Time's Legacy (15 page)

‘She is a member of our household, Flavius! And our friend,’ Lydia retorted briskly. She spoke to the young woman in an undertone, using her own language and the girl nodded with a glance at Flavius which looked anything but friendly.

Petra giggled. ‘Sorcha will bring her brothers up tomorrow if you are not careful, Mama,’ she said, using the same tongue. She looked insolently at her uncle. ‘Do you want her to send one of them to find Papa?’

Lydia stood for a moment looking down into the fire, torn with indecision. Then she looked up. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Please, Sorcha, will you do that? We need him here.’

Sorcha nodded. Grabbing a cloak from a peg on the wall by the door she threw it round her shoulders and ducked outside.

‘Sent her for reinforcements?’ Flavius sneered.

‘I have sent her to find Gaius,’ Lydia said crisply. ‘Presumably it is your brother you want to see?’

‘I’m in no hurry,’ he said. ‘The years have been kind to you. I admit that girl has young flesh and looks as though she would warm someone’s bed very nicely, but it’s you I have always loved.’

Petra let out a little gasp. Flavius glanced at her. ‘I am sorry, child. But it is best you know. Your mother was mine before ever your father set eyes on her.’

‘That is not true, and you know it.’ Lydia’s eyes were blazing.

‘Did I not befriend you first? Was it not me who brought you home to meet my family?’

‘I seem to remember, Flavius,’ she took, a deep breath, ‘that it was my sister you set your cap at. You were never interested in me until Gaius fell in love with me. You always wanted everything he had. The moment he showed an interest in me you dropped my sister and nothing would please you but that you took me away from him. But it didn’t work, did it! And it has never worked. I love your brother more than life itself and I always will. And I detest you. You know that. We have moved clean across the world to avoid you!’

‘And I have found you at last.’ Flavius sat down on a bench on the far side of the fire pit and stuck his feet out towards the embers. ‘There is only one person standing between us, my darling, remember that.’ He glanced across the fire at Petra who was staring at them open-mouthed. ‘So, you don’t remember the warm balmy nights in Damascus, child, when your mother and I dallied by the fountains while your father was away? Your birth came between us. It was very inconvenient.’

Petra was staring from Flavius to her mother and back. ‘Mama?’

‘Take no notice of him, Petra. It’s what he does best. Making trouble. Stirring up enmity between people. Lying.’ Lydia folded her arms as she stood looking down at him. ‘Perhaps you should leave, Flavius. You are not welcome in this house.’

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ Flavius didn’t bother to look up at her. ‘You have a duty of hospitality to your brother-in-law, Lydia, and I will stay here as long as I need to. I need a drink. Can you stand up and fetch me one, child, or are you a complete cripple?’ His words were deliberately cruel.

Petra flushed scarlet. ‘I –’

‘Sit still, Petra,’ Lydia said sharply. ‘I will pour some wine for us all.’ She walked across to a side table. Taking three goblets from a shelf she poured wine from a jar, mixing into one the last of the medicine from the flask for Petra.

With her own goblet she went to sit down in a wicker chair as far from her brother-in-law as possible.

He drained his goblet at once. She saw him consider holding it out to her for a refill. He thought better of it and stood up himself, going across to the sideboard and picking up the jar. ‘I knew where you all were,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘That was the irony of being sent here. I’ve known for five years that Gaius had settled in the Pretannic Islands. I just could not be bothered to trek across the world to find you. I went to see the seer in Rome on my way back and she confirmed it, looking into her scrying bowl.’ Refilling his goblet for the third time he resumed his seat. ‘I’m still with the elite force of Herod Antipas in Caesarea. One of our jobs is to find people and it would hardly be a good recommendation if I could not find my own brother.’

‘So, if you did not come to find us,’ Lydia said coldly, ‘who did you come to find?’

‘A Jewish troublemaker. Tiberius is very insistent that the eastern Empire is strongly held. Where insurrection is seen to be brewing we clamp down on it hard and fast.’

‘And what is your Jewish troublemaker doing so far away from home?’ Lydia glanced at Petra to make sure she was sipping her wine.

