Winds of Time by Sarah Woodbury Page B

hadn’t improved with time, and this journey felt (if
possible) worse.
    I was so miserable that I didn’t remember to
ask for help from the physician until after we left Keill Moirrey.
It was the captain’s comment, “Rough sea ahead!” that reminded me.
I leapt to my feet and knocked on the door of the other cabin.
    “ Come in.” The words were in
English.
    I opened the door and stepped through it,
finding myself in a space equal in size to mine, with its own
hammock and table. An older man with a beard and long gown sat in a
chair near the starboard window. He got to his feet as I entered,
and greeted me with a bow. I curtsied, which seemed to surprise
him, and he suggested I sit in the only other chair in the
room.
    I sat and for a minute we just looked at
each other.
    He spoke first, again in English. “I am
Aaron ben Simon.” Then, with a wry smile, he added, “I confess you
are not what I expected.”
    I’d heard that a lot recently. “How is
that?” I said.
    “ The captain led me to
believe that you were a widow with two grown children. I had
envisioned a woman with more years to her. You are young and
beautiful.”
    If I were on the internet, I
would have typed LOL . That was one of the nicest things anyone had said to me in a
long time. I should have been used to everyone’s reaction to my
appearance by now, but I kept forgetting. Life was hard for women
in the Middle Ages, even those who were rich. By comparison, the
twenty-first century provided a very soft life, and that was
reflected in my face, and as Edyth had noticed, my
hands.
    I smiled and thanked him. “My name is Meg,
and I assure you that I am long widowed. I am thirty-seven years
old, though few have believed this of me of late.”
    Aaron’s eyes smiled, even if his mouth
didn’t. “How is it that you were in England?”
    All of a sudden, I realized
he was the first person I had met here who was really looking
at me and talking
to me ; not to a
preconception of me that included woman, widow, and dependent
person. It made me wonder who Aaron was and if he was
representative of the Jewish community in England. I knew he was
probably well educated; certainly he was literate if he was a
doctor.
    I had a sudden compulsion to tell him the
truth—the real truth—but I clamped my lips together and fought the
feeling. He watched me, and I decided that some truth was better
than none.
    “ Please forgive me my
silence,” I said. “I would rather not lie to you, and that means I
can’t tell you anything of myself. Will you accept me as I am for
the time being? Hopefully, when we arrive in Wales, I can tell you
more of my history.”
    Aaron graciously tipped his head. I sighed
in relief.
    “ I was hoping that you could
help me with my seasickness,” I said. “I understand that you are a
doctor?”
    “ Yes.” His expression grew
concerned. “But I am forbidden to practice on
Christians.”
    “ English Christians,” I
reminded him, “which I am most definitely not. We are also no
longer under the jurisdiction of England, so perhaps you would
consider helping me?”
    “ I would be delighted to
assist you.” Aaron rose to his feet. “If you give me a moment, I
will find something that should stem your nausea.”
    “ Thank you.” I watched as he
went to a trunk, pulled out a large book, and began to page through
it.
    “ What is that book?” I said,
after a minute.
    “ A Greek text,” Aaron said,
without turning around. “Why do you ask?”
    “ That’s too bad. I can’t
read Greek.”
    Aaron almost dropped the book. “You read,
Madam? In what language?”
    “ In English, Welsh, French,
and Spanish,” I said. “And Latin.”
    Aaron stared at me, and I
couldn’t help feeling pleased. Finally , someone who appreciated my
particular talents. Young and beautiful was all very well and
good—but smart was better. It hadn’t always been that way for me,
which is probably why I’d allowed myself to fall for Anna’s father,
but