XV
They had an escort of ten men. Elizabeth had forbidden any of her ladies to accompany them. Eleyne looked up at the sky as her groom brought her horse, and she shook her head. However much she hated the litter, she knew she could not ride.
The clouds were high and wild, though on the ground the air was still. Wind would come later, and with it rain. She could smell the cold and salt from the distant sea. She pulled her cloak more closely around her as one of her attendants came to help her awkwardly on to the cushions and she felt the baby move resentfully.
They travelled very slowly, leaving the track almost immediately and heading across the rough, slowly rising ground. Eleyne’s litter was at the front of the riders, Ancret and Lyulf close beside her, a deeply disapproving Sir Duncan Comyn riding at her side. He had insisted on accompanying them and had hand-picked their escort.
Eleyne’s back ached and she was very tired. Every now and then she called a halt, peering around to orientate herself to the unaccustomed view from the litter.
At one of the halts Duncan turned in his saddle. ‘Do you think we should check to see if she is all right?’
Wearily Eleyne nodded, glad of the rest. She waited, slumped uncomfortably on the cushions, whilst he rode back. Above the rising wind she heard Elizabeth’s harsh voice demanding to know why the devil they had stopped, and even more clearly, as he rode back towards her, she heard Sir Duncan’s muttered imprecation that his cousin was a selfish vicious old harridan and deserved to roast in hell. She smiled. It was reassuring to know that she was not without allies on this journey.
They found the spring in the end and she climbed wearily out of the litter, gratefully allowing Sir Duncan to help her into the stone chapel and settle her on the long low ledge which had served the hermit all those years before both as seat and bed. He called his men to build a fire in the ring of blackened stones which had obviously formed the hearth over the centuries. Only then did he leave her to help Elizabeth from her litter.
The spring bubbled gently from beneath an overhang of rock, filling a shallow pool rimmed by smooth stones which had been used since time immemorial as a resting-place for people’s offerings. Coloured bits of rag, stones and coins lay in the glistening spray, protected by small curling ferns, brilliant green in the late afternoon sun.
‘Now, I want you to leave my daughter-in-law and me here. Take all your men. I want no one left here with us.’ Elizabeth’s grating voice was still strong as Sir Duncan helped her from the litter. ‘You may return tomorrow at noon.’
‘My lady, we can’t leave you!’ Sir Duncan was horrified.
‘Why not? No one will harm us here. We have my daughter-in-law’s great dogs to protect us. Build up the fire and leave enough wood to keep us warm and unpack the food and bring me all the rugs and towels from the litter. Then go. I have no intention of bathing with a dozen men ogling through the bracken.’
Sir Duncan appealed to Eleyne. ‘My lady -?’
‘Do as I say!’ Elizabeth cut in sharply. ‘I have to be alone and I have to bathe in the moonlight. It’s part of the cure. She can stay and seek her own blessing from the water, but no one else. No one at all.’ She staggered slightly, her hand to her breast. ‘Go now.’
Eleyne closed her eyes in despair, wishing fervently that she hadn’t come. The wild look in her mother-in-law’s eyes frightened her. ‘Surely, if Sir Duncan and his men wait out of sight,’ she said, ‘that will be good enough. Then they can take us back.’
‘No!’ Elizabeth cried in a frenzy. ‘They have to go. I have to wait for the moon. It’s my only chance. My only chance,’ she repeated through gritted teeth.
‘You had better do as she says,’ Eleyne said softly to Sir Duncan. She glanced at Elizabeth. ‘The Blessed Virgin and St Bride will protect us.’ And so will the old gods who watch here, she added to herself silently. Whose power is still strong in these hills; whose watch over the sacred springs has never lessened.
With one final anxious glance at Eleyne, Sir Duncan did as he was bid. The rugs and towels were piled in the chapel, the fire built up and a neat stack of firewood fetched from the copse at the foot of the rocks; dried rowan and pine and birch and even sharp, prickly thorn were heaped in the corner, then the escort left and they were alone.
