Ahead of them the old beggar shivered in the ditch by the gate. She scented the Galdramerr long before the horses appeared, and began tossing the bags out of the cart, ready to pull it up on to the verge. She tugged frantically at the handles, but the mud was deep at the bottom of the ditch and the wheels had stuck. The gates were opening. The mares passed with a rush of hooves and a fleeting shimmer of pale, luminescent blue light. She abandoned the bags and the useless cart and darted after them. But the gates shut fast before she could follow.
‘There’s no refuge for the roofless in the bright hall,’ she muttered, sliding back into the ditch and chipping at the mud under the wheels. ‘No welcome fire on the warm hearth, no meat on the spit and no mead flagon filled to flowing. There’s nothing for a poor kerling cast out and left to suck on the chilly breast of the tempest season.’
She worked until the wheels were freed and the cart pulled easily out of the ditch. Then she packed up her bags and set off along the road, heading east and then south to winter among the richer pickings to be had around the towns and the factories close to the sea.
CHAPTER 67
The much-dreaded interview with the headmistress went a lot better than Maddie had dared to hope. The absence of the truancy officer had blunted the edge on what had become a permanent headache over the weekend, that vanished completely when Mrs Gerson had made her intention very clear from the outset of the interview.
‘We do not tolerate bullying in this school!’
Maddie drove away not convinced that the decision to keep Caz at home for the rest of the term, while the situation was thoroughly investigated, had been taken in his best interests.
‘Will you bother to work outside school?’ she asked doubtfully.
Caz reclined the seat and made himself comfortable. ‘Of course I will.’
‘I want you to move back to the lodge where I can keep an eye on you.’
‘Somehow I can’t see the old man being happy about that right now, not unless you want him to have this heart attack you and Daisy are convinced he’s in for.’
‘But he agrees with me that you’ll ruin your whole life if you don’t pass your exams next summer!’
‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘But I do! I’m just so glad Mrs Gerson was so accommodating.’
‘Why shouldn’t she be?’
‘You can’t afford to have any more time away from school. You’ve got to get through your exams.’
Caz tipped his hat down over his face. ‘I don’t need to pass exams.’
‘You do! You can’t just go on riding horses all your life!’
‘As long as the old man’s willing to pay me, I can.’
‘And if he doesn’t.’
‘Someone else will.’
Maddie pursed her lips, drumming her fingers irritably on the steering wheel. ‘You can’t be so completely without ambition, Caz!’
‘I’m not.’
‘So what do you want to do? What do you want to achieve with your life?’
‘Short term or long term?’
‘Both!’
He grinned under the hat. ‘Short term, stay alive. Long term, ride Kyri forever. How’s that?’
She didn’t bother answering.
All four girls who had featured with him on the website were sat on the bench outside Mrs Gerson’s office, waiting for their interview. Lauren and Gin joined them. They had become good friends since the party, particularly since Gin had started going out with Laurence. She was a link to Caz, if nothing else.
‘I hope everything goes okay,’ said Lauren. ‘I’ll be thinking of you.’
‘It’ll be fine,’ Melanie assured her. ‘We’ll be offered chocolate and sympathy and oodles of counseling. It’ll be okay.’
Lauren looked bleak. ‘Are you all going to take time out too? It won’t be the same around here without you.’
‘We’re not going anywhere,’ said Hayley. ‘Caz is the one that got the worst of it. They can sort it out better with him out of the way for a while.’
‘But it’s going to be so tough without him!’
Kerys shrugged. ‘He’s got what he wanted.’
‘It’s only for three weeks,’ Melanie reminded them. ‘He’ll be back in January.’
‘He won’t be,’ said Julia. ‘He’s always been telling us what a waste of time school is. Now that he’s out, he’ll be out for good.’
‘But he’s got to do his exams.’
Hayley shook her head. ‘He’ll find a way out of them. He always does. He won’t be back.’
‘Mel, why don’t you face a few facts for a change?’ said Julia. ‘Caz has never bothered about exams and he probably doesn’t have a hope of passing them anyway. He’s not exactly an A-star student, is he?’
