by Iris Gower
Table of Contents
Cover
About the Author
Also by Iris Gower
Firebird
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Iris Gower was born in Swansea to an army family. Married early, she was a mother of four and a well-published author by the time she was in her mid-twenties. She lives in Swansea with her husband, in a house on top of a Welsh hill facing the sea she loves. Iris Gower wrote the libretto and lyrics for a new musical, Copper Kingdom, which was first staged in 1995. She is the author of the highly successful Sweyn’s Eye and Cordwainers series. Firebird is the first novel in her exciting new series and the second novel in the series, Dream Catcher, is now available from Bantam Press.
Also by Iris Gower
COPPER KINGDOM
PROUD MARY
SPINNERS’ WHARF
BLACK GOLD
THE LOVES OF CATRIN
THE SHOEMAKER’S DAUGHTER
THE OYSTER CATCHERS
HONEY’S FARM
ARIAN
SEA MISTRESS
THE WILD SEED
and published by Corgi Books
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Epub ISBN: 9781407083438
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FIREBIRD
A CORGI BOOK: 0 552 14447 9
Originally published in Great Britain by Bantam Press,
a division of Transworld Publishers Ltd
PRINTING HISTORY
Bantam Press edition published 1997
Corgi edition published 1998
Copyright © Iris Gower 1997
The right of Iris Gower to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All of the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Condition of Sale
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than
that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Set in 11/12pt Plantin by Falcon Oast Graphic Art
Corgi Books are published by Transworld Publishers Ltd,
61–63 Uxbridge Road, London W5 5SA,
in Australia by Transworld Publishers (Australia) Pty Ltd,
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and in New Zealand by Transworld Publishers (NZ) Ltd,
3 William Pickering Drive, Albany, Auckland.
Reproduced, printed and bound in Great Britain by
Cox & Wyman Ltd, Reading, Berks.
To my parents, William and
Wilhelmina, with love
CHAPTER ONE
Her legs ached. Her feet had been turning the wheel for hours, fashioning the large jugs and bowls for which the Savage Pottery had become known.
Llinos Savage rubbed her eyes and listened to the cheerful voices of the young boys outside the bottle kilns. The apprentices were stacking pots ready to be biscuit fired. She envied them, they were so carefree.
The row of pots on the table before her wavered in the waning light. The smell of oxide, mingled with the metallic aroma of black lead, lay heavy on the air.
Llinos climbed down from her seat, running her hands over the pitted wood of the wheel. It had been specially designed for her by her father when he had last been home on leave. A few months later came the devastating news that he was missing believed killed. Llinos had never quite believed it to be true. He was such a big man in every way and the memory of him was still sharp.
She sighed. The fortunes of the Savage Pottery had gone downhill since then. Jeremiah, the man her father had left in charge, had quarrelled with her mother over wages. He had quit his job and Gwen had decided to save money by not looking for a replacement.
Llinos watched as Binnie Dundee lifted a jug and dipped it into a bowl of brownish liquid, the warm red of the earthenware vessel gradually changing to black. Binnie caught her eye and frowned.
‘You look tired, better call it a day.’
One of the candles on a shelf above Llinos’s head flickered and died and the aroma of tallow momentarily overrode the other smells.
‘I suppose so.’ Llinos swallowed the fear that the thought of returning home aroused in her. He would be there, the man who thought he could take her father’s place.
Llinos shivered as she placed some pots in the saggar ready for the final firing.
‘Take these over to the ovens, Binnie,’ she said. He rubbed at his hands with a rag and sighed heavily; his eyes were shadowed and Llinos felt a warm rush of gratitude for his loyalty.
Binnie was older than she by several years. He had been taken on at the pottery when he was little more than a child. And he had stayed when most of the more experienced workers began to drift away to find more secure employment.
He opened the door and stepped outside and a cold draught wrapped itself around Llinos’s ankles. She snuffed out the rest of the candles and darkness folded in on her. She did not like the dark. Even though she was growing into womanhood, she was still afraid of shadows.
She left the shed and as she crossed the yard, she felt the crispness of frost in the grass beneath her feet. She rubbed at her arms, suddenly aware that she was aching.
‘Darro, Llinos, come as yourself! I thought you was a little ghost there.’ Ben Carpenter was just leaving the yard. He stood in the gateway and looked back at her. She smiled at him, he was an old man now but like Binnie he had remained loyal to her.
‘Sorry, Ben, did I startle you?’
‘Too royal you did. Look, Miss Llinos, you shouldn’t be working like this, it’s too much for you.’
‘Anything’s better than being in the house with him,’ Llinos said softly.
‘I know what you mean.’ Ben retraced his steps and rested his hand on her shoulder. ‘Young you may be but you’re a good judge of character. Pity Mrs Savage didn’t have some of your good sense.’
