Was such an outcome perhaps actually inevitable?
Even though she knew Elen would save the tribe in times of danger, Maud felt it her duty to prevent such necessity if possible. She decided she would lead Lucius away from the settlement, lead him towards one of the other recently ransacked settlements and kill him before he could betray them.
Like a sheep, Lucius followed without fear and without question as she backtracked and led him around the perimeter of the hill, until he realised she was leading him in the general direction he and his century had taken yesterday.
He whirled around on her, but instead of the fury she anticipated, Maud saw fear; raw, undiluted fear that was so blatant and honest that she realised he really had deserted his men. It altered nothing, though, as far as Maud was concerned.
‘You are taking me to my men,’ he cried in accusation. ‘They will kill me.’
Maud shook her head. ‘No, thy soldiers travelled south-east; I be taking thee round the western hill, beyond which dwells Elen.’
Lucius relaxed a little and fell into step beside her. ‘Tell me, what is this Green Goddess like?’
‘The Great Elen shall inspire awe within the hearts and minds of the most hardened battle-weary men,’ replied Maud softly.
As they passed by fallen boulders at the foot of the rock escarpment that dominated the immediate vicinity of the western hill, she saw half a dozen Roman soldiers approaching. She saw them before Lucius did, and dragged him behind one of the larger boulders, warning him to remain silent.
They crouched low as the foot soldiers came closer, and as they passed by, Lucius breathed as sigh of relief – and then gasped in shock as Maud leapt out from behind the boulder, tearfully appealing to the Romans for help.
‘Are you all right?’ asked one of the centurions as they turned to face her.
‘Please, let him not harm me! I barely escaped him; let him not take me again.’
‘Who, child?’
‘He doth hide behind the rocks.’
Two of the centurions grabbed Lucius before he could escape.
‘Well, well, Lucius! Vespassian himself has issued a warrant for your arrest for deserting our ranks.’
‘This girl was hiding from us yesterday,’ Lucius blustered desperately. ‘I came back in search of her and her kinfolk.’
‘There are others of her people still here?’
‘I have not seen them, but they are close by.’
Maud shook her head, wiping away forced tears. ‘I be alone. Thou hast slaughtered the remainder of my tribe. I be the sole survivor.’
One of the soldiers turned to another. ‘She must be from that settlement half a league yonder. Did I not tell you I saw someone escape? It must have been this girl.’
‘She knows where the Green Woman lives.’
The centurions laughed at Lucius. Such a wild claim could be met only with contempt, for they had no belief in such a creature. ‘Paganism is something we shall make certain is wiped out from these lands with the introduction of our own religion,’ said the clear leader as he snapped his fingers.
The two soldiers who held Lucius dragged him away, kicking and screaming, and the remaining four turned to face Maud. ‘Are you injured, child?’ the leader asked.
Filled with sudden dread as she saw the lust in their eyes, Maud backed away, shaking her head as she wondered whether she had made a terrible mistake.
‘Excellent,’ the leader grinned. He began unfastening his clothing as he approached.
Maud turned to run, but one of the other men grabbed her and threw her to the ground. She screamed, but he silenced her with a blow from a rock he picked up, and blackness engulfed her.
*
The autumn darkness fell by late afternoon, and still Maud had not returned from paying tribute to Elen.
Hrothgar stood at the boundary of the settlement, straining to see into the gloom, frantic with worry. Something must have happened to her. He knew he should have gone in search of her before dusk, but his toil in the fields took precedence over his anxiety until the onset of darkness.
There was little he could do save hope that nothing bad had befallen her, and pray that she was safe. He closed his eyes and offered a silent prayer to Elen that she would guide Maud safely back to the settlement.
Opening his eyes once more, he continued to peer into the gloom. He squinted. Had that been movement, almost beyond his field of vision?
He took a few steps beyond the settlement’s boundary, and emitted a howl of despair. He ran to the approaching figure as she staggered towards him, and she collapsed into his arms.