Melanie was shocked by her tone. ‘Are you saying that he’s thick all of a sudden?’
‘We’ve always been too accepting,’ said Hayley. ‘Whatever Caz does or says, it’s always wonderful.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘But maybe it isn’t after all.’
Gin sniggered. ‘So the worm’s on the turn, right?’
‘It’s about time,’ nodded Kerys. Her normally open face was shuttered. Her mouth was set, her eyes narrowed. ‘We’ve let him be too addictive for too long.’
Melanie nudged her. ‘Hey, you’re talking about friends here! Good friends!’
‘I know, but when everyone starts calling us The Can’t Let Go Club, it makes you think, doesn’t it?’
‘That’s always been just some silly thing that never meant anything to anyone.’
‘Until it got shouted out online,’ said Julia.
‘Come on!’ urged Melanie. ‘Like Jas says, that site is just a load of crap. We all know there’s no older woman and there never has been. It doesn’t stop us being friends, does it? What about loyalty? Doesn’t that count for anything any more?’
‘It’s not about loyalty, Mel, it’s about getting a life,’ said Kerys. ‘I don’t want to be labelled Too Sad to Kiss for the rest of my days, especially on his account. He’s not worth it.’
‘None of us ever had a hope of competing with that horse anyway,’ commented Hayley.
‘So will someone please tell me exactly what’s so special about this animal?’ asked Lauren.
‘She’s pretty amazing,’ said Kerys. ‘They’re pretty amazing together.’
‘He’d give up his life for Kyri,’ agreed Melanie.
‘Which is more than he would ever do for any of us,’ said Julia.
This was treading on dangerous ground for Lauren.
‘You make them sound like a couple, for heaven’s sake!’ she exclaimed. ‘A horse is a horse. It might fall over and break a leg tomorrow. He won’t stop living because it’s had to be shot.’
Melanie tried to explain. ‘It’s not as simple as that, Lauren. Horses mean more to Caz than people and if you won’t accept it, you haven’t got a hope of getting back with him.’
‘Who said I was history?’
‘She hasn’t had a poem,’ put in Gin.
‘That’s true,’ agreed Hayley.
Julia nodded. ‘That means she’s not dumped yet.’
It only occurred to Melanie that Lauren hadn’t been enough of a long-term fixture with Caz to get his usual parting shot. She still had hers in a box in her bedroom. It was really sweet and she had thought that the others had kept theirs too, but now she wasn’t so sure. For the first time since she had known them, and that was before junior school, she had the distinct feeling that no one was on her side in this conversation.
Lauren knew she had the edge. ‘You know what, Mel? Maybe the only way anyone will ever get him off his pedestal is if he comes up against a girl who won’t take no for an answer for once.’
‘That’s not love, Lauren.’
‘It is to me.’
CHAPTER 68
Caz heard Freyja’s heart-shout as she took up the pace. He threw down the blade he was grinding and dragged off the leather apron
, just as Sir Jonas looked in at the armoury door.
‘Come into the security room, my boy,’ he said quietly. ‘There’s something I think you should see.’
‘It’s Freyja, isn’t it? There’s something going on with Freyja!’
The old man nodded. ‘And the Lady Sibylla.’
‘Jem? What’s she doing with Freyja? I’ll get straight after them!’
‘I suggest you come and look at the recording first. We can keep an eye on their progress perfectly well from here, and if anything goes wrong I am sure Kyri will be swiftly behind them. As you will see, she remains unperturbed for the present.’
The hidden eye on the corner of the barn kept the horses under constant surveillance in the winter paddocks. The screen showed them lined up along the fence looking into the copse. The colt charged the length of the fence, bucking and kicking excitedly with his tail on end. Kyri stood alert and ready at the rails where the bridle path led into the forest.
Sir Jonas rewound the recording. ‘I am assuming the Lady Sibylla intends a repeat of her ritual at Thunderslea, although whatever possessed her to choose Freyja as her companion can only be guessed at. The mare has gone more or less willingly, it would seem. Watch this!’
