Cursed Bones

Chapter 6: Where in time is my missing ex-boyfriend?

One year earlier
"I told you to go the fuck home," I said, hugging myself, as I stood in the rain outside the funeral parlor.
"I don't have to do what I'm told. Get in the damn car," Rush said, window rolled down.
I crawled in, dripping wet, sniffling. I said nothing. I was still dripping was and tears were running down my face.
"Let's go have a drink all right?" He asked, looking over at me, "You all right?"
I nodded, even though I clearly wasn't.
"Look you don't have to talk about it, but it's my option to get you drunk all right?" He asked.
"Why?" I muttered, well aware i hadn't given him any context just asked for a ride to a funeral parlor because my car was broken down.
"Because you look like you need a drink? And I'm your friend? That's all the information I need," he said.
"I just want to go home," I said, putting my head in my hands.
"Okay," he said, pulling out into traffic.
I stared at the glowing fluorescent lights of the car clock, "You waited for three hours?"
"Yeah, I wasn't going to leave you to drive home in an Uber from a funeral parlor, for whatever reason," he said.
"It was a friend of my dad's. He was—basically an uncle. He was cool, my father was you know, always gone. So, he taught me how to drive one summer it's—it sounds so stupid," I sighed.
"No it's not," he said, gently, "Was it sudden?"
"Yeah ah, he was murdered," I said. I left out that it was being shot by police. I left a lot out too.

Present day
But he left out so much more. And now I'm left picking up the pieces.
I have two ways to get back to 1810.
One. I go and do an unscheduled jump by breaking in and hoping that Riker and Doc are actually not in the lab, and risking upsetting them which is bad because as much as I don't like to admit it I'm emotionally reliant on them being happy with me because I'm incredibly needy and need everyone to like me constantly.
Two. I go and lie and say I have a lead and talk them into letting me go back to 1810 which is bad because I'm bad at lying in English and they know me and my bullshit.
I'm going to do the second one, see my need for attention and overwhelming need for all the people on the planet to like me. That does not apply to Elgin's Men because, and this is very interesting, they are not in fact, people.
I get dressed and pack up. I leave the window a crack and fill up the food dishes and make sure the sink is dripping for Cesare. I consider texting Anna but decide against it. She'd know I'm up to something, for one thing, for another she would insist on helping and that is not what I want. She doesn't need to get mixed up in this, it's bad enough I'm getting myself mixed up in it. And I don't even know if it'll work or not. It's not worth the risk. I'm accepting the risk he's my dumb ex-boyfriend. And my dumb idea.
I text Riker that I want to meet at the lab and jog to Skagit Valley college. I did arm myself with another knife. Honestly the first one proved useful, and at this point I know Elgin's men are trying to kill me. I need some sort of weapon even if Riker chooses to be a pacifist.
He and Doc meet me at the lab, realistically they don't look like they've left.
"What's going on?" Riker asks.
"Something Warwick said before my cat ate his face—I think that they may have jumped Rush back to 1810," I lie.
"Why?" He asks.
"He mentioned Constantinople, where our mutual friend is, who might know something," I say, folding my arms, "It was a passing comment but—I'd like to try. It doesn't hurt to go have a look." I feel a bit bad for the lie, but he'd never let me go on the hunch. The hunch which is founded on the fact that I really don't trust him at the moment. I think he knows more about Rush's mysterious jumps than he claims, Doc too for that matter.
Doc shrugs a bit, like he expects I'm lying, but can't prove it, "Don't you want to wait a few days? You're probably tired after the last ordeal."
"Nah I want to get it done with. I know time doesn't count but, mentally it does," I say, "Can you jump me to Constantinople 1810?"
The exchange a look, "Yeah all right," Riker says, "Go get changed, Carol's here."
"Oh good," I wince.
Costuming Carol, our wonderful props person who makes sure we're in period garb and occasionally—
"Oww-I've been in a fight—,"
Pinches my cheek.