‘Good question!’ Flavius grinned broadly. ‘He is something of a scholar, this young man. And a wanderer. I have followed him all over the place! First to Egypt, where he was too well-guarded to get near him, then he came back to Judea but before I knew it he was off again. This time he followed the silk road east, where I lost him for a couple of years.’ He frowned. ‘Then I heard he was retracing his steps. He took ship in Antioch, heading for Gaul, then I find he has decided to come across to Britannia to study with the druids here.’

‘And you think he has come to Ynys yr Afalon?’

‘I know he has.’

‘And now you have caught up with him, what do you intend to do? Nothing good, I am sure.’

Flavius smiled. ‘The enemies of Rome have to be exterminated, Lydia. For the greater good of all and sometimes in order to keep the peace they have to be exterminated secretly.’

‘So, you are nothing more than a hired killer.’

‘I am a soldier.’ He leaned forward to set his empty goblet on the ground at his feet. ‘But you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about what I intend to do when I find him. If he is innocent, he will be safe. I need to question him, that is all, and to find out what he is doing on these extensive travels of his. If he is as he claims nothing but a scholar I shall leave him to go on his way. All you need to worry about, my dear, is finding me a comfortable bed and a decent meal. I see no signs of either being prepared and I am hungry.’ He paused for several heartbeats, then he smiled at her. ‘It will be good to see you and Gaius again.’

‘Abi? Are you all right?’

Mat’s voice swam up out of the shadows of the round house and a dog’s cold nose touched her hand. Abi stared around her, blinking.

They had gone. Lydia and Flavius and Petra, the smoking fire, the smell of warm wine and herbs. She was in the windy orchard with Mat, his hair wildly blowing round his head, and the two dogs, panting at his heels; all three were looking at her in concern. She shook her head slowly. ‘Sorry. I was miles away.’

Mat studied her face for a moment. ‘I saw you from the footpath. It’s just about time for a drink before supper, so I thought I would collect you on my way past. It’s time we initiated you into the local brew. A lethally innocuous-tasting scrumpy!’

With a smile she glanced at her wristwatch. ‘I didn’t realise.’

‘Don’t worry.’ He whistled the dogs. ‘Come on. We’ll cut up through the garden.’ He took a few steps then he stopped and turned to face her. ‘I don’t know how safe it is, Abi. Spending so much time in a day dream?’ He shrugged. ‘Cal mentioned she thought you had been in the garden a long time when she found you. If nothing else you are liable to get very cold if you stand immobile for so long in the wind. Sorry, maybe it’s none of my business.’

She laughed uncomfortably. She felt guilty, she realised. This was more than day dreaming; this was messing with the dark arts. Maybe Kier was right.

‘Don’t worry, I can handle it! But you’re right, I mustn’t let it become addictive.’ She paused, shaking her head thoughtfully. ‘It’s strange. I’ve only known of these people’s existence for such a short time – if they exist at all, that is – and yet I’m completely fascinated.’

Justin Cavendish pulled his car into the lay-by a few hundred yards from the gates to the manor and glanced at his watch. By now Mat should have been off into Taunton as he always did on the first Tuesday in the month for lunch with his former colleagues, but his car was still parked outside the front door. A preliminary cautious drive past had shown several cars in the driveway. Cal’s old battered Volvo; another small runabout – dark green and muddy – and Mat’s ancient, seen-better-days Mercedes. Both family cars were on their second time round the clock. Thoroughly un-eco-friendly but who could afford a new car these days? Justin slapped the steering wheel of his own ancient Land Rover affectionately. Living where he did it was four-wheel-drive or nothing. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. No point in going in until Mat had gone, not after the last row. He sighed. All he wanted was to pick up some books, then he would be away again. If Cal was there he would have some coffee with her, some desultory chat. If she wasn’t he would let himself in. He still had his key. Then he would be gone without them even realising he had called in. Mat never went near their grandfather’s library. Justin doubted he would notice if every single book disappeared.

Half an hour or so later, glancing in the rear-view mirror, he saw the Mercedes turn out of the gates and head away from the house. There were two people inside. He waited until it was out of sight around the corner, then he leaned forward and turned the ignition key.

