by Sandra Heath
Chapter 30
The village green was a hive of activity, for the fun would start at sundown on May Eve and would go on all night until sunup on May Day. The maypole had been carried from the Green Man and was in the process of being raised, and the merry-go-round was now completely assembled, much to the excitement of the village children. Even greater excitement was caused by the erection of a big wheel, an attraction never before been seen at Elcester. Acrobats and tightrope walkers rehearsed their performances, music played, and there was the smell of late breakfast cooking on various campfires.
Vera was waiting by the merry-go-round. She wore a dark blue mantle over a light blue dress, with a little straw bonnet on her head, and she was very nervous, glancing frequently in the direction of the inn as if she feared to see Taynton coming after her.
She came over as Ursula dismounted. “I cannot stay long, Miss Ursula, for there was very nearly a fire in the kitchens this morning, and now we’re all behind.”
“I will try to be as brief as possible, but there is a great deal you have to know, much of it that you may not even believe. Come on, let’s walk.” Leading Miss Muffet, Ursula walked slowly around the crowded green, with Vera listening at her side. The blacksmith’s daughter’s eyes grew wider and wider as the story of Macsen Wledig unfolded, but gradually their astonishment turned to a more thoughtful glint, and when everything had been related, she halted and faced Ursula.
“Bellamy and Sir Conan were once brothers?”
“Yes.”
“That means you and I were sisters-in-law?” Vera clearly had more difficulty accepting this latter fact than she did about the two men being siblings.
“Yes, we were, Vera,” Ursula confirmed, “and it’s up to us to make certain it all happens again.”
Vera thought a moment. “If he loved me then, he will love me again?”
“Yes, according to Elen of the Ways.”
Vera smoothed her skirts with hands that trembled, and glanced toward the church, where she could see the top of the yew tree and the curl of smoke from her father’s forge. “And my father is the Black Druid who will marry us?”
“We believe so.”
Vera smiled. “I will do whatever I can to help you, Miss Ursula.”
“We think that we can stop Taynton by finding the treasure first. At least, we hope that is how it will be. Whatever the way of it, it’s bound to be best that he doesn’t know we’ve discovered the villa, or that we’ve taken the chalice from the oak, so if you keep him busy today while we search in the woods ... ? I don’t know how much magic he’s capable of, so the least said the soonest mended, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh, I do know, Miss Ursula.”
A male voice intruded. “Vera? Miss Hursula?”
“Father!” Vera turned sharply as the blacksmith spoke behind them.
He touched his hat to Ursula as she turned quickly as well. “Miss Hursula,” he said again.
“Mr. Pedlar$.”
His glance searched their faces. “So ‘tis all astirring then?” he said.
Ursula looked at him in surprise. “You know?”
“I do now, Miss Hursula, on account of I ‘ad the darnedest dream last night. Longest dream I ever ‘ad in all my born days. So I know what ‘appened ‘ere long back, and what must ‘appen again now. The dream even told me I’d find you both ‘ere on the green, so I came to let you know I’ll be at the yew at midnight in my regalia.”
“As the Black Druid?” Ursula asked.
He nodded. “Yes, for that is my place in it all. I am meant to preside over three marriages, yours to Sir Conan, Mr. Greatorex to Eleanor Rhodes, and my Vera to that darned tick Taynton.”
Vera’s eyes filled with tears. “He isn’t a tick, truly he isn’t, Father.”
“I’ll ‘ave to be convinced of that, my girl.” The blacksmith looked at Ursula again. “But it ent all cut and dried yet, Miss Hursula. I don’t know if I’ll preside over any marriages at all, on account of Taynton ‘ave done some sorcery ... ”
“I know.”
“I can tell you that only part of it ‘ave ‘taken’.”
“You know what he’s done?” Ursula asked quickly.
