‘The child will have to be fostered away. The people will not approve of their queen giving birth to the child of a servant.’ Artgenos did not mince his words.
‘Vellocatus is no servant!’ Her eyes blazed with anger. ‘He is a freeman. His family were farmers -’
‘And not warriors.’ Artgenos nodded. ‘Do not hope to rear this child as a prince of the ruling family, Carta. You are pushing people’s tolerance beyond all bearing. You will bring disaster upon yourself and your family.’
‘Then I will make sure that this child, my son, is the son of a king!’ She stared him down defiantly. ‘Did you hear me, Artgenos? Vellocatus will be my husband and I shall make him king!’
‘No!’
‘Yes!’ She was almost spitting with anger that he should deny her what she wanted above all else. ‘And you and your priests shall marry us. That is my command.’
‘And it is a command I will not obey. The portents already spell disaster. The skies are full of black birds reeling in from the west. The ravens scream of blood and death. Last night the wolves howled all night in the forest. Can you not see what you are doing, Carta? Send Vellocatus away. Keep Him somewhere quietly for your pleasure. No one would grudge you that. But do not dare to try and rear this child as a prince. I repeat. You will bring death and destruction to this country.’
But she had not waited to hear the end of the sentence. She had turned in a swirl of skirts and cloaks and disappeared into the darkness outside, no doubt to find her lover yet again. Artgenos had frowned. He could smell the heat and musk on her. There would be no reasoning with her until this obsession had run its course.
In the township of Dun Righ they supported Cartimandua to a man, and it was here that Ban, the chief Druid of the township and senior Druid of the Setantii, under Artgenos and Culann, officiated at the rites of marriage and the legal processes that accompanied them, between Cartimandua of the Setantii and Vellocatus, formerly of the Carvetii. Her name meant Sleek Pony. His, Good Fighter. It had been given him by Venutios.
The ceremony heralded the outbreak of civil war and she sent another plea to Gaius for help.
Venutios attacked with a hand-picked army of warriors. The confederation of small tribes which had made up this the largest and strongest kingdom in the Pretannic Isles broke apart. Those who supported Cartimandua and believed in a peaceful relationship with Rome congregated around her in Elmet with the tacit support of the Votadini in the north. Those who supported Venutios, bent on removing Cartimandua as queen and pushing the Romans out of the island, rallied round Venutios at Dinas Dwr. His supporters far outnumbered hers.
Vellocatus reviewed the army of which he was now leader with a sinking heart. There would be no hope for them without the help she was so sure of from the south. No hope at all. The men had resented him from the start. A well-respected, brave and proven warrior at his king’s side, he was no king himself. Their allegiance was grudging. For Carta’s sake they would follow him, but for no other. The fact that she had declared him king at her side held no weight with their followers. Vellocatus, who was not of royal blood, could not be a king however much Cartimandua might wish it. And where were the Romans she promised? There had been no word.
She had written to Gaius, sent the letter by messenger, begging him to come. He had to pass the message on, of course. He couldn’t help on his own. The XX legion was in Wales, close enough to go to her aid but the governor sent instead to Lindum and the commander there sent an auxiliary cavalry unit to help. They fought Venutios. He couldn’t win against the experienced Roman army. Of course he couldn’t. He ran away.
Carta reclaimed the allegiance of her people as she knew she would. There had been a battle and a victory. They liked that. They celebrated. The Romans gave her even more gifts and money to reward the men who supported her. They were always generous, the Romans, to their client queen. Everyone was happy for the time being.
She wrote to Gaius and thanked him.
IV
Gordon was lying on his back at the foot of a small ravine at the edge of the wood. Someone had made an attempt to cover him with earth and then piled branches over him.
Steve stood staring down, a dog on either side of him, his eyes full of tears. It looked as though his father had slipped. The edge of the bank had fallen away and the bushes had been crushed and torn as he had crashed down into the undergrowth. Whoever had found him had made no attempt to go for help. They had gone to great pains to cover his body.
Peggy.
