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Authors: Barbara Erskine

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BOOK: Daughters of Fire
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Her estimation of Brochan’s reaction proved right. When the vast army drew up to camp on the fells outside the walls he came at once and knelt before her, offering his homage and support. He brought news of her missing brother. Fintan was still sick from his wounds and being cared for in a healing temple far to the south but sent her his blessing; Bran was far more sorely wounded. He had not yet awoken though he still breathed.

‘And Venutios?’ Carta had scanned the crowds around Brochan and seen no sign of him. ‘Is he not with you?’

Brochan frowned. ‘I had thought Venutios would be here already, my queen. He left a fortnight before we turned back north, anxious to be at your side.’ He looked away suddenly and she read his embarrassment correctly.

‘He set off to stand in opposition to my claim?’

Brochan shrugged. ‘Who knows what he decided. Perhaps he changed his mind. Perhaps he rode back to Caer Lugus.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘I have many of his men in my army, lady. He left them under my command.’

Carta smiled at him. ‘Then let it be your command that all your men, and his, join our celebrations.’

That night she lay awake for a long time in her lonely bed going over the events of the day in her mind. Amongst all the glory and excitement and beauty of the ceremonies and celebrations, one thing stood out as a dark shadow cast over the sun. The absence of Venutios. His presence there would have conveyed his approbation; his approval; his blessing. The fact that he was not there denied her all three. She thought back over the ceremony and again heard the cry of the eagle above her as the sun rose. Was Artgenos wrong? Had Venutios returned home to the centre of the land of the Carvetii to invoke the great god, Lugh, the protector of his tribe, the god of victory and light against her?

Unable to sleep she rose and, wrapping her cloak around her shoulders, walked out into the central chamber of the house. It was deserted. Her guards remained outside, her ladies were asleep at last in their own quarters. Walking over to the fire she stirred the peats, kindling a flame from the smoky embers and sat down in the flickering light, reaching into her bag for the bundle of yew slips she used for prophesy. Praying over them, she let them fall upon the floor and leant forward to read their message.

There was a blackness which she could not read in the pattern of the staves though they showed clearly that Venutios was not at Caer Lugus. Puzzled, she shuffled them and tossed them down again. He had gone to Dinas Dwr. Why? And who was the woman there with him? A shiver of apprehension settled across her shoulders as a figure appeared from the shadows behind her. ‘My queen?’ It was Mairghread. ‘You need your sleep. There is so much to do tomorrow.’ The woman stood looking down at the pattern of the sticks on the floor at Carta’s feet. ‘Do you see blessings in the future?’

Carta shuffled them together and put them back in their linen bag. ‘I see many things, Mairghread.’ She rose to her feet with a smile. ‘Will you bank the fire again, my dear, while I go back to my bed. I need to wake at dawn.’

She was woken by the clear fluting of the blackbird and she lay still for a moment listening to its message. The gates to the other worlds were open. In the cold dawn light the township slept in silence as she made her way to the shrine among the rocks and knelt before the stone head of the goddess. She made her offerings, then she bent to look into the dark depths of the ice-cold water. There the picture was clear; Venutios lay on a bed of furs. In the crook of his arm she could see the woman’s blonde hair spread across the pillows. Even though those chilling eyes were closed she recognised the face. The woman in his arms was Medb of the White Hands.

 
I
 

 

It was half an hour before Pete and Cathy arrived, one of the longest half-hours of Pat’s life. Every few minutes she stood up and called and rattled the door but there was no reply, no sign that Viv was in there at all. By the time they had joined her on the landing, Pat was trembling with shock and fear. ‘I didn’t know what to do. Perhaps I should have called the police.’

‘Have you any keys?’ Pete banged on the door.

Pat shook her head. ‘It’s Cartimandua,’ she said softly.

‘Oh come on, Pat!’ Cathy eyed her sternly.

Pete snorted. ‘Let’s get a grip on reality here.’

‘No, Pete. She’s angry. She wants the brooch. Viv thought she’d taken it, but -’ Pat shrugged.

Cathy and Pete stared at her in silence for several seconds, then they glanced at each other.

‘Whatever is happening, we have to get in here,’ Cathy said at last.

‘Can’t you break the door down?’ Pat looked from one to the other desperately.

Pete gave a wry grin. ‘That’s an old oak door. None of your modern plywood stuff.’ He ran his fingers down the wood. ‘Is there another way in? Windows, for instance. If there’s even a remote chance there are burglars in there, how would they get in?’

Pat shook her head. ‘There are lots of little windows, facing in all directions, some onto the roofs, but they are all too high.’

