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As they were ushered through the tiny kitchen a young girl stopped stirring the contents of a big pot; Megan flashed her a smile, then followed the others out through the back door, which the young boy slammed shut behind them. After the warmth of the tiny kitchen, the frigid, damp afternoon air felt unpleasant. Better than being arrested though. They picked their way down the narrow stone steps. Ahead of them were several small plots of land. Green stalks and leaves poking out of the damp earth. Beyond that a row of houses; in fact, houses surrounded them on all sides.
"Should we wait it out until they go?" Megan asked. A young girl's screech followed by crash suggested they should keep moving.
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The Girl, the War and the Witchfinder
“Is it too much to ask to be back in the twenty-first century?”
A quick wander around the city of Chester and Megan has her answer. It’s better than Roman times though surely? The buildings look more modern at least, and the beer actually tastes like beer. There’s even a variation on take-out food.
There are one or two drawbacks; the roads aren’t much better than those in the twelfth century. There is a violent, religion driven Civil War raging, and indoor plumbing is still a few centuries away.
Then there is Mr. Shadcombe . . . when Hugh and Megan’s sudden arrival from the second century is witnessed by a young boy, it puts them on the radar of the local witchfinder in 17th century Chester, and they are forced to flee. Avoiding Oliver Cromwell’s Roundhead troops along the way, they secure passage on a ship crossing the Irish Sea.
Shortly after arriving in Dublin, things go from bad to worse, when they are accused of murdering a young girl. When a kindly old Irish gentlemen offers his assistance; being accused of a murder they didn’t commit turns out to be is the least of their problems.
On reflection, perhaps Roman Britain wasn’t that bad after all!
