Time's Legacy (37 page)

‘But you failed to find it.’

Kier nodded. ‘Abi was very angry. I thought she would have complained by now. She was angry and rebellious. She seems to have forgotten all her vows as a priest of the church.’

‘She has offered her resignation as a priest of the church, Kier.’ The bishop leaned back in his chair and recapped his pen slowly.

Kier’s eyes were riveted to the action. ‘She mustn’t be allowed to resign. She is far too good a priest.’

‘I seem to remember that you told me she was quite the opposite. That she was practising witchcraft in your church.’

‘She was being influenced in a way she could not control, but that was because of her inexperience. I want you to take her back. Help her.’

‘She has all the help she needs down at Woodley, Kieran. She has a spiritual supervisor there, and she was supposed to have peace and quiet to allow her to spend some time in contemplation.’

‘But she isn’t.’ Kier was becoming agitated. ‘Don’t you see? She is using this stone as some kind of key to access a supernatural world. There are ghosts everywhere down there.’

‘Ghosts which you too have seen?’ David looked up and fixed Kier’s face with an intense glare.

Kier shifted uncomfortably. Then he nodded. ‘I know she’s telling the truth. I watched her. She didn’t know I was there. I saw figures. I saw people around her. Sort of swirling, misty lights and shapes and shadows.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

‘What did you do at the time?’

Kier shook his head. ‘Nothing. I was so afraid. I couldn’t move or speak or even call out to her. I watched it all happen and then I fled.’

Flavius was back at the house, and had shouldered the entire blame for taking Romanus with him without informing his mother, and for their late return. He had explained away his injured hand by saying he had fallen from his horse and landed on it. Sorcha had cleaned the wound and bound it up for him with a warm poultice. Romanus, shaken and silent, watched his uncle grit his teeth against the pain, and felt an overwhelming wave of relief that his mother’s wrath at his all-day disappearance without a word had been directed at someone else. When their supper of mutton stew and bread and beans was over, Lydia and Sorcha reached for their sewing, whilst Rhiannon brought her small harp to the fire and gently began to strum a slow melodious tune. Lydia glanced at Flavius. He was sitting in silence, the shadow of the flames playing across his face as he nursed his bandaged hand. She caught the thoughtful look her son threw at him from time to time and wondered what had really happened up there in the hills. With a sigh she laid aside her sewing. She found it harder to see these days in the dim light of the flames. ‘Petra was worse today, Rom,’ she said quietly. ‘I think I am going to have to ask Mora to come back with the stronger medicine she promised.’

Romanus froze. He looked up at his mother with an expression of utter horror.

‘It’s all right. She stayed in bed today, and she has eaten some supper.’ She had interpreted his look as concern for his sister. ‘We’ve wrapped some hot stones for her and put them in her bed to keep her warm.’

‘Perhaps you should volunteer to go and ask Mora to come to see your sister tomorrow, Romanus,’ Flavius said suddenly, raising his voice over the sound of the harp. ‘And to bring her colleague with her. He can perform miracles, so we heard today. He seems to be more successful than she is at curing people.’ He eased himself back on the bench with a groan, flexing the fingers of his injured hand. ‘He can take a look at this while he is at it.’ He gave a strange harsh laugh which made Romanus flinch with terror.

A short while later he rose to go outside and beckoned Romanus with him. The boy hesitated, then reluctantly he followed his uncle to the door. The night was bright with stars. They walked across the yard and stood leaning on the gate, looking out across the fields down towards the marshes. Romanus could see the great cone shape of the Tor in the distance outlined against the luminous sky.

‘You will go over there tomorrow, and you will tell them that I have left.’ Flavius turned to him. ‘You will beg them both to come and see your sister. Then you will return and if you do not want your mother and sister to see what happens you will make sure they leave the place and do not return until after dark. Is that clear?’

Romanus shook his head. ‘I don’t think I can –’

‘You can, boy and you will. Do you want me to kill Mora?’

