I staggered forward on the uneven ground, Allie bumping into me as she stopped.

“Where are we?” she whispered. “This looks kind of like where we were, but no lake down there, and no…wait, there is a building…or was.”

I turned to see the stone tower with other attached buildings. It looked nothing like Uncle John’s place. The stones here were all limestone, and the tower was at least three stories in height. There were a few rafters left from where there had been roofs on the buildings, those all being single story

“A tower?”

Allie looked it over. “Yeah, but more than that. It’s tied into the other buildings or wings or something. So where the hell are we?”

“My thoughts exactly,” I replied automatically. She was right about the terrain. Not a whole lot of ash juniper or prickly pear, but some of the other plants were recognizable, and we seemed to be sitting on the same sort of hill that Uncle John’s place was. If things lined up like before, that would be the setting sun. We’d find out soon enough, I supposed.

I took Allie’s hand. “I guess we’re on our way to Baemardis, though we should probably camp here if the sun is setting.”

She stared at me like she didn’t understand what I said, then sagged and nodded before whipping her phone out of her back pocket. “No service, so I guess this is real, whatever that means,” then fiddled with the screen. I found I’d pulled mine out when she did, and simply stared at the no-bars icon. No wifi signal either. No Bluetooth.

“I’m putting mine on airplane mode for now,” Allie declared. “No sense draining the battery unnecessarily.”

“Might as well turn it off, then. From the looks of things, there isn’t service around here.”

Allie slipped her phone back in her pocket. “Let’s explore these…ruins and make sure we’re alone. If they’re ruins, they’re newly ruined, I think. Not like Chaco or Mesa Verde. And this definitely isn’t modern construction. Those building blocks are shaped and all, but there’s no mortar. They were stacked rock-on-rock, barely more than a crack showing. Even the Ancient Pueblo Indians used mortar. I don’t understand.”

I shook my head in agreement—not a clue. We walked around and through the ruins—a central tower three stories in height with three stone one-story buildings extending off as wings. Everything had been burned, though much of the wood and rafters making up the ceilings of the tower were still intact, if charred. That should provide protection from any rain. I could see where a staircase used to go to the second floor, but it was gone like with the wide main doorway into the tower. The three more normal doorways into the wings also lacked doors. Were these used for firewood, or something else?

“Is this why Mom and Dad insisted that we learn to fence and fight and shoot a bow?” Allie fingered the hilt of her blade. “I mean, they were both pretty good with all of that, too.”

I nodded again but was studying the ground more than listening to her. I could recognize the raccoon, deer, coyote, and bobcat prints around the area. Again, this seemed like home, except that Lake Travis should be glinting off to the south, and it wasn’t. I’d bet the Colorado River was there, just out of sight behind the hills. “Did we go back in time?”

“Time travel?” Allie looked at him. “But that doesn’t seem right. There weren’t buildings like this in pre-historic Texas…were there?”

“Not like this, that’s for sure. Maybe South America or Asia, but not here. Pyramids, maybe, but that’s more Aztec or Maya, and they were much farther south. This isn’t making sense.”

“Respect everyone, but trust nobody. That’s what she said, so I guess there are people around.” She drew her rapier. “I hope I don't have to use this.”

I drew my own, a twin to hers except for some detail in the basket hilt. Some might argue the term. They're sharply single-edged with a double edge for about six inches from the sharp tip. Straight and with enough heft to slice and slash as easily as stab. Some might argue this to be a saber, but it's straight...no curve…and longer, with an ornate guard and pommel that looked quite functional.

I slashed the air a few times. Took a lunge. Nice balance. Allie gave a salute with hers and struck an en garde, and laughed. She was getting good with epee and saber, but I was the one with the trophies. Give her a year or two in college and she'd compete well. I saluted, then drew my dagger as a main gauche as I settled into my own en garde.

She drew her own dagger with her left hand, its quillons curved forward as a blade catcher before shaking her head. “At least we know how to use these, but there's a reason these were ready for us, and that's more than a little scary.”

“Yeah.” The thought had crossed my mind as well. I sheathed my sword and dagger. “Definitely people here.” I pointed at a blackened wall with the burned ends of logs and branches at the base. “This would be good protection if a norther’ blew in, but it’s September here, too, so we don’t need to keep warm. Maybe to heat food.”

“Thunder-bumpers are forming to the southwest, and there’s plenty of cover in here from any storms. Let’s set up and see what they packed for us.” Allie dropped her pack. “This could use some adjustments anyway.”

She started digging through the top compartment. “Looks like some vacuum-packed clothing in here. Good. I’d need some SPF-fifty sunscreen if all I had was this halter top and shorts.”

“True enough.” Her blue-dyed hair on top was three or four inches long but was buzzed on the sides, so she’d need ear protection, too.

