocrats suffered an even worse fate. The women at Castle Breem to the east had forced to watch their love ones being tortured and beheaded before they themselves were violated by the chieftains and handed onto ordinary clansmen to use as they saw fit until they were finally put to the sword.

Lady Katherine deLane pulled a strand of hair from her eyes and gazed out the window of the third floor of Chartbroke Castle's kitchen tower. Black smoke hung over the remains of the village below and even at this height, the stench of burning bodies filled the air. Worse though, was the eastern wall that had finally crumbled under a vicious assault of a continuous barrage of boulders after a dozen catapults had homed in on it. The castle archers had gone, with most, Katherine assumed, dead or injured. The boiling oil that had held the enemy trying to scale the walls at bay on the western wall was depleted and it was now all hand to hand combat with the local swordsmen being forced back. Hundreds of bearded enemy swarmed in with vicious weapons that completely ignored any protocols of combat. Knives, swords, spiked balls on chains and long wooden clubs decimated the defenders.

There was an ear-shattering crunch. Katherine turned and gasped. The main gate burst open and, with a roar of triumph, the second wave of barbarians entered the forecourt. Their cries turned to shrieks of agony as the last cauldron of boiling oil was released from the gatehouse. In complete disregard of their scorched and wounded comrades, those behind just pushed them aside and charged forward. Within seconds, the defenders were overwhelmed. Blood covered the courtyard and bodies lay everywhere, including that of her husband, Lord Chartbroke. It had been reported to her a few moments earlier that he had been hit in the back by an arrow when he tried to flee towards the kitchen gate with his mistress. This was typical of the man who had treated her with distain from almost the first day of their marriage.

"Lady Mary Sunnex was slaughtered, My Lady but we must move on." The servant girl who spoke looked terrified with wide eyes and trembling chin.

"Where Molly?" Katherine whispered. "Where can we go?"

"Our original plan might work, My Lady." Molly gulped as another piercing scream rent the air. "This side of the castle is still firm."

"Of course. We'll head to the top."

The kitchen tower was to the rear of the octagonal shaped castle and was the smallest of the five towers. It rose five floors and opened out onto a balcony covered in netting stretched up to an inner pole like a massive pavilion. Beneath this was an opened courtyard with a wooden shutter in the outer wall. When opened, there was access to a hoist with an attached rope wrapped around a large wooden wheel. When unwound, a large basket could be lowered to the ground below and loaded with essential food supplies for the castle.

The desperate plan put forward a few days earlier when Katherine had refused to leave the castle and take her chances in the woods a quarter of a mile away, was to use this hoist to make a final escape. It was doomed to failure for even if she reached the ground; the chance of her remaining undiscovered as she headed for the woods was paramount zero.

Katherine knew the odds and had already decided that rather than surrender to the indignities of gang rape and torture she would jump, hope God would forgive her the sin of taking her own life and admit her into heaven. Her two daughters had been evacuated a month before so at least they were safe.

Molly led her up the spiral stairway and out into the open. Katherine gasped for the netting had gone and the whole area was still smoldering from the remains of a fire. One of the enemy's fireballs must have made a direct hit. There was no wheel of rope, no hoist or even the shutter but just scorched and charred walls.

"Oh, My Lady," Molly sobbed. "I am so sorry."

"It would not have worked anyway," Katherine whispered. "Did you shut and place bars on the lower doors?"

"Yes. All three, My Lady. They won't stop them for long, I'm afraid."

"No, you are right but we'll secure this last door."

The pair pushed the oaken doorway at the top of the stairwell and dropped a large beam down between the iron hooks. It would take half a dozen men with a battering ram to break through. In the confined stairway outside there was little room for the men so they were secure for the moment. However, in the long term...

"Now what, My Lady?" Molly's words reflected Katherine's thoughts.

Katherine smiled. "You can start by calling me by my chosen name, Molly. I doubt if anyone would want to be a member of the aristocracy after this day in Chartbroke."

Molly nodded and bit on her lip. "We could swap clothes, My ... I mean ... Katherine."

"And why should we do that?"

"The rumors. A servant girl will be despoiled by dozens of men but she may survive. A lady of your station will be subjected to cruelty and atrocities that even the devil could not devise."

"You'd do that for me?"

Molly blinked and tears ran down the inside of her nose. "You paid my bondage fee to free me from virtual slavery and brought me here as your servant. The last few months have been heaven on Earth, more than I ever deserve. Perhaps the Good Lord had set this path for me so you could survive this evil day."

"Perhaps, but it is not necessary. I do not intend to surrender to anyone, now or ever."

"Oh My Lady," Molly gasped. "You don't mean..." Her voice trailed off.

"In these desperate circumstances I'm sure God will forgive us."

"Us?"

"Oh Molly, I am sorry. It is not for me to enforce my decision onto you. You are free to choose your own fate. As you just said, you may survive and move on to live a full and wonderful life."

Molly nodded, stepped forward into Katherine's arms and they both quietly sobbed, not as lady and servant, but two young women both in their twenties who remained friends in these violent times. Katherine stroked Molly's hair and offered words of comfort she did not herself believe.

Without warning, a sharp pain vibrated through her mind. She inhaled and felt woozy. From nowhere it seemed, a fog descended around her and the felling turned to lightheadedness not unlike the extreme intoxication she had suffered at the Christmas Grand Ball when a barrel of The King's Wine had been consumed far too quickly. Katherine smiled as memories of carnal knowledge, not with her husband but Hartwell, the man she really loved, filled her mind.

Katherine's mind jerked back to the present situation when she began to float upwards.

Float!

She screamed but no sound came from her mouth. She looked down and saw herself in her long green frock. Her untied hair streamed out in the wind as her other self held the slim Molly in her white smock and faded blue underskirt. The pair were ten feet below her. Yes, the once mighty walls that were now crumbled and the blazing courtyard buildings sunk away below her.

It was a dream. It must be a dream and she would wake up in the bed with Hartwell beside her.

But it wasn't! Katherine watched the vision of herself and Molly disappear in a cloud of black smoke. She could see the ruined village beyond and barbarians like ants moving towards the castle. The horizon of low green hills tipped and she could now see only the blue sky above the smoke and the summer sun blazing down.

But there was more. Above her was a bubble, like one that the washer lady produced when she added soap to a cauldron of hot water and stirred it ready to wash their clothes. The bubble was transparent, yet it wasn't. She could see in it but not through it. Inside lightning flashed blue and jagged but there was no thunder, no sound of any sort. Katherine felt strangely lethargic and at peace as the bubble opened like a giant clam and she floated inside.