He turned and walked away across the lawn. She sat still gazing down at the crystal and realised she was almost disappointed that he had left so abruptly. She was beginning to enjoy their verbal sparring. Looking up again she watched him surreptitiously as he walked around the side of the house and out of sight. Not once did he look back.
Romanus was sitting by the fire whittling a stick with his knife. He was listening to the sounds coming from behind the screens which separated off his sister’s sleeping room. Sorcha was sponging Petra with warm water, changing her bedgown and laying her back as gently as she could onto the sheets of the bed. Romanus put his hands over his ears as he heard Petra crying out with pain. She tried so hard to be brave. He could picture her biting back the sounds, clutching at Sorcha’s arm, desperate to keep her agony from her mother. He glanced at the doorway. Lydia was outside with Flavius. He could hear their raised voices. Again and again she was begging him to leave, to go back home, to abandon his stupid quest for this man, Yeshua. His attention was abruptly brought back into the room as Sorcha appeared, a bowl of warm water in her hand, a towel over her arm. She looked pale and upset. ‘Go and talk to your sister, Romanus. See if you can take her mind off her pain,’ she whispered. She went to the doorway and threw out the water. ‘I can’t bear to see her like this. I don’t know what to do. Your poor mother spent the whole night sitting up with her.’
Romanus climbed to his feet. He looked down at the piece of wood he had been carving and with a grimace tossed it into the fire. Ramming his knife back into the sheath at his belt he went through to Petra’s small room. ‘Hey. How are you?’ He sat down on the stool by her bed. ‘Do you want your gifted brother to sing for you?’ He grinned. It was a standing joke between them. She could sing. He couldn’t. Not a note. She shook her head, blinking back tears. He leaned forward and took her hands between his. Tending for his adored sister had given him surprising gentleness for a boy. ‘Poor you. I wish I could do something.’
‘Can you fetch Mora?’ Her voice was husky. ‘Mora and her healer friend. She said he would be able to help me.’ She tried to smile. ‘Please, Rom.’
He scowled. ‘I’m not sure I can.’ He had been thinking about Flavius’ command all night.
‘Why?’ Glancing up he saw the panic in her eyes.
He looked away. ‘I don’t know if she’s there.’
‘She is. I heard Uncle Flavius tell Mama. He told her to send for them, but Mama felt we should wait. She doesn’t want to ask too many favours at the druid school, I don’t know why.’ Her eyes filled with tears.
‘Because we can’t pay them back. Because I wanted to go there to study and I’ve told her I don’t want to any more.’ He looked away from her shamefacedly. He wanted more than anything to go with Flavius back to Rome and then on to Judea. He couldn’t tell them that though. Not any of them, not even Petra. And he was ashamed of wanting to go. Of wanting to go with a man who was planning to murder the one person who could help his sister. His hands tightened over her swollen fingers and he heard her gasp of pain. ‘I’m sorry.’ He released them guiltily. ‘Oh Petra, I don’t know what to do.’
He looked up and found her gazing at him. Her lovely eyes and long lashes were still full of tears, but he saw the love and trust there. He scrambled to his feet and turning away from her ducked out from behind the screens and ran across the main room. Outside he fled across the yard towards the gate in the palisade. In seconds he was running down the field as fast as he could go.
Lydia watched him in astonishment. ‘Petra?’ Suddenly frightened she ducked back into the house, leaving Flavius on his own. It was only seconds before he turned to follow Romanus out of the gate.
He caught up with him at the edge of the lake. ‘So? What happened? Why haven’t you gone to the island as I told you?’
Romanus shrugged. He kicked hard at an old willow stump, protruding from the reeds and was pleased when it hurt.
‘Your sister is in pain. She needs her medicine.’
‘She wants me to fetch the healer.’
‘So why don’t you?’ Flavius’s voice was suddenly persuasive.
‘Because if I do you will kill him.’
‘If you don’t, as I told you, I will kill Mora.’
There was a moment of silence. The boy’s knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists.
