By This Sign

By Shannon D. Pearson, Terri Walters, Darlene Franklin and 6 more

By This Sign

This is the sign of life and death. Beginning and the end. Alpha and omega. Now—it's the only way you will ever get home again. Let the adventure begin.

The Princess and the Pauper by Shannon D. Pearson

After being ignored, Jamila breaks off her engagement with Karsten. Will their relationship survive the trials of medieval England?

Faith and Family by Terri Walters

As Faith sorts through her deceased grandma's belongings, she is abruptly shoved back in time to the Oregon Trail, 1845; there, she discovers more about her family—and herself— along the way.

It's in the Air by Darlene Franklin

A birthday flight takes Mina to October 28, 1929. She must help her great grandparents prepare for the coming Great Depression—together.

Second Chance by Bill Garrison

Brian gets the chance to go back in time to save the woman he loves from meeting the man that would ruin her life. But, perhaps that isn't the future God had in mind for him after all.

A Time to Stand by T. J. Radle

Suddenly transported to the immediate aftermath of Christ's return, Christen Cohen finds herself part of a handful of people asking, "Why were we left behind?"

The Time of God's Favor by B. M. Stevenson

When archeologist turned time-traveler, Simon, discovers a relic that gives him unlimited access to the past, he indulges himself by exploring events across history. But what is he really looking for?

Superposition by Robert Andrew Stevenson

Harnessing the power of an ancient Gaelic artifact and quantum mechanics, Dr. David Torstein is able to force history to bend to his will. But playing God can have unexpected consequences.

Contingency by Kat Lewis

The year is 3020 and a deadly virus has decimated a third of the world's population. A top secret government agency sends me, Alexa Verone, back in time to destroy the virus' creator.

In Hoc Signo by Chris Tarpley

He is a servant of the Great Light in a distant epoch, but the Enemy forces him to flee through time for his very soul. In a tower thrumming with eldritch energy, discover how it all began.

• Language: English
• Publisher: OCFW Writers
• Release date: Dec 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393425083

Book preview

The Princess and the Pauper

By Shannon D. Pearson

––––––––

Pops Soda Ranch, Route 66. Arcadia, OK

Touchdown! Karsten shouted. His team had broken the tie with a minute to spare. Cheers broke out among other excited fans in the restaurant and store.

Have you heard a word I said?

Karsten looked across the table. Jamila’s eyes flashed with anger.

He scrambled to remember her last remark. We were talking about Spring Break.

Her lips, drawn in a straight line, said otherwise.

Karsten’s phone rang with James’ ringtone, and he connected the call. Hey, Dude, did you see that play?

A-may-zing! James replied.

Jamila cleared her throat. Oh, right. Date night.

I’ll call you back.

She shook her head. This is pointless, why do I keep trying? She tapped a finger on the table between them. I guess we’re done if all you do is ignore me.

Jamila, I don’t ignore you—

Lie to yourself all you want. But stop lying to me. Her eyes shone with tears as she slid her engagement ring off and set it on the table. Then she stood and walked toward the door.

What just happened? Everything had been going perfectly. Karsten grabbed the ring and his coat from the back of his seat and rushed after her. She is the one and there is no one else. God, help me to get her back.

People kept getting in the way, blocking his path to her. Jamila turned back at the door, a strange look on her face. Then the door opened and shut, and she was gone. Finally reaching the exit, he noticed a golden symbol above the door handle. Odd. He’d never noticed that before. Hurrying through, Karsten stepped outside into the woods.

The woods? Where was the parking lot?

What just happened? Karsten turned back, but Pops was gone. No gas pumps, no parking lot, no glowing soda bottle, just a dirt road through the forest. It was spring, not winter, and his coat had vanished. His hands shook as he scanned the trees for anything familiar. Where was he? What happened? Was this for real?

A few feet away stood Jamila in an elegant blue gown, her golden hair flowing down her back. She was picking a bouquet of wildflowers. Questions flew through his head. How could she be so calm? Where were they? What happened? They didn’t even know where they were!

He reached for his phone. Gone. With sweaty palms, he checked all of his pockets... Wait. He had no pockets. His clothes were different, patched and faded, and his feet were bare. He had nothing. No pockets, no phone, no wallet. Nothing.

Jamila?

She looked up, startled. Then, anger filled her eyes. Get away from me.

He hurried toward her. Wait, Jamila. Ouch, rock.

She ran in the opposite direction, flowers trailing behind. He worked to close the gap. A rumbling noise drew his attention. He looked to see if a storm was coming, but no. The sky was clear. The noise grew louder.

The next thing he knew, his arms were in a vice-like grip and he was lifted up between two horses, the riders holding his arms. Karsten fought to be free. Someone threw him over a horse, then tied and gagged him.

Horses galloped past them, gaining on Jamila. No, they’d get her, too! He fought harder, but to no avail. The horsemen surrounded her, forcing her to a stop, but no one touched her.

