The Master of Prophecy (The Sawyl Gwilym Chronicles Book 2)

by Benjamin Ford

  He had approached Elendale yesterday morning filled with optimistic excitement, whilst tinged with only a modicum of anxiety. On the journey up from Portsmouth, he had a sudden infusion of inspiration for his new novel, which had forced him to make an unplanned pit stop in Haywards Heath for an hour whilst he jotted down the ideas that continued to come thick and fast.

  He decided that staying at Four Oaks was definitely going to be a boon to his writing.

  Upon entering Elendale, however, the anxiety suddenly overwhelmed him, and he drove straight past the entrance to Four Oaks, past The Green Woman Inn, and right through to the other side of the village.

  Stopping by the village green in neighbouring Neville Hill, he had struggled to calm down and gather the shreds of his resolve. Only after twenty minutes had elapsed did he put the car into gear, drive round the edge of the green, and return to Elendale, where he went no further than the pub, and ended up asking for a room overnight.

  He had not slept well, and was jumpy as hell when the twenty-something son of the publican knocked on his door at ten-thirty to offer him a late breakfast. Through the door, Matthew had declined, and in the young man’s response, he felt certain he detected a note of disappointment.

  Or was it perhaps just wishful thinking?

  The young man, Matthew recalled, was rather good looking.

  Having resigned himself to the fact that he could not stay in bed indefinitely, and that he could delay the inevitable only so long, he clambered from beneath the duvet, washed in the small vanity sink beside the door, and dressed in the clothes he had worn yesterday.

  So here he was, just half an hour later, sitting at a table in a booth beneath the window, staring into his barely touched lager, wondering whether he should perhaps just go home.

  He was still lost in thought when he became acutely aware that a pair of eyes bored right into him. He glanced up, to see a vivacious blonde sitting at the bar, wearing a skirt that was far too short to be appropriate in the summer, much less in the current inclement time of year. She continued to fix him with an unblinking glower, which struck Matthew with a peculiar familiarity. He was quite certain he had not met the young woman before, and yet he felt uncannily that he should know her.

  He wanted to speak out, to tell her it was rude to stare, especially in such an openly hostile manner, but something stirred within him, warning him to remain silent.

  ‘Hi,’ said a male voice from beside him, startling him almost out of his seat, until he realised it was the publican’s son. ‘Sorry,’ the young man continued. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’

  Matthew felt a glow suffuse his cheeks and he smiled warmly. The young man was as gorgeous as he vaguely recalled from the previous night’s brief glimpse. ‘That’s okay,’ he muttered solicitously, ‘you can startle me anytime!’ His smile faltered when he suddenly realised his playful mental come-on had escaped his mind to find its way onto his lips, and he was momentarily mortified.

  However, the sandy-haired youth merely smiled and sat down opposite. ‘Do you mind if I join you?’

  Matthew chuckled. ‘A rhetorical question, if ever I heard one. It would appear I have no choice in the matter.’

  It was the blond youth’s turn to lose his smile now. ‘Oh, I’m truly sorry,’ he blustered, half rising to his feet. ‘If you’d rather be on your own?’

  Matthew placed a reassuring hand on his leg to stop him. ‘No, please don’t leave, it’s fine… really.’

  The young man flashed his dazzling smile once more and sat again. ‘Good. You have no idea how long I’ve been loitering over in the corner, wondering whether I should disturb you or not. You looked so sad, sat here on your own, and last night you seemed really upset about something.’ He held out his hand. ‘I’m Liam, by the way, Liam Samwell. My parents run this place.’

  Matthew grasped the proffered hand, noticing how beautifully manicured and smooth they were. ‘My name is Matthew Silverthorne,’ he replied, gazing into Liam’s radiant blue eyes, which sparkled with mischievous happiness, and something else that Matthew recognised, but for the moment chose to put aside in his mind. It was obvious that Liam was enamoured with him, and the emotion seemed genuine.

  ‘Is the lager not to your liking?’ Liam asked, indicating the barely touched drink.

  ‘I’m sorry; I’ve just been a bit distracted. I had quite a long drive here yesterday, and now that girl over there is giving me the creeps!’ He half inclined his head sideways to where the girl still sat, though she was no longer staring at him and was instead chatting to the woman behind the bar.

  Liam glanced over. ‘Oh, take no notice of her. That’s Lucinda, my twin, though you wouldn’t think it to look at us.’ He leaned closer to Matthew. ‘I think she was born with a permanent chip welded onto her shoulder,’ he whispered conspiratorially.