Flavius gave him a cold smile. ‘I tell you what. I will intercept him on his way back after his visit. That will give him time to look after your sister. Remember what I told you. It is up to you. If you can distract Mora and keep her back she will never find out what happened to him and I will spare her life. It is up to you, Romanus. Everything is in your hands.’
‘And if I do what you ask? You will take me with you?’
‘If you have proved yourself worthy, I will take you with me.’ His gaze was watchful, reading the conflicting emotions on the boy’s face. ‘You will have to convince them that it is safe to come here. That will be up to you. If you don’t do it I shall have to resort to other means. If that happens, I can’t guarantee that Mora won’t be hurt.’ He looked down thoughtfully at the dugout canoes pulled up on the mud. ‘Go now. The sooner the better. Think of poor Petra’s agony. She needn’t go through another night like last night. I could hear her crying even in my guesthouse. Think how pleased and relieved your mother would be.’
Romanus was standing looking down at the boats, a picture of indecision. His hand strayed to the mooring rope, looped round the willow stump. ‘You swear you won’t hurt Mora?’ He didn’t appear to be worrying about Yeshua, Flavius noted. In fact the boy was probably jealous of the man’s closeness to Mora. Perhaps secretly he would welcome the disappearance of a rival. It had obviously never occurred to him that his uncle might break his word and kill her too.
‘I swear.’ Flavius brought his right fist up to his heart with a thump. ‘The word of a soldier of Rome.’ He stooped and loosened the painter. ‘Go on. Hop in. I will give you a push off.’
Romanus hesitated for just one more second, then he nodded. He stooped and scrabbled under the seat for the paddle. ‘Will you tell Mama where I have gone?’
Flavius nodded. ‘I’ll tell her. And Petra. Be as quick as you can, for her sake.’
‘Silly boy!’ Abi came to with a start. ‘Can’t you see he doesn’t mean it! For God’s sake – ’ She stopped in mid-sentence, aware suddenly that Mat and the dogs were approaching across the lawn.
‘Hello there! You looked lost in thought. I’m sorry. I always seem to be interrupting.’ Mat grinned at her comfortably.
She stroked the two dogs. ‘No. I was thinking about coming in. It gets cold as the sun goes down.’ How long had she been sitting there, for heaven’s sake? Last time she had been aware of the sunlight it had been hot, shining across the lawn, sending the shadows slanting towards the house. Now the garden was dull and overcast and wisps of mist were trailing in across the hedges. From somewhere she could smell bonfires, rich with spicy apple smoke.
She hesitated. Mora. She had to see Mora. Had to try to speak to her. She had expected her to appear, but the story she had been watching was about that little fool, Romanus.
‘I’ll follow you in.’ She shrugged. ‘Just trying to think a few things through. I’ll wander about for a few minutes more if you don’t mind.’
Mat nodded. ‘Take as long as you like. See you later.’ He whistled the dogs and strode on past her down towards the orchard.
Abi turned round slowly and picked up the crystal which at some point had slipped from her hands onto the bench. It was ice-cold. Tucking it into the pocket of her jacket she glanced over her shoulder. She wanted to walk towards the orchard, but if Mat had strolled on that way her chance of solitude was gone. Instead she retraced her steps through the flowerbeds and back in a circuitous route which would take her round the far side of the house. From there she could cut across the paddock and down the steep hillside towards the churchyard wall, the churchyard which was, she now r
ealised, Cynan’s island. The ancient church had been built on his hermitage, his private sanctuary, his druid shrine.
The grass was wet with dew and she shivered as the hems of her trousers grew rapidly cold and damp. ‘Mora? Can you see me?’ Her fingers closed over the crystal in her pocket. ‘Can you hear me? What happened when Romanus reached you? Can you tell me? Can I help?’
There was no answer.
‘Justin was here this afternoon.’
Cal was peeling potatoes when she walked back into the kitchen. Mat was still out with the dogs. Cal looked up sharply. ‘I thought Ben said it didn’t work out. He made a mistake asking him.’
Abi smiled. ‘He came over to give it another go. We talked. It was easier without Ben there.’
‘I can imagine.’ Cal selected another spud. ‘So, was he any help?’
‘I think so. He made me see things in a different light.’
‘Don’t tell Mat he came.’