"You look like it as well. Is it true your cat ate Warwick's face?"
"Mostly he's scratched up pretty bad," I say, "1810? What I wore last time is fine."
"Don't be ridiculous you can't show up in the same clothes everytime. I have a new suit for you."
"Okay—then," I say.
"Go get showered off," Carol instructs, pushing me towards the locker room.
I obey, going and showering and changing into the loose underwear, this knife is from my dad, so easily concealed under clothes. I use K-tape to tape it to the middle of my back. Not at all period and a massive no-no. But, I'm bending rules at the moment if it means coming back alive and getting Rush back alive. Also I don't plan on using it. After walking around 1502 Italy like yesterday in a pair of jeans and Under armor combat boots, I'm a bit jaded so far as accuracy. A bit of k-tape on my back will not hurt.
(K-tape is a sticky athletic tape made mostly for support for injuries, though it can work in lieu of a bra/binder, or as a bandage over a bad injury or scar, since it's waterproof. I've used it over cuts to go swimming, it's pricey but it does the trick and I keep some on hand mostly to tape up sore muscles, however it can also be used to conceal items like I'm doing with the knife. It's not meant for that so it's only so sticky, but I use a few pieces and am pretty careful, I don't expect it to last forever. If you already knew that yay you, if not well now you've learned something. Tape a knife up properly it won't be noticed in a pat down, tape a smaller item like a paper clip or skeleton and use flesh colored tape, you might be able to pick your way out of handcuffs. This PSA was brought to you by Sharpe School of Public Menaces)
Carol fusses over my hair and bring me yes she made me new clothes that's really nice.
"If I'm not back will you check on Cesare? I promised him more tuna after he ate the Elgin Man's face," I say.
"Of course, I will. But come back," she says, finishing putting on a tie for some reason.
Wow, gee, Finlay, you don't talk about historical fashions much at all. That is because I'm very stupid. Like deep down I'm a total idiot. And it takes a lot of brain to make four languages and a lot of world history go and I don't have that much brain. I have a passing knowledge of fashions and that is it, this is what we have Carol for she makes sure we look right because understanding historical fashions is a full time job. Why? Well everything matters, from type of bra for the ladies, to the fabrics that were common per region, to what colors signified. It's a lot and I'm very tired. Anyway.
Basic rules of fashion:
Up till modern times (talking 1800s here), white was cheapest color fabric you could buy. Black and purple the most expensive. Reason? Dye cost. Ergo if we're blending in, in most places, we're wearing white drab garb. We don't want to look like nobility. Up till modern times (again talking 1600sish on) women didn't wear bras per say as we know them, there might be a supportive garment built into a dress/undergarment, or a tight wrapping of cloth as needed. Shoes have varied but practical boots look the same most places, unless you get to super marshy places (Wales, Scotland) in which case you're barefoot to prevent trenchfoot, or you're in the desert in which case sandals to prevent trenchfoot from your own sweat. Your wallet is a little leather bag of coins. Now all that looks massively different as you travel space and time, but also, some of that stuff is universal.
That was a very basic very fast run down. Because I am bad at this. I'd never pass in another century without Carol and her mastery of different costumes. Oh and ah, again until the industrial age? Most clothes are hand sewn. Yeah that looks way different than modern clothes but it has the added bonus(ish) of clothes winding up being mostly custom if you have any amount of money.
Knight's Tale didn't lie to you, in the beginning when the characters are poor, they're in these super baggy white shirts. Why? Well they didn't even sew those themselves they just got them somewhere so it's way too big and it's white 'cause it's cheap. When they have some money and Heath Ledger's character goes to the dance? It's a custom sewn tunic because it's made for him so it's fitted and looks better. Since we're trying to look like we belong strolling in halfway fancy places, our clothes have to be custom sewn, often by hand.
