Time's Legacy

by Barbara Erskine

  ‘Mat?’ Her voice came out thin and reedy, a whisper. Where was he? He had been standing near her with the bread knife. ‘Mat? Help me.’

  Mora was sitting miserably by herself in her small house, her eyes closed. Her father was right. She must speak to no-one, tell no-one what had occurred here, replenish her energies and her healing skills and then and only then go out once more to visit the sick, this time alone. She sighed unhappily. She was missing him more than she could have believed possible. Both of them. Yeshua and Cynan, the two men she had loved. Cynan, who was dead, who had died to save her. She pictured his face, remembered the touch of his hand, the promises they had made in the past of unswerving devotion before Yeshua had come. She had still loved Cynan and she knew he had still loved her. Had she betrayed him? Yeshua’s influence had been so strong, his personality so overwhelming, her attraction to him so powerful, had she forgotten her first love, her loyalty to a man who was prepared to die for her and for Yeshua?

  Hugging her knees she stared down into the flames. Before anything else she ought to go and see Petra. Yeshua had told her Petra still needed her. Petra, who was now healed. Petra who should be running about and dancing and laughing in the autumn sunlight, making up for the lost years of childhood. Petra who would one day, if her wish was granted, come to study here on the island with Mora. Her parents were probably still here somewhere, talking to Mora’s father about it, but she knew already he would welcome Petra with open arms to the community.

  Standing up she went to the doorway, looking down the hill towards the landing stage where two or three canoes lay tied to a post on the still, reedy waters of the mere. She could paddle over to the mainland now and walk up to the house. Why not.

  Automatically she threw her herb bag into the bottom of the boat. She smiled ruefully. Petra should have no need now of her potions and ointments. Thank God!

  She paused, letting the canoe drift gently into a patch of sedge. Thank God. She had grown used to Yeshua’s god being the only god. She glanced behind her up at the Tor. The entrance to the otherworld, the kingdom of Gwyn ap Nudd was there somewhere near the great Menhir. She had grown up with him; now she was full of doubt. Was he just a helper of the one great god, an angel who held the keys of the underworld or a god in his own right, powerful and all seeing? She smiled sadly. She would never know. Yeshua, her Yeshua would one day return to Afalon, but in spirit not in body. She had always known that. Just as she had always known that he was returning home to face certain death. She felt a warm tear run down her cheek as nearby with a steady beat of its enormous wings a single white swan angled in over the water and came to land on the glassy surface near her. Picking up the paddle she began to head once more out into the still water.

  The homestead was silent. She let herself in through the gate in the palisade and stared round, surprised. She had never known the place to be unattended. There was always someone around if not in the house then in the sheds and barns, or Sorcha’s house – a member of the family, a servant. Slaves. Farm workers. Peat cutters. She peered in at the door of the main house. The fire was out. The huge central room was deserted and shadowy. She frowned. Where was everyone? She shivered. She knew the death of Romanus had hit the entire household harder than anyone could ever imagine. The fact that almost certainly the boy had been killed by his own uncle was a blow few parents could recover from; it was almost as hard for the men and women who had known him since he was born. Her own loss, of the brave and patient Cynan was only made tolerable by the fact that the young man had been there with Romanus; neither of them had died alone.

  She ducked inside and looked round the large room. She could see Lydia’s favourite shawl, lying across the back of the oak settle. And Petra’s gaming board, the game she had so often played with her brother. Mora blinked back her tears. ‘Hello?’ She glanced towards the sleeping quarters. The curtains had been looped back, the screens left open. The bowls and plates on the sideboard were washed and clean. The fire was out. There were no dogs running round the yard outside. Nothing. The place felt dead.

  ‘Petra?’ She turned back to the doorway. ‘Is there anyone there?’ And then she saw it. The huddled figure lying against the wall.

  ‘No!’ Abi was holding the stone in her hands, the tears running down her cheeks. ‘Please, don’t make me go on.’

  ‘I think you have to, Abi,’ Justin said firmly. He was sitting across the table from her. He reached out and clasped his hands over hers.

  She glanced round the room, aware of the men seated around her, all silent, all watching. Only Kier was looking away, staring down into the fire, his hands twisting together on his lap.