Eleyne and Elizabeth watched as the horsemen rode down the hillside, then Elizabeth turned to her. ‘We’ll eat while we wait for the moon to rise,’ she said.
The two women sat before the fire in the deserted chapel as the dusk, coming in from the east, threw purple shadows across the glens. The light was dying fast. Through the open door, Eleyne looked up at the sky. It had turned to an opalescent aquamarine, remote and cold, streaked with carmine cloud. Between the mountains the shadows grew black and soft, folded in secrecy. From somewhere far away there was the howl of a wolf. Eleyne saw her dogs’ ears flatten. The hackles on their necks had risen, but neither animal moved from its watch by the door.
‘You’re afraid.’ Elizabeth’s mocking voice was loud in the silence.
Eleyne clenched her fists. ‘I’m afraid for you. Supposing you were taken ill – ’
‘I won’t be taken ill. I’ve come here to be cured and as soon as the moon has risen, I shall bathe in the pool.’ Elizabeth shivered suddenly. ‘Throw some more wood on the fire and put the towels to warm.’ She made no effort to move as Eleyne heaved herself awkwardly to her feet and did as she was bid. Her back was aching so much, she could barely move as she threw some branches on to the fire. For a moment she hesitated, staring down into the flames, seeing them beckon, then she forced herself to look away. Wearily she reached for the towels and spread them across the stone ledge.
‘It’s nearly dark.’ Elizabeth sat forward. ‘The moon will be up soon.’
‘I’ll go and see.’ Eleyne went slowly out into the wind. It was cold outside. The red was nearly gone from the west. Cloud, shredded and black, streamed across the darkening sky. In the east she could see the glow of the rising moon behind the hills. In a few moments its silver rim would float clear of the clouds. The water behind her was black as velvet, bubbling quietly from the deep centre of the mountain.
‘Is it time?’ Elizabeth’s husky voice behind her made her jump.
‘The moon is nearly up.’ Eleyne turned. She caught her breath in surprise. Elizabeth had removed her gown. Dressed only in a white shift beneath her cloak she was like an apparition in the darkness as the silver moonlight slowly spread across the mountainside.
Kicking off her shoes, Elizabeth began to walk, slowly and with laboured breath, towards the smooth flat rocks. Eleyne followed her, taking her arm as the woman stumbled. ‘You can’t mean to bathe completely. It’s ice cold!’ she protested.
‘Hold my cloak. It’ll serve to warm me when I come out.’ Elizabeth groped with the fastening at her throat.
‘Splash yourself. That will be enough.’ Eleyne tried to hold her back. ‘Here, let me get some water for you – ’
‘Leave me!’ Elizabeth’s voice rose sharply. She pushed Eleyne away and took the last few steps to the edge of the pool.
Moonlight flooded the dark water as the heavy strips of cloud scudded west, and Elizabeth paused, catching her breath as the pool turned silver. Cautiously she stepped into the shallow rock basin. The icy water clung to her shift, soaking her ankles then, as she took another step, her knees. She could hear her heart beating; her head was full of the sound. The moonlight filled her eyes. Slowly she raised her arms towards the sky.
On the bank Eleyne watched, a dog on each side of her. She saw Elizabeth move cautiously to the centre of the pool and she saw her raise her hands towards the moon. She smiled ruefully. So this woman too, descendant as she was of the ancient Celtic line of the Earls of Buchan, remembered earlier gods. Eleyne shivered, huddled in her cloak as the wind freshened across the mountainside, wincing as the child in her belly moved sharply, as if sensing her unease. Preoccupied with her thoughts of the impatient life within her, it was a moment before she saw that Elizabeth had fallen to her knees in the pool. She took a step nearer, peering into the moonlit dazzle from the water.
‘Help me!’
She barely heard Elizabeth’s call over the trickle of the spring. Dropping the woman’s cloak she ran to the edge of the pool. Elizabeth had slumped forward in the water, her arms flailing, her face contorted with pain.
Sabina got there first, bounding into the water with a fearful splash, dragging at the woman’s gown. Eleyne
