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Authors: Barbara Erskine

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BOOK: Daughters of Fire
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Shaking hands with James Oakley, Meryn stood for a second on the threshold of the cottage, then with a slight nod of satisfaction followed him inside. It felt good. Safe. Hugh was waiting in the snug and greeted Meryn with a handshake and a slap on the back. ‘Am I glad to see you! I don’t know why I ran. I’m sorry.’

Meryn scrutinised him briefly. ‘I doubt if you had control of your actions.’ The three men seated themselves in the three armchairs around the fire, then Meryn turned to James. ‘There is a matter of protocol here, I feel. A clergyman could deal with these matters, surely.’

‘I’m not sure I could,’ James put in hastily. ‘This would seem to be way beyond my competence. That’s why I rang you. Quite apart from the fact that, should it be necessary, an old codger like me can’t get upto the fort any more owing to my arthritis.’ He liked the look of this man; he exuded warmth and humanity and a reassuring sense of calm confidence. ‘I’ll cheer from the sidelines, whatever needs to be done.’

Meryn smiled, his facing creasing into deep lines as he did so. ‘I am sure I shall be very glad of your support. Venutios is a powerful adversary; and if he combines his efforts with Medb of the White Hands, it will probably take both of us to defeat them. This is a battle for people’s souls. Something of which you have experience, I suspect.’

Hugh swallowed. He stared from one man to the other, trying to feel reassured and aware only of a deepening sense of panic. ‘Wouldn’t it be better if I just went away?’

Meryn shook his head. ‘They would follow you, my friend. This has to be sorted out, once and for all.’

‘And the brooch?’

‘Is being used as a focus and a power source to fuel an ancient
quarrel. It needs to be cleansed of the curses and charms and bitterness which have impregnated it. Where is it now?’

‘Viv hid it somewhere up there.’ Hugh nodded towards the window and all three men turned to stare up at the hill. From this far away they could see no sign of life upon the distant plateau which was once more bathed in sunshine, wisps of mist still clinging around some of the steeper ramparts. ‘I don’t dare go near her, Meryn,’ Hugh said suddenly. ‘I’m afraid of what he’ll make me do.’

Meryn studied him. ‘In the story, in your head, they are at war?’

Hugh nodded. ‘And once the war started, there was - is - no going back.’ He frowned.

Meryn stood up. ‘I think we should go and see Cartimandua.’

Hugh blanched. ‘We can’t.’

‘I shall be with you. Neither you nor Venutios are going to do anything with me there. And James, if he would accompany us.’

‘No.’ Hugh stood up agitatedly. ‘No, I really don’t want to. You two go, but not me. I’ve been thinking about this. I did go back to see her and thank God she wasn’t there because Venutios is too strong for me!’ Both men were watching him in silence. He paused, glancing from one to the other. ‘You can see him, can’t you! Shit!’ He slammed his fist down on the table next to him. ‘I will not risk hurting Viv! You have no idea how strong he is!’

Meryn and James stared after him as he strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. In the silence that followed they heard his footsteps retreating up the stairs.

Meryn stood up. ‘He is being forced to believe in the possession, but he still can’t bring himself to believe there is a remedy.’ He sighed. ‘Poor Hugh.’

‘What do we do?’ James took off his spectacles and cleaned them anxiously.

‘How far away is our Cartimandua?’

‘Not far. A few miles.’

‘Then maybe we should go there and assess the situation.’ Meryn glanced up at the ceiling. ‘My only hope is that Hugh stays put. We don’t want him rampaging round the countryside without us.’

 
I
 

 

The farmhouse was silent as Viv walked down the stairs. She had no intention of looking for Pat or Peggy. They could draw their own conclusions about her departure. Pulling open the front door silently she carried her bag out to the car. There was one more thing to do before she could leave and that was to go and collect the brooch. Pushing the boot shut as silently as she could, she glanced over her shoulder. There was still no sign of anyone. Steve’s car had gone.

Slipping out of the gate she carefully latched it behind her, then she hurried up the track.

