Out of the Dawn Light

by Alys Clare

  Sibert made him wait. He picked up some bread and hacked off a slice of ham, dipping it in the little pot of pickle. He took a huge bite, chewed vigorously and then through the food, said, ‘Lassair, have some, it’s delicious.’

  ‘Sibert, I—’ Romain began. He felt the blood surge into his face. He was on the verge of losing control.

  ‘It’s all right, Romain,’ the girl said. She had been eyeing him apprehensively and he wondered wryly if she feared for his health if he was made to wait in his agony of suspense much longer. ‘Sibert’s done it. He knows where the search must be carried out.’

  Romain flung himself on the boy, hugging him and slapping him on the back. ‘I knew you could do it!’ he cried. ‘Didn’t I say so?’

  ‘Yes, Romain, you did,’ Sibert acknowledged.

  He stood up again, surprised that they did not instantly do the same. ‘Come on, then!’ he said excitedly. ‘What are we waiting for?’

  Sibert indicated the calm, silvery sea with the last portion of his bread and ham. ‘The tide.’

  Romain looked out to where he was pointing. The new shoreline was already deep in shingle and the waves washing to and fro made a soft, hypnotic sound. There were at present some ten or twenty paces of exposed foreshore, littered with slabs of stone, pieces of tile, fragments of planking, beams and bolts of wood. It was not that long since the sea had swallowed its latest meal and the remnants were still being spat out. Beyond the foreshore a vague, circular shape was slowly appearing and suddenly Romain understood.

  ‘You mean – you’re saying it’s there?’ he asked in a whisper. ‘Under the sea?’

  ‘Under the sea now, yes,’ Sibert agreed, calmly helping himself to more bread and a chunk of cheese. ‘When the tide has gone out, it ought to be exposed. At least,’ he added cheerfully, ‘it might.’ He chewed reflectively for a while. ‘Otherwise, it’ll all depend on how long Lassair can hold her breath.’

  They waited. The sun reached its zenith and began the long, slow descent into the west. Slowly, steadily, the sea fell back and the outline of the timber circle became clearer. At last Romain could contain himself no longer; he felt as if his blood was fizzing and frothing in his veins and he was light-headed and slightly nauseous.

  He stood up, his head spinning. ‘We’re going down there,’ he said decisively, fighting the vertigo. ‘Come on.’

  Giving his companions no time to protest, he led them away. The cliff was less than a man’s height here, the ground soft and crumbly. There was a place nearby where a stream must once have cut its way down through the newly exposed soil, and they paused to inspect its now bone-dry course. It would be easier to go that way than trying to drop straight down the cliff. Low it might be, but all the same an awkward fall could have broken an ankle. Romain went first, turning to hold out a hand to the girl, but with a faint shake of her head she declined his help and scrambled down on her own, jumping the last few feet and landing neatly like a cat. Sibert followed, sliding on his backside and setting off a small avalanche of earth and pebbles.

  The cliff, Romain reflected anxiously, was indeed deeply unstable . . .

  They struck out across the spoil from the cliff and presently it gave way to shingle. Romain, his eyes fixed on the strange circle of ancient timbers straight ahead of him, worn by time to stark fragments, hardly noticed when he reached the first of the little pools left behind by the retreating tide. Soon his boots were soaked and he felt the sharp sting as salt water found the raw skin under his burst blister.

  Now he was intent on the peculiar upturned tree stump that, with a vague sense of menace, squatted in the middle of the timber circle. Its roots were spread wide, held up to the summer sky like arms reaching out in supplication. A sudden huge shiver ran through him, all the way from his head to his toes. It had nothing to do with the chill of the water now surging around his ankles; it was fear, pure and simple. We should not be here, he thought. It is a forbidden place and there is danger lurking.

  It seemed to him as he splashed through the shallow waves that all at once the bright sun faded. Looking up in alarm, expecting to see a black storm cloud coming up against the wind, he was amazed to see that the sky was still clear, undisturbed blue.

  But he was in shadow; he knew it.

