The Master of Prophecy (The Sawyl Gwilym Chronicles Book 2)

by Benjamin Ford

  He thought of the peculiar events that had occurred at Silverthorne Lodge: his father’s warning against returning to this house, and the girl’s voice, which had been haunting his waking thoughts for months now.

  ‘Something bad happened here,’ Matthew said aloud without thinking. Sensing Liam’s unease at his ill-judged observation, he finally turned to face his companion. ‘My father warned me not to come here,’ he sighed. ‘Somehow he has knowledge of something terrible that happened here, perhaps centuries ago.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ whispered Liam, fearfully.

  ‘Neither do I, but I have to try and find out what happened, and to whom, before Dad goes mad. Our house in Portsmouth is partly made from stone that once stood somewhere in these grounds.’

  ‘The old coach house!’

  Matthew frowned, ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘I… I don’t know,’ gasped Liam uneasily. ‘It just… sort of popped into my head.’

  ‘Do you believe in ghosts and spirits, Liam?’

  Liam nodded emphatically. ‘Most definitely. You can’t live in this area and not believe in ghosts!’

  Matthew took a deep breath. ‘I think someone was murdered in that old coach house, and when the building was demolished and the stone was transported to Portsmouth to help build our family home, I believe the spirit came too!’

  ‘So your home in Portsmouth is haunted too?’

  Matthew shrugged his shoulders helplessly. ‘I don’t personally recall any ghostly goings on at the house, but Mum and I recently came to the conclusion that Dad started behaving oddly when we moved to the house, and at the weekend, his behaviour was very odd. He spoke in a completely different voice to normal, and that was when he warned me to stay away from Four Oaks.’ He paused and took a deep breath. ‘I’m certain it was not my father speaking, and I’m convinced he wasn’t actually talking to me.’

  Liam’s eyes widened as he understood perfectly to what Matthew was alluding, and he nearly dropped his mug in shock. ‘Oh my God,’ he gasped, ‘you think you’ve brought a spirit back home!’

  ‘I really don’t know what to think. I keep getting images of this place from long ago popping into my mind, not to mention the fact that I keep hearing a child’s voice in my head. Do you know of any girl who might have been murdered here?’

  Liam pursed his lips for a few moments as he thought hard, but finally shook his head. ‘As I said, I don’t really have a lot of local knowledge… only bits and pieces I’ve overheard through the years which were interesting enough to stay in my mind.’

  Matthew wanted to laugh. He found it incredible that anyone could spend their entire life in such a small village, and not only know few of the other inhabitants, but also possess such scant knowledge of the village’s history. ‘I thought she might perhaps have been one of that warlock’s victims?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know, Matthew. I’m sorry, I really am useless.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Matthew said with a reassuring smile. ‘I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. You can help me unlock the mysteries of this house, if you want to?’

  Liam smiled too. ‘I think I’d like that. How are we going to unlock these mysteries?’

  ‘Well, you can introduce me to people you actually know in Elendale. They might have enough local knowledge to piece together some of the mysteries. Plus, there might be documents hidden somewhere in the house itself.’

  ‘You mean like the deeds?’

  Matthew nodded. ‘Yes, the deeds, and perhaps letters and journals. Who knows?’ He stood up and pointed to the crest of Wicca Hill in the distance. ‘And then there’s that place. The Warlock’s cave. You say it’s supposed to be high up on the hill, facing this direction?’

  ‘Possibly. I don’t recall it’s exact location. All I know is it’s on Wicca Hill.’

  ‘Well, I’m absolutely convinced I saw a figure up there earlier, so it’s either a ghost from the past, or someone is staying in that cave.’

  ‘If they are, then they’re completely mad!’

  Matthew glanced at Liam. ‘Then they are completely mad, and tomorrow so will we be – because in the morning, you and I are going up there!’

  *

  After all the visitors had departed, and Phil had returned home having picked the children up from school, Louise took her husband quietly to one side and informed him of the day’s events.

