Time’s Legacy

16

Cynan was standing looking out across the water of the lake. The brisk wind had made it choppy. He could see the reeds thrashing to and fro, the yellowed leaves on the willows rustling back and forth and there in the distance he saw the dugout canoe with Romanus paddling in the stern. Yeshua had taken the other paddle and between them Mora sat low in the boat, cradling her bag of herbs. He narrowed his eyes. She had gone without a backwards glance. He shook his head. He could feel danger crackling in the air around them, like summer lightning on a humid, luminous night. He closed his eyes and tried to pray, but he wasn’t calm enough; he couldn’t reach deep into himself to touch the silent core of his being from where he could speak to his gods. He opened his eyes again. They were further away now, almost too far to recognise, heading for the landing point below Gaius’s fields. Glancing round he saw another boat pulled up among the reeds. He paused for only a second before he ran to it and began to push it into the water. At least he could be there. At least if they needed him, he could help.

Janet Cavendish parked her car beside Cal’s in front of Woodley Manor and climbed out. The front door opened and the two dogs came hurtling out, followed by Cal. ‘Thanks for coming over.’ She leaned forward to kiss her sister-in-law’s cheek.

Janet looked at her in concern. The urgent message had been totally unexpected. As a rule the two of them rubbed along in a state of happy incomprehension. They came, as Janet often thought, from two different worlds; two different planets. All they had in common was the surname and the two brothers. When they met it was always to sort out something one or the other of them felt could not be done alone. A Cavendish problem. Both of them realised that at some level that joined them at the hip. If a phone call came, it meant drop everything and listen.

Cal led the way into the kitchen, settled Janet into a chair and put on the kettle. The two dogs threw themselves down in front of the fire recognising the fact that this was obviously going to be a conference. No prospect of an imminent walk, then.

‘We have to be prepared to do something about Kieran Scott,’ Janet said without preamble. ‘And soon.’

Cal was spooning coffee into the percolator. ‘Horrid man.’

‘More than horrid, Cal. Dangerous.’

Cal turned and glanced at her. A word like dangerous from Janet was serious.

‘He rang earlier and called Ben, did you know?’

Cal shook her head.

‘He was in St Mary’s with Abi. Ben took off like a scalded cat. I’ve never seen him look so worried.’

Cal pursed her lips. ‘Wretched man. Why can’t he leave Abi alone?’

‘He’s obsessed, that’s why. Dangerously obsessed.’ Janet took the cup of coffee, sipped it and winced as it burned her mouth. ‘I’ve seen men like this before, Cal. Fundamentalist; absolutely convinced he is right and that everything he is doing is for God. I know Ben has tried to calm him down, and will be trying to calm him down as we speak, but he won’t recognise any possibility that he could be wrong or that Abi’s views and feelings are the remotest bit relevant. I gather she is troubled too, and she seems to be quite a feisty lady. The combination could be disastrous. The problem is that Ben is such a gentle, good man. He believes that prayer and reason can sort out anything.’ She shrugged and shook her head, knowing instinctively that Cal would recognise that this was probably not a realistic outcome.

Janet looked round suddenly. ‘Where is Mat?’

‘He had to go back to Taunton to collect some papers.’

Janet looked relieved. On the balance of things this was probably just as well. Mat was a bit of a wild card. And if anyone mentioned Justin in front of him…She glanced back at Cal. ‘Did you know that Ben called Justin in?’

Cal nodded. ‘Abi told me.’

‘That implies that Ben feels out of his depth.’ She sighed.

‘What are you afraid of, Jan?’ Cal sat down, warming her hands around her mug. ‘Do you think Kier could be violent?’

Janet nodded. ‘Oh yes. I’ve seen that expression in men’s eyes before. He doesn’t rate Ben at all. He thinks he knows more, is holier, is “chosen”, is Abi’s only hope. All that and more. And my dear sweet husband will have walked over to the church like an innocent to the slaughter.’

Cal stood up. ‘Then let’s go over there now.’

Janet gathered up her handbag. ‘I’ve been thinking what to do. We have to be careful. If we rush in, we could exacerbate things. I don’t think Kier is armed or anything like that. He’s not going to shoot anyone. He is more likely to be hurling thunderbolts. Bible quotes. Holy water. Plus the whole John Knox bit. Blasting the monstrous regiment of women. That may or may not hurt Abi. I suspect she has inured herself against the Rev Scott to a certain extent, but it will shock Ben. It will be awful for him. I don’t know if he can cope.’

Cal was astonished to see tears in Janet’s eyes suddenly. She leaned forward. ‘Ben is tougher than you think, Jan. He’ll cope.’

‘Will he?’

‘He’s a senior churchman. He can deal with the likes of Kieran Scott. It’s Abi I’m afraid for. You’re right, she knows what to expect from Kier, but she’s vulnerable at the moment. She is fighting her own demons. She doesn’t need him putting the knife in and twisting the blade.’

The two women looked at each other. ‘OK. You’re right. Let’s go. But we’ll approach quietly and see what’s happening, OK?’

They put down their mugs and reached for their coats. The dogs stood up eagerly. Cal looked at them, thought for a moment, then nodded and opened the door. The dogs had adored Abi from the first moment they met her. If there was any trouble, she knew who the dogs would ally with.

The air was full of the rushing of wind, splatters of raindrops from the speeding clouds, shadows racing across the ground from the west. The yew trees were hissing gently, guarding the path as the two women crept nearer to the church. Janet gripped the door handle with both hands and began to turn it as quietly as she could. The door creaked as it opened a crack. They held their breath and listened. There was no sound from inside the building. She pushed the door open and they stood looking in.

Ben was standing in front of the altar, staring up at the window. He turned as he heard them and they both saw the anxiety in his face. When he recognised them he broke into a smile. ‘Janet! Cal! What are you doing here?’ He had lit the candles on the altar and they flickered and streamed in the draft from the open door.