  ‘Try, Abi. Just a bit more,’ Justin went on. ‘We’re nearly there. Please. You and Mora. Two priestesses, two women who heal in Jesus’ name.’

  She looked round pleadingly. They were all waiting, engrossed in the story, totally involved in their different ways with what she was telling them. She looked back into the crystal.

  ‘The house is full of shadows. She could be wrong. It could just be a bundle of rags,’ she went on, her voice shaking. ‘There is nothing to see with; no flaming torches, no candles or lamps, no firelight and it is a dark corner. She creeps closer, her heart hammering in her chest, bile rising in her throat.’ She paused and took a deep shuddering breath.

  ‘Petra?’ The voice was Mora’s now. Echoing strangely round the room, disembodied. Ghostly. ‘Petra darling, is that you?’

  Mora took another step towards the bundle. ‘Petra? Speak to me.’

  ‘Petra is speaking to no-one ever again!’ The harsh male voice behind her made her cry out in fear as she spun round. ‘Why, if it isn’t the druid healer.’ Flavius sounded surprised. ‘Yeshua’s little helper! The one, so I hear, who whisked him out from under my nose.’

  ‘You can’t have killed Petra.’ Mora’s voice was husky, barely audible. ‘No! Why?’

  ‘Why? Because she was a witness of his healing powers, that’s why. She was cured. But not very well, as it turned out. Before she died her hands were turning back to claws!’ He gave a short harsh laugh. ‘She was so suggestible, that child, so malleable!’

  She gave a cry of horror. ‘How can you be so evil?’

  ‘Easily. It is in my nature.’ He stared at her, his face devoid of expression.

  Mora’s mouth had gone dry. She felt her stomach clench with fear. He was going to kill her as well. Her gaze slipped down a fraction and she saw there was indeed a sword in his hand, half hidden in the fold of his tunic. The blade glinted in a stray ray of light from the doorway. She could see the dried smears on it which must be blood.

  ‘Why are you so afraid of Yeshua?’ she asked softly, somehow finding the courage to speak now she knew she had nothing to lose. He was going to kill her anyway. ‘Why is your Emperor so afraid of him that you have to slaughter all his friends and hide all signs of his passing?’

  He gave an infinitesimal shrug. ‘I do not question my orders. I obey them.’

  ‘And this is what makes your Empire so strong? Mindless obedience?’ She was playing for time, she didn’t know why. Who would come? No-one knew she was here. ‘But of course it is.’ A thought struck her and she felt her blood freeze. Had Lydia and Gaius returned to find him waiting for them? She met his gaze and held it. ‘And Lydia and Gaius?’ she whispered. ‘Have you killed them too? And Sorcha and the rest?’

  He smirked. ‘Most of them ran away, but not Gaius. Fool that he is. He walked in here, calling for his daughter. Happy!’ He gave a snort of derision. ‘He really thought I would not kill him because I was his brother! All these years and he had failed to realise that I was put on Earth to kill him. There was no room for two of us in my mother’s womb, and not enough air for us both to breathe when we were born. Only now, at last, am I free of him!’

  She shuddered at the sheer venom in his voice. ‘And Lydia?’ she asked bleakly. Her fear for herself seemed to have retreated onto some distant unregistered plane. />
  ‘Lydia spurned me.’ His face darkened and for a moment she thought he was going to spit on the ground.

  ‘So, you have killed them all.’ She paused, unable to speak. When at last she could find the words they were barely audible. ‘But at least they are free and together. They will not be afraid of you ever again.’ She was biting back her tears.

  Behind him she caught sight of a shadow in the doorway. He must have heard something for she saw him raise the sword. He stepped sideways out of the light, then he spun on his feet and when he lunged with his sword, it was towards her.

  ‘No!’ Abi looked up. The others, still seated round the table, were watching her in horror. ‘I can’t bear to watch.’ Tears were running down her face.

  Standing up, Justin came to her and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She sniffed, groping in her pocket for a tissue. Waves of exhaustion were sweeping over her. ‘Just five more minutes, Abi. Go back. See what happened.’