Romanus went white. His eyes were round and huge in the starlight. Flavius smiled. ‘I saw how you looked at her. That was the reason you cried out her name and ruined everything for me today. You like her. Do you want her to die horribly? It is up to you, boy. Do you want to serve the Emperor, to be regarded as a warrior? Do you want to write your name in history with any woman you want, or are you going to remain no better than a petty tribesman in an unknown corner of this godforsaken island? You want her to notice you, don’t you?’ He paused. ‘Well, I will let you save her. How is that? She won’t know what has happened to her precious Yeshua, I shall make sure of that. You can take her away. Be a man. But of course, you are not yet a man, are you. How old are you boy? Have you had a woman yet?’ He laughed. ‘Well now is your chance. Do you want her to go to that filthy druid priest we saw on the island? What was his name, Cynan? What kind of name is that?’ He spat over the gate. ‘Or what about Yeshua? Do you think she lets him sleep with her after they have discussed their medicines and their bandages? I saw them looking at each other. She likes him. You want her to look at you like that, don’t you?’ Finally he stopped. He glared at Romanus. ‘Right?’

Romanus nodded. His mouth had gone dry. He felt like a fish, pinned wriggling into the mud by a toothed bone harpoon. He watched as his uncle turned away and went to piss into the ditch by the kitchen house. He saw him hitch his clothes back into place and then walk back towards the main house. In seconds he had ducked into the entrance and out of sight and Romanus was alone.

Abi sighed. She was sitting outside on the bench, the crystal on her lap in the darkness. She glanced up at the stars. The rain had blown away and the night was clear now. She could see the Big Dipper low on the horizon, just as Romanus and Flavius had seen it all those years ago. She shivered as the wind cut through the orchard, lifting the hair on the back of her neck. The scene had ended. She had looked away and when she looked back the view had changed. It was almost imperceptible, this shift of perspective, a change of focus between one breath and the next. She didn’t need Athena or Justin to show her how to use the crystal after all. She had found the way again on her own. She had come out with it in her pocket and seated herself in the darkness and waited. She looked over her shoulder towards the house. The windows were in darkness now. Everyone must have gone to bed. She glanced at her watch. It was after two a.m. Stiffly she rose to her feet. She still didn’t feel sleepy. She carefully re-wrapped the stone and groped in her pocket for her torch. The hiding place was a small leaf-lined hole, almost cosy in the light of the beam. She tucked the stone inside and pushed some leaves over it, then she turned back to the garden. Switching off the torch she wandered on down towards the orchard in the starlight. When she came home after speaking to Athena she had found the B & B guests were back. Cal had invited them to supper to cheer them up because of the rain. Abi had slunk past the kitchen and up to her own room. There was too much to think about to volunteer herself for social duties.

Justin the killer. Justin the druid. She felt absurdly cheated. Even betrayed. The whole family obviously knew about his history and yet Cal had mentioned nothing and Ben had thought it safe to bring Justin back to advise her.

She had sat for a long time on the end of her bed, staring into space before putting on her jacket and coming outside to look for the stone in its hiding place at the base of the old oak tree. And now she had a new worry to distract her: Flavius, who was forcing Romanus to betray his family and Mora. Surely the boy hadn’t believed that bit about sparing Mora’s life. But he was a child. This man was his uncle and he was dazzled by the brush with Imperial purple.

So, was Mora dead? Abi gave a rueful smile. Of course she was dead. But somehow she wanted her to have lived to a happy old age, not to have been murdered by the vengeful and vicious Flavius. She couldn’t bear that to have happened. She had become involved. And it mattered. Jesus. Her Jesus, her lord and saviour would not, could not, have allowed these innocent people to have died to save him. But then, over the millennia how many people had died for his cause? That was what he did. He inspired loyalty and love – to the death. She clenched her fists in her pockets.

Somewhere nearby a fox barked suddenly. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She turned round, staring into the darkness. Here under the apple trees the starlight wasn’t so bright. The orchard was full of shadows. She was looking for signs of movement. He could be here now. Justin. She knew he poked around Woodley in the dark. She had caught him at it before. What was more natural than that he would come here after their farcical meeting this morning? He had a key to the house. He had a right to be here. She moved quietly towards an old apple tree, reaching out her hand to the rough bark, feeling the reassuring touch of the cold lichen under her fingers. The night smelled cold and fresh, of moss and grass and flowers and suddenly the acrid tang of fox.