  ‘You’re not convinced this Matthew Silverthorne is possessed by Sawyl, are you?’ Phil said when she had finished.

  Louise sighed. ‘I don’t know. He’s not the only person who’s appeared to be acting oddly of late, and I can think of someone with a less tenuous link to events of our past who has been behaving strangely.’

  ‘Glory?’

  Louise nodded. ‘I’d have thought Peter would have picked up on Sawyl’s spirit if that were the case, but who’s to say Peter is always with you?’

  ‘My dear, I have seldom left this place in the past twelve months,’ said Peter Neville, appearing unannounced through Phil once more. ‘I can assure you that, were your daughter under the influence of Sawyl Gwilym, then I would know. Trust me when I say she is not possessed by any wayward spirit.’

  ‘Hello, Peter, nice of you to drop in again,’ Louise muttered with slightly more sarcasm than she intended. ‘Are you positive about that?’

  ‘I am, my dear. There is no residual energy permeating your daughter’s aura. It is more difficult for an invasive spirit to hide within the body of a child. Children are too open and honest to make a suitable hiding place, especially as they enter puberty.’

  ‘All those raging hormones make it difficult for a spirit to gain control?’

  ‘That is indeed the case. Were Sawyl attempting to hide within Glory, he would be revealed constantly.’

  ‘I thought perhaps that was why Glory has been acting strangely, because her control over her own body kept slipping?’

  Peter shook his head. ‘No. Were she possessed by Sawyl, we would all most assuredly know it!’

  ‘So why has she been acting so strangely? Until recently she’s been a right little madam, and now all of a sudden she’s as sweet as apple pie, being helpful around the house and not arguing constantly.’

  ‘Perhaps you should do the mother-daughter talk?’ Phil suggested softly, as he reasserted control over his body. He was proud of the fact that even when Peter was in control, if he wanted to say something he had developed the mental strength to break through that control – although it did occur to him that perhaps Peter allowed him to speak. ‘Maybe there’s something going on in her life right now that she’d like to talk about, but can’t quite bring herself to raise the subject personally.’

  ‘Like what?’ demanded Louise frostily. ‘She’s fourteen! What could possibly be going on in her life that’s brought about such a radical change to her behaviour?’

  Phil arched an eyebrow. ‘Dear lord, Lou, can’t you remember what it was like to be a fourteen year old? Raging hormones and all that!’ He chuckled. ‘It wasn’t that long ago!’

  Louise’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, you think she’s discovered boys?’

  Phil smiled. ‘Darling, it was only a matter of time, and it would explain a few things. So… don’t you think it’s time to have that mother-daughter chat?’

  Louise nodded emphatically, half relieved to find a logical explanation that did not involve spiritual possession, yet half terrified to realise her daughter was blossoming into womanhood. Glory was no longer her little girl. ‘My God, when did she grow up?’ she pondered aloud. She faced Phil. ‘I’ll talk to her after dinner. But what about Matthew Silverthorne? Does Peter think the plan is a good one?’

  Phil relaxed and allowed Peter to come forward once again. ‘Indeed I believe it to be a most excellent idea. Sawyl shall not be able to hide from me this time.’

  ‘And what do we do if it’s not Sawyl?’

  ‘We wait. The warlock shall reveal himself in due course, but should
we catch him off guard then we stand a better chance of defeating his evil.’

  ‘Have you any idea how we’re going to do that? I mean, if chopping someone’s head off is the only way to prevent reincarnation, I’m not sure I want to be party to that – especially since it appears to have not worked on him on two separate occasions!’

  ‘I think we should try another method,’ Peter said. ‘The Seer shall know how we might defeat him. We must consult with Thaumaturgia Anathemas!’

  ‘I am not having that creature back in my body again!’ shrieked Louise. ‘I still have nightmares from the last time!’

  ‘Fear not, my dear. Here, Thaumaturgia requires no vessel through which to channel her energies. Here is where her power is grounded. She can do so much more here than she could do at Ravenscreag Hall.’