‘We came to see if you were all right?’ Cal called the dogs back sharply as they ran up the aisle and they came back to heel and sat down beside her, looking sheepish. ‘Where are Abi and Kier? What happened?’

Ben gave a rueful smile. ‘Ah, I see. You’ve come to pick up the pieces. Well I’m pleased to say no blood was spilled.’ He shook his head. ‘It was pretty bad though. Just turned up and saved the day.’

‘Justin?’ Cal echoed. She looked round. ‘Where is he?’

‘Kier left rather abruptly and I fear probably temporarily. I was afraid that that was him when you came in just now. Just has taken Abi out into the orchard to try and sort out her ghosts.’ He shook his head. ‘I stayed in here to pray. The atmosphere was appalling.’

‘It’s all right now,’ Cal said. ‘Isn’t it?’

He shrugged. ‘Better than it was. I should have left the door open. A technical point, but an important one. I had closed it against Kier, but it allowed some of the anger to remain trapped. But now you’re here, with the dogs,’ he smiled down at the animals fondly, ‘it is better.’

‘We came through the orchard,’ Janet said suddenly. ‘We didn’t see anyone there.’

They looked at one another. ‘It doesn’t mean anything bad has happened,’ Ben said reassuringly. ‘Just will look after her. I’m sure he could defeat Kieran if it came to blows. He is younger and I suspect a lot fitter.’

‘He too is a priest, Ben,’ Cal said quietly. ‘He isn’t a man of violence.’

Ben smiled wryly. ‘That description applies to Kier as well, my dear. Or at least it should.’ He sighed. ‘But we must try and find them. Are those dogs of yours any good at tracking?’

Cynan pushed the dugout into the reeds and jumped out. He glanced round. There was no sign of anyone. The reed beds swayed in the wind; a sheet of ripples spread swiftly across the water behind him and was gone. He frowned. He could hear birds calling from the osiers on the bank; from somewhere nearby he heard the bark of a deer. He reached back into the boat for his staff, then he turned and began to walk steadily up the track towards the house.

‘I can see him,’ Justin whispered. ‘He is a brave man.’

‘He’s in love with Mora,’ Abi breathed. They were standing on the edge of the field, by one of the deep straight drainage ditches which had so long ago taken the water from the lake over which Cynan had paddled. He strode past them, his eyes on the track ahead, his sandaled feet padding softly over the muddy grass, then he paused and looked round. They saw his knuckles whiten on the wood of his staff.

‘He can feel us,’ Justin said quietly. ‘We are very close.’

Abi held her breath.

Cynan stood still for several seconds, then he set off once more, but they could see he was wary, his eyes flicking left and right towards the undergrowth. After a few more paces he stopped again and turned back, this time looking straight at them. He fumbled at his waist and with a sharp irrational jolt of fear Abi saw him draw a knife. So he was armed after all.

‘Can he see us?’ she murmured.

Justin nodded. ‘I think so. Wait here. Don’t move. I will speak to him.’

She watched as he took one careful step forward. He paused, then he took another. Cynan frowned. He was peering round now as though trying to see through a mist. ‘Greetings, my friend.’ Justin spoke out loud at last.

Abi saw the other man’s fist tighten over the handle of his knife.

‘You know there is danger up there at the homestead,’ Justin went on slowly. ‘We are here to help if we can.’

‘He can’t understand what you are saying,’ Abi whispered.

‘He can. Just as you could understand them,’ Justin retorted. ‘The Roman has tricked his nephew,’ he went on, turning back to Cynan. ‘The man lies in wait to kill Yeshua and Mora.’

Cynan backed away a few steps, looking increasingly confused. While holding the knife out in front of him with one hand, he rubbed his eyes with the back of the other.

‘Listen to me, my friend. Beware. Listen to your heart. You already suspect treachery. You must hurry to help them. Mora needs you.’

‘Mora!’ Kier’s voice ripped through the sound of the hissing reeds. ‘Again, Mora! The witch’s goddess! Begone, you foul fiend!’ He was standing so close to them Abi couldn’t believe they hadn’t seen him coming. He had raised his hand and he made the sign of the cross in front of them, then he stretched forward and grabbed Abi’s wrist. ‘Come with me. I can’t let you listen to this pagan mumbo jumbo. You have to be saved!’ He sounded desperate as he dragged her towards him and for a moment she felt herself fall off balance, unable to pull away.

‘Let her go, you fool.’ Justin recovered himself fast. Behind them Cynan had disappeared into the mist. The sun reflected on the water of the ditch and the wind shook the leaves on the pollarded willow nearby.

‘Let me go!’ Abi tried to wrench herself free. ‘You are insane, Kier! Help Cynan,’ she shouted at Justin. ‘Don’t be distracted. Please, help him.’ She was struggling hard now, trying to wrench her wrist away from his grasp but Kier was too strong for her. Slowly and inexorably he was dragging her away from the ditch and towards the hedge behind which was the road.

The two dogs were on them before they realised what was happening, barking wildly as they raced across the field. Abruptly Kier released her. He swore under his breath as the two women appeared by the gate. ‘Don’t think this is the last of it!’ he muttered to Abi. Turning, he walked swiftly down the field away from them.

‘Leave him,’ Justin called. She wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or to the dogs. Rubbing her wrist, Abi saw Cal and Janet hurrying towards them.

‘What was he doing!’ Cal called as soon as she was close enough. ‘For goodness sake, Abi, are you all right?’

‘I’m fine.’ Abi shook her head angrily. ‘Ignore him.’ She spun round to Justin. ‘What happened?’

Justin shook his head. ‘He’s gone. I’ve lost him.’

‘Who’s gone?’ Cal asked, puzzled.

Justin gave a dry laugh. ‘A visitor from the past, Cal. Don’t worry about it.’

‘There was a ghost. Here?’

‘There are ghosts everywhere, you know that as well as I do,’ Justin retorted. He went over to Abi and took her arm. ‘Let me see that wrist. He hasn’t broken it, has he?’

