14 October 1123

　　Matilda thoroughly enjoyed owning her own schedule for the first time in her life. Postponing her journey to London while her ankle recovered had done wonders for her mental state. Preparing to travel back in time had been more stressful than she`d realised and Matilda felt her tension ease with each passing day.

　　She`d established a comfortable routine in the weeks since her arrival. She woke around sunrise each morning and hobbled around the hills near her cave, determined to exercise her foot and explore the new world. Matilda loved watching as it came alive. Birds sang their morning songs, animals grazed in the meadows and the warmth of the rising sun removed the bite from the crisp autumn air. It was pristine. Untouched.

　　Matilda gathered wild plants for a basic breakfast and a warm tisane. Her food situation was neither comfortable nor dire. The limited rations from the future were only intended to last several short days before she embarked on her mission to London. The Institute planners hadn`t accounted for Matilda`s clumsiness and her rations had been quickly exhausted.

　　Although her ankle caused great difficulty, Matilda had succeeded in hunting a small doe but only managed to consume or preserve half of it before the meat had perished. Matilda felt guilty at the memory of dragging the rotting corpse away from her camp and strategically dumping it in the hope that scavengers might salvage one last meal. She`d vowed to kill no more of the elegant creatures and her meals became much less decadent, though she occasionally treated herself with a strip of dried venison.

　　Her leisure activities started after breakfast. Leaning against a tree, Matilda read her Institute bible for the thousandth time and pondered obscure philosophy or physics. She missed the banter with her classmates and found herself longing for human interaction as the days passed.

　　When the afternoon sun had removed the bite from the autumn air, Matilda limped to a nearby stream to swim. The icy water numbed her swollen ankle and she relished the freedom of floating on her back as the dappled sunlight shone through the canopy above.

　　More than anything, Matilda`s favourite activity was making her cave feel homely. She`d explored the cave with her little brother when it was almost a thousand years older, a special getaway for the siblings to bond during her rare weekends away from the Institute. The cave was already full of memories but, missing her family, Matilda sought to recreate a feeling of home.

　　She cleared away the larger rocks and swept the bare dirt floor with a hastily crafted broom. Matilda had always enjoyed making things but lessons at the Institute had focussed on framing a house, plumbing sinks or wiring a light fitting. She suddenly found herslef free to create for aesthetics rather than just utility or learning. She started with simple practical items, crafting a door and a stone wall to stem the flow of bats that visited the cave each evening. Homely items came next, first a cot so she didn`t need to sleep on the floor and then a shelf to hold her most precious belongings.

　　With her leg almost fully mended, Matilda promised herself one last project before departing for London and started on a table and chair to introduce some civility to her cave dwelling. She took particular care in crafting the chair and her attempts at carving leaves and flowers made it a truly luxurious item. Crude but a rare work of art nonetheless.

　　Matilda was excited to be around people again and longed to see Twelfth Century civilisation firsthand. She was surprised at how few signs of humanity she`d seen since her arrival. She`d deliberately avoided roads and dwellings but had spotted the occasional person working in a distant field. After years of studying the period through books and paintings, it felt like being in a zoo where the animals refused to play.

　　Though she hadn`t seen any people up close, Matilda began to suspect that the area surrounding her cave wasn`t completely abandoned. She frequently had the unnerving feeling of being watched and she`d discovered a rudimentary sling while returning from the stream. It was still supple and hadn`t been hardened by the elements, suggesting it was only recently discarded.

　　The feeling of being watched increased after discovering the sling and Matilda started to find her belongings in odd places when she returned from trips away from the cave. She initially attributed this to absentmindedness but was convinced that something strange was afoot when her utility knife went missing altogether. Matilda vowed to solve the mystery and planned an ambush to catch her unwanted visitor the following day.

　　She left for her afternoon swim as normal but upon reaching the stream, quickly looped back to her cave to lie in wait for the intruder. She crouched behind a bush near the gully entrance, peering through its branches.

　　It wasn`t long before Matilda saw signs of movement and a lanky, shaggy-haired adolescent dashed into the gully, peering around to ensure he`d not been seen. Matilda was intrigued when the Boy filled one of her pots with water and placed it over the still-warm embers of her fire.

　　Showing no interest in waiting for it to boil, the Boy strode to the cave and expertly shimmied the latch that kept the door closed. It was clear he`d visited the cave before. Matilda had hidden her most important belongings and wasn`t overly concerned by the Boy`s intrusion but felt slightly violated by the invasion of privacy nonetheless.

　　The Boy eventually emerged from the cave carrying Matilda`s dismantled recurve bow and a handful of her carbon fibre arrows. He inspected the arrows before tinkering with the bow, assembling it through trial and error. Matilda was impressed by the care he applied to the task, carefully bending the arms with his body rather than risking the whole contraption exploding in his face.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

　　With the bow constructed, the Boy tested its draw and propped a piece of firewood on the opposite side of the gully to use as a target. Matilda quickly learned that he knew his way around a bow and three of her arrows plunged deep into the wood in quick succession. The Boy seemed equally impressed with the performance of the otherworldly bow. He retrieved the arrows and repeated the process several more times.

　　There was a sudden hiss and a cloud of steam as the Boy`s pot of water boiled over. Admiring his inventiveness, Matilda realised it was a makeshift alarm clock. He calmly finished his remaining shot before collecting the arrows, restacking the firewood and emptying the boiling water. He methodically dismantled the bow and returned it to the cave. Wisps of steam from the emptied water was the only sign that he`d ever visited.