Transportation in any ergo but again, the last few hundred years? Your own two feet. We don't have horses. And unless I'm in 1300s france I can't find a Plantagenet King or Prince who will give you a horse if you're entertaining over a cup of ale. And that isn't even an approved method of getting transportation. To that end, our shoes, while they look period, are usually reinforced and if Carol has the time, have orthopedic souls.
Minor side bar over. Back to rescuing my ex-boyfriend. I need him all right so I can be angry with him. And ask him who he was buying a ring for.
Dressed and ready, I once again enter the chamber. Doc supplies me with the cuff bracelet, but this time he gives me an extra.
"Just in case," he says.
I nod in thanks, tucking it into my coat pocket. I'm well aware it's not likely I'll find Rush. But I appreciate he took the time to program the thing.
"Ready?" Riker asks.
"Ready," I nod.
And once again I'm filled with the familiar internal jiggling, the feeling of your entire body resetting to this time only a short couple hundred years ago.
And I'm back on a street in Constantinople. Later it will be Istanbul, there's a song about that, for no real reason look it up if you want an ear worm. Right now it's busy, packed with people. And I'm making my way to a familiar pub. We've jumped back to this time period before, to fuck with Elgin's men and to get information. Our ah, founder, is usually giving himself alcohol poisoning in one particular drinking establishment.
I can't express enough that yes, this is modern day Turkey, but I'm not up on all the regime changes that made Constantinople, Istanbul, but in short, it's a Colonizer thing. Like it was colonized by Constantine way back when, the native people call it Istanbul, so it is. I'm white, Europe is therefore my usual thing and frankly, it's not my story to tell. I try to be respectful and give accurate information as needed but the Middle East and even Egypt are not my realms of expertise, I can just appreciate them.
I step into the, well, it's a bar. Yes I'm blonde haired and blue eyed, no I don't stand out. First of all people from Turkey can be fair, for another thing this area of the city and this drinking establishment in general is peopled with foreigners. I find my very famous one at a corner table, definitely a few drinks in and it's only mid afternoon.
"My lord," I bow, nearly grinning,
"I've been expecting you," he grins as well, raising his glass.
George Gordon, Lord Byron. You know Ada Lovelace's father? Ada Lovelace the mother of modern computing technology? Surely you've heard of her without her you wouldn't have the iPhone you're probably reading this on.
All right. Had to do that for the sake of feminism. Here's a little run down on why I called him our founder, and why I know him.
George Gordon, known commonly as Lord Byron, English poet, famous for a variety of works. Notably to us he wrote "Miranda's Curse" to criticize Lord Elgin stealing the marbles from Greece. Born in England, Lord Byron would leave partially due to massive debts, and he would settle in Italy and Greece, as well as traveling to Turkey which is where I find him. Very adventurous life summed up, he loved Greece, he was protective of the culture hence the poem, he heavily criticized Elgin's theft. Greece would wind up loving him, to the extent that the greek form of Byron is still a popular boy's name today. He participated in revolutions with them and in general became the country's favorite adopted son. So that's why we're involved with him. When Riker and Doc first tested the time jumps, Riker did it, and unintentionally ran into Byron when trying to prevent Elgin from taking the marbles. He's the only historical figure we're allowed to meet, because he knows about Miranda's Army. He doesn't know we're time traveling, he just thinks we're fellow anarchists if you like, and will offer a helping hand if we need something in the area.
Hard pause: yes. There is some scandal associated with Byron and yes we don't usually support creeps. However. Let me give a brief overview of his character and why we trust the guy.
Yes, Byron's sexual history is epic. He was fantastically bisexual.
As a boy Byron was molested not only by a nurse, but he was also at least sexually assaulted by a suitor of his mother's. He and his mother had a contentious relationship and she was cruel to him as a boy, apparently making fun of his slight limp (the limp won't really slow him down much, like our King Tutekhamun, he too suffers from a club foot). I'm going to point out here that that will shape some of his views later on.