‘Then it has to be the police.’ Pete looked from one to the other. I don’t see what else we can do.’ He turned one last time towards
the door and putting his shoulder to it, threw his full weight against it. It flew open, precipitating him into the hall.

‘Viv!’ Cathy pushed past him as he tried to regain his balance. ‘Viv, are you all right?’

There was no reply.

‘Wait! Let me go first.’ Pete caught her arm.

Viv was sitting in the rocking chair, her eyes on the opposite wall, a half-smile on her lips. She was alone, but the mirror that had hung above her desk was lying on the floor, smashed into a thousand pieces.

‘Viv? Are you OK?’ Cathy went to her and crouched in front of her. ‘Didn’t you hear us knocking?’

Viv did not react. She was rocking gently back and forth.

‘Viv, can you hear me?’ Cathy spoke a little more loudly. Behind her Pete had quickly looked round the flat. Satisfied there were no intruders, he was examining the door.

‘Viv!’ Cathy’s voice was louder now, more commanding. ‘Wake up! Do you hear me. Now!’ She snapped her fingers in front of Viv’s nose. For a moment nothing happened, then with a start Viv sat up, her eyes focussing with difficulty on Cathy’s face.

‘Cathy? What are you doing here?’ She looked confused.

‘Pat called us, when she couldn’t get in.’

‘What’s happened to the mirror?’ Viv cried out suddenly. ‘It’s broken!’ She was staring down at it in horror.

Pete stooped over the broken glass. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll clear it up.’

‘It was Carta, wasn’t it.’ Viv clutched at the arms of the chair. ‘She was angry we went out.’

‘I’m sure there’s a rational reason, Viv,’ Pete said calmly. ‘The wire must have broken.’

‘The mirror was bolted to the wall, Pete.’ Viv tried to smile. ‘No, It was Carta. I know it was.’

‘Come on, Viv.’ Cathy pulled the desk chair over towards her, hearing it crunch over the broken glass and sat down. ‘What really happened?’

‘Happened?’ Viv still appeared to be confused.

‘The door was locked. None of us could get in.’

‘Couldn’t you?’ Viv’s confusion was genuine. ‘Did I fall asleep?’

‘You were in some kind of trance state.’

Viv shook her head. ‘No. I’d remember if I was. I always remember, so I can write everything down.’

‘And you don’t remember anything?’

‘No.’

‘How you slammed the door in Pat’s face?’

‘I didn’t. I wouldn’t.’

‘Well, someone did.’

‘It was the draught.’

‘I doubt it. If it was the draught why didn’t you open it for her?’

There was a moment’s silence. Viv shook her head slowly. ‘She was here, wasn’t she. Like before. Cartimandua.’

‘No, Viv. It was you.’ Cathy was looking very stern. ‘I think you resent Pat being here because she comes between you and this obsession of yours. I think you deliberately locked her out.’

‘No.’

‘Yes. You may not realise it. You may genuinely not remember doing it, but I think that’s what happened. Then when you realised we were talking about calling the police you came and unlocked it.’

‘Cathy, that is insane. I did no such thing.’

‘Are you sure?’ Cathy held her gaze.

‘Of course I’m sure.’ Viv looked down at her hands. ‘I’d remember if I’d done something like that.’

‘Would you?’ Cathy smiled reassuringly. ‘Not necessarily. And no, I’m not saying you’re insane. Far from it. You’re stressed and very tired. Perhaps we should leave you to rest.’

‘But I don’t want you to go!’ Viv cried. ‘Please. I need you here. I’m scared on my own.’ She paused, looking round the room at the three of them in real anguish. ‘I’m so scared.’

There was a long silence. No one moved. Viv was shredding a tissue between nervously twitching fingers.

Pete retreated to the sofa. ‘Would you like to come and stay with us, Viv?’ He said gently. ‘There’s plenty of room. You’re right, you shouldn’t be here on your own.’

Viv shook her head. She glanced up. ‘There is nothing wrong with this flat. Christ! There’s nothing wrong with me!’

‘No one said there was,’ Cathy put in. ‘You just need some sleep, love, that’s all.’

Viv shook her head. ‘I’ve slept. I’m not tired.’

‘I think Viv is right. It was Carta,’ Pat said at last. She sat down next to Pete. ‘There was half an hour at least while I was out on the stairs. She was here with you, wasn’t she. You were so
engrossed you didn’t hear me knocking. I don’t think you locked me out. I think she did. And I think she opened the door only when you had stopped listening to her because you were too tired to listen any more. Are you sure you haven’t written something down?’

Viv shook her head. She glanced round helplessly. ‘I haven’t got a notebook here -’ They were all still neatly stacked on her desk next to the computer which was turned off.

