Time's Legacy (29 page)

‘I’m sure the ever competent Mora will bring something with her. He can wait,’ Flavius said curtly. ‘Come.’

Romanus looked from his uncle to the ground where the shards of broken pottery lay scattered. ‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ he said stubbornly. Then he thought of something else. ‘What happens if his daughter comes back? You’re not going to hurt her, are you?’

Flavius glared at him ‘She won’t come back. She’s had a message telling her that the healers have taken her father back to their island. By the time she finds out that’s not true this will all be over.’

‘But –’ Romanus began.

‘But nothing!’ Flavius glared at him. ‘You are beginning to annoy me. Has no-one ever taught you obedience? If you want one day to serve the Emperor, that is something you are going to have to learn, and learn fast. Sentiment has no place to play in my world, Romanus. You obey or you fail.’

Romanus stared at him, terrified. ‘I do want to serve the Emperor.’

‘Then obey me.’

Romanus followed him without a further word. They skirted the hut at a safe distance and found a hiding place from which they could watch the entrance. As they settled down out of sight amongst the bracken Romanus saw his uncle loosen his sword in its sheath. He bit his lip. ‘You won’t hurt Mora, will you? You promised.’

‘Be silent!’ Flavius narrowed his eyes. He had seen a movement on the path in the distance.

Mora glanced up at the tall pine on the edge of the forest. The crow launched itself into flight as she watched and again the three caws echoed over the treetops. She frowned, stopping in her tracks. Yeshua stopped beside her. ‘What is it?’

‘Something is wrong.’

He looked up at the bird. ‘We have disturbed it.’

‘It’s more than that.’ She looked round, narrowing her eyes against the sunlight. They had travelled more quickly than they had expected, hitching a ride on an ox cart through the lower slopes of the hills, setting off on foot across the heathland on the edge of the forest as the sun began to settle into the west. Even from here as they followed the track they could see the sharp silhouette of the Tor against the pearly western sky far away through the trees. Below it the marshy levels and the water of the mere were shrouded in mist.’

‘We must go back,’ she said suddenly. ‘There is danger here.’

He shook his head. ‘There is an injured man here, Mora. We need to help him.’

‘But the bird has spoken.’

‘Even so, we need to give help where it is requested. If we have been warned of something, then we can be on our guard.’ He threw a glance over his shoulder. ‘You are right. I sense all is not well, but there is a sick man out here somewhere, that is true and he needs our aid.’ He smiled at her. ‘Come.’ He held out his hand.

She gave in. ‘It isn’t far.’ She looked up at the tree. There was no sign of the crow now. ‘Thank you, brother bird,’ she said, ‘wherever you are. We will be careful.’

It was not long afterwards that Yeshua stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. He pointed up ahead to the spot where the hovel lay in the shadow. ‘Is that the place?’ he whispered.

She nodded. ‘Where is the woodman’s daughter? Why isn’t there a fire?’

He eased his pack off his shoulders and gestured her to do the same. Then he pushed her gently out of sight into the bushes. ‘Wait here. I will go and see.’

‘No!’ She caught at him. ‘No, it is you who is in danger.’

He shook his head. ‘Why me?’

‘I don’t know. I just sense it. Something is wrong.’ She looked round wildly. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

‘Leave it to me.’ Yeshua took a firm grip on his staff and stepped back onto the track. ‘Wait here.’

Cautiously he approached the door to the hut. Seconds later the woodman’s dog began to bark.

Mora watched as he pushed open the door and stooped to go in. She saw the dog jumping around him, its tail wagging, then she saw the movement in the bushes beside the hut. A tall figure emerged into the clearing, followed by a boy. She froze. The man was carrying a drawn sword.

‘Abi, are you OK?’ Athena’s voice in her ear woke Abi with a start. ‘You called out. You sounded terrified.’ They were sitting side by side on the grassy slope below the old tower of St Michael’s on the summit of the Tor. Around them the view stretched away on every side into the hazy distance. Abi shook her head, trying to rid herself of the image of the woodman’s hut and the clearing in the forest. Yeshua had gone inside to heal the man and outside Flavius was waiting to kill him. She groaned with frustration.

‘I’m sorry.’ Athena stared at her. ‘I shouldn’t have interrupted.’