She winced. ‘It’s just painful.’

‘Do you want us to call the police? The man is a menace,’ Janet put in as Justin gently probed the back of Abi’s hand.

‘No. I just want to keep away from him!’ Abi pulled her hand away. ‘Sorry, that hurts. It’s not broken! I’ll be fine.’ She stared round. ‘Where has Kier gone?’

‘Back to the road,’ Janet said. ‘His car is parked up there in a lay-by. We saw it.’

‘You have to tell the police, Abi,’ Cal went on. ‘This has gone on long enough.’

Abi shook her head. ‘We just need to get on with what we were doing. If he’s gone, then that’s fine. Please, I’m sorry, but this is important.’

‘No Abi,’ Justin said. ‘It’s over. We were there at a particular moment in time. It’s gone. Time moves on. The past waits for no-one. Whatever happened, happened.’

‘No!’ She looked at him in despair. ‘No, we can help, I know we can.’

He looked back at her resolutely. ‘Not now. It’s over.’

‘But – ’

‘No, Abi. I’m sorry.’

‘But there will be another chance?’

‘There might.’ He watched her gravely. ‘What you have to do is learn to observe and listen and then you will know when you can communicate with them. But for now you will have to go back to being a passive observer. I’m sorry, but that is the way it is. It’s to do with the tides.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Not just the tides in the sea, but the tides out there,’ he gestured up towards the sky. ‘Moon, sun, stars, atmosphere, a thousand different possibilities have to coincide to make it happen.’

‘And they coincided just now?’ She was staring at him.

‘For a brief moment, yes.’

‘What a load of bull, Justin!’ Cal said. ‘Leave the poor girl alone. She’s been through enough. Isn’t it sufficient that she can see these poor bloody ghosts without you trying to turn the whole thing into some sort of mystical time warp fest!’

Justin shook his head in despair. ‘You of all people should understand, Cal.’

‘No. That’s enough. She’s a vicar, for goodness sake.’

‘And what has that to do with anything?’ Justin said. ‘Can’t vicars understand quantum physics?’

Abi gave a watery smile. ‘No, to be honest they can’t. At least this one can’t. I just wanted to help Mora.’

‘And maybe you have.’ Justin put his arm round her shoulder. ‘Already you have changed what was and what was to be. You have shaken the waves of time. Who knows, Cynan may have heard us. He may have hurried up the hill a little faster. He may have looked out a little more carefully and he may have warned her what was going to happen.’

She looked up at him. ‘You really believe we can alter the past?’ His arm around her was firm and comforting. Without realising it she had relaxed against him.

He shrugged. ‘I believe in all possibilities.’ He released her abruptly and turned to Cal. ‘I need to go back to talk to Ben. Will you take care of her, Cal? If you need me, ring me on my mobile.’ He turned back to Abi. ‘You, look after yourself and keep away from that maniac.’

Before any of them could speak Justin was striding away across the field and heading back towards the gate.

Abi stared after him, overwhelmed by a sudden sense of loss.

At the edge of the copse Romanus paused and hesitated. ‘Wait,’ he said anxiously.

‘What is it?’ Mora followed him into the shelter of the blackthorn scrub which bordered the track. Her nerves were at breaking point. ‘Did you hear something?’ All around them trees and bushes seemed to cluster together to make hiding places; the birds were wary, she could sense it. Something was wrong.

Romanus shook his head. ‘Let me go ahead and make sure he’s gone.’

She scanned his face. ‘You said you were sure.’

‘And I am. It’s just – ’ He was pale, his eyes darting round them anxiously.

She looked at Yeshua. ‘We should go back.’

He shook his head. ‘Not when we have come so far. I sense no danger here. Not yet.’

‘Not yet?’ Her voice rose to a squeak.

He smiled. ‘We are here for Petra, Mora. She needs to see us.’

She looked at him doubtfully, then back at Romanus. ‘Go, then. Quickly. Make sure your uncle isn’t there.’

Romanus was back within a short space of time. He was smiling. ‘Sorcha saw him go,’ he said. ‘She watched him go a long way down the track. It’s quite safe. This way.’

By the time they got there Petra was lying by the fire, propped against several cushions. Her hair had been brushed and the rugs covering her shaken and straightened. Sorcha and Lydia were standing beside her, their faces anxious as they waited for the visitors. Romanus remained in the doorway as Mora led the way in.

Yeshua went straight to Petra and knelt beside her. ‘You mustn’t be afraid. I’m here to help you.’ He laid his hand on her forehead. She was burning with fever, her eyes bright, the fingers of the hand he took in his were swollen and red. He smiled gently. ‘Do you believe that I can help you, Petra?’

She nodded shyly.

‘Then come. Stand up.’

Behind him Lydia drew in a quick breath. ‘She can’t. She’s in too much pain.’

Yeshua looked up at her. ‘You must have faith, too. God can heal everything and everyone.’ He turned back to Petra. ‘Stand up, my child. Your pain has gone.’

She held his gaze for a long minute, her eyes full of hope, then slowly she reached down and pushed back the rugs. Carefully she swung her legs off the low couch and rose to her feet. She stood there for several seconds, breathing carefully, not moving. Yeshua stood up too and held out his hands. ‘Come. Walk to me. It won’t hurt.’

There wasn’t a sound in the room. The eyes of the three women were fixed on Petra as she took first one step then another. She reached out her hands towards him uncertainly and then slowly she began to smile. ‘It doesn’t hurt any more!’

He smiled. ‘Good. Come, try a few more steps.’ He backed away from her, slowly encouraging her to move forward.

‘It doesn’t. It doesn’t hurt!’ Her voice rose in delight.

Mora stared at her, then at Yeshua. She could see the child’s hands. The swollen joints had subsided. The pain had left the girl’s face. She looked at Yeshua and he met her eye with a grave smile. ‘You’ve cured her,’ she whispered.

‘God cured her,’ he said.