  ‘No!’ Kier stood up. ‘You can’t go on with this.’

  ‘Sit down, Kieran.’ David Paxman barely raised his voice but Kier subsided at once. ‘I think we need to know this. Whatever is happening here, it feels very real to me. We must let it run its course. Please, Abi, only a few more minutes.’

  She reached out for the stone. Her hands were shaking and her eyes tired as she peered at it. What had happened to Mora? Taking a deep breath she focused again on the cloudy, crazed surface of the crystal.

  Whose was the shadow in the doorway?

  22

  ‘Cal?’ Athena put her head in through the open back door and looked round. ‘Are you there?’

  Cal was sitting in the chair by the unlit fire, staring down at the floor.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Athena took in the scene as she came in, threw her bag down on the table and ran across to Cal, dropping on her knees beside her and taking her cold hands in her own.

  Cal looked up blindly. ‘I am so frightened.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He came. The Roman. He stood in the doorway and looked round as though he was hunting for someone. Then he came in. He had a sword. He said he had killed them all, Athena. He killed his family out there in the garden. The children, the dogs,’ her voice broke, ‘his own twin brother. All of them.’

  ‘But he didn’t hurt you or Mat.’ Athena gripped her wrists tightly.

  Cal shook her head.

  ‘So, where is Mat?’

  She shrugged. ‘He was here. He went out after him.’

  ‘Sweet goddess!’ Athena stood up and put her arm round Cal’s shoulder. ‘Tell me what happened. Exactly.’

  ‘He came in and he raised the sword.’ Tears started trickling down her cheeks ‘I was screaming for Mat.’

  ‘Where was he?’

  ‘He was here. Right beside me. He picked up the bread knife from the table there. He raised it up and stabbed at Flavius.’ She paused and took a deep breath. ‘He brought the knife down and…’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And,’ she paused and took a deep shuddering breath, ‘and there was nothing there. Flavius wasn’t there any more. He vanished.’ She swallowed hard. ‘We couldn’t move. We couldn’t breathe. For a moment it was as though everything – time itself – had been suspended, then slowly everything went back the way it was. It was just Mat and me in here. No-one else. Nothing. The dogs came out from under the chair and they started to bark.’ She gave a watery smile. ‘Hackles up. They went ballistic. Mat said he thought that meant we were safe. The kitchen door hadn’t really opened. It was still bolted.’

  For a moment they sat in silence then at last Athena spoke, her voice little more than a whisper. ‘If he killed all of the family out there, Cal, who is he hunting? Why did he come in here?’

  Cal refocused on Athena’s face. She shook her head. ‘I don’t know.

  ‘Are you sure he killed Lydia? Didn’t he love her?’

  Cal shrugged.

  ‘What about Mora, the druid priestess? Wasn’t she the one who Abi has been contacting through her stone?’

  Cal nodded. ‘Oh God, Athena, you think he was looking for Abi?’

  ‘Where is she?’

  Cal swallowed hard. ‘She’s gone with Justin. To Ty Mawr.’

  ‘That’s sensible. She’ll be safe with him.’

  ‘Will she?’ Cal threw herself down in a chair and clasped her hands on the table in front of her. They were still shaking.

  Athena nodded. ‘She will. She has to be.’ She reached for the kettle and plugged it in, glancing at the door. ‘Where are the dogs now? Did they go with Mat?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Cal gave a wan smile. ‘Don’t open the door!’ she called as Athena turned towards it.

  ‘He’s gone, Cal. Your Roman has gone,’ Athena said. She sounded, she realised, a lot braver than she felt. ‘After all, I didn’t see him when I came in. I’m going to call Mat. He can’t have gone far.’

  He hadn’t. He reappeared almost at once, his face white, the bread knife still clutched in his hand. ‘I wish Ben was here,’ he said, throwing it down. He had bolted the door behind him again. ‘I wish everyone was here!’

  ‘He’s gone for now,’ Cal said at last. She didn’t point out that a bolted door had not kept Flavius out. ‘The dogs will know if he comes back before we see him.’

  ‘And if he does?’

  ‘Perhaps by then the others will be back. At least he knows now that Abi isn’t here.’