Llinos watched as Ben left the yard. ‘Yes, a great pity,’ she said. Behind her, she could hear the voices of the apprentices. They were laughing and she felt suddenly lo
nely. Now the boys lodged in a small outbuilding at the far end of the yard. In the past, they had shared a room in the Pottery House but the arrival of Mr Cimla had put a stop to that.
Llinos turned as she heard a light footfall behind her.
‘Wonder if your mam will make us supper tonight?’ Watt Bevan was the youngest of the apprentices. His job was to clear away the rubbish, the bits of clay left from the potting. Watt rubbed at his thin stomach. ‘I’m starving.’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Llinos said. ‘It will be all right if Mr Cimla’s in a good mood.’
Watt sighed. ‘Why did your mam have to take up with ’im, we was all right on our own.’
‘What we can’t change we have to put up with.’ Llinos rubbed Watt’s hair, which was thick with clay dust.
Binnie came out of the shadows and stood beside her.
‘Speaking for myself, I’d like to kill the bastard,’ he said quietly. ‘And if he lays a hand on any of us again, I might just well let him have it.’
Llinos tried to assess Binnie’s chances against Mr Cimla and shook her head. Bert Cimla was big of shoulder, a handsome man but going to seed now that he was enjoying an idle life. He indulged himself in food and ale that he never thought to pay for.
‘I’m going indoors. If I can, I’ll bring you some bread and cheese.’
‘Look out for the rats.’ Binnie’s smile did not reach his eyes. ‘Especially one that goes by the name of Mr Cimla.’
Pottery Row stood on the flat lands beside the river Tawe. As its name suggested, it comprised a short row of houses that ended in a high wall. Behind the wall huddled a group of pottery buildings. A mill house with the wheel turning rose above a trio of pot-bellied kilns. And on a clear night, the glow of the fires lit up the sky.
A little lower on the river bank stood the more flourishing Tawe Pottery belonging to Philip Morton-Edwards. The family were rich, influential, solid citizens of Swansea. At the Tawe Pottery, experiments were being made into the production of a fine porcelain body. If the experiments were successful, the Tawe porcelain would grace the finest homes throughout England and Wales.
Llinos began to walk resolutely towards the house. It was pointless trying to delay the moment when she would come face to face with Bert Cimla. Gwen Savage had met the man only a few short weeks before. She was besotted by him and had allowed him to come calling on her almost at once. Tongues had not stopped wagging ever since.
The doorway of the house was ajar and Llinos stood for a moment silhouetted in the light of the moon. The hallway was in darkness. One candle gleamed high up on the curve of the stairs, shedding a dim light. Llinos made her way towards the sitting-room; with luck there would be a good fire burning in the grate. She rubbed her chilled hands together anticipating the warmth. She paused as she heard a sound from the dining-room.
Reluctantly, Llinos made her way along the passage. The smell of ale grew stronger as she approached the dining-room door and her heart sank. Mr Cimla had been drinking. As she opened the door, Llinos saw her mother’s face, smiling as she leant towards Mr Cimla, hanging on his every word. She glanced at her daughter and frowned.
‘Llinos, have you finished work already?’
‘It’s very late, Mother.’ She sat down at the table, avoiding looking at Mr Cimla, who was sprawled in her father’s chair, a tankard of ale marking the polished oak of the table.
‘Well, Miss Savage, what have you been up to then?’ His tone was honeyed. Llinos did not look at him and she delayed replying to his question for as long as she dared.
‘I have been working, as usual.’
‘I thought I saw you dawdling with the young apprentices.’ He leant forward and she hesitated, looking directly at him for the first time. ‘That’s right, I promised the boys some supper.’
‘Supper?’
‘Yes, supper. They’ve been working hard, they must be as hungry as I am.’
‘But, my dear, you are the daughter of the house, those boys are just poor folk.’ Mr Cimla spoke in kindly tones but Llinos had seen the sudden gleam of dislike in his eyes.
‘That doesn’t make them less hungry than I am.’
‘Tut, backchatting your elders, that’s not nice, is it?’
‘Look, Llinos,’ her mother intervened. ‘Take a jug of soup and some bread to the boys in the outhouse. Have your food with them, if you like.’
Llinos nodded, grateful for the excuse to get away from the claustrophobic atmosphere of the dining-room.
As she carried the tray of food along the passage towards the yard, Llinos heard Mr Cimla remonstrating with her mother.
‘You spoil that girl, Gwenie, darling. A little discipline would not come amiss.’
Llinos resisted the temptation to kick the door shut with her foot. Mr Cimla should have been out of the house by nightfall; he seemed to be unaware that he would be compromising her mother by his rash behaviour. Especially now that the last of the servants had left, tired of empty promises of payment of their wages.