In sudden revulsion and shock Steve turned away and vomited into the nettles, then, sitting down on a fallen log, he put his head in his hands. He was shaking violently, tears pouring down his face.
‘Steve?’ For a moment he thought the voice was in his head, but he saw the dogs leap up and go to greet her and he turned. Peggy was standing a few feet away.
‘I knew they’d find him. That’s why I wanted them to stay at Dave’s.’ She was matter-of-fact.
‘What happened?’ He could hardly speak.
‘We were arguing. He slipped and fell.’
‘And you didn’t get help?’
She shrugged. ‘There was no point. He was dead.’
‘So you don’t just leave him there, Ma. You go for help! You bring him home!’ Steve stood up. He was staring at her with blind incredulity.
She sighed. ‘It was his fault, Steve. He was going to destroy the well. You do see, he couldn’t be allowed to do that.’
Steve froze. ‘You did it on purpose? You killed him?’
‘No. He fell.’
‘But you didn’t bring help.’
She shook her head. ‘He would have desecrated it. I couldn’t let him do that. I left it to the goddess.’ She pursed her lips.
‘He was still alive? You left him to die?’
She nodded. ‘When I went back, he’d gone. He would have died anyway, Steve. He was too badly hurt. I couldn’t have saved him. No one could.’
‘An air ambulance might have. First aid might have!’ Steve clenched his fists. ‘So, were you going to leave him here forever?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. It’s what he would have wanted. To be on the farm.’ She sounded completely detached.
‘Picked clean by birds and foxes, I suppose!’ Steve was beside himself. He scrambled to his feet. ‘I’m going to ring the police!’
‘No, Steve. You can’t!’
‘I can. I can’t leave it like this.’ He was sobbing out loud. ‘Even if we say it was an accident - but how can we? No normal person would leave someone - their husband - to rot in the fields!’ He turned and began to climb up the bank.
‘Steve!’ His mother reached out, clutching at him as he pushed past her. ‘Steve! You can’t tell anyone!’
‘I can. And I will.’ He was already walking blindly across the field. The two dogs turned and with a glance back at the ravine where their master lay, followed him.
V
‘Steve? What on earth’s the matter?’ Pat threw down her cigarette as Steve ran towards her. She had been sitting in the garden, deep in thought.
‘My dad’s dead.’ Steve stopped. His face was ravaged with grief. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. ‘Down there, in the ravine. He fell.’
‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. Oh, Steve, how awful.’ She leaped to her feet, numb with shock, reaching for his hand in an instinctive gesture of comfort.
They both turned at a shout from the orchard behind them. Peggy was hurrying after him. ‘Steve, wait!’
‘She killed him! She killed my dad!’ Steve shouted wildly, snatching his hand away. He pointed at his mother.
Pat stared from one to the other in horror as he rushed on. ‘I’m calling the police!’ He ran to the house and went in through the kitchen door.
Peggy shook her head. She was panting hard as she ran after him. ‘He doesn’t understand.’ She caught Pat’s arm. ‘Tell him! Tell him I had to do it. For the goddess!�
��
Steve had gone straight to the phone.
‘No!’ Peggy rushed after him. Wrenching it out of his hand, she pulled the cord out of the wall. ‘No, you can’t ring the police. Steve! Please! Don’t be so stupid!’
Steve pushed her aside and headed to the front door. ‘If I can’t phone, then I’ll go and fetch them.’ Grabbing his car keys off the hall table, he disappeared outside.
Seconds later they heard the sound of a car engine. Peggy thumped her fist down on the table. ‘Stupid! So stupid! He doesn’t understand! Why didn’t you stop him?’
‘Peggy, I don’t know what’s going on.’ Pat was immobile with shock.
‘You do. Medb knows. Medb knows everything.’ Peggy narrowed her eyes and suddenly she smiled. ‘We need Medb now. She is a powerful woman; a Druidess. Trained in the arts. She can help me. Where is she? I need Medb!’ She reached over and put her hand on Pat’s forehead. Her fingers were ice cold.