  ‘Because her lair is within the woods?’

  ‘Yes, in part, and because of the excess of ley lines hereabouts. But enough, I grow weakened by all this talk. I must conserve my strength.’

  Peter vanished once more, and normality resumed at Snowfield House.

  Tuesday

  October 29th

  Lucinda stood in the early morning gloom, shivering as the wind blew icy rain against her already numbed cheeks, unsure what had possessed her to return to Four Oaks.

  After sitting alone in her room at The Green Woman Inn for most of the previous evening, refusing her mother’s request for assistance in the bar, she had waited in the dark until long after everyone else had retired to bed and had then left silently via the side staff entrance.

  This time she travelled along the grass verge on one side of the narrow twisting lane, aware but unconcerned that any speeding night-time driver might easily kill her.

  Upon reaching the gates to Four Oaks, she stood on the grassy bank opposite and remained motionless, staring up at the house, her mind devoid of all thought. She had no idea why she was there, and when the rain started again in the early hours, drenching her within minutes, she longed for the dry warmth and comfort of her bed. Yet something prevented her from turning away, something stopped her moving from her vantage point. She could not will her legs into life. It was almost as though some external force took control of her body.

  As oddly disconcerting as it was, she remained curiously unafraid, as though some inner subconscious thought sought to comfort and reassure her.

  Soaked to the skin and chilled to the bone, she remained there, unmoving, until the first rays of the dawn crept over the horizon behind her, gradually illuminating the house up ahead. She watched transfixed as her shadow gradually elongated, stretching out across the lane and up the driveway, where it disappeared into lingering gloom.

  With the continued onslaught of the driving rain, she reasoned that she should not actually be outdoors, yet still something compelled her to remain where she stood, cold and wet.

  She became aware of a presence standing behind her, rustling in the shrubbery bordering the field. She frowned, and then smiled. ‘Ah, so there you are, at last,’ she uttered beneath her breath as a veil slipped away, revealing innermost hidden thoughts that were not her own.

  The spirit had awakened in her mind long ago, keeping to the shadows of her subconscious to maintain protection against discovery, emerging only when he had a task to perform, and only then when he felt it was safe to do so. Her innocence had protected him, but the time had come for him to make his move now all the pieces were in position. His patience rewarded, now he could strike back against she who had wronged him.

  He needed to assuage this girl’s fears first, though.

  I have been with thee for some time, my dear. I have been awaiting just the right time to make my presence known to thee.

  ‘And that time has arrived at last?’

  Indeed it has.

  ‘What do you want of me?’

  I require use of thy physical presence so I might complete my task.

  ‘What is your task?’

  That I cannot answer.

  ‘Cannot, or will not?’

  Thou must judge that for thyself.

  ‘But you want me to help you?’

  That be correct.

  ‘Okay, so tell me, who are you?’

  That I cannot answer.

  ‘So you want me to help in a task, but you cannot tell me what that task is, and you cannot tell me who you are? Well, be like that then, but don’t expect much cooperation from me if you’re not going to be more forthcoming.’

  Thou hast little choice my dear. I can control thy body at will. That be why thou art standing here in the rain. I can make life most unpleasant for thee shouldst thou resist me.

  ‘Well then, perhaps we can help each other out.’

  Explain thyself!

  ‘Well, clearly there is a connection between you and this house. I want to get closer to the man who lives here. Help me achieve that, and I’ll do anything you ask of me!’

  Deal!

  Having apparently concluded the conversation with the voice intruding in her mind, Lucinda turned her attention to the equally intrusive presence behind her.

  ‘You can come out now, Mr Revenant. I know you are hiding in the bushes.’

  Max dragged his bulk sheepishly from the hawthorn hedge, smoothing down his black suit, which was as immaculate as ever. ‘How did you know it was me?’

  Lucinda smiled benignly. ‘Well, you were lurking around here yesterday, so it was just a lucky guess.’ Her smile faltered slightly as she noticed Max was not even slightly damp. ‘It must be quite sheltered in that hedge.’