Abi shook her head. ‘Of course not.’
‘Has he gone back to Wales?’
Abi shrugged. ‘He didn’t say. He just walked away.’ She picked up a knife and selected a potato. Digging out an eye she rinsed it and threw it into the bowl. ‘He’s a bit enigmatic, isn’t he?’
Cal smiled. ‘I suppose he is.’
‘Did you never really fancy him? Honestly?’
‘No.’ Cal stared at her. ‘No, of course not. That’s an outrageous thing to say.’
‘Tell Mat. Then the quarrel can be over.’
Cal shook her head. ‘Is that what Justin thinks? That I fancy him! The conceited bastard!’
‘No, Cal, it’s what Mat thinks. He told me.’
For a moment Cal froze. She stood without moving, a potato in her hand, her eyes on the bowl of peelings in front of her. ‘He doesn’t. He can’t. Not still! That’s crazy.’
‘Of course it’s crazy. But who says love is logical.’
Cal looked up suddenly. ‘Is this with your little miss vicar counselling hat on?’
‘The very same.’ Abi nodded. ‘I’m sorry, I should mind my own business, but I can’t bear to see you all hurting so much.’
Cal threw down the potato. ‘Where is he?’
‘Mat? He was out with the dogs. In the orchard. He must be coming in soon.’
Alone in the kitchen after Cal had taken down her jacket from the peg and run outside, Abi finished the potatoes, left them on the side and threw some logs on the fire. Then she settled down to wait. It was half an hour before Cal reappeared. Her hair was rumpled by the wind, her face worried. ‘I can’t find him. I’ve called and called. Are you sure he was going to the orchard?’
Abi frowned. ‘That’s what he said.’
‘He must have decided to walk a bit more. The dogs have been cooped up all day in the car. They will have been egging him on.’ She smiled uncomfortably.
‘Don’t worry about him, Cal. I’m sure he’s OK. He seemed quite cheerful just now when I talked to him.’
Cal looked pensive. ‘I was lying just now,’ she said suddenly. ‘Mat’s right. I do find Justin attractive. But he never fancied me.’ Automatically she reached for the potatoes and put the pan on the cooker.
Abi said nothing.
‘Mat had already asked me to marry him. I had never met his brother. Justin is always away somewhere. Then suddenly he walked in one day and smiled.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I was lost. Mat knew it. It has always been like that. Justin arrives and everyone in the room looks at him. It’s as though the rest of the cast have walked into the shadows leaving just the one spotlight on the stage.’
‘But you chose Mat.’
She nodded. ‘I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him, not like that. Not when it was what he expected. And anyway, Justin wasn’t for me. One day he will find a priestess who will perform a sacred marriage with him up in the mountains or down in the forest, attended by fairies and spirits of old.’ She wiped her eyes with the back of her arm and cleared her throat. ‘You are right. Mat knows. He has always known. And he always will know.’
‘But he is the one you chose,’ Abi repeated. ‘It wasn’t too late. You could have changed your mind. You could have run away with Justin. You could have dumped Mat. But you didn’t. You might have fancied Justin, but it’s Mat you love.’
Cal nodded again.
Behind them there was a sudden hiss of overflowing water on the hotplate as the potatoes came to the boil. Cal stood up and went to turn down the heat. Then she sat down again. ‘He comes here so seldom. Sometimes he is away for literally years without a word. That is what has brought this all to a head again. He started coming to borrow books, trying to do it without being seen. I caught him, just as you did.’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘After that I was somehow complicit. And now he is coming more openly. It’s bringing stuff out into the open again.’
‘So now is the time to lay the ghost,’ Abi said gently. ‘Talk to Mat. If you hide things he senses it. Blame me. Or even Ben. Reassure him that Justin has only come back because of me.’
Cal sighed. ‘I will. I’m a coward, that’s the trouble. I prefer to pretend things aren’t happening, hoping it will all go away. But it doesn’t of course.’ She paused. ‘What about a glass of wine while we wait for him to come in? I’ve a casserole in the oven, so supper is nearly ready.’