Maud was naked, clutching scraps of ripped clothing to her body in a vain attempt to conceal her nakedness. Her body was covered in bruises and scratches; blood flowed from a wound to her head, and even in the semi-darkness, Hrothgar could see the dried blood between her thighs.
‘Oh my poor child, who has done this to thee?’ he sobbed as he cradled her in his arms.
As Maud reached out to caress Hrothgar’s cheek, the clasp from a Roman centurion’s tunic fell from her trembling dirty hand. Blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth as she spluttered a single word and died in her father’s arms.
Lucius.
Hrothgar clutched her lifeless body to him, howling his anguish and fury as he rocked back and forth.
Several others of the tribe, upon hearing his cry, rushed from the settlement to see what had happened. All were appalled by Maud’s injuries.
Hrothgar lifted his daughter and handed her gently to one of the gathered men. ‘Make certain she be buried beside her mother.’
With those words, Hrothgar fled into the darkness.
*
He had known the Roman centurions would not be difficult to find. He had seen the direction they had taken yesterday, and the fact that one of their number named Lucius had returned and desecrated the temple of his daughter’s body meant they could not be camped far from the valley.
Less than an hour later, he found their encampment. The century that had passed through the valley seemed to have met up with several others; their encampment was expansive, and using stealth, guile and cunning, Hrothgar made his way past the guards without detection.
He drew his dagger from its sheath at his waist and thought about how best to find Lucius.
A lone centurion, staggering beneath the effects of too much wine, came towards his hiding place. Hrothgar crept out and grabbed the man from behind, a hand placed roughly against his mouth so he could not cry out in warning, then dragged the soldier into the shadows behind one of the tents.
‘Make any attempt to call for help or struggle against me, and I shall slit thy throat. Dost thou understand my words?’
The centurion nodded.
‘Tell me where I might find the one known as Lucius.’
Hrothgar cautiously withdrew his hand from the Roman’s mouth, who in a drunken slur told him in no uncertain terms that the deserter Lucius was imprisoned within the stockade at the far side of the encampment awaiting his punishment.
‘It shall be I who doth administer his punishment,’ Hrothgar whispered in the man’s ear as he slit his throat. He did not linger to gloat as the Roman gurgled with his last bloody breath.
Hrothgar moved swiftly and silently through the shadows, keeping close to the perimeter of the encampment and avoiding torch-lit areas, until he found the stockade.
There was a single occupant of the cage. He had to be Lucius.
Hrothgar approached the cage from behind, where the prisoner sat slumped against the bars. He reached through and grasped his hand firmly against the dozing man’s mouth, startling him into wakefulness.
‘Art thou Lucius?’ Hrothgar whispered in his ear. ‘Nod thy head if it be so.’
The prisoner nodded his head.
‘Know me now, Lucius, for I be Hrothgar, father to Maud. My daughter be dead, and she named thee her killer afore she drew her last breath. Thou did violate her body, and thou sh
alt pay with thine own life.’
He reached through the bars with his other hand and slit the throat of the prisoner with a flourish, and as Lucius collapsed, gurgling, coughing and clutching his throat, trying to stem the flow of blood even as the life flooded from his body, Hrothgar stood staring dispassionately down at him.
He made no attempt to move, no effort to escape as he was spotted by one of the guards, who shouted in alarm.
He did not struggle, nor feel the thrust of the sword as it plunged into his back.
He died, and as he died, he saw his daughter in the distance, shaking her head sadly. Even from here, he could hear her words.
‘Oh, Father, what have we done?’
2002
Margaret and Joyce gasped as the wood nymph vanished with Matthew, Roger and Lucinda. They glanced around, as though expecting them to reappear immediately, and when that did not happen, they grew concerned. When Elen had vanished and brought back Gloria Schofield, she was gone mere moments, but this time the seconds dragged into endless minutes, and it became all too apparent that she would not be returning with her company any time soon.
Still drifting effortlessly above their heads, the ethereal image of the Seer slowly descended as she sensed the growing unease beneath her.
