Time's Legacy (19 page)

Abi smiled. ‘My mother called him oleaginous.’

‘Good for your mother! Come on, Abi. Where’s your backbone! You don’t strike me as the type to cave in at the first fence!’

There was a moment’s silence. Abi took a deep breath. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I have to stand up for myself. It just shows, doesn’t it, what men do to us women if we’re not careful.’

Cal sat down opposite Abi again, studying her face with care. ‘Talk to Ben about all this. He is a genuinely good man. He’s very experienced in counselling people. I know it’s trendy to denounce counsellors but some of them do an awful lot of good.’

Abi nodded. ‘I will. I’ll ring him now.

Mora was standing lost in thought. It had happened before, this strange feeling that she had slipped somehow into another world. Lost in her own meditations, alone as she walked the fields and hills, or sat beside the waters of the fen, listening to the soft whisperings of the reed beds she would suddenly be aware of other people nearby. Other people in another world; not nature spirits, not gods, not souls of the ancestors, people just like her, going about their own business, unaware of her. Until now. Now there was another woman there in that world. A woman who had looked up and seen her. She was half afraid, half intrigued. This was a special place, a place where physical worlds conjoined, the territories of three tribes, all neighbours, all respectfully standing back from this sacred place; a place where past, present and future too overlapped and interlocked and the border between them was thin. That was why there was a college here; that was why the waters and the hills and the islands were sacred. That was why the high Tor itself was entrance to the otherworld. She shook her head, looking round. The moment had lasted only a second and then it was over. She had thought of telling Cynan about it, but somehow the right moment hadn’t come. He had been more distant lately, spending more time alone in meditation on his little island across the water near the mainland. Their easy affectionate friendship had wavered and she knew why. He was jealous of all the time she was spending with Yeshua. But then her father had put Yeshua under her supervision, as a healer like her, whilst Cynan was a studying to be a seer. She shrugged. She might be destined to marry Cynan, but that did not make her his exclusive property. She liked Yeshua. She liked him very much, they had grown closer as the months passed. Perhaps she could talk to him about it. In fact she could always talk to him; he was wise and gentle and very learned, even if from time to time he, like her, exploded with rage and frustration at the iniquities of the world around them.

She always knew where to find him. He was sitting in his accustomed place beneath the ancient yew tree which overhung the spring. He was often there, praying. He prayed more than anyone she knew. For a moment she studied his face. In repose like this, eyes closed, he radiated a serenity she found strangely disturbing. It excluded her so completely.

‘Were you looking for me?’ His eyes were still full of that other-worldliness as he registered her presence.

‘I wanted to talk to you about someone I’ve just seen.’

He raised an eyebrow, patting the ground beside him. She subsided onto the grass and sat cross-legged. ‘Someone special?’

She nodded. She never needed to explain with him. ‘I don’t know if she is a spirit or a ghost. There is something strange about her. I see her as if through clear water, in the distance. But today she was closer and our eyes met and I felt her reach out to me.’

He sat in silence for a while, staring out across the slopes of the hill below them. Two women were collecting late apples in baskets in the sunlight; she could hear their voices in the silence.

‘If she is reaching out to you, you should go to meet her,’ he said at last.

She nodded and waited in case he was going to say anything else. He too was watching the women with their baskets of fruit. ‘I need to go across to see Petronilla,’ she said at last, letting the subject drop. ‘I wondered if you would like to come and meet her and her family? Her brother was here. He left a message for me.’

‘Of course.’ He rose to his feet.

‘Where were you just now?’ She hadn’t moved.

He smiled. ‘Sometimes, when I pray for my family, I feel I can see them all there, at home. I like to check up on them. My mother and father; my brothers and sisters; touch each one on the hand.’

‘You are homesick.’ She smiled sadly.

‘A little, perhaps. I have been away a long time.’

‘You said you had to go back soon?’ She rose to her feet, clutching her cloak around her as the wind rose and snatched back her hood.

He shrugged, then nodded. ‘I had thought maybe I could take another year for my studies, but now suddenly I can feel –’ He paused, looking up at her. ‘I can feel the appointed time for me to go drawing near.’

Her heart sank. She was still studying his face. ‘And that frightens you, doesn’t it?’

He sighed. ‘God thinks I am ready.’

‘You talk about your god with my father.’

