‘He’s a boy, lady Lydia,’ Rhiannon said quietly. ‘To him the man is exciting. Exotic.’
‘And I am someone whose orders can be ignored,’ Lydia murmured to herself as she turned away again and began to move back towards the house.
Sorcha picked up her jug and made to follow her. ‘Let me know if you hear anything,’ she whispered under her breath.
Rhiannon nodded. ‘I’ll ask the men when they come in. Someone will know something. The lord Flavius is not someone you see and instantly forget.’
‘Though he would have it so,’ Sorcha said wisely. ‘He seeks to creep around and listen and watch, spying on everyone and plotting against the family. The lady Lydia is right. He is not one to be trusted. I would not like my son to choose him as a hero to worship.’
Both young women swung round as a group of men appeared at the gate. Laughter rang out in the misty air as they jostled into the yard and began to stack hoes and rakes and mattocks in a corner of the byre. Rhiannon called out and they came over. They all knew Flavius had offered rewards to people who could give him information about Mora; none of them knew that someone had accepted his bribe and sent him on a quest into the hills.
The men looked at one another uncomfortably. ‘Was it wrong to listen to him?’ one of them ventured. He looked guilty.
Rhiannon shook her head. ‘We are only worried because young Romanus went with him and no-one knows where they are. They should have been back by now.’ She looked across at Lydia and shrugged. ‘All you can do is wait, my lady. He’ll be all right. Romanus is a resourceful young chap.’ She smiled reassuringly.
Back inside after a quick glance at her daughter who was sleeping fitfully, huddled under the covers, Lydia sat down by the fire, wrapped in her cloak against the evening chill. If only Gaius were there, but yet again he had made the long ride north towards the coast to meet up with the last batch of traders of the season. It had been a wet summer; the rivers had flooded, the summer-lands had never properly dried and now once again the meres and lakes were filling and spilling over one into another to make wider and wider lakes across the levels to the west. Mora said the wise men in the druid school were predicting a stormy autumn and a cold winter. Gaius had been reluctant to leave her, but there would be no more overseas trade after this until the spring. She shivered. It was imperative that Flavius leave too on the last boats. The gods forefend that he be trapped with them for the winter. She glanced up as Sorcha followed her inside. ‘Petra is asleep.’
‘Perhaps Mora will come back with them. She often senses when Petra needs her help.’
Lydia nodded miserably. She was full of misgivings about Flavius’s intentions towards the young woman. What if he hurts her? What if he hurts Romanus?
12
Abi jerked awake with a shiver. Had she dozed off, there on her knees in the church? The place was in total darkness; she looked round nervously. She had been dreaming about Petra, here in church, just a brief glimpse of the girl with her poor swollen hands huddling into her bed to keep warm as the wind rose, stirring the fire, blowing wisps of smoke around the interior of the house. Lydia too was worried. There was no news. No word from Mora.
‘Mora?’ Rising to her feet, Abi called the name out loud. ‘Mora? What happened?’ She made her way back down the aisle and fumbled for the door latch, pulling the door open. It was full dark now and she had no torch. She walked outside, closing the door behind her and stood for a moment staring round. There was still a faint glow of light in the west, but above her now the stars were appearing, bright in the clear night sky. In the distance she heard a bark, then again, closer. The dogs were back, which meant so were Cal and Mat. With a smile she turned towards the lych-gate. Before she was halfway there the two dogs had found her and leaped up in greeting.
It wasn’t until after they had eaten supper and were sitting round the fire nursing their coffee that Abi mentioned Kier’s visit that morning.
‘He let himself in through the conservatory. If Justin hadn’t still been here I don’t know what I would have done – ’ She broke off mid-sentence, wishing she could bite off her tongue as she saw Cal’s look of anguish.
‘He only came to borrow some books, Mat,’ Cal said quickly.
Abi saw the fury on Mat’s face in astonishment. ‘You didn’t think to mention the fact that he had been here?’ He was addressing his wife.
She shook her head. ‘Why? When I know how much it upsets you.’
‘You know I have forbidden him to come anywhere near the house!’
‘It’s as much his house as yours, Mat,’ Cal said quietly. ‘Your grandfather left it to the three of you equally.’
‘And he chose not to take up his share. This is my home and I will not have him set foot under my roof!’ Mat stood up. ‘Has he been here before?’
‘You know he has.’
‘I mean recently. Tell me, Cal!’ They seemed to have forgotten that Abi was there. Thiz came and sat beside her uneasily, leaning against her legs and she lowered her hand to fondle the dog’s ears. She glanced down. Her hands were warming up. Instinctively she was seeking out the animal’s aching shoulders where arthritis was beginning to make its mark. She let her hand rest where it was for a moment with a small silent prayer. No-one noticed save the dog, who looked up at her with a small moan of pleasure.
‘He’s been here once or twice. He’s never stayed for more than a few minutes. He takes one or two books, and he’s always brought them back.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Mat turned away, his voice suddenly quiet.
‘You know why, Mat. Because I don’t want scenes like this. He’s every right to come here. You know that as well as I do. He does no harm. He touches nothing except the books. And they are as good as his. You know your grandfather meant them for him.’
‘And what does he do with them?’
Cal shook her head. She went over to her husband and kissed his cheek tenderly. ‘He reads them, you ninny.’
There was a moment of silence, then Mat shook her off and headed for the door. Banging it behind him they heard his steps running up the stairs.
‘Sorry,’ Cal said after a few seconds. ‘You didn’t need to see all that.’
‘It was my fault,’ Abi said sorrowfully. ‘It’s me that should be sorry. I knew you didn’t want me to mention him. It just came out.’
‘Mat’s not rational when it comes to Justin. I don’t suppose he ever will be now. It goes back a long way. Forget it happened. We’ll all be back to normal tomorrow morning.’
‘What does Justin do, Cal?’ Abi asked. Withdrawing her hand from the dog’s back, she picked up her coffee mug again.
Cal hesitated. ‘He writes books. He’s a historian.’
Abi smiled tentatively. ‘That doesn’t sound so bad.’
‘No.’ Cal sounded bleak.
‘Does he live near here?’
Cal shrugged. ‘I don’t know where he lives, Abi. He’s never told us.’
Abi knelt for a long time in prayer that night when at last she went upstairs. A hazy moon was hanging low in the sky as she stood up at last and went over to look out of the window. The garden was misty; she could make out little detail beyond the dim silhouettes of the trees. Somewhere an owl called, a sharp urgent shattering of the silence, answered from a long way away by a wavering hoot. She pushed open the casement and leaned out on her elbows. It was cold outside and smelled of dead leaves and wet earth. The smoke from the house chimneys wreathed around the rooftops, wafting the incense of burning oak and apple into the air. ‘Was it you, up there in the hills?’ she whispered again. ‘Were you here? Did you know Mora?’
There was no answer. Turning away from the window at last she pulled it shut and went over to the drawer where she kept the stone. She had tucked it away before supper but now she brought it out again and unwrapped it on the bed. It lay there, an inert lump of rock with its crystal faces dim. She laid her hand on it gently. Nothing.