He'll marry once, Ada Lovelace is his only legitimate child. He'll father a couple of illegitimate children but he'll take good care of all of them. he'll also have numerous affairs, but with one exception most of his affairs were with women older than him (if only by a few years) and the one who was younger than him was nineteen when the affair began, and he wasn't particularly old himself at thirty one. Bit of an age gap admittedly, but it's his only wide age gap in many affairs, and when sixteen was considered 'legal age' she was reasonably past that.
He did have an affair with his half sister. This is gross, but it was mutual apparently she was again, five years his senior and they didn't meet till they were adults.
So far as his same sex affairs, there's less information. It's known, as in he admits, that he had affairs with other men while at school and the like. That said there's nothing sordid in that, he's bisexual with apparently a high sex drive (he flirts with anything that moves, speaking from experience). There will later be talk of him 'seducing young men' that's put in by his biographers. Simply put the man lived to be thirty six—for most of his life he too was a young man! I don't really know what they mean by that. If they're implying he was molesting boys...yes he may have been. Literally anyone in world history may have been. The fact that Byron is attracted to men doesn't mean he was a sexual predator. And more than that, even know gay and bisexual men are often accused of pedophilia. Which is based off the perverted assumption that we''re sick in the head like all the straight men who ogle under age girls and count down till they're eighteen and creep on their daughter's friends.
All right, minor rant over. Being bi, or gay, or anything, has zero correlation with sexual crimes. And straight men have won the statistical war on rape. Rape is rape, it's nothing to do with sexuality. But the bias clearly colors Byron's biographers who have sketchy details to the actual crimes.
The only actual child we have linked to Byron is a boy named Nicolo Giraud. Nicolo was (supposedly) fourteen when he started working for Byron.
Which means nothing at all. A lot of people will work for Byron he's rich.
At some point, Byron puts Nicolo in his will. Nicolo teaches Byron Italian and they spend time together. Byron puts in a letter that he and the boy discuss philosophy, and that Nicolo said that he wanted to live and die with Byron. And Byron states that he replied that they would try not to die.
Which also means nothing at all. That sounds like a perfectly reasonable relationship because newsflash, not everything has to do with sex. Byron was only about seven years older than Nicolo (if our estimate of his age is off they could have been closer in age). Meaning Nicolo was fifteen or sixteen, and Byron was twenty three about, when this took place.
If they were having an affair, yes Nicolo is under age, but Byron is certainly not an old man by any means, he's quite young himself and they could have been only four years apart, with Nicolo eighteen. In which case that's like a college freshman going out with a senior. So...nothing dirty.
And that is not proof positive they had an affair. They could have very well liked one another as friends, and Byron who was something of a collector of strays (he tended to take people in, he cared for all his children, Ada would be buried beside him and he planned to be buried with another illegitimate daughter, he would keep many pets over his lifetime specifically large Newfoundland dogs, and traveling with many animals).
The same year they met and Byron hired him, he took Nicolo to a family friend who was a doctor, because Nicolo had a dangerous fever. The doctor recorded that Nicolo had injuries consistent with sexual assault. This is considered proof positive that Nicolo and Byron were in a sexual relationship. It is not. For one thing, he could have been assaulted by someone else. For another the letter about them living together comes after the fact, which seems a little odd unless Nicolo is totally brainwashed, which if Byron were capable of that level of gaslighting I think he'd have stayed married a bit longer! Could the doctor record be false? I mean possibly. I'll take it as true and again point out that doesn't mean Byron assaulted him then rushed him to an expensive doctor.
After travelling together, Byron would pay for Nicolo to attend a school, which he'd later leave, and Byron put into his will for him to get some money once he turns twenty one..which is odd because by the date of the will Nicolo is twenty one or older. He later takes it out of the will and the two lose touch completely.
None of his or Nicole's letters express anything beyond general affection. In his will Byron doesn't leave him anything else. And he leaves him at a monestary, like he isn't keeping Nicolo with him...which if he's abusing him why would he leave him at a school and then lose touch? Maybe they had a falling out we're missing or someone was withholding Nicole's letters to Byron we don't know. But either way, it's nothing expressly sexual.