He nodded again and this time she saw the humour she loved so much surface in his eyes. ‘Your father is a learned man. That is why I came here, to study with him. His reputation has spread far across the continents. I enjoy my discussions with him. He tells me the legends of your peoples and your gods, and I tell him about the Torah, the written law and teaching of my people, the Jews. It was he who suggested that I come out here to pray alone in the sacred places of your tribe.’

‘But you do not pray to our gods.’

He shook his head. ‘My God doesn’t allow us to pray to other gods; but your father sees aspects of my great God everywhere and in everything around him. In this sacred spring; in this tree; in birds of the air; in the mountains and the hills in the storm. Where he sees gods, I see angels, caring for my father’s world. So we can talk.’ Rising to his feet, he smiled again. ‘Come, let’s go and see Petronilla. This is the child you mentioned, with the swollen joints? You have tried willow bark, of course?’

Mora punched him affectionately on the arm. ‘Of course I have tried willow bark. My medicines are the best for miles around and they work for her, that was why Romanus came to fetch me. Medicine was sent back with him, and Addedomaros promised I would go and see her as soon as I could, but I thought, maybe…’ She hesitated. ‘Maybe if you came with me, you could ask your God to heal her?’

He folded his arms. ‘Yours don’t help, then?’ He raised an eyebrow humorously.

She shrugged, refusing to rise to the bait. ‘Don’t or won’t. Who can understand why they heal one person and not another? But it occurred to me that Petra’s parents come from Rome. Maybe your God would help them.’

He gave a snort. ‘Rome is not considered a friend in my country.’

‘But Lydia and Gaius have chosen to settle with us; they have the protection of my people. You will like this family, I promise.’

‘I’m sure I will.’ He reassured her. ‘And I will do what I can, Mora. I always do, no matter from where they come or what their beliefs –’ He broke off as Cynan appeared, climbing the hillside, through the blowing leaves, the patterns of sunlight reflecting on his woollen robe.

He paused and looked at them. ‘Am I interrupting?’

‘Of course not!’ Mora could feel herself blushing as she stepped away from Yeshua. Why did Cynan always make her feel guilty when he caught them alone together?

‘I heard you might be going across to see Petra’s family. If so I was going to offer to come with you. I can distract young Romanus from making sheep’s eyes at you while you talk to her.’

Mora hesitated. It was Yeshua who stepped back. ‘I think it would actually be better if you two went. I have work to do on my hut. It needs substantial repairs before the storms you have warned me about begin. Even if I am no longer here, someone will want my house and I wouldn’t want to leave them a ruin.’ He smiled.

‘But you were going to help me with Petra!’ Mora couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice.

‘I will pray for her. And there will be other times when I can come and see her. I have arranged for one of the wattle men to show me how you weave your walls. It fascinates me and my house is full of holes!’ He laughed. ‘I know. But I enjoy working with my hands. I used to watch the builders working near our home when I was a boy; my father is a master mason and woodworker.’ He was already moving away from them. He raised his hand in blessing and began to stride down the hillside.

Mora turned away from Cynan with a frown. ‘You just can’t resist it, can you!’

‘What?’

‘You hear I am going out to visit patients with Yeshua and you have to interfere! Are you jealous or something?’

Cynan looked at the ground. His face had turned puce. He shook his head. ‘Of course not. I’m sorry. I didn’t realise he would change his mind if I came too. I’ll go after him if you like and say I’m not coming.’

‘No!’ She shook her head. ‘No, don’t bother.’

‘Is he really leaving soon?’ He looked at her anxiously.

She nodded. Taking a deep breath she made herself smile. ‘As it happens he looked as though he was quite pleased to stay behind. I’ll go and fetch my bag of medicines then you can paddle the dugout for me.’ Relenting, she caught his arm. ‘You’re right. Romanus is beginning to be a bit of a pain. He’s growing up and noticing women for the first time. I just wish it wasn’t me! Take him away and teach him to fish or something.’

Cynan laughed. ‘I think it would be a case of him teaching me. But I will do my best.’

Janet Cavendish opened the front door to Abi next morning and smiled warmly. ‘Come in, my dear. Ben is expecting you. Through there.’ She waved towards an open door before turning away and disappearing herself in the opposite direction. Abi gave a tentative knock on the door and pushed it open. ‘Ben?’

He was sitting at an untidy desk, staring out of the window, but he climbed wearily to his feet as she came in. ‘Come and sit by the fire, Abi.’ Sweet scented logs were roaring happily in the hearth, obviously newly lit and still fed by firelighters, she noted as she took one of the squashy armchairs. They were upholstered in blue patterned chintz which seemed somewhat incongruous in the distinctly masculine surroundings of Ben’s study. Very comfortable though. She noticed the discreet box of Kleenex on the small table at her elbow. The window looked out over the front drive where she had left her battered green car parked under a field maple. The leaves were turning the most stunning shades of scarlet and ochre.

