Nervously she looked at the fire. It smoked gently on its bed of ash.
‘Throw on some twigs. The pile is behind you, in the corner.’ He was like a man trying to train a child not to be afraid of a wild beast. ‘There, see how it takes the fuel from your hand. It’s an ordinary fire again. There’s nothing to fear. Now, for another lesson. Something less arduous.’
‘That was a lesson?’ Eleyne was still staring at the fire.
‘Oh yes, child. You have to learn to command the visions. They must never rule you. That way leads to madness. You must learn to be their mistress. Now, how would you like to learn about the birds?’
‘The birds?’ She looked up hopefully.
‘Legends about the birds; the omens of which they speak. The messages they bring us.’
‘The curlews were there, crying of death when the Romans came in my dream.’ She scrambled to her feet and went to the door. ‘Where do all the birds go in the rain?’
‘They find shelter when the weather is hard, but usually they go about their business. There’s an oil on their feathers which casts off the rain.’
Now that he was speaking quietly, she found her fear had left her. She listened eagerly as the morning progressed. By midday the rain had stopped and a fitful sunshine slid between the branches of the trees. They walked for a long time in the woods, and he pointed out bird after bird which she had failed to see, telling her their names and the messages their appearance foretold. The sun slowly dropped in the sky. Her stomach growled with hunger but he talked on, pausing now and then to fire questions at her to check she was still attentive.
Twice she begged him to stop so they could eat or drink. He refused. ‘You must learn to rule your body, princess. You do not run because it wants meat. You must tell it to wait.’
He knew exactly the moment when she began to grow light-headed and once more he took her to the hut and closed the door. He motioned her to sit again before the fire and once more he threw on a scoop of powder.
She put her hands over her eyes. ‘No more, I’m tired.’
‘Look.’ He leaned over and tore her fingers away from her face. ‘Look. Look into the fire.’
This time the picture was there, cold and clear. She stared at it in wonder. ‘I see people standing about waiting for something to happen; crowds of people. The sky is blue and the sun is still low in the east behind the hills near Aber. It must be dawn. They are talking – now they are shouting. Someone is coming. A man. I see a man and they are putting a noose around his neck. They are – no! No!’ Suddenly she was sobbing. She scrambled to her feet and pushed past him to the door. Scrabbling frantically at the sneck she pulled it open as, behind her, the acrid smoke cleared, and ran outside.
It was nearly dark and it took a few moments before her stinging eyes could make out the figure of Rhonwen waiting beneath the trees. The two horses were tethered behind her.
‘Take me home!’ She ran to Rhonwen and clung to her. ‘Take me home. Please.’
Rhonwen looked over her head at the darkened doorway. It was some time before Einion appeared. He seemed unmoved by the child’s tears. ‘She did well. Bring her to me again in three days.’
‘Who was it?’ Eleyne spun round. ‘Who did I see?’
He shrugged. ‘You did not hold the vision. That takes time to learn. Maybe when you come again we shall understand what you saw and read the warning, if there is one.’
‘No. I don’t want to see it again. It was horrible.’ She pulled her cloak around her with a shudder. ‘And I don’t want to come again.’
Einion smiled coldly. He turned back to the hut. ‘Bring her,’ he called over his shoulder, ‘in three days.’
VIII
‘NO!’ The next morning, having eaten and slept well, Eleyne’s courage had returned. ‘I will not go back, Rhonwen. I don’t want to go to him. What he’s doing is evil.’
‘It’s not evil!’ Rhonwen was shocked into temper. ‘Don’t ever say such a thing. And you will go, if I have to carry you!’
‘I won’t. I refuse.’ Eleyne’s eyes were as defiant as her own.
‘You will.’
‘I shall run away.’
‘Nonsense.’ Rhonwen forced herself to speak calmly. ‘Where can you go? I should find you anywhere on the island!’
‘Then I shall leave the island and go to papa. If I tell him what you made me do, he’ll put you in prison!’ Her fists clenched, Eleyne was close to tears. The events in Einion’s cell had frightened her badly. Under no circumstances was she going to return there, and instinctively she knew her father would be her ally in this. He had no idea, she was sure, that the stories and songs which Rhonwen had told her night after night since she was a baby were but a frame for a more sinister purpose. ‘I don’t want to learn from him, Rhonwen. I don’t, and I won’t. I’m going back to Aber. Now.’ She turned and ran from the room.
‘Eleyne!’ Rhonwen shouted after her. ‘Eleyne, stop! No boatman will take you without my orders. You cannot go. Don’t be so foolish!’
Eleyne raced across the great hall and out into the courtyard towards the stables.
‘Eleyne!’
She heard Rhonwen close behind her, but she did not stop. Hurtling into Cadi’s stall, she untied the pony’s halter and backed her out. She had just managed to leap on to the pony’s back when Rhonwen stormed into the stables. Nearly knocking her down, Eleyne kicked Cadi past her at a gallop, careering across the yard, scattering the manor servants as she fled out of the gates, down towards the shore.
There were no boats moored against the quayside in the harbour. Slowing Cadi, Eleyne bit her lip with frustration. Her pride would not permit her to go back. Rhonwen must not be allowed to win this quarrel.
She heard a shout behind her. Three riders were galloping after her, and glancing around she recognised Rhonwen’s head-dress. There were two men with her.
Digging her knees into Cadi’s sides, she put her at a gallop out of the small port and up the beach. There might be a fisherman mending his nets on the sands who would take her across the strait for a fee. She groped at her neck and was relieved to find her gold chain safely in place. That would no doubt buy her a trip to the ends of the earth if she should wish to go there.
There were no fishermen; as far as she could see round the ragged coastline the beaches were empty. The tide was midway, the water sparkling cheerfully in the light breeze.
The other, larger horses were gaining on her and she felt a surge of anger. Just because she was small they could force her to do what they wanted. It was unfair – unfair and wrong! She looked once more across the water towards the farther shore and the safety which was Aber. Almost without realising it, she began to steer Cadi with knees and halter towards the water. She had seen the Roman soldiers swim the strait. Why not Cadi? The tide was not too high, the water calm.
The pony’s hooves splashed in the bright clear ripples. In two strides the water was up to her fetlocks. In two more to her knees. Eleyne heard the cries behind her grow more urgent.
Her own feet were in the water now. It was bitterly cold and she caught her breath. She felt Cadi hesitate. ‘Come on, my darling. Courage. You can do it,’ she whispered, urging the pony on. ‘Come on. It’s not so far.’
As if understanding what her young mistress wanted, the pony began to swim.
CHAPTER THREE
I