Biographers will say it's a pattern of Byron abusing young boys. For one, I've not gotten the names of any others, so what makes you say it was happening? Also, taking in a kid off the street and giving him a job does not immediately equal sexual advances. Spoiler alert, queer people aren't automatically predatory. An abuse victim, which Byron was, is much more likely to want to protect others from abuse. Very very rarely do victims become abusers.
Moreover, predators usually have patterns. That is, massive ones. We're talking Henry VIII killing multiple young women after having sex with them. Like with serial killers, they don't just do it once. They keep doing it, and usually it's fairly obvious.
There's a poem of Byron's, "Don Leon", which people think is about Nicolo, it's much more likely about a couple of gay friend's of Byron's the references are pretty direct, besides which fact he mentions a couple of relationships in the poem, none imply an age gap.
Byron had his problems and he's not perfect none of us are. But. The evidence for wrong doing is clouded heavily by centuries of homophobia. Could he be a predator? Yes. Like, name your favorite historical figure I'll give you times and places they could have committed rape. Seriously yes, people are awful. But there's relatively little compelling evidence.
Longish rant over, needed to give you a biography of our main man. Point being, you're allowed to think he's really awesome, we've got no solid evidence he was a terrible person. We're all terrible people in the end probably. However much we don't want to be.
"I've been expecting you," Byron grins, lifting his glass but not bothering to rise.
"You have?" I ask, surprised, as I take a seat.
"Yes it's very mysterious and I'm completely cross with you and your friends. You come bearing strife and mysteries and give me no fine tales? It's rather rude," he says, tipping his head to get curls from his face, grinning broadly. I'm not going to lie he's completely handsome, him thinking it's a nightmare but he is.
"There is no tale to tell. I've not seen my usual companion, he's missing," I say. He knows Rush and I are an item. He knows this because Rush said it to get him to stop flirting with me because Rush was getting sick of it.
"And yet I have seen him," he says, drumming his fingers on the table, "You're always off on a clandestine meeting."
"I'll invite you to box Elgin's men when they I find them I have not," I'm going to have to flirt with him aren't I?
"I'll hold you to that, Fin. Next time you show up and if you have no mystery to follow I'll make you come swimming in ocean. I have told you I will get that vest off one way or another." See what I mean?
"He is missing, I fear for him, and will not be dissuaded with however pleasant a distractions," if I wind up letting him fuck me or making out with him it's not bad but Riker will probably personally kill me. And he'll know. He's gonna take one look at me and know.
"Oh you would come with tragedy when I can't demand a kiss in payment or something diverting," Byron sighs, like this is actually deeply painful to him. He sorts in the pocket of his coat and withdraws a small figurine. It's a gold carving, of a lion. Quite intricate, and heavy. I'm going to assume it's Egyptian based off the general style but I can't be sure.
"Rush gave you this?" I ask.
"Yes. He said Elgin's Men were after him. They don't bother me, I'm famous they can't ruin this face," see what I mean about it being a nightmare he knows he's this pretty?
"So he asked you to hide it," I say, "Did he say where it came from?"
"This was a fortnight ago. He'd come from Cairo. He said they were behind him, and he had no passage home. He begged me not to let it fall into their hands as they'd soon be in the city. Buggers have been," he says, shrugging, "He said if you came to tell you he had no passage home. Naturally I offered him the money and lodging with me but he laughed and refused. Said it would do no good and he didn't want to bring trouble to my family. I said the dogs would love eating Elgin's men but he declined, saying he was hoping to find a way home. I again pressed that I would give him money for the journey back to england or even Paris I have friends everywhere. He declined and hurried off. Said it belonged Kherfe I assume that's someone dead?"
"It is," I say, sighing. I know why he didn't stay with Byron. He was here without his cuff, and he was hoping if he could over power Elgin's men then he could get a collar and come home. "All right. Thank you."
"I take your presence to mean he didn't make it out?" Byron asks, a little sympathetically.
