Child of the Phoenix (108 page)

He laughed in delight. ‘And I have wine and some bridies, and gifts for my dearest love.’ He gestured towards his saddlebags.

It was his turn to make her wait while he kindled the fire and laid out two silver goblets, a skin of wine, the food and his cloak. Then he beckoned her with a grin. ‘The fire will soon warm us, but I think you should take off those wet clothes.’

She laughed. ‘I will, if you will.’ She knelt on the rugs and stared, distracted, at the fire which crackled and spat angrily over the damp twigs. She thought she had seen something moving in the flames and felt a quiver of anguish in the air, but that was foolish. The phoenix was in a locked casket at Falkland. She never wore it now.

She had no way of knowing that Rhonwen, noticing that it had been put aside, had taken the pendant from its hiding place. It was a powerful talisman, she had guessed that much; it was special, it carried the king’s love and it protected Eleyne. Without saying anything, she had sewed it into the hem of Eleyne’s cloak. With the weight of the furs, Eleyne would never notice and she would carry the talisman’s protection wherever she went.

Donald followed the direction of Eleyne’s gaze as she sat looking into the fire. ‘You don’t think someone will see the smoke?’ he asked anxiously.

‘No one. We shall be quite safe.’ The moment of unease, the feeling that something was wrong had gone as swiftly as it had come. ‘It will be dark quite soon.’

‘And no one will come after you?’ He approached her almost reverently and began to unplait her hair.

‘No one. Rhonwen will cover for me. We’re quite safe.’

She smiled as he fumbled with the laces of her gown. Gently she took his hands in hers and kissed his cold, clumsy fingers, then she undressed herself swiftly. With a shiver half of cold, half of anticipation, she knelt before him naked, and began to undo the brooch which held his mantle closed.

‘Oh, Nel.’ He pulled her against him, unable to keep still another moment. ‘Oh my love, how I’ve prayed this moment would come. It has been so long since last time. I thought I would go mad, thinking about you and waiting.’ Winding his fingers into her hair, he pulled her against him and kissed her again and again.

The air of the tower was icy on their naked flesh, draughts spinning round the dark chamber, the wind screaming in through the two narrow window slits. Donald pulled the rug over them both and smiled. ‘I’ll have to find some more wood for the fire soon.’ He leaned over and pushed her hair back from her face. ‘Are you comfortable, my love?’

Below her the floor was cold and hard beneath his cloak. She felt its dampness and the chill striking up through her bones as his weight pressed her down. The heat of his body warmed her body, but her feet were freezing. It was impossible to be comfortable, but she didn’t care. Her body was alive and tingling with anticipation. She looked up into his eyes and smiled.

The crash of the falling stone brought Donald scrambling to his feet with an exclamation of shock. He stared around, trying to see into the darkness. ‘What was that?’

‘The wind, it must have been the wind.’ Eleyne sat up. She pulled the discarded rug around her shoulders, shivering violently. She realised that the fire had died and no longer gave any light. ‘Come back.’ She held out her hand, but he was standing with his back to her, peering into the darkness.

‘There’s someone here,’ he whispered.

Eleyne clenched her fists. ‘Don’t be silly, there can’t be. No one comes here.’

‘I’ll check all the same.’ His voice was grim. He pulled on his gown, and reached for the dirk which hung from his girdle. He unsheathed it silently; the blade gleamed in the light of a stray pale flame which licked across the cooling embers and was gone almost as soon as it had flared.

Outside, the wind moaned through the trees and the sound of the rain on the autumn leaves grew louder. He smiled reassuringly at her, then he put his finger to his lips. They were both straining their ears trying to hear the inner silence of the old tower beyond the storm.

The touch of the hand on her shoulder was so sudden that she screamed. Donald swung round, the dirk outstretched before him. ‘What is it?’

‘There
is
someone here, he touched me.’ Eleyne clutched the rug, staggered to her feet and backed towards the wall. Her teeth were chattering with cold and fear. ‘Don’t leave me, don’t go down. There’s someone here, in this room.’