That got me wondering what this Baemardis was and what was their dress code. If we were someplace where they built towers and such, well…knight in shining armor came to mind, though it could be anything from Toledo-made Spanish weapons and armor to Mongols to Zulus to something like the Comanches who lived here. The latter ones all seemed more in keeping with the ninety-degree weather. But those were all more into tents or straw huts than stone towers, so who knew?

The thought assailed me…why I even knew about such things…why I’d been encouraged in the various martial arts…Allie, too, for that matter. She looked at me, then tossed a small plastic package at me.

“See what that is. There’s some sort of silvery material in there.” She turned back to continue unloading the different packages—freeze-dried foods now.

I unzipped the top and peeled it open, breaking the seal. I pulled out a translucent kid’s shirt? It was sheer with a sheen to it but way too small unless it…yeah, it was stretchy.

“I don’t know if it will fit, but it’s a long-sleeve top. There’s more,” I continued, looking at the bag. “Sheer yoga pants, maybe.”

“Uh-huh, like I’d…wait.” She snatched the top away. “Turn around,” she said as she started untying her halter top, so I turned around.

After a moment, I heard an uncertain “Kevin” and turned back around. Allie was topless, her breasts covered by a forearm.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“I’m wearing it. You can see it slightly where it covers my shorts, but otherwise.”

I looked her over. Maybe a crease at the elbow, but that might just be her arm.

She gave me a puzzled look. “Why?”

I went back to my previous line of thought. All the various training and hobbies that our parents encouraged, then stepped forward and threw a backhand fist into her belly.

“What the hell was that for?”

“Did that hurt?”

“Not really.”

My hand stung a little. I threw a stronger punch in the same place, trying to watch more closely.

“Hey,” she yelled. “Quit it.”

It felt like I’d hit a wall. “What about that?”

“No. Wait a minute.”

I didn’t wait. I executed a back kick just below her forearm. As I expected, I put her on her butt, but she should’ve been gasping for breath, not getting up into a defensive position.

“Quit it, or I will take you down.”

I bowed to her, then dodged her kick. “Don’t act hurt. My shoe didn’t even leave a mark, and it should have.”

I blocked her punch and caught the next kick she usually threw, slamming her to the ground, bringing my body weight on top of her. “That’s armor.”

“I was going to say that when you kicked me, asshole.”

“Sorry.”

“Let me get my halter top back on. You think this at least has some SPF to it?”

“I wouldn’t count on it.” She liked that overall tan. That worked well again this summer, whether at Barton Springs, Uncle John’s, or her recent forays to Hippy Hollow that he was sworn to secrecy about. She didn’t want the parental units to know she was out there skinny-dipping with a group of strangers. He hadn’t had any desire to go with her. Just not that interested in clothing-optional places.

“Can you tie the bottom?”

He moved up and tied it, wary that she might be planning on payback, but none came.

“That kick hurt my butt more than it did my ribs. It spread things out. I bet you have these in your bag. Get them on so I can kick your ass.”

He dug into his backpack and found a similar bag. As he pulled it out, Allie shouted, “Hey, there’s a balaclava, socks, and gloves. We can be totally armored and totally naked at the same time.” She laughed loudly as he fished out the top that looked like it should fit an eight-year-old.

“Kevin, you face that way, and I’ll face the other, and we can change into these things. Let me know when you’re done since I’m sure I’ll be done first. I promise I won’t look at your butt.” She gave a snicker that told him that she’d probably be doing exactly that, so he first stripped off his shorts after pulling out the bottoms. They went on something like pantyhose, he supposed, then pulled his shorts back on.

“Hey, no fair,” Allie moaned. “You got to see my tits.”

“Like that’s anything new,” he said as he turned and pulled his t-shirt off. She snapped a bare foot into his crotch. It felt like a pat and should’ve hurt.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” she cried. “That stings.”

“Not me.”

“I didn’t expect it to, but you didn’t say it hurt you.”

“It did when I punched you, but not really when I kicked you, but then I knocked you away, and I had shoes on.”

“Yeah.” Allie took a wide stance facing him. “Do it again.”

“Why?”

“See if it hurts my butt this time.”

I shrugged, then shifted, going full-force, putting all my effort behind it. She hit the ground about five feet back, eyes wide, then sprang up and grabbed her sneakers.

Allie gave me a wicked smile. “Get your top on. I want to try that.”

* * *

Allie was eating the last of her freeze-dried dinner when we heard the sound of hoofs on the overgrown flagstone road that came up to the ruins they were sheltering in. There were small windows that let light in but were way up high and more suitable as gun or arrow slits…too narrow to come in that way.

When I went out to wash out my bowl, the late summer thunderstorms showed enough to the southwest that they now blocked out the setting sun. At home, that usually meant that the storms would be here in an hour or two. I wondered if the meteorology would be the same since the geography seemed to be.

I shouldn’t have been surprised that others might want to shelter here. Allie was right about this giving good protection from storms. Most of the ceiling was blackened but intact, even if the stairway had been torn down and it was about fifteen feet to the next floor.