‘No!’ Abi rubbed her eyes fiercely. ‘I was watching someone. He was in danger. I wanted to stop it. To be there. To be able to do something.’ Scrambling to her feet she walked across to the tower – all that remained of St Michael’s church which once stood on top of the Tor. The tower stood four square, the entrances on each of the four sides open to wind and rain and sun.

As she ducked inside and stood looking up at the sky Athena followed her. ‘But you couldn’t?’

‘No.’

Behind them two strangers walked into the space beneath the tower, looking round. ‘I can feel the power of this place,’ Abi said suddenly. ‘Rising up through me. It’s amazing.’ She held out her arms, pivoting round in a circle. She smiled, and stood still shading her eyes with her hand as she looked towards the east. ‘Somewhere up there in the Mendips, there is a woodcutter’s hut, near some limestone cliffs. It might even have been in Cheddar Gorge. Mora went there to heal him after a tree fell on him.’

‘And did she?’ Athena held her gaze steadily.

‘I don’t know.’

‘She went there alone?’

Abi hesitated. Why did she not want to mention Mora’s apprentice? Because who he was, or might be, was still such a huge deal. Because, she realised, she wanted so much for it to be true. Because she still couldn’t believe it herself. Because she couldn’t bring herself to put her vision into words. ‘Romanus was there,’ she said at last, ‘with the wicked uncle, Flavius, lying in wait.’

‘I see. And I interrupted at the wrong moment?’

Abi nodded ruefully.

‘Do you want to try again?’

But it didn’t work. However hard Abi tried to summon her vision of the past nothing happened.

After a while she shrugged. ‘It’s gone.’ She stood staring out across the levels towards the distant Bristol Channel with beyond it a faint haze which shrouded the hills of Wales.

Retrieving the crystal from the drawer where it was stowed, Abi made her way slowly to the bench by the ruined arch. There was still no sign of the Cavendishes when she got home. The house was very quiet. The afternoon was drawing in fast and already she could see the mist beginning to form over the flat fields. She went to sit down, pulling her jacket close around her. ‘OK, Mora. What happened next?’ she whispered.

She turned the stone over and over in her hands. She could feel nothing. No warmth, no vibration, no tingling in her fingers. A shot of panic went through her. Supposing she couldn’t do it again? Supposing she never found out what happened?

‘Mora?’

She stared round at the ruined arch, the old crumbling remnants of the walls, the fragment of pillar poking up through the flowerbed. In the light of the low sun all she could see was the shroud of ivy which protected it. The air was full of the smell of damp moss. Shivering she tried to still her thoughts, concentrating on letting her mind stay blank. Allow it to come. Don’t try and force it. She cradled the stone on her lap, touching it gently with her fingertips. ‘Mora, where are you? What happened next?’

The shadow of the arch stretched across the grass at her feet, its shape elongated, irregular as it crawled across the flowerbed and onto the grass.

‘Mora? What happened? I know Flavius didn’t hurt him.’ She held her breath, listening. ‘He didn’t attack you, or Romanus?’ The words were no more than a whisper. ‘Mora?’

Supposing he had killed her? Supposing in his rage and frustration at somehow missing his target, he had struck out at the druid priestess. Perhaps that was why she felt the need to haunt the place where her story had unfolded. Clutching the stone, Abi rose to her feet. ‘Mora? Where are you? What happened?’ She stepped forward onto the flowerbed and rested her hand against the arch as though somehow it would connect her to the past. In the orchard a blackbird shrieked its warning and flew past her. She stared round, desperately trying to see into the shadows, trying to sense the past which must be there, just out of sight, but nothing came. She looked down at the stone in her hands. ‘Was it Kier? Has he frightened you away?’ She gave a bitter smile. Or was it the priestess of the goddess with her pretty skirts and lovely necklaces? She turned slowly looking towards the house. If Cal and Mat were home the lights would have come on in the kitchen by now and the dogs would be rushing across the lawn towards her. All was silence. The place was still deserted. With a sigh she rammed the stone into the pocket of her jacket and began to walk down through the orchard at the end of the garden.

