Time's Legacy

by Barbara Erskine

  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.’

  Abi’s eyes widened. ‘I didn’t realise he felt like that.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘But that leaves the question, has someone suggested that I be exorcised? Someone apart from Kier, I mean? I don’t want to be exorcised and I am sure you don’t want your resident ghosts to be moved on. We are all very happy as we are. Has the bishop suggested it?’

  Mat shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. We were only asked to give you bed and board.’ He gave her a weary grin. ‘Ben is in charge of the spiritual department.’

  ‘Is he furious with me for running out on him?’

  ‘No. He’s furious with Justin.’

  ‘And Justin has gone?’

  ‘I can’t help but say I hope so.’

  Abi nodded. ‘I can see why he’s such a disruptive force around here.’

  Mat stood up. ‘Well, it’s very late. I’m for my bed. Will you turn off the lights when you go up?’

  She nodded. ‘Of course. I’ll sit here for a few minutes longer and finish my tea.’ Behind the wire mesh of the fireguard a lone flame flickered, throwing shadows up into the chimney.

  Why had she said the ghosts were happy? Mora wasn’t happy. Mora was worried. Afraid. Frantically trying to contact her. And she, Abi, had seen off the one man who might be able to help. She sighed, picturing Justin for a moment. His eyes with their steady half-humorous gaze, his face with the same strong bones as his brothers, the long straight nose, the smile which like theirs could be so attractive and had, she had thought for a while, that extra something that makes a man irresistible to women. She bit her lip. He could have helped her feel her way through the enigma which was that small family, out there in the garden, trapped in some eternal cycle of fear and retribution. Were they trying to explain? To exonerate themselves for their actions? To tell the world what had happened? Or were they, whatever she had felt to the contrary, merely replaying an endless video, trapped somehow in the ether, shadows without souls who were doomed to re-enact forever some small part in what was arguably the most momentous piece of history ever.

  She leaned forward to stroke Thiz as the dog came over to sit beside her, leaning against her legs. This animal at least recognised her as some sort of a healer. She smiled. She could feel it too, the warmth and reassurance flowing through her hands. So why could she not do it any more for people? For a while she sat in silence, enjoying the dog’s trust, then slowly her thoughts turned back to Justin. Why had Athena said he was a killer? She wouldn’t have made it up. But surely his own brother would have known about it if he was. Especially if he had reason to hate Justin so much.

  But he had got away with it, hadn’t he. Otherwise he would be in prison.

  The dog sensed Abi’s withdrawal of attention and with a huge sigh she climbed to her feet and went back to the fire. She lay down with a thump next to Pym and closed her eyes. It was a clear hint that all this thinking in the early hours was a bad thing. Abi gave a rueful smile and stood up. Tomorrow she would go and see Athena again. Force her to explain what it was exactly that Justin had done.

  ‘She’s gone away for a couple of days.’ Bella looked up as she went into the shop. ‘Her ex is being buried today and she’s gone to the funeral.’

  Abi murmured a quick silent prayer for the deceased, who she had felt wandering so disconsolately around Athena’s flat. ‘Where has she gone, do you know?’ It was wrong to be indignant, to resent the poor man for being buried when she needed so badly to talk to his ex-wife. No, it wasn’t just wrong, it showed how completely skewed her values had become.

  ‘London somewhere.’

  So, she was not going to find out from Athena what she meant, not today at any rate. That left Ben, to whom she owed a huge apology.

  There were no cars parked outside the Rectory, and no reply when she rang the bell. She stood for a few moments looking out across the leaf-strewn lawn, bereft. The world moved on. Everyone was busy, going about their lives. At the manor the B & B guests had packed and paid and driven away; Cal and Mat had gone off on one of their trips to Taunton. That left the Serpent Stone and Mora.

  ‘You were weeping just now?’ Mora came and stood near Yeshua as he sat near the sacred spring. She had waited for him to notice her, studying his face. He was lost in a reverie, his attention far away in the spaces of time where she could never dream of following him. She sat down a few paces away from him, under one of the sacred yews.

  He looked at her and nodded, his eyes still full of unhappiness. ‘So much cruelty, so much hatred in the world. Sometimes in my meditations, I see such terrible things. The suffering of my people. I want to help them, but they won’t listen. They will never listen.’

  ‘Your people?’ she said gently. ‘That Roman said you were a king.’

  Yeshua raised his hands in a gesture of despair and confusion. ‘Sometimes I feel like a king. Other times,’ he shrugged, ‘I am no-one.’ He paused. ‘When I was born,’ he went on quietly after a while, ‘there were signs in the sky. Two planets came together to form a brilliant great star, a star that foretold the birth of a king in the town where I was born, over the house where I was born. My mother was visited – ’ He paused and shook his head. ‘No matter. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Suffice to say that my father wasn’t my father, although he too came from the royal house generations before. Wise men, astrologers from far away, came to speak to my parents and they brou
ght me gifts. They too had heard the prophecy; they had followed my star. They explained the gifts were symbols of my destiny. It made my mother terribly afraid for me and for them. Gold for kingship and myrrh for death.’ He reached across and took her hand. ‘King Herod heard about me and decided I was a rival for his throne. He resolved to have me killed, toddler as I was, and when no-one would tell him where I was – I was protected, Mora, by everyone – he ordered that all the little boys of around my age in the area should be killed.’

  Mora caught her breath.

  ‘Herod was a vicious and ruthless man, even with his own family.’ He withdrew his hand from hers and sat, his arms around his knees, gazing down into the water of the spring. ‘Even then, after he had done such terrible things, people cared for me. They hid me and helped us when my family decided to flee the country to get away from him.’ He looked at her, and for a moment she saw, still lurking below the surface, the restless unhappy boy he must have been as he fled with his family far away from his home. ‘Those children died, Mora, to save me. That man, Flavius, represents the Roman will to stamp out any threat to their power. Herod Antipas is one of King Herod’s sons. He now governs in my country. He is different from his father in many ways, but it appears he still maintains this secret band of men dedicated to finding me – or, perhaps not just me, but anyone who might be a threat to the stability of the countries around the eastern end of the great sea. I don’t know if Flavius was one of those who slaughtered those little boys all those years ago. He is old enough to have been there, but he is one of them in his heart. And now he works for Antipas or for Tiberius himself, and he has followed me across the world, always just behind me. Never before have I seen his face except in my nightmares.’ He paused thoughtfully. ‘Never before has he come this close to killing me.’

  A cold breath of wind strayed across the spring, throwing a line of ripples across the clear face of the water. He stared down into it silently. They both saw the shadows there, red, like blood. ‘When my kinsman Joseph returns with his ships I will go with him. I will meet Flavius and his like face to face, but in my own country. It is there I must confront my destiny.’ He glanced up at her. ‘Your cold, windy western winter will come soon and close the seas. I am in God’s hands. I’m so sorry, Mora, but I must be gone before then.’