  ‘But why should he be after Abi?’ Athena put in.

  ‘Because Abi has the stone? Because Abi can tell the story? Because she can tell the world what a shit he is?’

  ‘And you don’t think he will follow her and the stone to Wales?’

  ‘If he does, at least she isn’t there on her own,’ Cal said after a minute. ‘The others must have got there by now. They are all there. Kier followed them. They rang and told us he was outside the cottage. Ben went after them with the bishop and the bishop’s chaplain and another man called Greg who’s an exorcist.’

  Athena stared at her. For a moment her face registered horror then slowly the corners of her mouth started to twitch. ‘You are telling me that, what, three vicars and a bishop are on their way to Justin’s house? Our Justin. Druid Justin?’

  Cal nodded. After a moment she started shakily to smile as well. ‘I would like to be a fly on the wall, wouldn’t you?’

  Athena nodded. ‘Indeed I would,’ she said slowly.

  ‘Give it to me.’ Kier had risen from his chair and moved stiffly towards the table. He reached out for the crystal. ‘I’m going to help her.’

  ‘No!’ David Paxman stood up and reached across the table to intercept his outstretched hand but he was too late. Kier picked up the Serpent Stone and turning back to his chair by the fire, subsided once more, clutching the stone between his hands. There was silence in the room.

  Abi turned to Justin in appeal but he shook his head and put his finger to his lips, watching Kier’s face. Ben had risen to his feet anxiously, but Greg put out his hand and pulled him down into his chair. ‘Wait,’ he whispered. ‘See what happens.’

  Mora was clutching her side. She could feel the hot blood welling up between her fingers, cooling, turning sticky. In front of her Flavius had stepped back towards the empty fire pit, moving quietly, on his toes, his eyes fixed on the doorway where the shadow of the man hovered, just out of view, the silhouette thrown, strangely distorted by the sunlight outside onto the wall.

  ‘In the name of Jesus Christ, come out!’ The disembodied voice echoed strangely in the shadows of the house.

  Mora shrank back. The silhouette had straightened. The shadow figure outstretched a hand and she could see the shape of a cross thrown slantwise across the wall. He was holding something. Was it a reversed dagger? Crossed sticks?

  Flavius shifted the grip on his blade and moved, light as a cat on his feet to the far side of the fire from where he could see out of the doorway. She saw his face tense, his concentra
tion absolute as he looked from side to side. For a moment he hesitated and she saw a flicker of puzzlement as he crept closer. ‘Who is there?’ She heard him mutter the words as she slipped lower onto the ground. Her strength was going, her mouth dry. She could only watch as he moved again. He had reached the door and carefully, back to the wall, he peered outside. ‘Nothing!’ She heard the sneer in the words. ‘A dream.’ He moved outside, out of the shadows and she saw the light fall across his face. Then, ‘Who are you?’

  Again the voice, further away this time. ‘Jesus Christ is here. He will save these women. He loved them.’

  Mora could hear the blood pounding in her ears. She was struggling for breath. ‘Yeshua,’ she murmured. ‘Save Petra. Save me. I can’t do it alone without you.’ She could see the shadow growing larger. There was someone out there.

  ‘Who in Hades are you?’ Flavius’ voice rang out, sharp with fear, then she heard him scream.

  As she subsided into unconsciousness she heard quick light footsteps running towards her and Lydia’s voice, gentle in her head. ‘Hold on Mora. I am here, my dear. Hold on.’

  ‘Kier?’ The silence in the room had lasted for several long seconds before Ben rose to his feet again. ‘Are you all right?’

  Kier had fallen back in his chair. The stone had rolled from his hands onto the floor, falling onto the hearth rug where it lay inert, the crystal faces gently reflecting the flicker of the flames from the fire. Ben moved towards him and took his arm, shaking him gently. ‘Kier?’

  Greg stood up. He walked over and stood for a moment looking down at him with a frown, then he reached out and put his hand to Kier’s throat, pressing his two forefingers below the jaw. ‘His pulse is steady.’

  ‘Thank God!’ Ben glanced up at him. ‘For a moment, I thought the worst…’