Lydia was staring at him in awe. Stepping forward she took his hand in both of hers. ‘How can I thank you?’

‘By thanking God, and then by being happy with your daughter. She has suffered too long. She needs to learn how to have fun; to dance, to run like other children.’ He looked across at Sorcha. ‘You mustn’t be afraid.’

Sorcha blushed scarlet. ‘I’ve never seen anything like that before. Mora has been trying for so long.’

‘Mora is a brilliant healer,’ Yeshua said quietly. ‘She is the best and you must use her medicines and her help whenever you need it.’

‘And you’ll show her how to do whatever it was you did just now?’

Yeshua glanced at Mora. ‘I’ll show her.’

Silently Mora walked over to Petra and took her hands in her own. The heat had gone. The hands, the wrists were cool to her touch. She looked up at Petra’s face and smiled. ‘You won’t need me again. I’m so pleased.’ She looked at Yeshua. ‘Another miracle?’ She too was suddenly in awe of him. ‘This is your god?’

He nodded. ‘My father.’

There was a long silence. They were all looking at him. Suddenly he shook his head. ‘Come! Petra needs something to eat. We all do, then Mora and I must return to the island. We have things to talk about before I leave.’

‘You’re leaving?’ Lydia looked distraught.

He nodded. ‘I fear so. I have to return to my own country, but I shall pray for you all. I shall ask God to keep you safe.’ He turned to the doorway. ‘Romanus? You have kept watch well. Come in and eat with us.’

Romanus had seen what had happened from the doorway. He looked at Yeshua with something like hero worship in his eyes, but he was frightened. He shook his head. ‘I must stay here and watch.’

‘Because you know your uncle is coming back?’ Yeshua said gently.

Romanus blushed scarlet. ‘I’m afraid he might.’

‘So he hasn’t gone on a long journey today?’

Romanus shook his head.

‘And you were prepared to allow us to walk into a trap?’

‘Romanus?’ Lydia’s voice was sharp. ‘Tell me that’s not true!’

Romanus shrugged miserably. ‘Uncle Flavius wanted Petra to get better so he went out. He knew Yeshua wouldn’t come if it wasn’t safe.’

‘He knew Yeshua was coming here?’

Romanus glanced from one to the other of them nervously. He was beginning to look like a trapped animal. ‘He guessed.’

‘He didn’t guess. He had sent you to fetch him!’

Romanus nodded uncomfortably. Lydia looked at Yeshua, her face white. ‘My son has betrayed you!’

Yeshua shook his head. ‘It’s not his fault. Don’t blame him. Your brother-in-law is a clever and forceful man. He will have used arguments a boy of Romanus’s age could not have countered. Blackmail. Bribery. Threats.’ He glanced at Romanus and smiled. ‘The important thing is that you have told us now. Mora and I can leave quickly and get home – ’

‘No!’ Romanus shook his head. ‘You don’t understand. He’s lying in wait for you. He promised me he wouldn’t hurt Mora but he means to kill you. He needed to get you off the island. He didn’t want any witnesses to what he was going to do – ’ He broke off in horror, looking at Mora.

‘So, finally you see the truth,’ Sorcha put in. ‘You stupid boy! You think he would let Mora live?’

Romanus was speechless. Suddenly there were tears in his eyes.

‘We’ll give you an escort back to the lake,’ Lydia said suddenly. ‘The men on the farm can go with you. And we can go too. If there are enough of us he can’t do anything. Once you are there you are safe.’

‘Until he tries to leave,’ Sorcha put in.

Yeshua shook his head. ‘My father will protect us.’ He went over to Romanus and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘You did right to tell us. We’ll go now. There is still time to get to the lake before your uncle returns. God bless you. Look after your sister and your mother.’ He ducked out into the sunshine. Mora followed him. The others stayed where they were in silence.

‘Are you sure he won’t come back ’til later?’ Mora whispered as they headed towards the gate.

Yeshua grinned at her. ‘Not entirely. But I don’t want to put them all in danger. The man is a vengeful bully by nature. He won’t hesitate to hurt people who get in his way. That little family have suffered enough. We have been forewarned. That gives us an advantage, and God is with us.’ He caught her hand. ‘This way. We won’t use the track. We’ll cut down through the wood. Listen to your friends the birds. They will warn us if there is someone about.’

The path down through the wood was steep. The carpet of dead leaves rustled beneath their feet as they made their way cautiously back towards the place where they had left the boat. ‘Romanus isn’t coming,’ Mora whispered. ‘We’ll have to paddle the boat ourselves.’

He grinned at her. ‘So, you think that’s a problem?’

She shook her head. ‘What you did for Petra,’ she said after a few more paces, ‘that was a miracle. I have tried so hard for so long to make her better.’

‘That was God’s power working through me,’ he said slowly. He paused and they stopped, looking at each other. He looked troubled. ‘This was another sign that my work in this country is done, Mora. I have prayed so often about this. I am needed in my own country. It is there my teaching is to be done. Others will come after me, to spread the word across the whole world.’ He shook his head. ‘I feel the weight of it all on my shoulders. Sometimes I think I see what is to come, then the future is once more shrouded in mist and I know I am not supposed to know yet. I’m not strong enough yet. I haven’t studied enough yet.’

She moved closer to him and put her hands on his shoulders, resting her head against his chest. ‘I have seen your future in the sacred spring.’

He frowned. ‘Tell me?’

She clung to him. ‘I can’t.’

‘Mora?’

It was a moment before she looked up to meet his gaze. She shook her head.

He nodded slowly. ‘I think I know.’

‘You will one day be the most famous man of all time,’ she whispered.

He smiled. ‘At least I escape the clutches of Flavius.’

She swallowed. ‘For now.’

‘And you. Did you see the future for yourself?’

She pushed him away. ‘Come on, we have to get down to the boat. There is no point in waiting for the light to go. It will be even easier for him to jump on us!’

‘Mora?’ He caught her hand. ‘What happens to you?’