Jemima appeared at the gate. The horses looked up when she called but it was Freyja who barged Rúna out of the way and reached the gate first. Jemima had stepped away from the gate, not wanting to be cornered, but the mare had followed her and accepted a slice of apple. Greatly daring, Jemima held up the head collar and very slowly fastened it around her neck.
Caz leaned forward, studying the image on screen. Freyja’s ears were pricked. She appeared unusually docile as she bowed her head and followed Jemima through the gate.
‘It looks more like Freyja has decided to go with Jem,’ he commented.
‘So it would appear,’ agreed Sir Jonas. ‘We must keep an eye on the first checkpoint.’
Nothing was happening on the screen covering the southern end of the Beech Walk. The recording picked up on the screen surveying the stable block, showing Freyja accepting the bit and standing quietly for Jemima to fasten the buckles. She stepped forward and put her head over the door when the saddle was laid on her back, but made no attempt to lash out when the girth was tightened.
Caz shook his head, amazed. ‘That’s got to be a first.’ He pressed the fast-forward button to the point where Freyja was standing beside the mounting block, murmuring, ‘Good move, Jem,‘ when he saw her slide into the saddle and test the mare’s reaction before she put her feet in the stirrups.
Freyja bounded forward as she took up the reins. They disappeared around the side of the barn. Caz checked the screen on the paddock. Kyri was still watching over the fence. There was no movement on any of the screens covering the forest.
‘I see no sign of Mister Alan,’ Sir Jonas remarked testily. ‘Do you know where he is working this afternoon?’
‘He’s down at the forge.’
It irked the old man that Caz and Alan could override the surveillance system and he dared not ask them how they did it. They had no business to come and go as they pleased, considering themselves unaccountable to him for only the God knew what unreported deeds and decisions that were being undertaken beyond his control.
The suspense in the security room was unbearable. Caz knew Freyja was going well, yet he sat rigidly upright alongside Sir Jonas, both of them with their eyes glued to the screen, waiting for Jemima to reach the first checkpoint.
‘There she is!’ Caz shouted in relief when Freyja galloped past the surveillance point and headed up the Beech Walk where the next camera took up the recording. Sir Jonas sighed and visibly relaxed. The Lady Sibylla was still in the saddle. To the critical eye she was somewhat tense around the shoulders but appeared to be in control.
‘I must say that she is doing very well,’ he remarked.
‘She’ll do even better if she lets Freyja run.’ Caz stared at the screen willing her to settle. ‘Come on, Jem, you can do it,’ he muttered. ‘Remember, hands easy, eyes straight ahead, sit deep, give her her head. You can do this, Jem, you can do this. Nice and easy, nice and easy.’
As though she had heard him, they saw her shoulders loosen and her arms begin to relax. Freyja stretched her neck and increased her stride. Caz sat back in the chair and laughed. ‘Now she’s really flying! Go, Jem, go!’
Jemima had no idea why she took Freyja. She had gone to the paddock intending to collect Rúna, but it was Freyja who came to the gate first and Freyja who took the apple. The temptation was overwhelming and impossible to resist. The first moments on her back were terrifying, fast and wonderful. Jemima reached the gate into the forest, amazed to be still in the saddle. She ticked off every turn along the paths and tracks that she survived without being bucked off as a major achievement.
As they pounded up the incline into the Beech Walk, she began to relax and enjoy herself, enough to give Freyja her head at the turn onto the narrow track leading to Thunderslea. The upsurge in speed was so astounding that Jemima forgot her fear. The bright sun blurred between the passing trees as the forest floated by, gently weightless. Awed, she rode through a spectacular distortion of kaleidoscopic light and shadow, rushing under the unfaltering stride of a supremely fit and powerful horse. Freyja bore her rider over the bridge, through the labyrinth, into the split-second of darkness in the tunnel, and then out into the brilliance of the clear, afternoon sky shining softly blue over the clearing. She pulled up in front of the tree.
Jemima jumped down and came back to earth with a jolt as her feet hit the ground. She leaned against the mare’s side to catch her breath, laughing with relief.