‘I’m seeing ghosts, Ben.’ She hadn’t even waited for him to sit down opposite her as she blurted out her confession.

Deciding to remain standing, he arranged himself comfortably with his back to the fire. ‘Tell me about them.’

‘Aren’t you shocked?’

He shook his head. ‘David told me all about your experiences in Cambridge and Mat and Cal said you’d already seen our own domestic crew.’ He smiled.

‘It doesn’t worry you?’

‘Not if it doesn’t worry you.’

She paused, thinking about that one. She was worried, obviously, otherwise why would she have come to see him. But about what? She had prayed for a long time the night before and this morning, in the cold light of dawn as the sun rose over the Mendips she realised what it was that had alarmed her so much. Mora had followed her inside, had appeared while she was talking about being a healer and then, and this was what had scared her, had made eye contact. This was not like a film, watching a bunch of people in another dimension somehow going about their daily lives and allowing her to watch. Or being completely unaware that she was watching. Nor was it some kind of eternally playing record, etched onto the Woodley atmosphere. This was one of their number, a druid priestess, by all accounts, trying to contact her.

Ben listened to her halting description of what had happened.

‘And Cal didn’t see her too?’

Abi shook her head.

‘Or the dogs. Dogs often see ghosts in my experience.’ He smiled.

‘The dogs were out with Mat.’

Abandoning the fire he threw himself down in the armchair facing hers, steepling his fingers over his knees thoughtfully as he stared down at the carpet between them. ‘You have prayed, of course.’

She nodded. ‘Kier rang me yesterday, Ben,’ she went on suddenly. ‘David has suspended him.’

Ben waited for her to say something else. When she lapsed into silence he glanced up. ‘I can see this has upset you,’ he said cautiously.

‘He had the phone number of the house. He knows where I am. He is still accusing me of witchcraft.’ She gave a shrill laugh. ‘I know it’s stupid, Ben, but it frightened me. He sounded so vicious.’ She bit her lip. ‘And what if he’s right? What if I am possessed in some way? What if seeing Mora, contacting her, is exactly that. Witchcraft.’

‘Abi, you have not contacted this,’ he hesitated, seeking the right word, ‘this entity, this woman, deliberately. You have not performed rites or spells or conjured her intentionally. You have prayed for help. And you have come to me for advice, so get the idea of your being a witch right out of your head. Kieran Scott is at the moment a disturbed and angry man with his own problems. He is not thinking rationally and he is looking for excuses for his own bad behaviour. Leave him to David. He is not your concern.’ He paused for a moment, deep in thought.

Abi watched him. He had a gentle, intelligent face, not unlike his two brothers, but older, more lined, his hair already white. There was wisdom and reassurance in this man. Instinctively she liked and trusted him. ‘I did contact her deliberately,’ she said softly. She glanced up at him. His eyes were fixed on the tips of his fingers, on his knees. ‘Not at first, of course, but once I discovered how easy it was, I couldn’t resist trying to do it again.’

He said nothing. She hesitated, then went on. ‘It was the crystal ball my mother gave me. Not a round shiny thing, like you see in jokes about fortune tellers. No, this is a lump of unpolished rock crystal, dredged out of a mountain or a river somewhere. It is a wild crystal, still encased in its bedrock.’ She smiled at this description. Athena would approve. ‘Somehow it acts as a key. It has switched me on to see and hear and know things I didn’t know before. I only have to think about them and I seem to be there. It is an heirloom. It seems to have been passed down my mother’s family and it has enabled the women in the family to tune in to the unseen.’ She stood up and took a short turn round the room, moving in short agitated steps towards the fireplace and then back to her chair. Throwing herself down again she shook her head. ‘I don’t believe it’s evil. It’s not witchcraft, is it! It sounds as though it is, but I am not conjuring spirits. I can’t be. Those spirits have always been there. They are your family’s ghosts, not mine!’ The words came out as a wail of despair. ‘Ben, my mother left it to me as a sacred trust. I mustn’t get rid of it; I can’t drop it into a lake. I can’t lose it or give it away except to my own daughter.’ She rubbed her hands down her face and looked up again in despair. ‘My mother told me it would destroy my Christian faith.’