Milady, said a regally dressed man with a green cloak. Your assailant is captured. You are safe.

Assailant? Me? That jerk is the one who attacked us.

Jamila glanced back to see Karsten staring at her with craned neck. Thank you, milord. She curtsied.

Where is your escort? A lady as beautiful as you shouldn’t be on the road alone.

I...

Was she blushing? Come on! That guy was the enemy!

Lady...?

Jamila.

Lady Jamila. I am Lord Slaven. You shall ride with me to my castle. He helped her into the saddle before him.

Lord Slaven, here, one of Karsten’s captors called. The man pulled a string from around Karsten’s neck. Jamila’s ring was on it. Karsten struggled, trying to speak.

So we have a thief, Lord Slaven accused.

Nay, milord, Jamila said. It was mine, I must have dropped it.

Was. The word pierced Karsten’s heart as Lord Slaven gave it to Jamila. She slid it on her right hand, deepening the wound in his heart.

+++

Jamila had prayed to be away from Karsten. As far as possible. The Jerusalem Cross above the door handle had been an answer to that prayer. A distant place and time. Days to listen for God’s direction.

Lord, I thought when I stepped into medieval England, there would be no distractions. A peaceful forest with spring flowers. Such a nice escape from winter’s cold.

But Karsten had followed. Why? This was her special time with God. Her special place with God. Why did You let him invade it?

She wore a circlet. She was a lady of high standing. There was always some clue as to the part she would play on these trips.

But Karsten was in dirty, patched clothes. Why was he a peasant? What part was he to play? And why was he here?

Once inside the castle gates, Lord Slaven escorted her to a nice parlor. A woman brought them a tray with tea and fresh fruit and cheese. Jamila looked him over as he poured them some tea. He was a handsome man, slightly young for his position.

Have you traveled far? he asked. Do I need to send scouts to find your escort?

I’m afraid it’s quite complicated. But there is no need for scouts. No one is searching for me. Everything is as it should be. Well, almost everything.

I don’t understand. There must be some way I can help you.

You would be most kind to show me hospitality until my sojourn begins again.

That you shall have. He turned to the woman standing by the wall. Vivian, see that rooms are prepared for our guest.

Yes, milord. Vivian stepped out, spoke to another servant and was back in place momentarily.

What is this journey you are on?

Finally a question she could answer fully. I seek wisdom from the Lord God. I will continue until He answers me.

He nodded. A wise pursuit. A knock interrupted any more he might have said. Yes? A man entered, and Lord Slaven stood and nodded to her. Milady, please excuse me. There is urgent business I must attend to. Vivian will see to all your needs.

Jamila nodded. After the men left, she turned to the thin woman against the wall. Vivian?

Her head raised, revealing a likeable face. Yes, milady.

Come sit with me.

But milady, I—

Please, I have no companion and I wish to talk to someone.

Reluctantly, Vivian obliged.

Jamila poured a cup of tea and handed it to her. Tell me about your master, Lord Slaven. Does he fear the Lord?

Oh, yes, milady. He is honest and fair in all of his dealings.

Good, I’m safe here. God had kept her safe on every journey, but she was always cautious in new surroundings. And she was always eager to meet new people.

What is your favorite place in the castle? Jamila asked.

+++

Karsten’s head spun as he was tugged off the horse and back to his feet. When he got his bearings, he felt the knots loosen. They were untying him. The bindings fell to the dirt, and he ran, pushing through the men like the quarterback about to score. The end zone was the open gates at the far end of the courtyard. He had to get through there and keep running. Another dozen football fields. Could he run that far? He never found out. The gates shut. Men tackled him. It was over.

No, it had only begun. They secured him, and the beating began. Feet and fists came at him from all directions.

What’s the meaning of this? Lord Slaven had returned.

Milord, look at this chaos he caused. He pushed many of us over as he tried to escape.

I see. His voice was stern. I don’t know who you think you are, peasant. But I will not tolerate insubordination. He turned to another man. Take him to the dungeon.

What? Dungeon? Was this for real? Where on earth were they?

Clearly, Karsten and Jamila weren’t in Oklahoma anymore. But where they’d landed—and when—was a mystery. If they had intruded on an elaborate Hollywood set, they would certainly have been yelled at, but not captured by actors who stayed in character. And beaten... Was Slaven serious about the dungeon?

They hoisted him up and started down a maze of corridors.

Jamila. Everything about her fit so well in this new place. He couldn’t get the vision of her out of his mind. The dress, her long hair—everything enhanced her natural beauty. Where had they taken her? Was she all right? Lord Slaven had led her away, treating her like a queen. How would Karsten find her? And if he did find her, how on earth would they get home?

This was crazy.

The guards tossed him in a cell like a sack of potatoes against the hard stone. The door clanked shut. Karsten pulled his sore body up and tried to open it. Of course it was locked. No one throws someone in a dungeon and doesn’t lock it. A small cell, no bed, just a smell he didn’t want to identify.