　　Matilda decided she was ready for some human interaction. It was time to introduce herself. She darted into the gully and sat on a log by the fire, legs crossed. She donned her most bored expression, hoping that casualness might unnerve the Boy.

　　He emerged from the cave much quicker than before, looking content with his successful expedition. Then he noticed Matilda, startled and stopped in his tracks. His satisfied expression evaporated, replaced in an instant by one of sheer terror.

　　"What are you doing in my camp?" Matilda asked nonchalantly, picking at her fingernails.

　　The Boy`s eyes darted over Matilda`s shoulder as his fight or flight reflex kicked in. Determining that the path out of the gully was blocked, his hand hovered towards a familiar knife hanging from his belt.

　　"I wouldn`t do that," Matilda suggested firmly. "Nice knife, where`d you get it?"

　　The Boy paused again, confused by Matilda`s lack of threat. "Your accent is strange," he answered defiantly.

　　Matilda laughed in spite of herself, shattering the tension. "You`re spirited, kid. Don`t get cocky, I`m not here for a fight. Come, take a seat. And give me back my knife." Her last point was dead serious.

　　The Boy didn`t seem to fully understand but begrudgingly occupied a log opposite Matilda, tossing the knife irreverently at her feet.

　　"What`s your name?" Matilda asked.

　　"William. Who are you?"

　　Matilda ignored his question. "And what are you doing in my camp William?"

　　The Boy stared at her, weighing his options.

　　"I was curious," William replied defensively. "You`re not what I expected of an outlaw."

　　"Outlaw!?" Matilda asked with feigned outrage. "What gave you that idea?"

　　"You. Living alone, in the Baron`s woods. Your weapons! I`ve never seen a bow like yours before."

　　"You`re quite a good shot," Matilda conceded, making William look uneasy. "Yes, I watched the whole time. You`re not the only one who can spy from the bushes."

　　"Oh." William said stupidly. A silence fell over the camp.

　　"Who taught you to shoot?" Matilda asked.

　　"My Pa," William answered. "He was an archer. Served the King and won our family`s plot of land."

　　"He taught you well. How long have you been visiting my camp?"

　　"A couple of weeks perhaps? I saw the deer in the tree."

　　Yes, Matilda thought, that lined up with the feeling of being watched.

　　"You shouldn`t do that you know," William berated. "Killing the Baron`s deer. He`s hanged people for less."

　　Matilda gave an appreciative nod. "I`ll remember that. Not that I`ll be killing any more, I need to depart soon."

　　"Already?" William asked, his curiosity returning. "You can`t have been here long, your cave is so empty. Where are you going?"

　　Matilda weighed whether she should say but saw no harm. "I`m heading to London, to visit the King."

　　The Boy blinked at her, unimpressed. "Why would he want to see you?"

　　The bluntness of his question made Matilda stumble.

　　"You`ve been snooping through my stuff," Matilda replied defensively. "What do you think?"

　　William pondered her question. "If you`re not an outlaw&I`d guess you are some sort of tinker. But you don`t have much to sell."

　　"Sometimes it`s more about the quality of what you`re trading than the sheer amount of merchandise. Plus," Matilda said patting her satchel, "I don`t leave my best items where just any rabble might find them."

　　William stared greedily at her bag. "What`s in there?"

　　Matilda considered the Boy. He`d had many chances to steal her things and she couldn`t blame him for succumbing to the temptation of her knife. Judging it was safe to show him, she withdrew some of the satchel`s contents. He was very impressed with her bible but was disappointed when Matilda refused to let him hold it. Next she withdrew the discarded sling. "This wouldn`t be yours by any chance?"

　　William nodded and she tossed the sling back to its owner.

　　Matilda continued to show him her possessions, enjoying the company and answering his questions about what each was for. He gawped - a little too hungrily - when Matilda showed him her spools of gold, silver and tungsten wire. As a distraction, she quickly withdrew her torch and showed him how to use it.

　　"What is this sorcery?" William exclaimed as he flicked the light on and off. "Ok, perhaps the King would want to meet you. Forget tinker, are you some kind of witch?"

　　"It`s not me," Matilda replied, "you`re the one turning on and off."

　　William put down the torch and stared at Matilda seriously. "Where do you come from? What place can create such treasures?"

　　"That`ll do, for today" Matilda interrupted abruptly, realising that she`d probably shown too much. "I`ve got much to prepare and can`t afford interruptions. So please, run along. And stay away from my things."

　　William looked crestfallen, his curiosity unsated. "Can I at least keep the knife? You`ve got others, surely you don`t need them all?"

　　Matilda couldn`t believe his nerve but found it endearing. "You`re an unusual boy, young William. Wilful, yes, but curious. And brave. I like that."

　　The Boy waited impatiently for an answer to his request.

　　"I can`t just give you a knife," Matilda said. "That`s bad luck. You`d could buy it from me, I`m supposedly a tinker after all. And it`s a fine piece, so the price will be high."

　　William was frozen in place, stuck deep in thought.

　　"Run along William. I feel that we`ll meet again, though tell anyone else I`m here and today will be the last you see of me. Understand?"

　　He nodded.

　　"Goodbye William," she said firmly. "I`m Matilda, by the way."

　　William rose without a word and left. Matilda sat back by the fire and picked up her carving, craning her neck to watch the Boy scamper out of the gully.

　　What an intriguing young man.