‘I love you, Freyja,’ she gasped. ‘I’ll love you forever for doing this. Just don’t even think about going home without me. Okay?’
She knotted the reins and loosened the girth, and turned the mare away to drink at the spring. She took off her skullcap and fetched an armful of broken twigs and brushwood from the shelter under the trees to arrange between the firestones. Daisy had been a diligent instructor.
‘You keep the big stuff for simmering when you want the fire to draw through slow and steady. Go for small, dry twigs for a fast burner when you need a good hot flare for the pot.’
I need a good hot flare, she thought, but this time it’s not for the pot.
She sorted through the contents of the backpack while she was waiting for the wood to heat through. The hidden eye in the ash tree zoomed on the old hat pin and the pinch of fine, white hair laid out on a green silk scarf next to the hearth. It noted one of Daisy’s smallest flagons of mead, a selection of dried herbs and a miniature beeswax figure of the Goddess.
‘This is a lot different from last time,’ said Caz.
Sir Jonas nodded. ‘And no coincidence that it has been timed to coincide with the day of the full moon.’ He gasped with astonishment. ‘Oh my goodness!’
‘What’s that?’ exclaimed Caz abruptly.
Jemima had unfolded the cloak and put it on.
‘It’s the Goddess cloak!’ cried the old man. ‘It was my grandmother’s! I thought she’d been buried in it! And the amber brow band!’
‘Where did Jem get them?’
‘They must have been hidden all this time up in her room! I thought we’d cleared it out! Wonder of wonders! What a day!’
It was a short autumn day that was already coming to an end. When she was satisfied that the fire was burning fast and bright, Jemima picked up the hatpin. She tested the point and pricked a finger, but the scratch wasn’t deep enough to bleed. The second, much deeper attempt brought tears to her eyes and made her gasp.
‘Ouch!’
The blood splashed over the figure of the Goddess and dripped freely into the flagon before the wound began to granulate. Chanting the invocation she had learned from Lady Christina’s book, she walked clockwise three times around the fire, sprinkling drops of bloody mead to seal the circle.
‘Hail to Thee, bright Queen
of Heaven,
Mother of Seers and the Far-Sighted;
Cast thy cloak upon my shoulders,
Lend thy wings that I fly fearless,
Into the far-flung heights,
and the dread-drawn depths.
Let fire flame and cloud cluster,
Let wind sing and earth mutter,
Let thy tears fall from my eyes,
And guide my sight that I see truly,
Into the far-flung heights,
and the dread-drawn depths.
Hail to Thee, bright Queen of Heaven,
Ever thy servant shall I be.’
She stood before the fire to make the offering. The cats’ hair was first to fizzle into the flames, and then the herbs – rosemary and thyme, mint and marjoram. As the sweet, white smoke curled around her, Jemima held up the figure of the Goddess and dropped it among the flaring stems. The wax spluttered and burned with a bright, blue-green flame.
She drank a mouthful of mead and sat down, arranging the cloak to cover her knees. Making a great effort to put the pain in her finger to the back of her mind, she concentrated on the rose-coloured glow in the centre of the sacrificial fire. But it was the dark space wavering over the melted wax that drew her into clear vision... where horses gathered and lifted their heads at the sound of the horn... where shadow hounds bayed and leapt among them.
A spray of fine sparks shot up from the wax. The vision narrowed and shrank. Desperate not to miss whatever the Goddess might want her to see, Jemima forced herself not to blink as she gazed at the final image – small and remote, a carved figure on a woodcut in the likeness of a mighty tree.
The fire collapsed. A hawk called out in the forest. The Goddess had spoken, and the vision had been strong and powerful. Jemima closed her eyes.
I will remember today as long as I live, she thought. People are always nasty about things they don’t understand. They don’t understand strong and special places like Thunderslea. Perhaps they will never understand strong and special people like Caz and Sir Jonas, but it doesn’t matter. This time Andy will be okay. He’ll go to a hunting yard, Sir Jonas will live for years and years, and Caz will be okay too.
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