Pat shrank back. ‘Don’t touch me!’
‘Just relax, sweetheart, and let Medb in. I’ve told you before not to fight her. Let her come.’ She was pushing Pat towards the wall. ‘I can see her. She is there all over you. She knows I want her here.’
‘Peggy -!’ Pat was paralysed with horror.
‘I need her.’ Peggy didn’t move. ‘I need that brooch and I need that power.’
‘Steve!’ Suddenly Pat was screaming. Desperately she pushed at Peggy, her hands flat against the woman’s chest. ‘Viv! Where are you? Help me!’
There was no reply.
Medb was smiling.
The brooch was almost in sight.
VI
Shaking hands with James Oakley, Meryn stood for a second on the threshold of the cottage, then with a slight nod of satisfaction followed him inside. It felt good. Safe. Hugh was waiting in the snug and greeted Meryn with a handshake and a slap on the back. ‘Am I glad to see you! I don’t know why I ran. I’m sorry.’
Meryn scrutinised him briefly. ‘I doubt if you had control of your actions.’ The three men seated themselves in the three armchairs around the fire, then Meryn turned to James. ‘There is a matter of protocol here, I feel. A clergyman could deal with these matters, surely.’
‘I’m not sure I could,’ James put in hastily. ‘This would seem to be way beyond my competence. That’s why I rang you. Quite apart from the fact that, should it be necessary, an old codger like me can’t get upto the fort any more owing to my arthritis.’ He liked the look of this man; he exuded warmth and humanity and a reassuring sense of calm confidence. ‘I’ll cheer from the sidelines, whatever needs to be done.’
Meryn smiled, his facing creasing into deep lines as he did so. ‘I am sure I shall be very glad of your support. Venutios is a powerful adversary; and if he combines his efforts with Medb of the White Hands, it will probably take both of us to defeat them. This is a battle for people’s souls. Something of which you have experience, I suspect.’
Hugh swallowed. He stared from one man to the other, trying to feel reassured and aware only of a deepening sense of panic. ‘Wouldn’t it be better if I just went away?’
Meryn shook his head. ‘They would follow you, my friend. This has to be sorted out, once and for all.’
‘And the brooch?’
‘Is being used as a focus and a power source to fuel an ancient quarrel. It needs to be cleansed of the curses and charms and bitterness which have impregnated it. Where is it now?’
‘Viv hid it somewhere up there.’ Hugh nodded towards the window and all three men turned to stare up at the hill. From this far away they could see no sign of life upon the distant plateau which was once more bathed in sunshine, wisps of mist still clinging around some of the steeper ramparts. ‘I don’t dare go near her, Meryn,’ Hugh said suddenly. ‘I’m afraid of what he’ll make me do.’
Meryn studied him. ‘In the story, in your head, they are at war?’
Hugh nodded. ‘And once the war started, there was - is - no going back.’ He frowned.
Meryn stood up. ‘I think we should go and see Cartimandua.’
Hugh blanched. ‘We can’t.’
‘I shall be with you. Neither you nor Venutios are going to do anything with me there. And James, if he would accompany us.’
‘No.’ Hugh stood up agitatedly. ‘No, I really don’t want to. You two go, but not me. I’ve been thinking about this. I did go back to see her and thank God she wasn’t there because Venutios is too strong for me!’ Both men were watching him in silence. He paused, glancing from one to the other. ‘You can see him, can’t you! Shit!’ He slammed his fist down on the table next to him. ‘I will not risk hurting Viv! You have no idea how strong he is!’
Meryn and James stared after him as he strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. In the silence that followed they heard his footsteps retreating up the stairs.
Meryn stood up. ‘He is being forced to believe in the possession, but he still can’t bring himself to believe there is a remedy.’ He sighed. ‘Poor Hugh.’
‘What do we do?’ James took off his spectacles and cleaned them anxiously.
‘How far away is our Cartimandua?’
‘Not far. A few miles.’
‘Then maybe we should go there and assess the situation.’ Meryn glanced up at the ceiling. ‘My only hope is that Hugh stays put. We don’t want him rampaging round the countryside without us.’