‘We don’t see our own destiny,’ she said, with a brave attempt at a smile. ‘That is kept from us by the gods!’

He frowned. ‘Mora – ’

‘I know. Your god does not recognise our gods. Well, maybe in some things our gods know best. The gods of the rain and mist, the gods of the restless ocean, the gods of the sacred well…’ Suddenly she was crying.

He took her hands and drew her to him, then he put his arms around her. ‘Mora, my little love.’

She buried her face in his chest again and stayed there for a long time. Then at last she raised her head. ‘Come on. To the boat.’

Abi was staring into the fire. The kitchen was deserted, she realised. The others had gone. Not even the dogs were there. Wearily she stood up. Had she been asleep? Was that a dream? She couldn’t tell the difference sometimes between her dreams and the visions which happened when she was awake. She noticed the cup of coffee on the table. It was cold. Beside it there was a note.

Abi! Didn’t want to wake you. Mat rang. His car had broken down. I’ve taken the dogs and gone to fetch him. Back soon. If you go over to St Mary’s, Lock yourself in. Be vigilant!! C xx

Abi glanced at her watch. It was three p.m. She looked up at the window as a squall of rain swept across the garden and smacked against the glass and she shivered. Part of her wanted to stay indoors, but another part wanted to go back to the church. In spite of Kier she loved it there and it was there that Mora had tried to speak to her. Besides, she wanted to see if she could sense what Ben and Justin had done.

She sighed. What if Kier’s exorcism had driven Mora away? What then? She had to find out. And where was Cynan, who had been on his way to help them? She took her jacket down from the hook near the door and pulled it on. Then cautiously she opened the door. A blast of wind hit her. Leaves were racing round the garden in spirals, mini whirlwinds of scarlet and yellow. The sky was grey and heavy with bulging clouds. Trees bent and whipped before the wind, their leaves streaming out, some falling, whipped away, others hanging on in streamers of carmine and scarlet and ochre. Closing the door behind her she rammed her hands into her pockets and leaning into the wind, she walked resolutely across the garden. The place seemed deserted. She kept her eyes skinned for Kier, searching the corners and shadows behind tree trunks and bushes, turning round every so often to look behind her, refusing to give in to her insane urge to turn and run for it back to the house where she could lock herself in and build up the fire and wait there until the others came back.

The walk down through the orchard seemed steeper than usual in the face of the wind and she felt herself breathless as she reached the lych-gate. Above her, the squat grey church was huddling down behind its yews, used to the wild weather. Abi ducked into the porch, looking round. Anyone could be hiding behind those huge old trees with their impenetrable arms flung wide. The wind whistled through the foliage, tearing the flowers someone had laid on an ancient grave near the gate out of their container and whipping them away to lie at the foot of the hedge. It was as she pushed the door and heard it creak as it opened that she realised that this was where he would be hiding. Her heart seemed to stop beating for several seconds as she peered in. All was silent. ‘Kier?’ Her own voice seemed like an intrusion, a sacrilege as she called out, and heard the silence echo back. She went in and pulled the door to behind her, glad to be out of the wind. In here the quiet was almost shocking. She felt in her pocket for her matches – she had borrowed a box several days ago to make sure she would always be able to light the candles when she got there – and she went to the candelabra which stood near the font, lighting the six candles, throwing flickering light up into the roof beams. Only when she was completely satisfied that there was no sign of Kier did she go back to the door and draw the rusty wrought iron bolt across.

It took a long time for the atmosphere to grow still. She sat with her eyes fixed on the window as the light in the eastern sky faded, feeling her way into the silence. Ben had obviously done a good job. She could sense his prayers weaving around her, restoring the tranquillity of the place. As it grew dark she got up from her chair and walked up to the altar. She lit those candles too, then she knelt down. It was hard to voice the words of the prayer. Dear Jesus. Is it you? Are you Yeshua? Did you come here, to this peaceful place? Did you meet treachery and mayhem here as well as good and learned men? Did you meet a woman here whom you felt you could love…The words faded. She couldn’t speak them out loud. She sensed a ripple of movement in the air above her head and looked up. Nothing. She knelt in silence, trying to still her own thoughts, listening, waiting.

It was full dark when at last she stood up. There had been no answer to her prayers, no words, no ghosts. She felt in her pocket for her torch and extinguished all the candles one by one before making her way back to the door by the wavering beam of the torch. Her hand on the bolt, she paused. Supposing he was outside, waiting for her? She switched off the torch and waited in the dark, listening. She could hear the wind roaring across the levels behind the church, moaning in the yew trees, hissing through the oaks by the lych-gate. She couldn’t think how she had been unaware of it before. Cautiously she wriggled the bolt back and twisted the ring handle to lift the latch. She could feel her anger simmering again. How dare this one man intimidate her to this extent? What rights did he think he had over her? How could he be allowed to get away with stalking her to the point of making her life a misery? Well, it wasn’t going to go on. Tomorrow she would go to the police and make a formal complaint. She stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind her, then, pulling the collar of her jacket up around her ears, she headed down the path towards the lych-gate.

‘She’s gone out!’ Cal was on the phone to Ben. ‘I cannot believe she would be so stupid! Well, I can actually. To the point where I left her a note telling her to lock herself in if she went over to St Mary’s. And now it’s dark, and I’m worried!’

‘She’s a stubborn woman,’ Ben said ruefully. ‘Huge amounts of charm and so much to give to the church, but very wilful. And now -’ He stopped mid-sentence.

‘And now?’

‘Jesus. Here.’

‘You think she has flipped?’

There was a wry laugh from the other end of the phone. ‘I don’t know what to think, to be honest. I have been questioning myself. Why do I find it completely OK to believe in Romans and druids and other assorted ghosts, but not My Lord? How do we know he didn’t come here? He had to be somewhere in the missing years. He had the whole world to choose from and plenty of time to visit every corner of it if he so wished.’