Allie looked over at me. I slid my rapier where it would be close at hand but hidden from view, and she did the same. Then we watched the horse and rider come into view.

Allie knew more about horses than I did, but I could tell that it was a beautiful bay mare that carried the shortish, solidly built man into the area where he drew rein and surveyed us. He wore a bright green beaded vest over a loose white shirt and billowy royal blue pants, and some sort of rigid leather hat or helmet covered his hair, the flaps coming down to his shoulders on either side of his face. A fancy belt and broad-toed leather boots with a low heel completed his ensemble.

“I smelled your food,” he said, “but I see no fire. May I join you?” He spoke with a definite accent but was still understandable.

“Um…sure,” I replied. Swift start there, Kevin. He watched us as he tied the reins of his horse to a ring set into the inner wall and removed his saddle. Definitely not a Western or English saddle. No roping horn and the pommel and cantle both rose high. Maybe Allie would know.

As he turned, I saw he wore a curved saber, the scabbard gilded and filigreed. It looked like a museum piece. Maybe someday it would be, but it was a lethal weapon right now. The stacked leather grip had seen a lot of use. With the clothes, my thoughts went to Asia or the Middle East, but his face didn’t follow that line, tanned with a blond handlebar mustache and goatee. Mid to late thirties.

“Got firewood?”

“No,” I replied. He looked at me again, then nodded and stepped out. A few minutes later, he returned with an armful and dropped it near the center of the round chamber. I’d noticed blackened ground and some charred branches there when we came in, but our butane stove worked well for heating the water we needed for our meals.

He stepped my way, then tossed some silver coins on the ground where I sat. “For the privilege of your woman’s company this evening.” He quickly bent and grabbed Allie’s arm and pulled her up to him.

I fumbled as I grabbed my rapier’s hilt, then drew it. “No,” I yelled.

Allie struck at him, but he pushed her so her fist hit the flap of his helmet. He laughed, then saw my blade pointed at him.

He shoved her back to the ground and faced me. “That’s good money, man. Probably double what she’s worth for the night,” he said as he waved his hand at the coin.

We both heard Allie unsheathe her rapier, and he took a step away from me while turning so he could watch both of us, flexing his sword hand.

“You are not raping me,” Allie yelled.

“Rape? I wouldn’t. I provided good silver for your services. In town, that would get me two to three nights' worth.”

A look of momentary confusion crossed his face, so I took advantage of that and pulled the main gauche from its sheath with my left hand.

Shock showed on Allie’s face. “What do you think I am?”

“That’s obvious from your lack of dress,” he retorted. “Not even decent underclothes, woman. I assume the same from your man here, but you say you’re not whores?”

“Definitely not,” Allie said, letting the tip of her blade drop slightly. I knew that maneuver of hers, and from the slight smile that played on the man’s face, it wasn’t fooling him.

“What’s with your blades?”

I’d noticed a slight glow from mine in the dim light that I hadn’t seen when I drew it in the sunlight earlier. Allie’s did the same, a slight scintillation of changing colors amid the glow.

“Like them?” Allie said with a smile.

“Who are you two?” He seemed flustered, his hand still flexing, wanting to draw his saber but unsure whether he should.

“Kevin Covali, at your service,” I replied with a slight bow, hoping to calm that sword arm. “This is my sister, Alexis. Who might you be?”

“I am Lord Boian Toma, Primor of Suatu under the Regent of Baemardis, Cavalier of the Golden Scroll, at your service?” He also gave a slight bow, his face showing more curiosity than concern now.

“Excellent,” Allie responded. “We need to travel to Baemardis. You can take us there but take your money back, please. You aren’t getting anything for them.” She dropped her tip and stepped back. I did the same.

“Covali,” the man pondered. “As in Lord John Covali, Crown Lord of the Realm.”

I froze. Lord of the Realm?

“Um,” Allie said. “Our great-uncle, I believe, and we were dressed like this when he sent us here if you were wondering. We have other clothes packed but were uncertain what was most appropriate to this climate.”

“This climate? Where did he…did you say, send you here from?”

“That’s a good question.” I got a word in before Allie could continue. I was sure he’d figure out we were clueless about this place pretty quickly, so we might as well start truthfully. “We’re actually not sure where we are, except that Lauretti told us to go to Baemardis.”

Lord Boian stopped still, staring at me a moment. “She lives?”

“As of an hour or so ago,” I responded.

“I saw her fight when I was a child. She held the gate, building a wall of the fallen to help shield her. No bigger than you, Maid Alexis, but it was a thing to behold, a veritable dance of death with her twin swords. Very similar to your own, My Lord and Maid. Weapon master to the Realm, she was and still is, it seems, though we’ve heard nothing of her in years or of Crown Lord John.”

He dropped to one knee, drawing and placing his saber in front of him. “I am in your service, already sworn such, and I will take you to Baemardis.”

“Thank you,” I said, unsure what else to say, and Allie echoed it. At the same time, Lauretti’s words came back. Respect everyone and trust nobody.