‘There can’t be.’ Donald’s voice was steadying, reassuringly firm. ‘Wait, let me throw something on the fire.’ He stooped, scrabbling among the rubbish on the floor for a handful of jackdaw sticks and old bracken. He tossed it on the embers, his dirk still in his hand, and turned back towards the room. As the kindling flared the empty echoing chamber was full of shadows. His own fell across the floor and up the stone wall. As he moved, it foreshortened grotesquely and thickened but, in the leaping reflections of the flames, they could see the room was empty.

‘He’s gone downstairs,’ Donald breathed. ‘Stay here.’

‘Don’t go –’ Her anguished plea was barely audible. Her terror was increasing. ‘Donald, can’t you feel it? There’s something here, in this room.’

The feeling of anger was palpable: a cold, calculated fury which was building with the storm outside. As the firelight settled into a steady glow, she saw that Donald too could feel it now. The dirk was still held out before him as he moved steadily backwards towards her.

‘What is it?’ he breathed. ‘What’s happening?’ The dust was whirling round his feet and a shower of mortar fell from the vaulted roof above their heads.

‘Alexander,’ she breathed, staring around wildly. ‘Alexander, no, please!’

‘Who is it? Where is he?’ Donald’s jaw was set, his face grim. ‘Sweet Jesus, Nel, I can’t see him, where is he?’ He swore as another stone fell from the ceiling. ‘This place is falling apart. Come on, we must get out of here – ’

‘No!’ Eleyne ran forward and clutched at his sleeve. ‘No, that’s what he wants. He wants us out in the storm, so he can separate us. Stay here. Leave us alone, please,’ she cried to the shadows. ‘I don’t want you, don’t you understand? I don’t want you any more!’ Her voice rose hysterically as she addressed the darkness.

‘Nel! What is it? Who is it?’ The hairs on Donald’s neck were rising like the hackles on a dog. ‘Sweet Jesus, Nel, what is it?’

‘Give me your dagger!’ Eleyne held out her hand. ‘Quickly, give it to me!’

Without thinking, he reversed the dirk and handed it to her, hilt first. Behind him the fire was dying again. Eleyne raised the dirk before her, hilt upwards, in the age-old sign of protection and blessing.

‘In the name of the holy cross I command you to leave us.’ She raised her voice in a wild cry against the scream of the wind. ‘Leave us now, I don’t want you. I love Donald of Mar. You’re dead, don’t you understand? You’re dead, and I’m alive! I need a living man. Don’t torment yourself. Please go. Now!’ Her eyes filled with tears and she was shaking so much she couldn’t stand. She collapsed on her knees, the dirk still clutched in her fingers. Donald’s face was white. He crossed himself, then he squatted down beside her and put his arms around her.

‘Has he gone?’ The room was still full of the sound of the wind and rain.

She raised her head, and after a moment she nodded. Wordlessly she clutched at Donald’s arm, trembling violently. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, ‘I’m so sorry.’

He squeezed her shoulder. ‘It’s all right, it’s all over.’ He kissed her gently on the cheek, then he released her. ‘I’ll get us some wine.’ His mouth was dry and his voice husky, and when he unstoppered the wineskin and tried to pour the wine he found his hands were shaking uncontrollably. He managed it at last and turned back to her. She had pulled on her gown and her cloak and was sitting silently, her arms clasped tightly around her knees.

He put the silver goblet into her hand and closed her fingers around the stem. ‘Drink that.’

Obediently she sipped, feeling the rough red wine slipping down her throat. She sipped again, watching as Donald threw more rubbish on the fire, followed by the end of an old oak beam which had been lying in the corner of the chamber. The fire flared and settled into a steady glow.

‘Can you tell me what that was all about?’ His voice was carefully neutral.

‘Alexander.’ She licked her lips and took a deep nervous breath. ‘He was someone who loved me very much.’ She took another sip of wine.

Donald said nothing; his wine remained untouched in the goblet in his hand.

She saw the expression on his face with a sinking heart. ‘He died,’ she went on.

There was a long silence, then Donald raised his goblet to his lips and tipped the wine down his throat. ‘Do I take it we are talking about the late king?’ His voice was curiously flat.

She nodded.

