Child of the Phoenix

silent as they contemplated the earl’s fury if he should discover that his wife was unfaithful. ‘I think it would be a good thing if you could speak to her. Let her know she’s not alone. Tell her to be careful.’

Silence fell on the room again. Suddenly Morna wondered if Eleyne were listening. Her attention had been withdrawn; she seemed to be hearing something far away. Her eyes were fixed blankly on the far wall of the room. Morna studied her expression, puzzled. It wasn’t the first time she had seen that look on Eleyne’s face, that strange luminous quality which shone from her eyes.

Into the silence of the room came the distant sound of a horn, but Eleyne did not seem to hear it. She was half smiling, a thousand miles away.

Outside the rain fell in a heavy curtain; the sound of it filled the air and in the empty hearth a succession of stray raindrops hit the flags.

Morna pulled her shawl around her, then she gave a little cry of fright as a cold wind swept through the open window. A rolled parchment on the far end of the table fell to the floor. It was suddenly very dark.

Eleyne felt her heart pounding uncomfortably in her chest.

Go away. The words were unspoken, but it seemed to her that she had screamed them out loud.

‘Please, go away.’ This time the whisper was audible and Morna’s eyes became enormous.

‘Who are you talking to?’

But even as she spoke she knew.

The tall, broad-shouldered figure standing immediately behind Eleyne was so indistinct he was scarcely more than a shadow, but she could see him clearly enough to make out the flaming hair and the beard, and the intense expression as he looked down at the woman seated in front of him.

From the gatehouse came the sound of the watchman’s horn again, strangely muted by the rain. Neither woman heard it. Morna held her breath. The spirit, if that is what he was, seemed oblivious of her presence. His eyes were fixed on Eleyne as though trying to will her to turn round and face him.

Eleyne had not moved; she seemed frozen to the spot and her fists were clenched.

Morna reached out towards the flint and steel which lay on the empty table at the foot of the candlestick. As her hand inched towards them, her eyes were fixed on the figure behind Eleyne. He had leaned forward slightly now and put his hands on her shoulders, a touch so light she showed no sign of feeling it.

The flint was in her hand. Slowly Morna raised her fists and brought it down on the steel with a snap. The spark flew into the box of tinder and in a second a spiral of blue smoke was rising and a small clear flame showed itself in her cupped hands.

She glanced up.

The figure had gone.

Standing up, she put the flame to the candles, watching Eleyne’s face illuminated by the steadily growing circle of light.

‘He must love you very much,’ she said quietly.

Eleyne seemed to accept that Morna had seen him. ‘I am a lucky woman. To have had two men love me is a great honour, I suppose.’

‘Even though they are now rivals for you?’ Morna walked around the table and put her hand on Eleyne’s shoulder where the shadow hand had been. ‘To choose a dead man would be to deny life,’ she said softly.

‘I know.’ Stiffly Eleyne rose and walked to a coffer on the far side of the room. She brought out a small casket and found what she wanted. ‘I don’t know how this got here.’ She put the flashing jewel on the table. ‘I had hidden it in the chapel.’

Morna looked at it without touching it. ‘The phoenix.’

Eleyne picked it up by the chain and held it so that it swung in the candlelight. The bird’s ruby eyes and fiery feathers gleamed and rippled. ‘I have tried again and again to be rid of it, but always it returns. But if Donald is to come home it must go.’ For a long moment she stared at it, then she turned to Morna. ‘Come with me.’

The sentry on guard at the postern gate stared after the two women as they walked out into the wet night. Within seconds they were lost to sight. The steps which led down into the back den were steep and rough beneath their feet. In the total darkness, Eleyne felt her ankle turn and she gave a gasp of pain, but she forced herself to go on.

‘It’s only a few steps further. Here, where the burn goes over the waterfall, before it gets all marshy.’ She strained her eyes and gave a false laugh, strangely loud in the silence. ‘I must get them to cut back the scrub here. If ever we should be attacked, our enemies could come up the burn here and get too close to the walls.’

Morna, who could see in the dark as well as a cat, was following her, sure-footed. ‘Kildrummy will never be attacked. The very idea! Here, in the heartland of Mar?’

‘I had to entertain an enemy here, in the heartland of Mar, Morna,’ Eleyne reminded her sharply. ‘If Edward can come in peace, he can come in war.’

‘You think he will return?’ Morna could feel the hairs on the nape of her neck stirring.

‘Who knows?’ Eleyne’s voice was non-committal. ‘But if he ever did, I would be ready for him.’

‘Where are we going?’ Morna stopped to catch her breath.

‘Not much further. Here, look, see how the burn tumbles over the rocks?’ Eleyne had stopped on the edge of the water. Below, it disappeared into the darkness, falling into the bottom fo the shallow marshy gorge. At its foot the water was deep.

Eleyne stood for a moment looking down. She could see nothing. The sound of the water filled her ears. For a long time she did not move, forgetting completely her companion, who stood out of sight in the darkness near her. Then slowly she raised her hand. In it the jewelled pendant gleamed as though it had a light of its own.

Release me. Leave me for Donald.

The words were not spoken out loud, but they rang inside her head as she raised her arm and threw the phoenix as hard as she could out over the small waterfall. She smiled grimly to herself. ‘So. Water extinguishes the fire at last. My gift to the gods once more. I hope now they are satisfied.’

Around her the night was empty.

For a moment both women stood staring into the darkness, then with a shrug Eleyne turned back towards the castle.

They were soaked through by the time they had scrambled back up the track and regained the arched door in the wall. The guard opened it to Eleyne’s knock and they slipped through beneath the small portcullis, into the dark inner courtyard.

Several horses stood, riderless, near the entrance to the great hall which was open, spilling light on to the wet cobbles. Eleyne walked towards it, refusing to allow the slow-burning excitement inside her to surface. It might not be him. She had been disappointed so often in the last few days. But the phoenix had gone and with it the malign force which had kept Donald away. Her shoes squelched uncomfortably as she moved quickly towards the steps and began to climb them.

‘My lady, thank the Blessed Virgin.’ A face appeared in the doorway. ‘She’s here!’ The figure shouted over his shoulder. ‘The countess is here.’

‘What has happened? Who is it?’ Furious at her breathlessness, Eleyne forced herself almost to run up the steps, willing her stiff bones to move faster.

The far end of the great chamber was lit with a dozen candles and someone had stoked up the fire in one of the hearths despite the thundery warmth of the night.

She barely recognised him. It was fifteen months since she had seen him, and in that time he had changed out of all recognition. Her robust, handsome husband had become a living skeleton. He was seated, exhausted, near the fire as she came in, still wrapped in his wet riding cloak. His face was grey, his cheeks hollow, his eyes sunk deep in their sockets. Beside him stood Duncan. There was no sign of Sandy.

‘Mother of Christ! What has Edward done to you?’ Eleyne could not move, her dismay was so intense.

Donald smiled. With an effort he rose to his feet and, throwing off the cloak, he held out his arms to her.

‘Nel, my love, don’t look like that. They have done nothing. I was treated with great courtesy. I’ve not been well, that’s all. Edward’s own physicians attended me and now I’m better. Some good Scots beef and some of your magic strengthening potions and I shall be a new man.’

He folded her into his arms and they stood close for a few moments. Eleyne could feel the brittle thinness of his body as she clung to him, and the cold dryness of his wasted flesh. Desperately, she tried to warm it with some of