Time's Legacy

by Barbara Erskine

  ‘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.

  17

  Kier had bought an Ordnance Survey map of the area and taken it to what was rapidly becoming his favourite coffee shop. Opening it on the table, he carefully folded it open at the right place and began to study the terrain. The only hard part of his scheme would be to lure her away from her companions, and already he had had an idea how to do that. Finishing the coffee, he asked the waitress where he could find the nearest electrical shop.

  Only an hour later he was driving back towards Glastonbury, heading once more for the abbey car park.

  ‘I phoned Bishop David last night, Abi.’ Ben bent to throw another log onto his study fire. Janet had already brought them coffee. There were two slices of cake as well this time, Abi noticed. Did that mean she had been in some way promoted on the scale of acceptance? ‘We had a long chat about Kier. Did you realise he went back to see the bishop last week?’

  Abi nodded with a shrug. ‘He told me he’d spoken to him again. I didn’t really take it in.’

  ‘I don’t think I’m betraying any confidences in saying to you that David is very concerned for you. He was horrified to hear that Kier was here again. He had specifically forbidden him to go near you.’

  ‘And the first thing he did was come back and look for me.’ Abi felt her stomach clench with apprehension merely at the sound of the man’s name.

  Ben nodded. ‘We wondered if it was safe for you to stay where you are. You are a sitting target there, Abi. He knows the house now. He knows how to get in, he knows where you go.’

  ‘What does David think he is going to do to me?’ She picked up her cup and realised that her hands were shaking.

  ‘He doesn’t think Kier would hurt you.’ Ben walked restlessly up and down in front of the fire a couple of times, then he subsided into the chair opposite hers. ‘Kier is contrite, and too horrified by the fact that he laid hands on you before. We both feel that he means you well. He is genuinely frightened at the thought of the contact you are making with a spirit world. It is that which he finds terrifying and evil.’

  ‘You don’t agree with him about that?’ She looked up anxiously.

  He shook his head. ‘No, of course not.’ She heard the qualification in his voice. ‘Although I think you should be wary of what is happening. We discussed that as well.’ He leaned forward, his eyes on her face. She saw nothing but kindness there, but there was also a hint of anxiety. ‘We do both however feel you need to be far more cautious than I think you are. You are dealing with a people from a pagan age. People whose beliefs and practices were unpredictable. You are dealing with a pre-Christian era. I know,’ he held up his hand as she opened her mouth to protest, ‘I know that you feel you are watching Our Lord when he visited this country. I know it is a distinct possibility. But it is also possible, Abi, that you are watching a demon in disguise. A phantasm. Something directed specifically against you as a Christian priest.’

  Abi stared at him. ‘No, Ben.’

  ‘In all the years the ghosts of Woodley have been recorded, I don’t think there has ever been a mention of the man you
call Yeshua.’

  ‘But he came with Mora to see them. She was a healer from Glastonbury. From the druid college there.’

  ‘We don’t even know if there was a druid college there, Abi. Not for certain.’

  She stared at him in dismay. ‘But I thought…There was a ceremonial way. The Chalice Well was a pre-Christian sacred spring. The Tor was the centre of a sacred landscape. I’ve read about it. It was sacred to the cult of Gwyn ap Nudd.’

  ‘A pagan Celtic god.’ He sighed. ‘The ghosts of Woodley have all been Roman, Abi.’

  ‘Until I brought my crystal down here.’

  He shrugged. For a moment he said nothing. He reached for his cup and sipped the coffee appreciatively. Janet had made it rich and strong and spicy.

  ‘I thought you were on my side,’ Abi said at last. It sounded childish even as she said it.

  ‘We are not taking sides, Abi. And we are not understating the problem of Kier, I promise you. That is why I am saying that you should be very wary. That you must test your contact with the other world which surrounds you. That you must allow people to have doubts and have doubts yourself. Question the stories. For instance you mention Jesus meditating at the red spring, which you feel is the Chalice Well, but that was not the only one. There was a white spring too near it; it’s still there. And what about St Joseph’s well in the abbey, which is under the Lady Chapel, and the holy well of St Edmund, for many centuries that was the most sacred spring of all?’

  ‘But none of that proves anything,’ she said weakly. ‘Just that he, or they, preferred the one place.’

  ‘I think it proves you are being influenced by modern legend.’

  ‘No!’ She shook her head violently. ‘No. What I am seeing is real.’