Trapped. Alone. Something skittered across his foot. Great, a roommate of the rodent variety.

+++

As Vivian settled in and became more comfortable, Jamila asked about the flowers and trees in the castle’s gardens, finding Vivian had a love for plants.

You must show me around the gardens one day, Jamila said as Lord Slaven reentered. He sat nearby.

Yes, milady. Instantly, Vivian sat straight, clearly uncomfortable again. Jamila could tell she wanted go back to her place at the wall.

Jamila turned to Lord Slaven. Vivian kept me company in your absence. She knows every plant on your grounds. That’s amazing! Would he object to her familiarity with Vivian? She knew it wasn’t the norm and hoped it would not cause trouble for Vivian. She liked the woman.

He nodded distractedly.

Jamila turned back to Vivian. Tell me about those pretty plants—

Lord Slaven interrupted. How much do you know about the peasant who was with you?

Jamila froze and turned her attention to him. How much should she say? What would he expect? She couldn’t tell him the truth.

He accosted my men, Lord Slaven continued. If he were one of my servants, I’d have whipped him.

Jamila bit her lip. Had he hurt Karsten? I can’t excuse his behavior, but please be merciful.

I have been. But I will not continue to tolerate such behavior. If he cannot become a useful servant, he will have to go.

Jamila nodded. It was clear that she couldn’t protect Karsten from his own actions. If Lord Slaven kicked him out, there was a chance Karsten would starve.

+++

Bread. Water. A hint of light. Daylight or torch? With no windows, Karsten wasn’t sure. Since he couldn’t keep the days straight, he was counting meals. Hunger kept him awake. Only after eating the bread could he sleep. A little.

He’d been fed five times. Definitely not three meals a day. Were they only bringing bread daily? If so each day felt like a week.

Father, come fill me up, or take me to be with You and out of this misery. How many times had he prayed this? He cried out to God with no hope of escaping death. The food wasn’t enough and his strength was waning.

Why? Why am I here?

No answer, as usual.

Why am I some starving peasant while Jamila feasts with the lord of the castle? Shouldn’t I be the same status that she is?

You are a child of the Most High King, yet you are not acting like My son.

An answer, praise God. But... Karsten’s mind raced. Not acting like God’s son? If I am not His son, then who am I? A worthless peasant? That’s not who I was back home. Home. Will I ever see home again?

God, teach me to be Your son. Please. Show me what I’m doing wrong.

+++

The smoke of a dying candle gently rose to the chapel ceiling. Slowly turning the precious pages, Jamila read from the Book. She loved how language was never an issue on her trips. French, German, even the Latin of this Bible, all came through as if she were reading from a modern English translation. Another way God provided for her.

Jamila had been here since early morning. She prayed, read Scripture, prayed some more. God wasn’t speaking.

That wasn’t true. He was speaking, but not with the answers she sought. Nothing about Karsten or how to handle their current situation.

Jamila lifted her head as Vivian entered. It must have been dinner time. Another day gone. How long had it been? A fortnight? It didn’t usually take this long for God to impart His message.

A thousand years in Your sight are like a day that has just gone by...

She’d just read that verse in Psalms. She knew God’s timing was His alone, but that didn’t make waiting any easier.

Why hadn’t He answered about Karsten? What did He want her to learn from this trip? Was she allowing Lord Slaven’s attention to distract her? Jamila admitted to herself that she enjoyed her time with him. He listened and was always present in mind and body. He was a wonderful host.

––––––––

+++

Karsten wasn’t going to complain. It was good to see the sun again. Fresh air filled his lungs, and food his stomach.

Jamila must have convinced them to be lenient on him. If this could be considered lenient. The trials of this place were far from over.

Shoveling manure in the stables was far from pleasant. There was the stench, of course, and well, the manure itself. If he could find a way back home, he would not put this experience on his resume. The horses were nice enough, but the other workers avoided him. The stable master yelled at him when he didn’t keep up the pace of the other stable hands.

Miserable. He was filthy, sweaty, and miserable. His muscles ached as he used the pitchfork to spread new hay. Pulling it toward him, he caught his pants, ripping the already patched clothes. He took a step back and sank into something mushy. Gross.

You really need to watch where you step, Karsten, he muttered, wiping his foot in the dirt.

Complain, he shouldn’t complain. He was out of the dungeon, even if he was made to work like a mule.

He moved to the next stall, picked up the shovel, and began again. Monotonous, tiring, the job never ended. Another shovelful. Some fell off and hit his pants. As if I don’t already stink to high heaven. He’d asked about a bath and been laughed at. Karsten reached for his phone for the hundredth time, then shook his head. You’re addicted, Karsten, admit it. It’s gone, just like everything else, including Jamila.

Several days had passed since they’d brought him out of the dungeon. He hadn’t seen her once, hadn’t heard her name. He didn’t even know if she was still there. Working from dawn to dusk, even if there were any energy left to be used, he wasn’t about to sneak around the castle looking for Jamila. Then they’d really