  ‘Yes, I guess you could say that,’ the rotund young man said with a knowing smile. ‘So what are you doing, loitering here at this time of the morning… and in the pouring rain?’ He pushed his hand through his black hair, and satisfied that every aspect of his appearance was immaculate, put his hands in his trouser pockets, adjusted his stance, and fixed Lucinda with an unnervingly unblinking stare of unabashed superiority.

  Lucinda was not about to be intimidated by him. ‘I might ask you the same question, Mister Revenant; after all, which of us was hiding in the bushes?’ she snapped.

  Max blinked once, but his demeanour did not falter. ‘I suppose that might appear a little odd. Well, if you must know, I am in love with Matthew Silverthorne, and have been ever since I first met him last year.’

  ‘He’s not interested in you though!’ snorted Lucinda, making no effort to hide her sarcasm. ‘How could anyone be interested in a fat, greasy lump like you?’

  Her barbed comments splattered across Max’s emotions like venom, yet he remained impassive. ‘He would show more interest in me than he would in you, my dear, and you know it. I love him from afar, knowing he won’t look at me twice, but you lust after him, believing you can turn him from his destiny. You will ultimately destroy your soul if you continue down this path, and I won’t allow you to take Matty with you!’

  Lucinda laughed hollowly. ‘Matty! My God, with just one word you make him sound like a child!’

  ‘Matty is a child, as well you know! Do not pursue this course of action that you have planned.’

  He doth know I be here! Thou must leave this place at once.

  Momentarily distracted by the sudden unannounced return of the voice in her mind, Lucinda lost her balance and staggered slightly. She recovered her composure rapidly. ‘Well, we’ll have to let Matty decide then, won’t we? I’m going to get some dry clothes, and then I’m coming back to speak with my brother. He is the one Matthew has ensnared… I must rescue him.’

  Realising she was waffling, Lucinda turned and started walking fast down the lane, She paused, intending to throw one final barbed comment in Max’s direction, but when she glanced over her shoulder, he was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Where’s he gone?’ she demanded. ‘He keeps disappearing.’

  The voice within her head did not respond. It was obviously information she did not need to know - or perhaps the presence in her mind did not know.


  Now there’s an interesting notion, she thought. Perhaps this spirit is not all knowing after all! I wish I knew who it is, and why I have been chosen as the vessel of communication.

  Her mind filled with thoughts, not all of them her own, Lucinda once more returned to The Green Woman Inn, barely managing to sneak past her parents, who were already up and cleaning the bar.

  *

  Matthew awoke with a startled gasp, sitting bolt upright in the strange bed, the thick blanket falling away to expose his naked chest. For a moment, he could not remember where he was, but then he recalled the events of the previous day, and knew he was in one of the bedrooms of Four Oaks.

  He had not expected to get anything that remotely resembled a decent night’s sleep, but as he sat there, feeling remarkably refreshed and invigorated, he realised he had slept completely undisturbed throughout the entire night.

  He could not help chuckling at the irony. That was something he seldom achieved at home, yet here, in a supposedly haunted house that had terrified him for some as yet still unknown reason, he had finally achieved something superior to a mere decent night’s sleep.

  A sudden rustling and snorting sound from the end of the bed made Matthew squeal, clutching the blankets to his bare chest. His heart thudded agonizingly against his chest wall, while his throat ached as he held his breath in anticipation, half expecting some horrible apparition to extend its presence upwards.

  There was another brief rustle from the floor, and then silence.

  Hardly daring to move, Matthew remained where he was for several long drawn out minutes that seemed to last an eternity, before his inner voice of reason told him quite sternly not to be such a big girl’s blouse.

  Moving as quietly as he could, he extricated himself from the tangle of bedclothes and crawled down the length of the bed, peering over the end – to find Liam, sprawled out on the floor, a pillow beneath his head, and a couple of blankets covering his body.