his eyes for that brief rest it was 1812 and when he awoke the year was 1587. Over the next five days he found himself involved in an unbelievable adventure, a date in the past reborn for a second run.
Upon his return to the library to gather his things, he found the old librarian was still at his post. Nothing about the situation seemed strange to this man and he watched as Edward slowly packed his belongings into his knapsack and then he approached him. What the librarian told him boggled the mind.He was sending him out into the night on a grand adventure, one that was too impossible to be believed. But Edward followed the librarian’s instructions and made his way to London where he became involved in the intrigue surrounding the conviction of Mary, Queen of Scots, for treason. Edward found himself in the court of Elizabeth I as the countdown to execution made its macabre march. His role was to get a message from the court to Mary’s son, James VI, King of Scotland. Should this message not get through in time there was thought the army that had been raised by Mary would launch an attack on the English court. Mary was guilty of many offenses in her life and in her time she brought terrible repute to her people, but her son was no better in his own way. He was an arrogant and proud young man who had no real relationship with his mother. She had abdicated the Scottish throne to him under duress and now she believed that he could possibly sit on the throne of England one day as she, herself, had plotted to do for so long. No one is sure of what was in the message or even if it had come from Elizabeth herself or had been an attempt by the court to prevent an uprising. Most believe it was a simple barter, urging James to keep his mother’s supporters in line in exchange for something he himself wanted. For whatever reason, Edward was tasked with delivering the message into the hands of the king’s liaison in the English countryside. On February 8, the execution order was carried out with no interference from Mary’s loyal subjects or from her son. While it is impossible to say what could have happened, all Edward knew was that everything went as history had recorded it. He didn’t know if he had made a difference or not. Had he prevented bloodshed in the defense of a traitor? Or had he been a pawn stopping the resistance and allowing a woman’s death when it might have been prevented, even by war? He struggled with the questions that were circling in his mind and when he returned to find the librarian he sat down to wait for him, determined to get answers. The librarian didn’t appearright away and as the shadows of evening grew longer Edward grew more tired. He settled into a comfortable chair to wait and once again the peaceful library lulled him to sleep. When he awoke he found the librarian standing over him holding a stack of books about the great philosophers.
“Sorry to disturb you, young man, but I found the volumes you were interested in,” the old librarian said with a chuckle.
“Volumes?”
“For your paper. Before your catnap you told me you needed the most complete works I could find on Aristotle and Plato. Here they are,” responded the librarian.
After more back and forth it became apparent the old man either didn’t know or wouldn’t admit that he knew what Edward was talking about with regard to Mary and Elizabeth. He’d just been digging in the stacks for these books, he told him. Edward jotted some notes from the books and tucked them into his bag so he could finish the paper later. He wasn’t ready to work on it just yet. He assumed he’d been asleep longer than he thought and that he’d had a very vivid dream.
I wish I had a history paper to write tonight instead of philosophy. I feel like I could write that just from the memory of my dream
.
He bid the librarian goodnight and walked out into the misty night. As he walked he began to get a chill and he reached into his knapsack for
Upon his return to the library to gather his things, he found the old librarian was still at his post. Nothing about the situation seemed strange to this man and he watched as Edward slowly packed his belongings into his knapsack and then he approached him. What the librarian told him boggled the mind.He was sending him out into the night on a grand adventure, one that was too impossible to be believed. But Edward followed the librarian’s instructions and made his way to London where he became involved in the intrigue surrounding the conviction of Mary, Queen of Scots, for treason. Edward found himself in the court of Elizabeth I as the countdown to execution made its macabre march. His role was to get a message from the court to Mary’s son, James VI, King of Scotland. Should this message not get through in time there was thought the army that had been raised by Mary would launch an attack on the English court. Mary was guilty of many offenses in her life and in her time she brought terrible repute to her people, but her son was no better in his own way. He was an arrogant and proud young man who had no real relationship with his mother. She had abdicated the Scottish throne to him under duress and now she believed that he could possibly sit on the throne of England one day as she, herself, had plotted to do for so long. No one is sure of what was in the message or even if it had come from Elizabeth herself or had been an attempt by the court to prevent an uprising. Most believe it was a simple barter, urging James to keep his mother’s supporters in line in exchange for something he himself wanted. For whatever reason, Edward was tasked with delivering the message into the hands of the king’s liaison in the English countryside. On February 8, the execution order was carried out with no interference from Mary’s loyal subjects or from her son. While it is impossible to say what could have happened, all Edward knew was that everything went as history had recorded it. He didn’t know if he had made a difference or not. Had he prevented bloodshed in the defense of a traitor? Or had he been a pawn stopping the resistance and allowing a woman’s death when it might have been prevented, even by war? He struggled with the questions that were circling in his mind and when he returned to find the librarian he sat down to wait for him, determined to get answers. The librarian didn’t appearright away and as the shadows of evening grew longer Edward grew more tired. He settled into a comfortable chair to wait and once again the peaceful library lulled him to sleep. When he awoke he found the librarian standing over him holding a stack of books about the great philosophers.
“Sorry to disturb you, young man, but I found the volumes you were interested in,” the old librarian said with a chuckle.
“Volumes?”
“For your paper. Before your catnap you told me you needed the most complete works I could find on Aristotle and Plato. Here they are,” responded the librarian.
After more back and forth it became apparent the old man either didn’t know or wouldn’t admit that he knew what Edward was talking about with regard to Mary and Elizabeth. He’d just been digging in the stacks for these books, he told him. Edward jotted some notes from the books and tucked them into his bag so he could finish the paper later. He wasn’t ready to work on it just yet. He assumed he’d been asleep longer than he thought and that he’d had a very vivid dream.
I wish I had a history paper to write tonight instead of philosophy. I feel like I could write that just from the memory of my dream
.
He bid the librarian goodnight and walked out into the misty night. As he walked he began to get a chill and he reached into his knapsack for
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