Thou should be unafeared. Thy friends shall remain unharmed. Mother doth wish that they witness events of the past so they might better understand events of the present.
Only Louise seemed to have the courage to speak to the indeterminately sexed figure that glowed white, hovering a few feet off the ground. ‘Thaumaturgia, can you tell us what is going on?’
I cannot. It be not my place to interfere with Mother’s wishes. She shall explain all to ye upon her return.
‘That’s not really an acceptable answer,’ snapped Margaret as she found her voice. ‘That’s my husband and my son she’s taken with her.’
I can offer thee no further solace. Thou hast no other choice than to trust in me.
Margaret sighed, reluctant to acquiesce, but realising she had no choice. ‘Very well, but what about this son that Elen spoke of? Where is he?’
Maxim be about, somewhere. He doth seek the one known as Sawyl Gwilym.
‘Your father!’
Thaumaturgia faced Rachel. ‘Yes, my father he be, to my shame.’ Such was the Seer’s anguish that she spoke the words aloud instead of projecting them mentally. ‘I sense his presence; he be close.’
‘And yet you still don’t know who he’s hiding in?’
Thaumaturgia shook her head. ‘No, not until one of our kind do come face to face with his host body shall we know that. He doth prove himself a most powerful warlock. He hath no memory of his life in Avalon, but he doth remember all the secrets that fool Merlin did allow him to steal. He doth know how to conceal himself most effectively. Isabella and Peter Neville, having human fathers, possess not the power to detect him, but Maxim and I, having non-mortal parents, have such ability.’
‘So Sawyl is Maxim’s father, too?’
‘No, Maxim be a mere half-brother to me.’
Rachel did not hide her confusion. ‘So, who is his father?’
The sudden rumbling from the bowels of the earth prevented Thaumaturgia from responding, and in an upsurge of leaves, branches and roots from deep below ground, Elen reappeared in her tree-like state. Her branches unfurled, revealing her trio of unwilling guests, who stepped into the clearing ashen faced, while Elen transformed into her wood nymph guise once more.
Margaret rushed forward to hug her son, and smiled at Roger reassuringly. ‘You’re both all right, thank God. What happened?’
‘Elen took us far into the past,’ croaked Matthew through dry lips. ‘I’m not sure what the date was, but there were Romans there, and the locals lived in huts that reminded me somewhat of those recreated at Butser Hill.’
‘Iron Age,’ muttered Theo from his position at the edge of the clearing. He was overwhelmed with happiness at seeing Matthew return in one piece, but decided to remain out of the way for the moment.
‘Yes,’ replied Matthew with an abstract frown, ‘something like that. We were observers, but I know which of the people we were watching is the one who hides within me. I was a young girl called Maud. It was all my fault.’
Margaret held her son at arm’s length. ‘You mean it was all this girl’s fault, darling, not yours.’
‘I guess.’
‘What was all her fault?’ demanded Theo.
‘The hatred and the anger that causes Lucius to kill me… her… every new lifetime! Maud indirectly caused his death, and he strikes out in revenge each time they are reborn.’
‘I must bear some of the responsibility,’ said Hrothgar through Roger. ‘It was I who did misinterpret my daughter’s dying words. When she spoke the name Lucius, I did believe she meant her killer.’
‘I approached your daughter in peace,’ hissed Lucius through Lucinda. ‘She betrayed me to the very people from whom I fled.’
‘I be sorry.’ The quiet voice of a frightened little girl issued forth from Matthew’s lips as he cowered away from Lucinda, burying his head in Margaret’s breast. ‘I be so very sorry.’
Despite the bizarre circumstances, Margaret comforted Matthew, stroking his hair and kissing him tenderly. ‘It’s all right… Maud… it’ll all get sorted out.’ She turned to face Elen. ‘So, what the hell happened? I think it’s time you told us everything.’
Everyone started speaking at the same time, hosts and spirits agreeing with Margaret that it was time for the whole truth to be revealed, and Elen silenced the cacophony with a single swipe of her hands.