"No," I sigh, "May I have it? I want to put it back—that's what Rush was trying to do."
"Yes, the bastards always put their sticky hands on things that aren't theirs. Damn shame, do you know why the boy wouldn't accept help?" Byron asks.
"If I'm correct, he was still trying to get artifacts from Elgin's men," I say, "And since he didn't return for at least this, or to me, he was likely killed doing it." And Riker was right. It's a dead end.
"Damn shame," Byron says, sympathetically.
"Yes," I sigh.
"What's your plan for this fellow?" He asks, pushing it over, "Full honesty, that's been in my daughter's mouth for about a week."
"I think I'll live," I laugh, picking up the statue.
"I said I put worse things in my mouth, got no laughs whatsoever. I'm wasted on the household. Well. The dogs laughed," Byron says, taking a long drink, "Speaking of my talents not being put to use what are your plans for the night as you're in Constantinople?"
"Not the same as yours, I'm genuinely afraid," I say.
"I do recommend not fearing," Byron says, smiling seductively. He's probably not even a good kisser.
"I have to return this to its rightful owner. And then yes I will return and tell you how many Elgin's men I punched in the process," I say, holding the lion.
"Ah well. I'll retreat into my loneliness, and painful solitude—,"
I can't believe I'm doing this, "If I give you a kiss will you do what you can to see if anyone in the city knows what became of Rush or where his body may lie?"
"I was going to do that anyway but I will hold you to that kiss, now or later but be aware I charge interest," he says.
He's probably not a good kisser.
"As you will," I say, moving to the chair next to him.
He's a good kisser.
Damn he's a really good kisser.
A—well this feels like sex I'm sweating all over I think I saw the universe shift -good kisser. I'm so disappointed in me and the universe. That's really disappointing. It's not even a kiss either it's a full body 'wow do we still have our clothes' hands doing exploratory things, kiss.
"You sure you're off on your quest?" He asks, a bit pathetically, when we come up for air.
"Yes, I most definitely am, for my sanity not doing that again," I say.
"But I'm fond of madness," Byron says, putting a hand through my hair.
"I did notice," I need to go back to the 21st century and get screened for so many STDs. Like so many this is how this man operates daily. He's only twenty two here but still. He's been like this for a while. "I must put this back where it belongs. And I'll return and perhaps we'll both have news?"
"Or we'll make some," he says, "Your companion said you weren't fond of his company of late and got cross when I was pleased."
"We fell out. I still have to see if I can find some trace of him. And if his remains were here in the city—?" I ask.
"I'll ask about. Go on then," he says, patting my chest one more time, "On about your brave deeds."
"Thank you," I say, tucking the statue safely into my pocket.
He winks.
Damn he was a good kisser. Not that Rush isn't a good kisser. But like, imagine your significant other likes to sing. Of course you like their voice. It's nice. They are not however, Andrea Bocelli. You don't want Andrea Bochelli to sing you to sleep each night, you might not even like opera, but if you hear an aria, you know that's talent. It's not talent you want in your house but like, you know it's good.
And I might not get to kiss Rush again. I didn't think we'd get back together. But I want him to be okay and to work out whatever he had going on. I wouldn't have been against getting back together if he did quit lying to me. But now I know that likely won't happen.
I walk out into the street. I guess I'm going back to the 21st century? I guess, I don't know how to get to Cairo from here. We know the tomb was raided, but Egypt is Anna's thing. I need back up to return this.
The street is packed. If I can just find an alley I can—
Hands close on my arms. I struggle, but to no avail. They have me fast and nearly off the ground. A bag goes over my head and I feel myself being swiftly hauled out of the street.
I try to shout but a gag is shoved into my mouth.
"We'll take that," I recognize Warwick's voice, as he feels for the lion in my pocket. They take the cuff from my wrist, and pat me down, finding the other cuff in my pocket. "It's the end of the line, Sharpe."
I feel something pierce my arm, then everything goes black.