“Not really, just enough to know ‘e’ve not been as thorough as ‘e thinks. ‘E’ve still done mischief though, and come midnight tonight I can’t say ‘ow many couples there’ll be beneath that there yew tree. ‘Appen three, ‘appen none at all. I’ll be ready and waitin’, though, you ‘ave my solemn vow on that.”
Vera stepped uncertainly toward him. “Father, do you forgive me now?”
He smiled. “Of course I do, you foolish little trot.”
She ran to him and flung her arms tearfully around his neck. They hugged each other tightly, then he held her gently away before walking back the way he’d come. Vera gazed after him. “I-I can hardly believe all this is happening. Miss Ursula,” she whispered.
Ursula gave her a wry smile. “You can’t? Vera, we’re all having the same trouble. Anyway, you get back to the Green Man and see that Taynton stays there, and I’ll go to the woods to see if anything exciting has been found.” She mounted Miss Muffet, and reached a hand down to Vera. “We’re going to win, I feel sure of it,” she breathed.
They clasped hands for a second, before Ursula kicked her heel and urged the mare away from the green.
* * * *
Taynton was waiting for Vera when she returned. “And where have you been?” he demanded. “There’s a stagecoach due any minute, and I’m told the mutton has boiled away to next to nothing!”
“The stagecoach is not due any minute,” she replied calmly, removing her bonnet and mantle and hanging them on the hook on the wall in his parlor. “There’s another hour yet, and I have everything in hand. You surely do not imagine I need to scurry around over one stagecoach when I’ve been preparing for the fair since last week? You’ve seen fit to grandly tell everyone in creation that there’s free food and drink to be had, but you didn’t pause to wonder where it was all going to come from, did you? There’s various cold hams I can slice for you from the pantry in the cellar, and more than sufficient other cold meats,” she replied calmly. “I’ve been preparing enough to feed the five thousand.”
“Well, I’m glad one of us is so at ease!” he snapped, then sneezed.
“Is your cold worse? Oh, and I expect your poor leg is still hurting,” she said solicitously, and put a loving hand to his cheek.
He stepped hastily back from her. “Don’t do that!”
“Do what? Here, come and sit down while I put some more balm on the bite, then I’ll make you some more rum gruel.”
He looked suspiciously at her. “What’s all this? Just before you went out you all but bit my head off!”
“Because you were being a bear. It wasn’t my fault that the kitchen almost caught fire.”
“Well, I had to shout at someone,” he replied with the infuriating thoughtlessness of so many men.
“And it’s always me you choose,” she replied tartly, almost pushing him to sit down in a comfortable armchair. Then she reached for the jar of balm from the nearby table.
Taynton sat back. He was determined to relax all he could today. It was foolish to panic too much. The gods were with him, and that was what really counted. He’d done all that was necessary, except enchant Conan Merrydown, and now he only had to wait for the witching hour. He closed his eyes as Vera massaged the balm gently into his sore calf. Oh, it felt good, he thought. Her fingers were warm and supple, and he could smell the rosemary infusion in which she had washed her hair.
He hardly noticed that the massaging had ascended from his calf to his knee, then to his thigh, then ... His eyes flew open as her fingers moved where they definitely should not be. She was leaning close to him, her brown hair tumbling forward, her soft brown eyes dark with desire, her buxom figure pressing needfully against him. “Make love to me, Master,” she whispered, and pursed her moist lips toward his.
* * * *
Ursula left Miss Muffet in the manor stables, and hurried on foot to the set, where the men had cleared the mosaic floor about half an hour earlier before returning to the manor. Conan was still there, however, and had now been joined by Theo and Eleanor, the latter having kept well out of sight while the men were present. The fully exposed floor was even larger than Ursula had thought, and quite magnificently well preserved.
Conan came toward her as soon as he saw her approaching. “Did you speak to Vera?”
“Yes.” She told them all that had happened.
“So we have our Black Druid?” Conan asked.
“So it seems.” Ursula surveyed the floor. “Have you found a clue?”
“No.”