For a long time she stood on the edge of the vast pavement of limestone looking out across the strange, lunar landscape, trying to orientate herself. There were several stunted thorns and junipers growing out of the stone, any one of which could have been the one she had thought so memorable. She turned round and round, feeling herself growing increasingly panicky, then walked towards one small tree and kneeling beside it, stared round, trying to locate a fissure where she might have pushed the box amongst the clusters of stonecrop. There was nothing there.

Scrambling to her feet, she moved a few yards on and tried again. The sun was beating down on her back and she could smell the honey scent of meadowsweet. Somewhere high up in the distance she heard the mew of a buzzard and staring up, she saw the tiny black speck circling against the intense blue of the sky.

‘I thought I’d find you here.’ Hugh’s voice took her completely by surprise. She swung round in fright. ‘So, this is where you hid the brooch.’

She stared at him, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions as fear and longing swept over her. ‘Hugh?’

‘This time I did follow you. I couldn’t wait around while everyone else was out trying to sort out the vagaries of history! I saw you from right up there.’ He pointed behind him. ‘I could see you searching.’

‘I can’t find it.’ She shook her head.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, then abruptly he threw back his head and laughed. ‘That, of all things, would be the final irony.’

‘And no one would believe me.’

‘No. They wouldn’t.’

‘Venutios?’

He grinned. ‘I’m fighting him, Viv. Believe me, I’m fighting him. And I have allies. Meryn - I told you about him? My Druid friend - and James Oakley the local parson.’

Just for a second she felt her face twitch with amusement. ‘A Druid and a parson?’

‘I know. My street cred is all shot to pieces But this is their sort of thing. They’ve gone to the farm to look for you. I didn’t want to go with them. I didn’t dare. I was going to stay indoors, but I couldn’t. I had to know what was happening!’ His smile vanished suddenly. Something like pain flashed across his features. ‘Did you hear that? Oh God! I should have turned back when I saw you. I should have gone back to the car and locked myself in!’

‘What is it?’

‘Hell and damnation! I can’t cope with this! Not on my own. He wants the brooch back.’

‘I can’t find it, I told you! I can’t give it to you.’ His face had changed. She could see it - the mask overlaying his features. Terrified, she stepped back. ‘Hugh?’

‘Get away from me, Viv. Run!’ Hugh was suddenly sweating. ‘I can’t fight him! I don’t want to hurt you. I couldn’t bear that! I love you, Viv, but he wants to kill Cartimandua!’ His voice broke. ‘Get away from me now!’

She stared at him in complete horror. ‘Hugh?’

‘Now!’ He was gasping, his hands to his head. ‘Can’t you hear it? The carnyx! The beat of the drum! He’s coming!’

And finally she registered what he was saying. She spun round in panic. Dodging past him she leaped across a crack in the rocks and headed down the hillside, jumping over stones onto the grass,
dodging the larger outcrops, slipping and sliding on the loose scree.

Wiping the sweat away from his face with his forearm, Hugh shook his head desperately. He could sense Venutios’s anger as the messengers cowered before him; feel every second of his helpless fury as they had told him how Cartimandua, his wife, had married Vellocatus! She had turned her back on him. She had married his shield bearer and his servant.

With a bellow of rage he had turned and hit the wall with his fists.

In the name of the great gods, Camulos and Lugh, he would be avenged! He would kill every man who fought for her and he would tear Vellocatus limb from limb if it was the last thing he did in this world. And then he would kill her.

‘Viv!’ Hugh’s voice was lost in the roar of the wind behind her as she fled from him down the hill. ‘Viv, I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to be like this -’

She didn’t hear him.

II
 

 

Pat groped for her watch and tried to focus. It was five. It must still be afternoon. She hadn’t been asleeplong. She lay staring at the ceiling. Her head was banging like a hammer and she felt violently sick. Medb had been there. She knew that much. And Peggy.

Aching in every limb, she climbed off the bed. She was beginning to remember in small intense flashes what had happened. They had been in the kitchen. Her head had been splitting; Peggy had given her something to drink from a bottle on the dresser, then helped her upstairs. What had happened next? She had felt Medb’s hands on her face, the ice-cold fingers, then nothing. Sleep.

Quietly she opened her bedroom door and looked out into the passage. The house was silent. On tiptoe, her head still spinning, she crept along the corridor and at the top of the stairs she stopped and listened. There was a sound of rattling pans from the kitchen and water running from the tap. Peggy must be washing up. The normality of the sound reassured her.