‘You will all be still and silent,’ she commanded, and everyone found they could do nothing but obey her will.
Elen told the gathered group what she had taken Matthew, Lucinda and Roger into the past to witness. ‘The spirit of Lucius, knowing himself to be innocent of any misdeeds, cannot let go his anger and resentment at being killed; he lingers on instead of passing into the light, hoping that one day both Maud and Hrothgar will be reborn at the same time so he might kill them both together.’
She faced Lucinda with a sad smile of regret. ‘Each time you have been reborn, Lucius, only Maud has been present, and each time you killed her, you were unaware of Hrothgar’s presence, invisible and silent, unable to interfere, able only to watch you exact your terrible revenge time after time. His anger towards you has increased to such a point that it outweighs even your own anger, Lucius, but now he has seen the truth and the cause of your anger, his has lessened.’
She touched Lucinda’s lips. ‘But has yours lessened, Lucius?’
‘A little… perhaps,’ said Lucius when he realised he had been granted permission to speak. ‘But two millennia of bitter fury does not disappear in a moment of revelation. Tell me, why did Maud betray me to my fellow Romans? If I know that, forgiveness might come a little easier.’
‘I am glad you say that, Lucius. Upon the release of his spirit when he died, I told Hrothgar that one day he would finally be reincarnated in physical form and that when that happened, his child would be Maud’s reincarnation, and that they would eventually encounter you together once more. He knows you must all embrace the day of reckoning if there is to be forward movement, that there must be forgiveness for both the misunderstanding and the repeated unnecessary deaths, and that the forgiveness must be unanimous or else everything you have gone through will be repeated for all eternity.’
Lucius nodded. ‘I shall consider it, but I must know why the child betrayed me.’
Elen reached across and touched Matthew’s lips. ‘Do you recall, Maud?’
Maud nodded. ‘Yes, oh Great Elen, I recall everything.’ Her voice was pitiful with regret and fear. ‘Please, make me not witness it all once more.’
‘You must, Maud. We must witness it together.’
‘Might Matthew cometh with us? I like him. He doth comfort me.’
Elen smiled. ‘What say you, Matthew Silv
erthorne? Are you a willing participant to the viewing of Maud’s vision first hand?’
‘If it helps finally sort out this sorry mess, then yes, I agree,’ said Matthew.
Elen glanced up at her daughter. ‘Thaumaturgia, it is time.’
She placed one hand upon Lucinda’s forehead and another on Matthew’s, and she closed her eyes. In unison, Lucinda and Matthew closed theirs.
Floating behind them, Thaumaturgia moved forward until her ethereal body blended with Elen’s, and she reached out and plunged her hands into Lucinda and Matthew’s heads.
The pair snapped open their eyes, their mouths gaping in a combined silent scream of agony as Thaumaturgia and Elen between them opened their minds, shared their gifts, and released Maud’s vision.
Maud’s Vision
She sits in the chair in the strange house, looking out through the window to the tree-lined hill in the distance. She recognises the hill now, even though it is greatly different from how she remembers it. In her own memory, the valley is not smothered in trees.
The crest of the hill has changed little, and she knows she is close to her settlement. Why did she not notice this before? She is seeing things more clearly and remembering everything that once was forgotten.
She blinks and remembers another time; here, with a man she knows to be her father yet is not the father she knew and loved.
She blinks again and remembers a further lifetime, when she had been betrothed – and murdered.
And now she is here, in the same place, in a different time. She cannot understand how she has come to be here, but knows now it is not Rome.
She feels different, not herself. Glancing down she sees her legs are clothed individually in a coarse blue material. She glances at her hands. They are well cared for and not rough, but they are definitely male.
She recalls the last time she witnessed this vision, and knows it to be the same, but she can see so much more.
‘How can that be?’ she says aloud.
It is because I am here to unveil the mysteries within your mind. You have now lived through most of these events, so you understand them more.
The Master of Prophecy (The Sawyl Gwilym Chronicles Book 2) Page 34