Opening the door she made her way inside the little church and closed the door behind her. Silence enfolded her. That was why it kept drawing her back. Her own church. Her own sacred space. It was a novelty, this special feeling, this certainty that she had to come back here constantly to be safe, and that here everything would in the end begin to make sense. It was just possible to make out the aisle in the gloom and she made her way towards the chancel as for the first time she registered that there didn’t appear to be any electricity in the church. That explained the proliferation of candles. Besides those on the altar there were more on the window sills, a candelabra hanging from the ceiling on a heavy black chain, another standing at the back near the font. All the candles looked well used, half burned down, decorated with patterns of waxy drips. She sat down in one of the chairs at the front. The east window was in total darkness with no light from the eastern sky outside to illuminate the figure of Christ. It was as though he wasn’t there. Behind her a faint rosy light flooded low onto the floor as the setting sun found a momentary gap in the racing clouds. The church was cold. As was the stone in her pocket. She reached in to touch it briefly, her fingers stroking the rough surface, then she withdrew them. Perhaps she shouldn’t have brought it with her.

Slipping to her knees she folded her hands together in prayer. ‘What happened?’ she whispered. ‘Is it true? Were you here? Did what happened here become a part of your teaching?’

Somewhere in the body of the church a timber creaked as the temperature outside dropped. She shivered again. ‘Our Father…’ She paused. She could sense someone behind her. Not Kier. Surely he hadn’t followed her here. Swallowing hard she levered herself into a sitting position, straining every nerve to hear any movements in the nave behind her. There was nothing. Whoever it was, if there was anyone at all, must be holding their breath just as she was. After a minute she began to turn round, staring into the shadowy spaces of the church. Nothing moved. If there was someone there he must be deliberately hiding, down amongst the rows of chairs. Another small sound echoed into the silence. Something had dropped and rolled a little way before coming to a stop. She could feel her heart banging against her ribs. ‘Who is it? Who’s there?’ She could hear the fear in her own voice. ‘Come on. Show yourself.’ She paused for a second. There was no reply. ‘Kier, is that you?’

Nothing.

Standing up, she stepped into the aisle, straining her eyes as the light grew fainter. The pink light on the floor was beginning to fade now into the grey of evening. Taking a couple of steps towards the back of the church she paused, then she took two more. There was a box of matches lying in a saucer on a shelf near the door. With a shaking hand she lit a candle and as its faint light spread feebly into the darkness she stared round. There was no sign of anyone there. Picking up the candlestick she looked round again, not giving herself time to think. She was not going to be driven from this place of refuge. There was no-one there. It was a small church. There was nowhere to hide. No vestry, no pillars, no curtains. The noises had been natural ones, the creak of ancient timbers, the small sounds of mice or bats, the branch of a tree tapping a window. With a final look round she went back to the altar step to pray.

‘No sign of Abi?’ Mat walked into the kitchen and looked round. He had brought in an armful of logs and he let them fall into the hearth.

‘Her car was there.’ Cal followed him in. ‘I hope she didn’t mind us going off so early. We should really have spoken to her before we left.’

‘I should think Abi welcomed some time to herself,’ he said cheerfully. ‘It was worth it though, wasn’t it!’ He smiled at her suddenly. The trip to Taunton had been to discuss a new job for Mat; or to be strictly accurate, an old one. A follow up for one of his previous clients. Nothing large or permanent, but a huge help financially in the short term. ‘Abi will be fine. You don’t have to watch over her the whole time. Unless – you don’t think the ghastly Kieran was here again?’

Cal shook her head. ‘His car isn’t here. I expect she is out viewing the ghosts in the ruins.’ She went over to the window and looked out at the rapidly darkening garden.

‘What do you think is actually going on there?’ Mat stooped to pile the logs over some kindling and struck a match.

‘Not sure. They may be our ghosts technically, if one can have ownership of ghosts, but she is obviously connected in some way.’

‘And rapidly becoming obsessive. Ben is worried.’

‘I’m sure he is.’

‘As is the ghastly Kier. The man is genuinely concerned. I know Abi is furious and resentful, and even frightened of him but he does have a point.’

Cal made a face. ‘Don’t let Abi hear you say that.’

The phone began to ring.

‘Heaven forbid.’ He walked over to answer it, listening for a few seconds before replying. ‘She’s not here, Athena. We were just wondering where she was ourselves. We’ve only just got in. OK. I’ll get her to call you.’

He put down the phone and turned to Cal. ‘They went up the Tor this afternoon.’ He walked over to the door and opened it. ‘Go on, dogs, have a scout round. Where is Abi? Find her!’