‘I’d love one.’ Abi stood up. ‘But first let me go and have a quick look outside. I know where I saw him last.’ She reached for her coat and for the torch which was kept beside the back door. ‘By the time you’ve poured one out for me, I’ll be back.’
She had a feeling she knew where he would be. She walked steadily, the torch beam on the ground ahead of her, through the garden, past the ruins, heading for the church.
It never seemed to be locked. Perhaps it was too far off the beaten track to be in danger from vandals or thieves but she knew when she turned the handle and heard the latch lift in the silence that he was there. He was sitting in the front row of chairs, the two dogs lying beside him in the aisle. They thumped their tails as she entered but made no move to greet her.
‘Mat?’
He didn’t move. She felt her throat tighten with fear. ‘Mat, are you all right?’
She walked towards him, the torch throwing a faint pool of light on the paving slabs. He was sitting staring at the altar. ‘Mat?’ She laid her hand gently on his shoulder.
‘I’m OK,’ he said at last. He sounded as if he was waking from a dream.
‘We were worried. Cal has been looking for you everywhere.’
‘I’m sorry.’ His voice was husky. For a moment longer he sat without moving then he gave his head a slight shake. ‘I saw her. I was watching her. Your priestess. She was here looking for you.’
Abi sat down next to him. She switched off the torch and they sat side by side in the darkness.
‘I’ve never seen a ghost before, Abi. I’ve heard so much about them. Imagined what it would be like. Ridiculed Cal and Justin, even Ben, and then suddenly there she was standing looking at me. I could smell her. A sort of static electric smell. I’ve never smelled anything like it before.’
Abi frowned. ‘I’ve never smelled anything like that.’
He shook his head. ‘It was wonderful. There was no mistake. I wasn’t imagining it.’
‘Why do you think she was looking for me?’ Abi’s eyes were growing used to the dark now. She could make out the faint outline of the window against the stars, the black silhouette of the altar. She stared round, wondering if Mora was still there.
‘She was searching for something. Someone.’
‘Perhaps it was Cynan. He was the man – ’ she paused, ‘one of the men, she loved. This was his special place.’
‘This was certainly a sacred place long before the Christians came,’ he nodded. ‘It is in the guidebooks. You know Glastonbury,’ he grinned suddenly, ‘a place where the veils are thin. Technically we may be on the “mainland” now,’ he drew the inverted commas in the
air with his fingers, ‘but we are on our own little island, and so is this church. We share those ancient Celts’ “mysticality”, their sense of mysticism.’
Abi smiled. ‘You are right, of course. I sensed it too, but I am distracted by the fact that it is a church. I was wrapping myself in prayer, not allowing her in.’
He glanced at her. In the darkness they were no more than two shadowy silhouettes. ‘Does it get in the way a lot?’
‘Being a priest?’
He nodded.
‘It shouldn’t. It is who I am.’ She paused. ‘But yes, I think that is one of my problems. I don’t seem to know how to integrate my belief in Jesus Christ with my knowledge that other things, things which are not officially compatible with Christianity, are out there. Things I find important. Things I can’t deny just because I am not supposed to see them.’
‘It sounds as if you need a concentrated seminar with both my brothers, one after the other.’
She gave a muted chuckle. ‘You are right.’ She sighed. ‘We must go back. Cal is opening the wine and supper is ready.’
‘And Mora has gone.’
She nodded. ‘I don’t sense her here. I’ll come again in the morning, and work at stripping away the fabric of Christianity so that I can talk to her. Although – ’ She stopped. She had been about to say that Mora of all people would understand about Jesus Christ.
He was there ahead of her. ‘I don’t think it matters, Abi. She needs to talk to you and she has consistently followed you around. Just stop and listen.’
How many people was it now, who had told her the same thing? As she stood up and turned to follow the dogs to the door Abi glanced over her shoulder into the darkness. It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried. She had tried again and again. Perhaps tomorrow Mora would come to her and this time they would find a way to talk.
‘Please come, Mora.’ Romanus was standing in the doorway of her house, his hair blowing in the wind which had risen over the marshes. ‘Petra is so ill. And she needs Yeshua. He could cure her, couldn’t he? His God is so powerful.’
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