Just for a moment he looked taken aback but then he was smiling again, all honesty and directness. ‘Of course not. The ban, as you must know, is largely directed at the wild men of Gaul who plot and intrigue against the Emperor. They were given their chance to come into line but they refused. Here I gather the studies of your druid schools are directed towards peace and healing. Besides, this place is not part of the Empire yet.’
Mora gazed at him. Something was wrong; she could sense him veiling his mind from her as he studied her face with his wide eyes and his disingenuous expression.
‘You expect us to be a part of the Empire one day?’
He shrugged eloquently. ‘I think it likely. Why would a small group of isles on the edge of the world want to be independent of the Empire? We bring too many benefits to the peoples we rule. Wealth. Peace. Strength against the barbarian hoards.’
She gave a quiet laugh. ‘I fear we are the barbarian hoards.’ She turned to her herbs once more. ‘Since I have already delivered Petra’s medicine, Romanus, your journey was unnecessary, I’m sorry.’ She glanced up at the boy with a gentle smile.
He met her gaze anxiously, then glanced at Flavius, eager to help him. ‘My uncle wants to meet your student, Mora.’
‘Indeed.’ Her glance flashed back to Flavius. ‘Well, I’m afraid he is out of luck. My student is away on an errand on the mainland. I doubt if he will return for several days.’
Flavius drew his cloak around him as a cold breeze fingered its way through the woodland around her house. ‘I am sorry to hear that. It would have interested me to find out how far some of your students have come and why they chose this place. Perhaps I will have the chance to meet him another time.’
Mora inclined her head. She could sense danger here and she wasn’t sure why. Gaius was a friend. He and his wife were a part of the community. People liked and trusted them, but this man, Gaius’s brother, was a different matter. There was no transparency in his gaze. The wind blew again, a gentle cold warning, touching her cheek. The gods were whispering to her to beware.
Janet Cavendish showed Kier into the sitting room with a tight smile. ‘I’ll tell Ben you are here. He’s working on his sermon.’ She pulled the door closed behind her and made her way to Ben’s study. ‘The evil seducer is here,’ she whispered. ‘He’s rather good-looking.’
Ben stared at her blankly.
‘You know!’ she went on. ‘Abi Rutherford’s lovelorn swain. Whichever way you think of him he is here in the sitting room and he wants to see you.’
Ben stood up. ‘How did he know about me? Who gave him this address?’
Janet shrugged. ‘I didn’t hang around to cross question him. That’s your job. Shall I bring tea?’
Ben sighed. ‘You may as well.’
The fire had not been lit. The room was warm enough but without the companionable crackle of logs in the grate it seemed to lack life and Ben wondered briefly why Janet hadn’t brought the man straight into his study as she would most visitors. He held out his hand to his guest and gestured him to a chair, then he went over to the log basket. He reached for a fire lighter, piled up a few birch logs and felt in his pocket for a box of matches. ‘So, Mr Scott, how can I help you?’
‘I’ve come to talk about Abi.’ Kier sat back in his chair; outwardly at least he seemed relaxed and calm. ‘How is she?’
‘She is well.’ Ben sat down opposite him. In this room Janet had chosen a predominantly pale yellow design for the furnishings. The curtains were flowered with stylised primroses and soft ferns, the chairs a corded light mustard. It was a comfortable room, designed to reassure and uplift. ‘May I ask who told you she was in Somerset, Mr Scott? This information was supposed to have been kept confidential.’ Flames were licking greedily over the logs now. There were one or two sharp cracks as they grew hot.
Kier looked him straight in the eye. ‘Her father told me. Professor Rutherford is as concerned as I am that the Church is not behaving in a responsible and open manner. In fact, I think the bishop’s actions in this case have been grossly reprehensible. He has used some remote family connection to give him the excuse for meddling in affairs which don’t concern him at all.’