35
I
The farmhouse was silent as Viv walked down the stairs. She had no intention of looking for Pat or Peggy. They could draw their own conclusions about her departure. Pulling open the front door silently she carried her bag out to the car. There was one more thing to do before she could leave and that was to go and collect the brooch. Pushing the boot shut as silently as she could, she glanced over her shoulder. There was still no sign of anyone. Steve’s car had gone.
Slipping out of the gate she carefully latched it behind her, then she hurried up the track.
For a long time she stood on the edge of the vast pavement of limestone looking out across the strange, lunar landscape, trying to orientate herself. There were several stunted thorns and junipers growing out of the stone, any one of which could have been the one she had thought so memorable. She turned round and round, feeling herself growing increasingly panicky, then walked towards one small tree and kneeling beside it, stared round, trying to locate a fissure where she might have pushed the box amongst the clusters of stonecrop. There was nothing there.
Scrambling to her feet, she moved a few yards on and tried again. The sun was beating down on her back and she could smell the honey scent of meadowsweet. Somewhere high up in the distance she heard the mew of a buzzard and staring up, she saw the tiny black speck circling against the intense blue of the sky.
‘I thought I’d find you here.’ Hugh’s voice took her completely by surprise. She swung round in fright. ‘So, this is where you hid the brooch.’
She stared at him, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions as fear and longing swept over her. ‘Hugh?’
‘This time I did follow you. I couldn’t wait around while everyone else was out trying to sort out the vagaries of history! I saw you from right up there.’ He pointed behind him. ‘I could see you searching.’
‘I can’t find it.’ She shook her head.
His eyes narrowed suspiciously, then abruptly he threw back his head and laughed. ‘That, of all things, would be the final irony.’
‘And no one would believe me.’
‘No. They wouldn’t.’
‘Venutios?’
He grinned. ‘I’m fighting him, Viv. Believe me, I’m fighting him. And I have allies. Meryn - I told you about him? My Druid friend - and James Oakley the local parson.’
Just for a second she felt her face twitch with amusement. ‘A Druid and a parson?’
‘I know. My street cred is all shot to pieces But this is their sort of thing. They’ve gone to the farm to look for you. I didn’t want to go with
them. I didn’t dare. I was going to stay indoors, but I couldn’t. I had to know what was happening!’ His smile vanished suddenly. Something like pain flashed across his features. ‘Did you hear that? Oh God! I should have turned back when I saw you. I should have gone back to the car and locked myself in!’
‘What is it?’
‘Hell and damnation! I can’t cope with this! Not on my own. He wants the brooch back.’
‘I can’t find it, I told you! I can’t give it to you.’ His face had changed. She could see it - the mask overlaying his features. Terrified, she stepped back. ‘Hugh?’
‘Get away from me, Viv. Run!’ Hugh was suddenly sweating. ‘I can’t fight him! I don’t want to hurt you. I couldn’t bear that! I love you, Viv, but he wants to kill Cartimandua!’ His voice broke. ‘Get away from me now!’
She stared at him in complete horror. ‘Hugh?’
‘Now!’ He was gasping, his hands to his head. ‘Can’t you hear it? The carnyx! The beat of the drum! He’s coming!’
And finally she registered what he was saying. She spun round in panic. Dodging past him she leaped across a crack in the rocks and headed down the hillside, jumping over stones onto the grass, dodging the larger outcrops, slipping and sliding on the loose scree.
Wiping the sweat away from his face with his forearm, Hugh shook his head desperately. He could sense Venutios’s anger as the messengers cowered before him; feel every second of his helpless fury as they had told him how Cartimandua, his wife, had married Vellocatus! She had turned her back on him. She had married his shield bearer and his servant.
With a bellow of rage he had turned and hit the wall with his fists.
In the name of the great gods, Camulos and Lugh, he would be avenged! He would kill every man who fought for her and he would tear Vellocatus limb from limb if it was the last thing he did in this world. And then he would kill her.
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