‘He must indeed have loved you.’

She smiled wistfully then she nodded again.

‘And did you love him?’ Tossing the goblet aside, he folded his arms. It was a curiously defensive gesture and her heart went out to him.

‘Yes.’ There was no way she could lie about her feelings for Alexander, however much it hurt Donald. ‘But that was a long time ago. It’s you I love now.’ She looked up at him pleadingly. ‘Oh, Donald, help me.’

He shook his head, bewildered. ‘I thought Lord Fife was my rival. I can fight a flesh and blood man, but a ghost?’ He crossed himself again.

‘You can fight a ghost too,’ she said softly, ‘if your love is strong enough.’

‘Can I?’ He faced her. ‘I can’t bolt the doors against a ghost! I can’t carry you off and hide you from a ghost! We came here to escape people; you promised no one could find us here, but he did! Your ghost found us and stood over us while we made love, as no doubt he has done before, though I’ve been too preoccupied to notice! How can I fight that?’ His voice rose in anguish.

Eleyne bit her lip. ‘I don’t know, but you have to fight him. You have to.’

‘Does he come like that when you are with Lord Fife?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I don’t love Malcolm. He’s not jealous of Malcolm.’ She scrambled to her feet. ‘Don’t you see? It’s because I love you so much that he has come to haunt us. He’s jealous.’ The tears poured down her cheeks. ‘Donald, I don’t know how to fight him, I don’t know how to make him go away. I loved him. I went on loving him until I met you, but now – ’

‘Now?’

‘Now I want a real man; I want a flesh and blood lover. I want someone who can hold me in his arms and crush the breath out of me!’

He smiled and put out his hands to draw her to him. Her body was as cold as ice. ‘Then we must fight him together. Tell him to go away and find himself a lady phantom to keep him warm.’ When he smiled his eyes crinkled at the edges.

She stood on tiptoe and kissed his mouth.

‘Did you bring me a poem?’ she asked. She was still trembling.

He nodded. Releasing her, he walked over to his mantle and found the scrip which he had worn at his girdle. ‘And something else, a present for you.’ He produced the small box which contained the ring. Opening it, he took it out and brought it to her.

‘Close your eyes and give me your hand.’ The ring fitted the third finger on her right hand. She stared at it in delight, holding her hand to the fire, trying to make out the inscription.

‘What does it say?’

‘Love for eternity.’ Their eyes met and he saw her sadness. ‘Perhaps not entirely a good choice, under the circumstances,’ he said quietly.

She shook her head. ‘The perfect choice,’ she said.

II

The first thing Eleyne did when she returned to Falkland was go to the casket where she had hidden the phoenix. She threw back the lid and rummaged amongst her jewels. The pendant wasn’t there.

Rhonwen had come into the room on silent feet, and she stood watching as Eleyne tipped the contents of the casket on to her bed. ‘What are you looking for,
cariad
?’ Eleyne had not even taken off her cloak.

‘The phoenix, where is the phoenix?’ Eleyne spread the jewels with a sweep of her hand. ‘It isn’t here.’

How had Alexander followed her to her meeting place with Donald? How had he been so strong?

‘Why do you want it so urgently you cannot even take off your wet cloak first?’ Rhonwen looked at the muddy hem of the cloak; there was no sign that it had been torn open.

‘I need it.’ Eleyne’s hands were shaking.

‘Then I’ll find it for you.’ Rhonwen’s voice was soothing. ‘Let me take the cloak and order some mulled wine while you wash your hands. See, the girl has brought hot water for you.’ Unfastening the brooch on Eleyne’s shoulder, she retrieved the cloak. It took only moments in the ladies’ solar to unpick the stitching with her small shears. When she took the pendant back to Eleyne, it was wrapped in a wisp of blue silk. ‘Here it is,
cariad
, you had put it in the coffer next door. I thought I had seen it there.’

Eleyne took the pendant with shaking hands. ‘Please leave me, Rhonwen, I wish to be alone.’

The phoenix lay in her hand, glowing gently in the firelight. It brought him close; she could feel him now. No longer angry, he was a gentle, loving shade hovering at her shoulder. But he was not real.