The house was quiet; they must have taken the dogs with them. He grimaced; he was fond of those two animals. It took only half an hour to collect the various books he wanted. As a boy he had been the one to come up here to talk to his grandfather for hours, borrowing books, discussing them, arguing late into the night, imbibing the old man’s wisdom. His two elder brothers, while fond of the old boy, had been too busy with their own lives to bother much with the past. The history. The topography. The legends. Like their father they were more interested in their own careers. He sighed. Their father had lived here for only ten years in the end. He had died five years before and their mother, brokenhearted, had followed her husband only two years later. Mat and Ben were both more interested in the house now, but in a way it was too late. They hadn’t assimilated the background the way he had. He frowned, running his fingers along the bottom of the shelf. There was one book missing. His hand hovered over the gap where it should have been. He sighed. No matter. He could come back another time. He glanced at his watch again. There was somewhere else he had to be.

Opening the door he stepped out into the hall and stopped dead. A strange woman was running down the staircase. Tall, slim, dressed in a dark-blue shirt and jeans, her long hair loose on her shoulders, she looked like some storybook Cathie looking for her Heathcliffe. She paused, mid-stride, and her mouth dropped open. ‘Who are you?’

‘I might ask the same question.’ He lifted his bag of books onto his shoulder. ‘I live here. At least I have a pied-à-terre here. Justin Cavendish.’

‘Ah.’ She nodded. ‘The one who doesn’t get on with Mat.’

He gave a tight smile. ‘Well that knowledge at least betrays the fact that you know something of our family. You are?’

‘Abi Rutherford. I’m –’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘I am staying here for a few weeks. A paying guest.’

‘Right. Well, tell Cal I was here. Don’t mention it in front of Mat if you want to maintain your vision of him as a sane man. Tell her I’ve taken some books. That will be OK with her.’ He turned towards the front door.

‘Do you live near here?’ She wasn’t sure why she had asked, perhaps to delay him a little. He intrigued her.

‘No, I don’t,’ he replied shortly. He was tall and handsome as were his two brothers, with the same unruly thatch of hair. But whilst Ben’s and Mat’s was greying, his was fair. He must be a good ten years younger than Mat, she suspected. He reached the door and pulled it open.

‘You don’t want to have a cup of coffee, I suppose?’ she asked quietly.

If he heard he chose to ignore the question. Stepping out into the sunshine he pulled the door shut behind him leaving her standing in the passage alone.

From the top of the ancient fir Romanus spotted his father walking his horse up the track while he was still half a mile away. Shinning down the tree, the boy set off at a lope through the rain to meet him.

‘He arrived yesterday, Papa, and he brought us all presents. His baggage came this morning on a mule from Axiom. Is he very rich?’ Romanus was almost dancing round his father as they headed back towards the farmstead. ‘Look what he brought me.’ From a sheath on his belt he produced a beautifully polished dagger.

Gaius’s face had darkened as he slid from his saddle.

‘And for Petra and Mama there was real silk. Enough to make a gown each. It’s incredible. Cold like water and it slips through your fingers.’ He paused, aware suddenly of his father’s silence. ‘What is it, Papa? Is something wrong?’

‘Is your mother all right?’

Romanus nodded.

‘And Petra?’

The boy nodded again and then shrugged to qualify the assurance. ‘Petra has been feeling bad again. I went to find Mora but she wasn’t there, so I had to bring medicine from Addedomaros.’

‘And where did Flavius spend the night?’

‘By the fire, Papa.’

His father’s face tightened grimly. ‘And where is he this morning?’

‘He was eating breakfast. Mama and Petra were with him. Papa?’ The boy stood still, puzzled, as his father, tossing his horse’s rein to him, began to run, splashing through the puddles on the track. It was several seconds before he pulled himself together and followed, dragging the horse behind him.

Flavius was eating a bannock by the fire, a beaker of ale at his side as Gaius pushed his way through the curtain at the doorway and came in, panting. The visitor looked up with a sardonic grin. ‘So, you have come home at last. I suspect your wife would have forgotten what you looked like were I not here to remind her!’ He threw the bannock down onto the plate on the stool beside him and stood up.

‘Gaius!’ Lydia rose to her feet. She ran to her husband and put her arms around him. ‘Where have you been?’

‘I was engaged in a business deal which took longer than I expected,’ Gaius replied grimly. ‘The price of metals is rising. I got the miners from Iscalis a good deal on their lead and silver. So, brother. Why are you here?’