‘But you want to write it down before you forget.’

‘I have forgotten.’ Viv looked down dully at her hands, folded between her knees. She was near tears.

‘So you are saying that Carta - whoever, whatever she is - is capable of locking and opening doors?’ Pete asked wryly.

All three women looked at him. Pat gave an involuntary shiver. ‘She is also capable of doing that.’ She pointed down at the broken glass. ‘Scary thought.’ She frowned and leaned forward suddenly. There, amongst the glass lay the brooch. She picked it up and held it out to Viv on the palm of her hand. ‘She brought it back. Why? What is she trying to tell us?’

Viv stared at it in silence. The atmosphere of the room had changed. It was tense, dark, as though a storm cloud had drifted between them as they sat looking at the jewel on Viv’s palm. For a moment the four of them were transfixed.

‘She’s getting more real and stronger every time,’ Viv said quietly. Her mouth had gone dry. ‘And the awful thing is, I don’t want it to stop. Whatever she’s doing, I don’t want the story to stop.’

‘It has to,’ Cathy put in sternly. ‘This has gone far enough.’

Viv shook her head wearily. ‘On the contrary. It hasn’t gone nearly far enough.’

‘Cathy’s right, Viv. This is getting dangerous,’ Pat put in. ‘You must see it is. Look what she can do!’

‘If it is her,’ Pete said quizzically. ‘We haven’t established that, have we? Not beyond all doubt.’

‘I don’t think we need to. We will just assume that whatever is happening it is not good for Viv’s wellbeing,’ Cathy said firmly. She paused abruptly. ‘You can’t stay here on your own. You must come back with us.’

Viv shook her head. ‘Hasn’t it dawned on you, Cathy? It doesn’t matter where I am. If I come to your flat she’ll come with me. Time and place mean nothing to her. She’s dead, for God’s sake!’

II
 

 

Medb had seen Venutios in the clouds and in the waters of the river and in the flight of the birds: a man who would be her ally. A man who hated Cartimandua as much as she did. It was easy finding him. She followed the direction of the wind and the stories of the foresters she met on her journey towards Brigantia. At first she thought they were directing her to Dun Righ where Cartimandua had been chosen as high queen, but the gods were more subtle than that. The hero of her dreams was wounded. He was weak and he travelled slowly. At first he had followed the tracks north-west, towards the crowning, then he had veered away from the direct route and followed the secret paths towards the home of the north wind. When he reached Dinas Dwr he had resumed his own identity at last and as king of the Carvetii he had been fêted and made welcome by those who remained in the township, and there he stayed for a few days while he regained his strength. Many of the warriors and their wives had gone to Dun Righ for the great celebrations. Those who remained were pleased to entertain him.

Medb arrived on foot, late at night as the gates were about to close. A tall, beautiful woman, in the white robe and veil of a priestess of the woods, she was shown at her request into the guest house where Venutios was awaiting his supper. Looking up he took in the beautiful face, the fair silken hair, the clear eyes and he rose to his feet to greet her.

Within minutes he was ensnared. They ate together and later they lay together on the heaps of furs which had been lavished on the bed in the guest chamber. Her body was as beautiful as her face, this lithe, exquisite woman who had wandered in from the darkness of the forest. Venutios did not enquire where she came from. Enough that she was a priestess; a Druidess who served the goddess of the forest.

‘And why, great king, did you not challenge Cartimandua for the high kingship of Brigantia?’ she whispered as she lay in his arms. ‘Surely you are the one they would have chosen?’

He lay back, staring up at the ceiling. ‘So I thought. But the gods
must have decided otherwise. Why else would they have waylaid me on my way to Dun Righ? Why else would they have scarred me?’ The wound the robbers had inflicted across his chest had still not knitted properly. That was the reason he had not gone straight to the crowning. No one would elect a wounded man who could barely sit in the saddle.

She smiled, running her fingers across the raw, jagged skin. ‘I think we can do something about that, my lord,’ she said softly. ‘Cartimandua will go nowhere for a while. She will wait for you.’ She bent and ran her tongue lightly across the wound, leaving him shuddering with desire. ‘Then you will go and challenge her.’ She looked up and narrowed her eyes. ‘I have seen the future, King Venutios. I have seen you as high king of all Brigantia. It will be you and no one else who brings Cartimandua to her knees.’

III
 

 

‘I convinced them to go on without me,’ Pat said, shutting the door. ‘I’ve been thinking about what’s happened. They don’t understand.’

Viv raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought Cathy of all people would believe me.’ The others had stayed to help clear up the glass and finally left about an hour before.

BOOK: Daughters of Fire
13.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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