“Oh.” She stepped gingerly onto the close-packed tesserae and tiptoed to the center, where as expected there was a likeness of Elen of the Ways. The figure had its hands cupped before it, as if holding something that was in the geometric center of the floor, but the mosaics depicting what that something was were missing. She glanced at Eleanor. “Have you any idea what was here?”
“No, because a statue of my father always stood there.”
Ursula gazed down again at the gap in the tesserae, and suddenly it seemed to her that the hole that they had left was very symmetrical. Too symmetrical to be accidental! She knelt down to scrape the earth away with her fingertips, and her eyes lit up as she realized there never had been mosaic in that particular spot. Rather, they had been set at a lower level, leaving a hexagonal indentation. She knew exactly what that indentation was for, and she turned excitedly to Conan. “Bring the chalice!”
“The chalice?”
“Yes. It is supposed to stand here.”
He brought the golden cup, and the others pressed around as she placed it in the indentation. Fifteen hundred years may have passed, but it still fitted snugly. “There!” she cried, scrambling triumphantly to her feet. “Don’t you see? It’s a huge sundial!”
“You’re right,” Conan breathed.
“And I’ll warrant that it is to be read on tomorrow morning! When the sun rises tomorrow, the shadow of the chalice will point exactly at the treasure. The valley lies almost directly from east to west, so it must be somewhere between here and Hazel Pool.”
But Theo was dismayed. “That’s all very well, but we need to defeat Taynton before midnight tonight.”
“I know,” Conan replied quietly.
“And anyway, where exactly must we dig? It must be fifty yards or more to the water, and even if we cut a trench all the way, who is to say how wide the trench should be? Two feet? Three? Six? How can we possibly do that when there are trees in the way that couldn’t possibly have been there fifteen hundred years ago? Beeches aren’t long-lived like yews!”
Conan nodded. “Precisely. The top of the chalice lid is very like an arrow, so presumably it will mark the spot very precisely, without a tree trunk confusing matters. But even if we find the very spot, who is to say that is where the treasure itself will be? Maybe we will only find another clue.”
“I always hated schoolboy treasure hunts,” Theo said wretchedly, and Eleanor smiled wanly at him.
“Do not be defeated yet, my lord,” she said gently.
Conan drew a heavy breath. “I don’t know what to do next. If the chalice only indicates another clue, that clue might be very small indeed, and we could destroy it by digging hastily. It all depends on the angle at which the sun strikes the chalice, which might have a very short shadow if there is something in the way and the sun has risen a little before it reaches here. Conversely, the shadow might be very long if there is no obstacle and the sun touches the chalice directly it appears above the eastern horizon. I fear we need to know exactly.”
Theo’s spirits were still low. “It might rain, and we won’t get a sunrise anyway! Even worse, we won’t be around to do anything because Taynton’s damned spell will work between now and then!”
“I refuse to be that much of a pessimist,” Conan replied firmly.
Theo could not be encouraged. “Well, we await your inspirational lead,” he said a little sarcastically.
Eleanor reproved him. “Do not be so ungrateful, my lord, for everyone wishes this to go well.”
Instinctively, they all turned to Conan again, and after a moment he met their gaze. “I have an idea, but I do not intend to share it.”
Ursula was alarmed. “Is it something dangerous?”
He smiled and put his hand tenderly to her cheek. “Don’t fret, my love, for I know what I’m doing. I’m going to take you back to the manor now, and then I will leave you. As for you two—” He turned to the others. “I suppose you will remain here in the woods?”
They nodded. Then Theo said, “But I think I should be with you, Conan.”
“No. I need no help for what I have in mind.”
Chapter 31
It was late afternoon, and Ursula was alone in her room at the manor. She was wearing a peach muslin gown, and her hair was tied up with a light blue ribbon. Her mother’s manuscripts were spread around her again as she tried to occupy her mind with finishing the translation of Macsen’s story.