‘What’s the official version?’ Cal put the phone to the other ear and walked over to flip the switch on the kettle. She glanced at the clock and frowned. It had been dark for over an hour now. Mat was walking over to the church with the dogs and a large torch and the wind was getting stronger every second.

‘That he studied to be a rabbi, I suppose.’

‘And suddenly popped up out of nowhere to be the Messiah?’ She shrugged. ‘Surely someone would have noticed him getting more and more learned and charismatic over the years.’

‘Perhaps they did. It’s just that none of the official versions of the gospels which have come down to us tell us about it.’ Ben sighed. ‘She hasn’t gone out in her car, I suppose?’

‘No, it’s still there!’

‘I just hope Kier didn’t come back, I genuinely fear for that man’s sanity.’

She heard a muttered aside, then Ben came back on the line. ‘Sorry, Cal. I’ve got to go. Call me, please, the second you hear anything.’

Cal sighed. She made herself a cup of instant coffee and went to sit down beside the fire, staring into the flames. If she was a druid she would be able to read the messages there, she thought idly. She would know where Abi was. She would know what had happened, and whether Mora and Jesus had made it to safety in the end.

Abruptly she put down her coffee mug and stood up again. She might not be a druid, but she knew someone who was and maybe by now he was back on the end of the phone.

‘Justin, where are you?’

‘I’m back home.’ He sounded exhausted. ‘For goodness sake, Cal, you haven’t lost her again!’

‘She’s gone, Just. I know it’s stupid but we couldn’t keep her locked up. I just wondered whether she had come with you?’

There was a moment of silence the other end of the phone. ‘You know she didn’t. I left alone.’

‘I know.’ Her voice fell. ‘But for all I know you might have met up later. No. Silly idea. It’s just that I’m so worried. Kier is still wandering around. He really scares me.’

‘And my indomitable brother is…?’

‘Out looking for her with the dogs. He’s gone over to St Mary’s, just to make sure.’

‘Then he will probably find her there.’

‘You couldn’t look into the fire and do some scrying could you?’

There was a moment’s astonished silence. Then Justin laughed. ‘Did I just hear you right?’

‘Please, Justin. I know you can do it.’

‘You think so.’

‘Yes.’

There was an other chuckle. ‘Ring me when you find her, Cal!’

She looked at the receiver and banged it down in exasperation. He had hung up on her.

Back in Wells, in the lounge of the pub after his meal, a coffee and a small dish containing two chocolate truffles in front of him on the low table, a local guide-book open on his knee, Kier began to gather his thoughts into some sort of a plan. The trouble was that Abi was surrounded by people who seemed to have made it their mission in life to thwart him in his desire to save her from herself. It wasn’t their fault. They thought they were doing the right thing. They had believed her when she told them he was pestering her. He glanced up as someone sat down at the far end of the same low sofa, nudging the table and inadvertently slopping some of his coffee into the saucer. The man apologised profusely, offering to buy him another coffee and there were several minutes of general palaver before he sat down and allowed Kier to settle down to his own thoughts again. The room was very pleasant. A low hum of conversation from the people around him, the sweet smell of logs from the large open fire, were seductive. Reassuring. He blinked several times to keep himself awake.

He had to get Abi away from the Cavendish family and somewhere where he could speak to her, and have even half a chance of persuading her of the danger she was putting herself in. He shivered as he thought about Justin Cavendish. Before he came out, he had dug his notebook out of the bottom of his bag in the hotel bedroom and Googled Justin on the off chance. Somewhat to his surprise, there had been several entries. He scrolled though them with interest. Justin was the author of two books, one a history of local folklore, little more really than a themed guidebook. The other was a book on the ancient druids. This sounded far more academic. He looked it up on Amazon. Four and a half stars. Loads of reviews, nearly all respectful and even laudatory. The man seemed to have been attached to Oxford University at some point and he was also part-author of a book on druid philosophy with another Oxford graduate, Meryn Jones. Kier didn’t bother to look that one up. He went back to Google. There he found newspaper references to the death of a young woman, Sunny Wake-Richards. She had, in the last stages of terminal cancer, left hospital to embrace various complimentary therapies, including spiritual healing. He frowned. Justin Cavendish had been called as a witness at the subsequent inquest after the family had accused various alternative practitioners of hastening her death. The police had investigated and said there was no case to answer, that Sunny had left hospital of her own free will, without coercion, but Sunny’s mother had stood up in court and accused Justin of murder.

Kier raised an eyebrow. So, he had given up a lectureship at Oxford University to become a spiritual healer. There were lots of advertisements for second hand copies of his books listed, but no website, no other articles, no comments. He was about to shut the laptop when he decided he might as well look up Justin’s co-author, Meryn Jones and here he struck gold. Another list of books – these druids didn’t seem to be able to keep out of print these days! But far better, he found an article which had been written about Meryn in a Scottish Sunday newspaper two years before. It described him as shaman, druid priest, author, mystic and psychic investigator and it mentioned that he had moved to Scotland via the USA from Mid Wales where he had lived near Hay-on-Wye and where his co-author and colleague, Justin Cavendish, still lived. Kier snorted with derision. ‘So, Justin, my friend, this is the kind of company you keep,’ he murmured softly. Justin, who had targeted Abi Rutherford, who because of her ordination as a priest in the church would be a trophy he could never have dreamed of.

He leaned forward to sip his coffee and picked up one of the chocolates in the dish in front of him. It was rich and delicious. A plan had begun to form in his head. It would need some careful thought, and organisation, but he thought he could pull it off, and once he had Abi would be safe where no-one would find her. In the meantime he would keep out of sight. It wouldn’t take long for them to let down their guard. They would imagine he had given up and gone away. A couple more days would do no harm if it meant he could help her in the end, and in the interim he would surround her with prayer, find out where Justin was based, and take steps to ensure that he never interfered with any God-fearing Christian ever again.