Ben sat back and crossed his legs casually as he surveyed the other man. Kier was dressed in smart brown cords with a rust-coloured sweater over an open-necked checked shirt. There was a silver chain round his neck; Ben could not see what hung from it. Probably a cross, he supposed, but outwardly nothing about the man’s appearance betrayed the fact that he was a clergyman.
Aware of Ben’s scrutiny, Kier lifted his hand restlessly and brushed his hair back from his forehead. Then he sat forward in the chair, his elbows on his knees. ‘I expect you have been given some kind of garbled fabrication of what happened between Abi and myself?’
‘I have heard Abi’s version of the story, certainly,’ Ben said carefully. ‘But what happened between you and Abi, Mr Scott, only concerns me in that it has affected Abi’s spiritual wellbeing. I am her advisor and her counsellor in her role as a priest, I am not a repairer of relationships. And as such, I am sure you understand, I am not at liberty to discuss anything about her with a third party.’
He saw a muscle tighten in Kier’s cheek. There was a temper there, tightly under control. He had noted that Kier had not asked him to call him by his Christian name. Odd that, but in a sense welcome in that it kept them at arm’s length from one another.
The door opened behind them and Janet appeared with a tray. ‘I thought you might like some tea, Mr Scott,’ she said with a smile. She laid the tray down on the table near him. ‘Shall I leave you to pour out, Ben?’
Ben nodded. ‘Please, my dear.’ He had not taken his eyes off Kier’s face. The man had not even acknowledged Janet’s presence. He hadn’t risen to his feet as good manners might have indicated. He didn’t speak to her or thank her for the tea. His eyes were fixed on Ben’s face in some kind of test of strength. He sensed Janet hesitate and he relented. ‘In fact, perhaps you could do it for us, Janet. That would be kind.’ The man would have to acknowledge her presence if she was handing him a cup of tea. Ben waited curiously to see what would happen.
Kier ignored the proffered cup and after a moment’s hesitation Janet set it on the side table next to him. ‘I’ll leave some sugar here, shall I, Mr Scott?’ Her voice was slightly louder than before. Ben could sense her irritation.
And at last he looked up at her and nodded. ‘Thank you, Mrs Cavendish. No sugar.’ She was dismissed.
Ben looked at his wife. He could see the angry flush on her cheeks as she gave him his own cup and then turned towards the door. If he was any judge of his wife’s psychology Abi had just won a useful ally.
‘Because of Abi’s wild accusations and her more than strange behaviour over the last weeks of her curacy in my parish, she has secured my suspension,’ Kier said slowly. ‘I don’t know if she told you anything about that in your role as her confessor?’
Ben shook his head. ‘As I just told you, Mr Scott, I can’t discuss anything that I may or may not have talked about with Abi.’
Kier stood up. ‘She has ruined my career.’ He took a deep breath and walked over to the window. On this side of the house the view was across the lawn. There was already a sprinkling of pale leaves under the walnut tree. ‘That in itself is enough to upset me, although I feel sure I will be cleared of any accusations she might have made and any actions I took towards her will be vindicated, but my primary concern, as of course is yours, is with Abi’s welfare. I think she’s in great danger.’
‘Please, sit down, Mr Scott,’ Ben said. He waited while Kier returned to his chair. ‘Can you tell me what sort of danger?’
‘She has a tendency to meddle with psychic phenomena as I am sure you are aware. I rather foolishly accused her of resorting to witchcraft.’ He gave a short harsh laugh. ‘I didn’t mean it literally, but the word frightened her enough for her to go running to the bishop to make another complaint against me. Women are very sensitive to accusations of witchcraft – I am sure you have come across this yourself. They find it deeply offensive. They think it is part of some male plot against them. They equate it with a criticism of feminism. What I witnessed though was something that filled me with horror and I didn’t know what else to call it. She summoned ghostly figures into my church and she appeared not only to condone their presence there but also to enjoy their company.’
Ben stared at him incredulously. ‘What do you mean, enjoy their company?’
‘She said they sang beautifully.’
‘That’s all? She heard them singing.’
‘Isn’t it enough?’