‘Oh, boy!’ Watt looked up at Llinos as she entered the big, roomy outhouse where the apprentices slept. ‘Supper!’
‘Give that to me.’ Binnie relieved her of the heavy tray and placed it on a stool. He rubbed at the red marks on her arms. ‘You should have called me, the tray’s too heavy for you.’
‘I’m all right, don’t worry so much.’
‘Who’s worrying? Where are the bowls?’
‘Mam was too busy getting rid of me to think of bowls.’ Llinos smiled. ‘Go and get some from the china we’ve packed ready for market day.’
‘Are you sure?’ Binnie hesitated.
‘I’m sure, we can wash them and put them back when we’ve finished.’
‘I’ll go.’ Watt moved over to the corner where the finished china was stacked in baskets. He lifted a pile of plates, balancing them on one arm while he tried to locate the bowls.
Llinos saw what was about to happen and she held out her hands as though to ward off the disaster. But it was too late. Slowly, the plates slid away from the pile, crashing one by one onto the stone floor. Almost immediately the door opened and Mr Cimla looked in, his face dark in the candle light.
‘I just knew something was going on in here.’
Llinos stood looking at him, her hands on her thin hips. Suddenly, she was so angry that she could not think straight.
‘It’s because of you we are reduced to eating like beggars. How dare you interfere? What business is it of yours if I choose to break all the dishes in the pottery? It’s my inheritance or have you forgotten?’
He smiled scornfully. ‘You’re only a bit of a kid! Your inheritance indeed, you don’t know what you are talking about.’ He turned to leave but the tone of command in her voice stopped him.
‘While you are here, I have something to say to you.’ She paused. ‘It’s not a year since we received news of my father’s death. Mother is in mourning and it’s not proper for you to come at such an hour. Have you no sense of propriety?’
‘For your information, madam, I was just about to leave for home.’ He moved into the building and closed the door behind him. Llinos stepped back, frightened by the look on the man’s face.
‘Just as well I was,’ he continued. ‘It seems you have been playing high jinks with the apprentices and you have the gall to talk to me about propriety. Look at the mess in here.’
‘It was an accident,’ Llinos said, staring at him, wondering what her mother saw in him. ‘Please leave.’
Mr Cimla paced across the floor with deliberate steps, his eyes never leaving her face. He looked down at the broken plates, at the shards of pottery strewn around the baskets, and shook his head.
‘This is a wicked deed. Someone has to be punished for it.’ He jerked his head towards the apprentices. ‘You, out!’
Watt slid along the wall and edged past Mr Cimla, his eyes wide with fear. The other two youngsters followed him. Only Binnie stood his ground.
‘I s
aid out!’ Mr Cimla repeated. Binnie lowered his eyes and slowly walked towards the door.
‘Now, Miss High-and-Mighty Savage, I think it’s about time you and I understood each other.’
He caught her arm and Llinos flinched as he lifted his hand. She thought for a moment that he was going to hit her, then his hand was hot on her neck. ‘It doesn’t have to be like this between us, girl,’ he said. ‘We could so easily be friends.’
She jerked away abruptly. ‘How dare you touch me.’ Her voice was heavy with disgust. Mr Cimla did not seem to hear it.
‘You’ll grow to like me, lass,’ he said. ‘All I want to do is to be kind to you.’
Mr Cimla grasped her arm. She pulled away from him tearing her dress from shoulder to waist. She pushed him away.
He made a lunge and caught her, holding her fast; she felt the heat of his hands pressing against her spine and she slapped out at his face with all her strength.
Suddenly he was jerked backwards. Llinos saw Binnie grasping Bert Cimla’s hair, pulling back the man’s head, a thick shard of pottery held to his throat.
‘Go into the house, Llinos,’ Binnie said. ‘I’ll deal with this bastard!’
It took Llinos a few moments to gather her wits. ‘Get out of here, Mr Cimla,’ she said. ‘Or I’ll rouse all the occupants of the row with my screams. See what my mother thinks of you then.’
Bert Cimla shook free of Binnie and moved towards the door. He was smiling as he opened it and looked out into the darkness.
‘Gwenie!’ he called. ‘Gwenie Savage, come here at once!’ His commanding voice echoed along the row and Llinos met Binnie’s eyes questioningly. He shook his head, as bewildered as she was.
Her mother came to the door of the shed, a cloak hastily pulled over her shoulders, her hair hanging loose.
‘Good God in heaven, what’s happened here?’ She stared from one to the other of them, her eyes coming to rest on her daughter.
Llinos opened her mouth but Mr Cimla spoke first. ‘I found them together, on the floor, like a pair of animals, they were. Didn’t I always say she was too friendly with the boy?’
‘Mother, don’t believe him, it’s not true!’ Llinos said. ‘He attacked me, he was hurting me.’