Cal was furious when Abi finally came in that evening. Tight-lipped, she did her best to hide it, but Abi was contrite. ‘I feel awful. I assumed you would know I had gone to the church. I’m really so sorry. I just needed to pray. To go back and make sure it was all right after the vile things Kier had said and done. I assumed you would know. You’d left the note telling me to lock myself in.’

‘I did. I’m sorry.’ Cal sighed and shook her head. ‘I’m more wound up about all this than I realised. It’s just, it got dark and I was imagining all sorts of things. That evil man has completely spooked me. There is something so sinister about him.’ She pushed Abi into one of the chairs by the fire and poured her a glass of wine. ‘And Mat said he was going to the church but he isn’t back yet.’

Abi stared at her in horror. ‘He hasn’t gone out to look for me?’

Cal nodded. ‘He’s got the dogs. He’ll be fine.’

‘How could I have missed him?’

‘I don’t know.’ Cal shrugged. ‘I thought he would be twenty minutes.’

They looked at each other for a few seconds, then Abi stood up again. ‘I’ll go and see – ’

‘I knew you’d been in the church!’ The door opened and Mat appeared, his hair dishevelled and damp from the cold evening air. ‘The candles were still warm when I got there.’ He grinned as he came in. ‘My passion for Sherlock Holmes has not been in vain! I put two and two together and realised you must have only just left and lo and behold, here you are.’

Abi was grateful for his good humour. It somehow defused Cal’s anxiety which was still hanging in the kitchen in a palpable curtain.

‘I promise I won’t scare you like that again,’ she said later when they were preparing to go up to bed. It was only when Cal had rung Ben and Justin back that she had realised just how much of a panic she had been in. Mat was banking up the fire, putting the guard in place. ‘I was thoughtless and you are both being so kind to me.’

Cal gave her a quick hug. ‘This is a new experience for us. I just don’t want you to come to harm.’

Mat stood up with a grin. ‘In fact it’s been quite exciting. Not the sort of thing one gets involved in as a routine. Please don’t feel guilty, Abi. None of this is your fault. If this obsessive piece of work hadn’t come after you everything would be fine. I thought,’ he hesitated, ‘I thought, if you don’t object, I’d have a word with Ben and suggest that he gets in touch with the bishop. David needs to know what sort of a man Kier is. He may not realise just how far down this obsessive route he’s gone. I don’t know if he has any authority to rein him in, but if he has he should do it.’

‘Do you think he’s still round here somewhere?’ Cal folded a tea towel and began to turn out the lights. Involuntarily she glanced towards the window.

‘Yes,’ Abi said after a moment’s thought. ‘I don’t think he’s going to give up. I’ll go and see Ben tomorrow if he’s got a moment and I’ll mention David if you like. I agree, he might be able to say something to Kier.’ She hesitated. ‘It’s just, when I looked into Kier’s face, there was something there which filled me with compassion as much as horror.’

‘Stay with the horror,’ Cal said tartly. ‘The man is threatening you.’ She had turned out all the lights save the one by the door.

Abi went over and kissed Cal on the cheek. ‘Thank you for everything.’

It was when she reached her bedroom and turned on the lights she remembered the crystal. It was outside in the hollow base of the tree. She bit her lip. She didn’t need it tonight. She would have a hot bath and read in bed for a bit and tomorrow in broad daylight she would retrieve it, follow Justin’s instructions, and summon Mora to see what had happened when she and Yeshua had found the dugout canoe and headed back to Avalon.

Unless something had happened to Mora.

She had bathed and washed her hair. Her bed looked inviting and warm in the pool of lamplight, a pile of books on the table beside it. She was safe. But she needed the crystal. She couldn’t wait until tomorrow. She had to know what happened. She sat on the bed, trying to put it out of her mind. Everyone had told her she didn’t need it. She knew she didn’t need it. She was becoming as obsessive as Kier.

She swung her feet into bed but it wasn’t going to work. She was not going to sleep unless she collected it and brought it into the safety of her room. If she did that, she could be sure. She could warn Mora, make her understand that Flavius would as soon kill her as smile at her. Supposing Justin was right, that she could interact with them in the past, that she could alter the outcome, the very timeline of history?

With a sigh she climbed out of bed and reached for her dressing gown. Tiptoeing to the door she pulled it open and looked out. The house was in darkness. Mat and Cal were probably asleep. The place was locked up, the dogs asleep in the kitchen. She couldn’t disturb them. She closed the door again, biting her lip. How likely was it that Kier would be out in the garden at midnight on a rainy windy night, however close he might be staying. She paced up and down a couple of times, chewing her thumbnail. How long would it take her to retrieve the crystal? Ten minutes? Five? Cal would never forgive her if she went out now in the dark and inadvertently woke them up. The dogs would bark if she went down. There was bound to be some noise.

She paced round the room again.

You don’t need the crystal. Athena’s voice echoed in her ears.

Mora had programmed it. It contained the last message she had ever put there. Supposing it was happening now. Flavius was creeping ever closer to them through the sedge and reeds, his sword in his hand, and she, Abi, could somehow have saved the situation.

Torn, she turned back into the room.

You don’t need the crystal.

Reluctantly she climbed into bed again and sat with her back against the pillows, helping herself to the pile of books which she had stacked on the bedside table: two novels which Cal had passed on to her, one of the histories of Glastonbury and then at the bottom her own Bible. She laid her hand on it affectionately. It was strange how her reaction to it had changed. Every time she looked at the New Testament now, she was reading it from a new angle. Jesus was a living breathing person to her now. Still the son of God. Still the teacher and the storyteller and her Redeemer, but also a living breathing man, full of doubt and uncertainty, fearful and brave, kind and gentle, but angry and frustrated. All that was shown in the gospels, but now for her it meant so much more. She let the Bible fall onto her knee unopened. She had to fetch the crystal. She had to.