She ground her teeth together in frustration. She was not going to be terrorised by this man any more than she was going to let herself be terrorised by Kier. ‘Where are you? I know you’re there?’ Her voice rang through the silence and there was a panic-stricken squawk and flap of wings as roosting pheasants soared up into the darkness. She waited, listening to the fall of broken twigs as the birds disappeared out over the fields. Nothing. Silence slowly fell back across the orchard. She felt for her torch and defiantly she switched it on, following the narrow beam as she swung it round. Nothing but grass and trees and a small flash of white from the rapidly disappearing scut of a rabbit fleeing into the brambles.

Taking a deep breath, she turned back towards the gate, fighting the urge to run, forcing herself to move steadily across the long grass until she emerged back into the garden.

Cal had left the back door unlocked. She pushed it open quietly and heard a small enquiring bark. The two dogs were lying, head on paws, by the fire which had been banked up for the night behind a guard. Thiz climbed to her feet and came over, tail wagging.

‘Hello, girl,’ Abi whispered. Pym had lowered his head again and closed his eyes, bored. Abi reached for the light switch. The kettle had nearly boiled when the door opened and Mat appeared, swathed in a dressing gown, his grey hair on end.

‘Ah, I thought it might be you. Everything all right?’

‘Sorry, did I wake you?’

He shook his head. ‘Would you like to make me one of those?’ She had reached down the tea caddy from the lintel over the fire. ‘Ben rang. He said to give you a message. He said he had looked it up and,’ he scrabbled for a piece of paper by the phone, ‘Yeshua – is that how it’s pronounced? – is thought to have been a Hebrew short form of Yehoshua, or Joshua, and yes, you could be right.’ He glanced up. ‘Does that make sense?’

Abi smiled. ‘Oh yes. It makes sense.’

‘And he said to tell you he was worried about you.’

‘He told you what happened?’

‘He’s an idiot. He should have known better than to get in touch with that blasted brother of ours. I hope he didn’t frighten you.’

‘No, he didn’t frighten me. He made me cross. I’m afraid I left rather precipitously.’ She handed him a mug. He took it and lowered himself with a groan onto one of the chairs by the fire. Thiz went and sat next to him, leaning fondly against his knees. Abi took the chair on the far side of the fire. ‘Did he really kill someone once?’

‘Who?’ Mat took a sip of tea.

‘Justin. Athena told me he had killed someone.’

Mat shook his head. ‘No. I believe almost everything I hear about Just, but not that. Why on earth would she tell you that? He has a temper. He is still the same spoiled brat he was at seven years old in some ways, but he’s no killer. What a ludicrous suggestion.’

‘So, that’s not why you hate him.’

Mat gave a hollow laugh. ‘No. I hate him because he told me once that he could have Cal off me any time he wanted. I know he couldn’t. She wouldn’t. But – ’ He paused and shook his head, ‘There is always that lurking fear at the back of one’s mind that he could do it. Against her will. And the fact that he even threatened it…’ His voice trailed away. ‘He’s ten years younger than me. So is she.’

‘Oh Mat. She loves you so much. Even I, a stranger, could see that the first time I met you.’

He smiled. ‘I know. It’s not logical. But there is nothing I can do about it. The fear is always there.’ He reached down and fondled the dog’s ears. For a second she thought he was going to cry.

She looked away, giving him time to compose himself. ‘Is he really a druid?’ she asked after a moment.

Mat laughed. ‘Oh yes, I think that is what he would call himself, or something like it. He’s very knowledgeable about alternative beliefs and paganism and comparative theologies. I’m not sure what his own gods look like, but he’s very sincere about whatever it is. I gather there are people who think of him as some sort of priest. He’s conducted marriage ceremonies and funerals. He has written a couple of books and I understand he’s writing another. That’s why he comes here. Grandfather had a huge collection of books on folklore and stuff. He used to talk to Just about it when he was a little boy. Neither Ben nor I were interested, but baby brother lapped it all up.’

‘So he doesn’t believe all this just to spite Ben?’

‘No. No, I don’t think so. He’s very sincere. Ben actually has a lot of respect for him. Why else would he have called him in to try and help you. I think Ben is a bit wary of the church’s teaching on some things. He’s not very happy about exorcism and hell and damnation. He’s a gentle soul, is Ben. He would prefer to ask nicely for ghosts to leave.’ He smiled. ‘He’s genuinely worried about the Kieran Scotts of this world and their approach. He sees that as very damaging, not just to you, but to the souls involved.’