  Another shiver ran through him. Get away, a voice seemed to whisper inside his head. Go, while you still can.

  He stopped dead.

  Sibert came up behind him, panting. ‘What is it?’ he demanded. ‘We should hurry – we’ve left it too late and I think the tide’s turning.’

  Romain looked up. Was Sibert right? He did not know. But the sea seemed to be pushing hard against his legs. Then his mission and its vital importance broke through the enchantment and he said roughly, ‘Come, then.’

  He waded inside the timber circle.

  Sibert was right beside him. The girl, hampered by having to hold up her long skirts, was still several paces behind.

  Romain made himself wait in silence. Sibert stood quite still, looking around him. He was sensing the place, Romain thought. He would not necessarily know straight away where to tell the girl to start looking. He would probably have to poke around and find the most likely area within the circle. And what of her? Romain shot a surreptitious glance at the girl, whose face was white and set. How close did she have to be to an object before she could pick up its presence?

  So many questions, he thought in frustration. And all he could do was wait for the other two to act. Impotent, he clenched his hands into fists.

  Sibert was walking around the circle, stopping by each ruined timber post to push his hands down under the rapidly deepening water. Romain watched him, aching to order him to hurry up. Then Sibert went to the upturned stump. Now he knelt down in the water, leaning forward and supporting himself on one hand while with the other he explored the gnarled and sodden surface of the tree that had died in another age of the world.

  His frown of concentration was suddenly replaced by a different expression.

  ‘What is it?’ Romain cried, hurrying to crouch beside him, sending up a wash that drenched Sibert to the waist. With a curse, Sibert straightened up, scowling at Romain.

  ‘You’ve soaked me!’ he complained.

  ‘What did you find?’ Romain shouted. ‘Have you got it?’

  But Sibert shook his head. ‘No. I had something, though, or I thought I had. There was – I don’t know how to describe it. I was feeling down the tree trunk and I found a line that felt as if it was too straight to be natural. I was trying to see if it could be the outline of a recess of some sort when you came over and now’ – he was once more feeling about beneath the water – ‘now I’ve lost it.’ He sent Romain an accusatory glare.

  Romain wasted no time on apology or recrimination. Spinning round, he called to the girl. She was standing outside the timber circle and she had her back to him. He thought for a moment that she was moving away, but that couldn’t have been right. ‘Come here and see if you can detect anything,’ he called urgently. ‘Over here, on this side of the stump. Sibert thinks there may be a hidden opening and—’

  She turned round and he saw her face.

  It was deadly pale, and the grey-green eyes that had turned to silver in the light off the water were wide with fear. ‘We cannot stay here,’ she said, her voice an anguished whisper as if it were vital that nobody overheard. ‘There is death here and we are in its shadow.’

  He heard her words, which so faithfully echoed what he had sensed only moments before, in a kind of numb horror.

  Death. Shadow.

  But the thing I have come to find is almost within my grasp!

  ‘We must go on looking!’ he shouted. He lunged towards her, intent on grabbing her and forcing her inside the circle. She saw what he was going to do and, turning, splashed back towards the shore, skirts trailing in the water. Romain went to go after her but then a sudden very cold wind blasted out of the east and with it the speed of the incoming tide picke
d up alarmingly.

  Sibert was at his side, and he had a firm grip on Romain’s sleeve. ‘I don’t want to drown even if you do!’ he yelled. ‘It’s madness to stay out here – we’ll be out of our depth very soon and there’s already a vicious current pulling at our legs. Hurry!’

  Still Romain pulled against him, drawn to that unearthly stump and whatever it held inside itself as if it had cast a monstrous, invisible net over him and was slowly drawing him in.

  Another powerful wave hit him in the back of the legs and he would have fallen but for Sibert holding him up. Salt water splashed up into his face and went up his nose and into his open, gasping mouth. Coughing, choking on the harsh brine, at last he allowed Sibert to drag him away.

  The first attempt had failed.

  TEN

  I think it was that evening, as we sat round a driftwood fire and tried to dry our soaked boots and clothing, that what I had worked out ages ago first really dawned on Sibert.