It took less than ten minutes. The dogs didn’t bark. They thought it was exciting. They came with her; if anyone had been there they would have barked. They waited while she knelt in her dressing gown on the wet ground and fished into the dark wet hollow of the oak tree by the light of her torch, then they bounded ahead of her back to the house. She let herself indoors and bolted the back door. Then, with a conspiratorial whisper she swore them to secrecy as they returned to their beds by the fire. She turned off the light and padded upstairs, her hair wet with rain, her dressing gown smeared with mud, the crystal clutched against her chest and quietly let herself back into her room.

Cynan had walked cautiously up the track towards the house, then veered off into the alder scrub to the north of the farm. Something told him that if Flavius was lurking close to the house this would be where he would hide. He gripped his staff, and slipped into the shadows of a stand of ancient willows, flattening himself against the trunks of the trees as he peered round towards the fenced pasture near the house. He could see the smoke coming from the roof. There was no sound. He eased himself towards another tree, flitting like a shadow ever closer, aware that the wind in the autumn leaves masked the sound of his movements. Then he saw him. The Roman was standing still as a statue, hidden as he was, in the trees, only fifty paces from him. The man’s face was half-turned away but Cynan could see his hand, gripping the hilt of his short sword. So Mora and Yeshua were still inside the house. Cynan glanced out across the fields down to the lake. The Tor stood out against the grey clouds, illuminated by a ray of sunlight. He gave a grim smile. Blessed Gwyn, son of Nudd, be with me. Be ready to take this feeble and inexpert warrior into your kingdom of the dead. He ducked out of the shadow of the tree and moved closer to Flavius, counting on the wind to mask the sound of his footsteps and the fact that the man seemed to be concentrating so hard on the door of the house. Suddenly Flavius stepped back. Cynan paused, holding his breath. He too could see them now, a group of figures emerging from the low doorway.

First Mora, then Lydia, then Yeshua and Sorcha, bringing up the rear. They all embraced. They looked happy. Then Yeshua and Mora began to make their way towards the gate. Alone. How could they be so trusting? So stupid! Cynan felt his fist tighten round his staff.

He glanced back towards Flavius and his heart stood still. The man had vanished. He looked round frantically. Where had he gone? The woodland was alive with dancing shadows, rustling leaves, the crackle of twigs on the ground. He could be anywhere. He took a step forward. If he called out Flavius would hear him. He was torn between remaining hidden and running towards them. He was still too far away to help. He turned away, intent on making his way down through the trees to intercept the track closer to the lake. If he could get to them in time to warn them they could duck out of sight and avoid Flavius. That way they would be safe.

He set out following a game trail through the undergrowth, his eyes on the ground. He wasn’t sure what made him look up. As he did a black shape, which he barely had time to recognise as the silhouette of a man, appeared in front of him, there was a bang and a blinding flash as something hard met his head, and he crumpled to the ground.

Abi ran her finger over the milky face of the crystal. There was nothing there now. She cupped her hands around it, willing the picture back. What had happened to Cynan? Dear, kind, faithful Cynan. She almost shook the crystal. What was happening? Was Cynan dead? She knew that Mora had been more than fond of him. Had they been lovers before Yeshua had arrived? Certainly he loved her; they had been promised in marriage. She looked up at the window as a stronger than usual gust of wind outside rattled the panes and the curtains shivered and she reached out to touch the Bible again, lying near her on the bedcovers. The story of Jesus. The sum of all that was known about him.

Mora stopped and looked round. They were nearly at the edge of the lake now. She could see the two dugouts pulled up amongst the reeds. She put her hand on Yeshua’s arm and looked at him, putting her finger to her lips. Somewhere nearby she heard the strident triple caw of a crow and she shivered. It was an ill omen. She pulled him with her off the track and behind some trees, staring back the way they had come. ‘There’s someone there,’ she whispered. ‘Following us.’ He nodded and she saw his hand tighten on his staff.

She could sense it now. Something was wrong. She could smell blood and violence in the air. Lydia? Petra? Surely he wouldn’t have gone back to the house and killed his own family. She looked at Yeshua and saw him frowning. He pushed her behind him. ‘Stay here and don’t make a sound.’

‘No!’ She caught at his sleeve again. ‘You mustn’t. It’s you he wants to kill!’

But already he had stepped out onto the track. When Flavius appeared, his drawn sword in his hand, Yeshua was standing in front of him. ‘Greetings, my friend. It seems you cannot be dissuaded from trying to kill me.’

Flavius paused. His jaw set, he took a few steps forward, then stopped again. ‘I have no choice. I obey orders.’

‘And you have been told to act in secret, where there are no witnesses.’

Flavius glanced round. ‘I see no witnesses. No doubt the healer is with you. If she is it will not take long to despatch her too.’

‘And the boy Romanus? He will know what happened.’

‘He is expendable. As are his family.’

‘Your family,’ Yeshua corrected him.

Flavius sneered. ‘Not any longer!’ He took a firmer grip on his sword. ‘Prepare to die, healer!’ He smiled greedily, then abruptly the smile left his face and he was frowning. His sword hand fell to his side as two men stepped out of the shadows, one on either side of Yeshua. Flavius gazed at them in disbelief, then he shook his head and rammed the sword into its scabbard. ‘So, you’re not alone after all. So be it! I can wait.’ With a scowl he turned and ran into the undergrowth. In seconds he had disappeared. Had he turned back he would have seen Yeshua standing alone on the track.

Mora ran to Yeshua. ‘Why did he run away like that? What did you say to him?’

Yeshua smiled. ‘On this occasion my father sent help. Did you not see them?’

She stared at him and shook her head. ‘I saw a flash of light on the road. I don’t understand.’

‘We’re safe, that’s what matters.’ He put his arm round her.

‘And the house, are they safe there?’ She could still sense the violence in the air but he nodded reassuringly. ‘For now they are all safe. But the only way to keep them safe is for me to go. Tonight.’ He looked down at her. ‘Come. Back to the boat. I have farewells to make.’

Abi saw her face, the misery, the hunger, the desperate yearning love as Mora looked back up the track, then turned to follow him down towards the lake. Of Cynan there was no sign.