She didn’t know where Conan had gone, or what he was doing, for he had obstinately refused to divulge what his idea entailed. Such reticence had only fueled her anxiety over his safety. Where someone like Taynton was concerned she knew it did not do to take risks. Yet that was what Conan was taking, she knew it as surely as she knew her own self. She wished her father had come home, but he had sent word from Stroud that things were so bad at Fromewell Mill that he needed to stay another night.
There seemed to be worries on all sides, each one with a doubtful outcome, and since dwelling on what might go wrong was never advisable, she forced herself to look at the manuscripts. To her astonishment, after a while she managed to concentrate sufficiently to continue writing the translation in her notebook.
The Emperor Macsen entered the castle with the two ladies, and there discovered the very scene of which he had dreamed. The maiden was more beautiful by far than he had dared to believe, and her elder cousin Kynan did indeed bow his head in resignation. Her other cousin Cadfan, however, was even more angry than Macsen had dreamed, casting the game board aside so bitterly that it broke in two. The fallen pieces were scattered to the corners of the great hall, where they turned into animals, squirrels, dogs, and horses, which all went to gather around the maiden. The High-King Eudaf Hen hid his head in his hands in sorrow as Cadfan ran from the hall, but there was nothing that could be done. Macsen was enraptured with Elen of the Ways, but still could not touch her. He learned that she would become his true bride when he married her before the Black Druid. The chosen place for the ceremony was the sacred yew, and the vows were taken as May Eve turned to May Day. Only Prince Cadfan cast a shadow over the land, for he swore to be avenged for the cruel injustice that had denied him his rightful place in line of succession. It was feared that he would roam throughout eternity, seeking his heritage, but never finding it.
There, it was finished. Ursula pushed the manuscripts aside and rose from the chair to go to the open window. The sun was warm, and the valley seemed almost hazy. She looked toward the Green Man, unable to help a sneaking sympathy for Cadfan Meriadoc, who by the standards of his day had indeed suffered a wrong. It hadn’t been his fault that Eudaf Hen decided to import a fine Roman husband for Elen of the Ways, or that Conan’s previous self had loyally stepped aside in favor of the newcomer. As far as Ursula could see, Cadfan was not entirely unjustified in resenting the abandonment of the true male line of succession. E
udaf Hen had a lot to answer for.
She stared out of the window, wishing she knew where Conan was and what he was doing. The hours were ticking relentlessly away toward the turn of May Eve to May Day, at which point anything might happen. As she looked, Bran suddenly bounded up the opposite slope of the valley toward the inn. A pang of alarm struck through her. What was happening? She wanted to go there too, but had given her word to Conan that no matter what, she would stay at the manor. The wolfhound disappeared into the inn yard, and it was all Ursula could do to honor her promise.
* * * *
At that moment Conan was lounging comfortably on a mound of hay in the stables of the Green Man. He had found a quiet corner where a knothole afforded an excellent view of the inn. So far, however, there had been no sign of Bellamy Taynton.
The reason for this was known to one and all, for the innkeeper and Vera had remained tucked away in his private quarters ever since she returned from her meeting with Ursula. The tightly drawn curtains at the window facing the yard had been the cause of much amusement among the men, and much annoyance among the kitchen staff, who seemed to be totally adrift without Vera’s confident hand to steer them. But both she and Taynton stayed where they were, regardless of what was going on elsewhere in the Green Man. A number of stagecoaches had arrived and departed, some with regular passengers who grumbled a great deal about having to wait for food that wasn’t up to the usual standard, but even then Taynton did not emerge. For the moment Conan was content to leave them, because while Cadfan Meriadoc was busying himself with the Lady Severa’s charms, he wasn’t up to mischief elsewhere!
Conan stretched and put his hands behind his head. He was sure he was on the right path with what he intended to do. It was a matter of instinct—of knowing one’s own brother. Paws pattered suddenly, and Bran was there, covering his face with licks. “Get off me, you great fool,” Conan complained, fending off the hound.