Silently she tiptoed down and listened at the kitchen door. Peggy must have heard her for it opened suddenly. ‘Are you feeling better, love?’

Pat nodded numbly.

‘Good. Come with me and we’ll fetch some more medicine for that headache.’

How did Peggy know she had a headache?

Pat could hardly walk. She felt Peggy take her arm and guide her down the passage towards the herb room where she reached for the light switch and they went inside, closing the door behind them. Peggy pushed her towards the bed. ‘Sit there. I’ll make up some more of that tisane. It will soothe you.’ Pat put her hand to her forehead. Her head was splitting. Steve had come back. She could picture his face. His eyes had been wild. Someone had died. She frowned, watching as Peggy went over to the shelves where her store of herbs was kept in bottles and boxes and brown paper bags, each meticulously labelled. Carefully she mixed several tinctures. Before closing the little bottle she poured some into a glass.

‘Steve,’ Pat murmured. ‘Steve was upset.’

‘You forget Steve.’ Peggy turned, the glass in her hand. She handed it to Pat. ‘Drink that. It will make you feel better.’

Pat turned her head away, but Peggy was beside her, one hand behind her head, the other holding the glass to her lips. She had no strength to object. Swallowing, she groaned and retched. Peggy smiled. ‘I know. It tastes disgusting, but in a few minutes you will feel wonderful. Look, I’ll add some mead. That will sweeten it.’ She screwed the lid on the bottle and slipped it into her pocket. ‘We’ll take this with us in case we want it again. Now, come with me and we’ll go and look for Viv.’

III
 

 

The track was steep, the air close. After only twenty minutes Hugh’s head began to pound. Groping in his days ack for his water bottle, he sat down on an outcrop of rock staring back the way he had come. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the cry of a buzzard
as it circled below him. The occasional shout in the distance reminded him the re-enactors were up there somewhere. He had seen them with their tents and their costumes and their weapons. He thought he heard the clash of swords, then nothing. A breeze rustled through the grass and he heard the rattle of shifting shale as some loose scree settled nearby. He glanced over his shoulder, up towards the higher slopes. This would be a good place to rest for a while.

He shivered as a shadow fell across him. For a second he didn’t dare open his eyes. There had been no sound. No sense that anyone was near, but suddenly he could feel him. Almost paralysed with terror, he forced his eyes open. There was no one in sight.

‘So, my friend,’ he said huskily. ‘Are we going to talk about this, man to man, or am I going to tell you to go away, like Meryn said.’

He looked round. Nothing. The only sound was the wind in the short, sparse grasses around his feet. In the distance evening was coming.

‘So, Venutios. You and I together on the hill where you defeated Cartimandua. How does it feel to be the winner?’

He shivered violently. The cold seemed to tiptoe over the hillside. Mist was drifting up across the limestone pavements below. Somehow the afternoon had slipped away without him noticing.

Venutios smiled. He had two priorities left. To find Medb.

And to kill the Roman who had rescued Cartimandua from his clutches.

IV
 

 

As Viv ran into the yard the front door opened and she found herself looking at Peggy, who was just coming out.

Peggy smiled. ‘What’s the hurry?’ There was a game bag slung across her shoulders.

‘Venutios! He wants the brooch!’ Viv was gasping for breath. Behind her the track was empty. There was no sign of Hugh. Hugh, who had admitted he loved her before his whole being had been subsumed beneath that mask of hate.

Peggy smiled. ‘We all want the brooch, Viv. Did you find it? No? Then we need to go back and look for it again.’

‘Peggy! I told you! Hugh is up there. With Venutios. Now!’ Viv was desperate. She doubled up, trying to regain her breath. ‘He’s going to kill me!’

Peggy smiled again before turning to call over her shoulder. ‘Medb! Come out here. Viv is going to take us to her hiding place.’

Viv straightened abruptly. ‘Medb?’ Taking a deep breath to try and steady herself, Viv took in Peggy’s face for the first time. It was shiny with sweat. Her eyes were hard and calculating, her expression set with a cold determination which made Viv’s skin crawl. She glanced round at her car. It was only a few yards away.

BOOK: Daughters of Fire
8.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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