  Which, very simply was this. Romain, Sibert and I were all vital to this mission, Romain because it was he who had found out about the hidden thing, Sibert because he knew where it was concealed and I because my particular skill would allow me to locate lost objects. I had been naive and had omitted to agree a fair recompense for my trouble; it had been enough, when Romain approached me, that I would be escaping from my sister for a while and going off on an adventure with two young men, both of whom I liked quite a lot and one of whom I was really attracted to.

  What terms had Sibert agreed?

  Unless this treasure was easily divisible – which I seriously doubted since all along it had been referred to in the singular as an object – then only one of them could have it. Romain had been forced to admit I was right when I’d said he planned to use the treasure to buy himself back into royal favour, so it was possible he intended to sell it and give Sibert a share of the proceeds, reserving the rest for his own purpose. I wanted to believe it but I could not make myself. It really wasn’t very likely because the king probably had plenty of money already but it wasn’t every day an abject subject came grovelling to be pardoned for his father’s sin with an object of power in his hands . . .

  No. If I was right – and every instinct was shouting out to me that I was – then Romain had no intention of sharing the treasure with anybody. He would allow me and Sibert to find it for him and then at best he would offer us something for our trouble. At worst, he would betray us and desert us and we would never see either him or the treasure ever again.

  I had worked out this truth long since and I was biding my time, not sure yet what I ought to do. Now, as we sat digesting what I have to admit was a pretty decent meal accompanied by the great luxury of smooth red wine, watching dreamily as the steam rose off our drying garments, I sensed that Sibert was at last realizing it too.

  He shifted around for a while and I felt that he was wondering whether or not to raise the matter and, if he did, what he should say. Eventually, staring at Romain with an angry frown on his face, he opened his mouth to speak.

  And in that instant I knew that he must not. Something was telling me urgently that this was not the moment. I did not wait to try to work it out but instead coughed loudly to cover Sibert’s first words and at the same time kicked him hard on the shin.

  ‘Ouch!’ he exclaimed, rubbing at his leg. ‘What did you do that for?’ Now he was glaring at me.

  ‘Cramp,’ I said shortly. ‘Sorry.’

  While he was still frowning at me I mouthed, ‘Not now!’ and, thankfully, he seemed to understand.

  I lay back, the tension seeping out of me. I had obeyed the inner warning without hesitation, partly because I trust my own instincts, which usually do not let me down, but also because of what I had sensed as I approached the sea sanctuary. There was such a sense of threat out there that I had wondered that Romain and Sibert had kept on their feet; as for me, I was so beaten back by the silent power emanating out of it that I couldn’t have gone on even if they’d dragged me. And I was so afraid. I knew that the sea was angry, for I could hear crashing waves like marauding ships breaking out there on the waterline. The wind was angry too, blowing straight out of the east. From somewhere – perhaps within the timber circle itself – there had come a low, forceful, unearthly sound that I could not begin to identify. But then I had recalled the name of this place: Drakelow.

  I was hearing the muffled boom of the dragon . . .

  I was not only afraid for myself, although in truth that fear was more than enough to cope with. I had seen a dark cloud over Romain. As it billowed and waxed right above his head I recalled my granny’s words: He walks in the shadow of death.

  Was this what she had seen? All those months ago in Aelf Fen when she stared at Romain, had her more practised eyes detected what was hidden to me until today? I did not know, but I strongly suspected it.

  I liked Romain. Oh, more than that; despite the fact that I was fairly certain he intended to cheat Sibert out of a share of the treasure, I was drawn to him powerfully. In my foolish heart I still entertained the fanciful, optimistic hope that if and when I succeeded in bringing off what he wanted of me, he would stop treating me like an anonymous child and see me for the alluring and fascinating woman I was.

  Some hope.

  I was faced with a dilemma. My only – and very slim – chance of making Romain see me with new eyes involved my steeling myself to go back out to that terrifying timber circle and find the treasure. But I was afraid of the circle’s power and I also knew it was very dangerous for Romain. I could not bring myself to admit that I believed it would bring about his death; my mind kept hedging away from that. And I might be wrong . . .

