Ruth flashed him a grin and he smiled thankfully; he found real comfort in the way she seemed instinctively to know him. If nothing else, the previous few weeks had given him a true friend.
The Wayfinder led them back to the M5 motorway and then north in the bright, warm sunshine. The van ran as good as new after the repairs, but the cost had made them worry about their funds. They all had credit cards and made their monthly payments by phone transfer from their savings accounts, but their reserves weren't endless.
Shavi was talkative on a range of subjects and Laura kept the banter going, but Veitch hardly said a word. His confrontation with the results of his actions seemed to have had a profound effect on him; above all, it appeared to have confirmed his own worst fears about himself. Church began to worry that Tom's assessment of Veitch had been correct and he resolved to talk to him as soon as he could get him alone.
They picked up the M4 and headed west into Wales, which, as Shavi noted, was an obvious destination, with its rich Celtic history and links to Arthurian legend.
'So, we're talking themes here,' Laura noted. 'Church has got his sword, so that makes him the big, fat king. I guess the tattooed boy here is Lancelot, the old hippie would be Merlin, Miss Gallagher back there acts like Queen Bee so I suppose she's Guinevere.' She slapped a hand hard on Shavi's thigh. 'Don't know what that makes you and me, though.'
'Is that it?' Ruth said with the excitement of someone who's just seen the light. 'We're, like, some kind of reincarnation-'
'No, that's too literal,' Church said insistently. 'And I keep saying this, but those are just stories. There was no Round Table or chivalrous knights. Arthur, if he existed at all, was a Celtic warlord-'
'So the historians say.' Tom pronounced the word with faint contempt.
'I'm not even going to begin talking to you about it.' Church waved his hand dismissively. 'You'll keep us talking round in circles and then tell us nothing new.'
Laura grabbed the rag Shavi used to wipe the windows and threw it hard at Tom's head. 'Come on, you old git. Spill the beans or we're going to tie you up and drag you along behind the van.'
He glared at her and readjusted his glasses.
'Brothers and Sisters of Dragons,' Shavi mused. 'Could that have something to do with Pendragon, Arthur's family name?'
Church shook his head. 'Pendragon is a mixture of Celtic and old Welsh meaning Chief Leader. The word root has nothing to do with dragons.'
'Or perhaps,' Tom said, as if he were dealing with idiots, 'it's simply another manifestation of the duality which is at the heart of everything.'
'That means double meanings, Laura,' Ruth called out.
'Come on, Tom, you can't do this to us,' Church protested.
'Yeah, come on, Tom.' Laura looked around the dashboard for something else to throw.
Tom noticed her and said hastily, 'I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you now. You're almost there anyway. You're not reincarnations in the literal sense that you mean, but you do carry within you the essence that the legends speak of. The Pendragon Spirit. It is a subtle power, a state of mind, an ability which is gifted to some to defend the land. That's the true meaning of the legend.'
'So Arthur and the knights are also a metaphor for this Pendragon spirit?' Church said.
'So we're descendants or something?' Laura said quizzically.
Tom shook his head. 'The land gifts it to the most deserving. It chooses the ones who'll defend it the best.'
'It screwed up this time, didn't it.' Veitch continued to stare out of the passenger window.
'That is … a tremendous burden,' Church said.
'Yeah, if you believe this,' Laura said.
'You're still at the start of your journey.' Tom delved into his knapsack for the tin where he kept his drugs. 'The journey that the Tarot delineates. At the moment you're all the Fool. When you come out at the other end, you'll be aware of the true meaning of the Pendragon Spirit.'
'The ones who survive,' Church said. He fought to damp down a sudden flash of the portent of his death.
'The ones who survive,' Tom agreed.
'There is something happening here,' Shavi interrupted. They felt the van slow down sharply and Ruth, Church and Tom clambered forward to peer through the windscreen. The motorway ahead was blocked by a row of emergency vehicles. Police were directing traffic up the slipway at the next exit. Ominously, Church could see army trucks on the deserted road ahead and some troops with guns discreetly positioned near the central reservation and the opposite bank. 'Where are we?'
'Just past Cardiff,' Shavi said.
As they pulled off slowly, Shavi wound down the window and asked a policeman what was wrong. 'An accident,' he said with a face like stone. 'Now be on your way. And keep to the diversions.'
'I've never seen the army brought in for an accident,' Veitch said.
'They're covering it up, aren't they?' Ruth sat down behind Shavi's seat. 'They know what's going on. Or if they don't know exactly what's happening, they know something out of the ordinary has hit the country. They'd have to know. And they're trying to stop everyone finding out so there isn't a panic.'
'Like holding back the waves.' Tom's voice was quiet, but the words fell like stones.
'What do you think's happened down there, then?' Laura seemed suddenly uneasy.
'Must be something bad to close off the whole motorway,' Witch said. 'It'll be causing chaos on all the roads around.'
'It seems like a great deal has happened during the two weeks we were away,' Shavi said darkly.
An uncomfortable silence filled the van as they joined the queues of traffic.
Although the Wayfinder continued to point west, they found it hard to follow its direction; a whole section of the country seemed to have been closed off with police and army barricades. But although they constantly checked the radio news broadcasts, there was no information about what was happening.
Just as they were considering abandoning the van and setting off on foot, they finally managed to break away from the main route and weave along deserted country roads through the soaring Welsh hills and mountains. There was an unearthly desolation to the countryside; no tractors in the fields, no pedestrians, although they could see lights in houses and smoke curling from chimneys.
Eventually they started to swing south-westwards until they hit one of the main tourist drags to the coast. Their speedy journey marked how effective the authorities had been at driving traffic away. Veitch, who was in charge of map reading, pointed out a small town, Builth Wells, which lay ahead of a long stretch of open countryside. They all agreed it would be a good place to stop for food, rest, and to see if any of the locals had any idea what was happening nearby.
But the closer they got to the town, the more they realised something was wrong. Even on the main road in there was no traffic, while the only sign of movement was a flurry of newspaper pages caught in the wind sweeping across the huge showground where the Welsh agricultural fair was held each year. They all fell silent as they crossed the old stone bridge over the River Wye that marked the entrance to the town proper, faces held rigid as they scanned the area.
'It's a ghost town,' Veitch said in a voice that was almost a whisper.
The van swung on to the one-way system that took them up the High Street where shops which should have been bustling at that time of day stood eerily empty. Cars were parked on the right, but they could have been left there days ago for all they knew. Nothing moved anywhere. Shavi wound down the window in the hope of hearing something they were missing, but the silence was so intense it made them feel queasy.
'Do you think they've been evacuated?' Ruth asked.
Church didn't give voice to what his instincts were telling him.
They followed the one-way system round to a nearly full car park alongside the river where Shavi pulled into a bay and switched off the engine.
'What are you doing?' Veitch said. 'You could have left it anywhere.'
Shavi shrugged. 'What can I say? In situations like this, I find comfort in following old routines.'
'Head-in-the-sand dude,' Laura chided, but they were all reluctant to get out.
Eventually Church led them from the car park up a side road to the High Street, where they argued about