  So, was I to do what I knew I should, and try to persuade Romain to give up the whole venture – finding the thing, giving it to the king, winning back the royal favour and with it his forefathers’ home – and slip away to the safety of whatever refuge he had found for himself? Or did I curl up like a frightened little animal and, when Romain deemed it was time to try again, meekly do what I was told?

  I might be wrong, I reminded myself. And the rosy, pink-tinted daydream spotted its chance and slipped back seductively into my mind. I was in a beautiful velvet gown in a sea-green shade that brought out the colour of my eyes and on my head I wore a precious gold circlet. I strolled in a beautiful garden scented with pinks and roses and, beside me, lovingly holding my hand, walked my husband. He was broad-shouldered and very handsome, dressed like me in new finery, and behind us was our home. The home was Drakelow and the husband was Romain.

  I can see now that my fantasy was childish and quite unrealistic. I couldn’t make myself see it then.

  Presently we settled down to sleep.

  I was wakened by a soft whisper in my ear and a firm hand over my mouth.

  ‘It’s me,’ Sibert hissed. ‘Don’t make a sound.’

  Again I crawled after him out of the place in which we were sleeping. Again we crept away until we could speak without waking Romain.

  ‘What is it this time?’ I asked resignedly.

  I truly had no inkling!

  He said, ‘Dawn is close. The tide is almost at its lowest point and the water is well clear of the sea sanctuary. It’s gone quite a lot further out than it did yesterday afternoon. Let’s go.’

  ‘Wait.’ I spoke the single word so sharply that he did.

  ‘What?’ he demanded.

  ‘It’s dangerous,’ I said. It was pretty feeble but I had just been shocked out of sleep and I wasn’t at my best.

  ‘It’s not,’ he countered. ‘Weren’t you listening? I just said the tide’s a lot further out this time. The sand around the circle’s virtually dry.’

  He had to be exaggerating. What about all those pools we’d splashed through when we made the previous attempt? Some of them were pretty deep. I was far more wary of the main enemy, however. ‘But the sea comes back in so quickly,’ I protested, ‘and we might get caught unawares.’

  ‘W
e won’t.’ He grabbed my hand and we hurried over to the dry stream bed, trying to wriggle down without dislodging too many stones whose rattling fall might disturb Romain.

  Romain . . .

  Suddenly I was eager, willing to overcome my instinctive fear of the sea sanctuary and what it contained. Now it was I who was urging Sibert, running down the long shore and into the slowly paling eastern sky in pursuit of the retreating tide. For I had just thought this: if Sibert and I succeeded, we could slip away in the night with the treasure. Romain would know nothing about until he woke and by then we would be long gone.

  His involvement with the sanctuary and what it contained would be over and perhaps – I was almost sure – that would mean the shadow of death would no longer hover above him and he would not have to die.

  My actions tonight might well save his life.

  We had reached the timber circle. I was shaking, once again cowering before its force. The low booming had begun again, louder than before. Now whatever power was making the eerie sound had eyes as well as a voice, for the tingling and prickling on my skin told me I was being watched. Somewhere out there in the pinkish, unearthly light, something was aware of us. Sibert looked pale and scared. I wondered if he too heard the sound and felt the eyes . . .

  ‘We have to do this,’ I said. My teeth chattered with fear.

  ‘I know.’ He sounded no less terrified.

  I don’t know who made the first move but suddenly we were holding hands. I’m sure it was as much of a comfort to him as it was to me. He stepped up to the upturned stump and crouched down. Letting go of my hand, he put his fingers on the exposed trunk, just above where it disappeared under the sand. This time, it was almost clear of water and as I stared I thought I could make out what he had felt: a sort of line that seemed to have been cut into the wood.

  ‘I think,’ he said, ‘that it might be time to see what you can pick up.’

  Of course it was; that time had come quite a lot earlier, only I had been too awed by the sanctuary – too terrified of it, if I am honest – to act. Now I knew I had no choice.