  ‘Either that, or she’s reliving her teenage years!’ muttered Matthew sarcastically, which made them both laugh uproariously, which in turn earned the pair a withering look of disapproval from Lucinda, and an amused look of curiosity from the woman to whom she was talking.

  ‘Is that your mother?’ Matthew whispered, noting the startling facial similarity.

  Liam nodded. ‘I inherited Mum’s good looks, and Lucinda inherited all of Dad’s bad attitude!’ He grinned at his mother, scowled at Lucinda, and then once again turned his attention to Matthew. ‘So,’ he continued, ‘what’s a good looking guy like you doing in a dump like this? And why are you so sad?’

  It felt natural to be chatting to the amiable young man, even though he did not know him, and so Matthew found himself revealing that he was on the verge of splitting from Theo, even though he loved him desperately, and had come to this ‘dump’ to take stock of his life.

  ‘Ah, so you are gay then!’

  ‘Do you have a problem with that?’ Matthew snapped defensively, a little louder than he had intended. He was aware of several pairs of eyes as they swivelled around to stare at the man who dared to raise his voice within the peace of the pub. He chose to ignore them all. ‘Sorry,’’ he mumbled sheepishly when he saw the distress in Liam’s eyes. ‘I’m so used to people judging me negatively when they find out I’m gay that I automatically assume everyone is going to be equally prejudicial.’

  The distress vanished from Liam’s eyes. ‘So why do you tell people then? Why did you tell me?’

  Matthew shrugged. ‘I don’t necessarily tell people, I just choose not to hide the real me, and if someone asks, then I don’t see the point in denying it. As to why I told you about my problems with Theo…’ He shrugged helplessly again. ‘I don’t know. I’m just comfortable sitting here with you, and it just came out.’ He glanced up into Liam’s eyes. ‘Perhaps I recognised a kindred spirit.’

  Liam smiled nervously. ‘You think I’m gay, or do you mean I look like I’ve got a broken heart?’

  ‘I don’t know. You tell me!’

  ‘Well I can safely say I’ve never been in love before.’ There was a twinkle in Liam’s eyes as he left the statement open, dangling before Matthew in the still air of the pub like a tempting carrot being dangled sadistically just out of reach of a poor starving donkey.

  Matthew was not sure what to make of Liam, other than the fact that he was eminently likeable.

  Is he interested in me or merely toying with my emotions?

  Matthew decided he would quite like to find out the answer. Part of the reason for coming to Elendale was to sort out his feelings towards Theo. Liam might be just the diversion he needed, or perhaps an unwelcome complication, or maybe just a good friend who would be willing to listen should he choose to pour out his innermost feelings.

  If Liam required a sounding board for his own problems, Matthew was more than willing to put his own listening skills to good use. As a journalist, he was an excellent listener.

  Suddenly aware that Liam was speaking to him, Matthew wryly smiled.

  So much for being a good listener!

  ‘So
rry, what was that?’

  Liam chuckled. ‘You were miles away, weren’t you? Wherever you were, I wish I was there too!’ He sighed. ‘I was asking what brought you to Elendale.’

  ‘I’ve inherited a house in the village, so I thought it would be the ideal place to get away from my life for a while to gather my thoughts.’

  ‘Must be nice to just drop everything like that. What do you do for a living?’ asked Liam.

  ‘I’m a freelance journalist, and an unpublished author of two novels.’

  ‘I’d love to read those someday. I love reading fiction. I read everything, from James Herbert and Stephen King to Jilly Cooper and Danielle Steel. I especially love historical novels, though. The novelist Gloria Schofield used to live near here.’

  ‘My next novel is going to be a mixture of historical and contemporary,’ Matthew said with a smile, ‘with an added dash of the supernatural.’

  Liam’s eyes widened. ‘That sounds like it’ll be right up my alley! What made you think of a mixture like that?’

  ‘Something about this house I’ve inherited. I’ve been there once already, and it had such an oppressive atmosphere that I ran away like a big girl! I’ll freely admit the place terrified me, yet intrigued me at the same time, so I decided not to give in to the irrational fears and have come back to spend a little time there.’

  ‘Only you found you still couldn’t go there, which is why you spent the night here.’

  Matthew laughed. ‘That’s very perceptive of you, Liam.’

  ‘You’re talking about Four Oaks, aren’t you?’

  Matthew felt a chill travel the length of his spine at Liam’s softly intoned words. ‘How did you know that?’

  ‘Intuition! Your own intuition is correct, Matthew. That house has a… reputation. It’s supposed to be haunted. No one will go there, not even in the daytime. Last year one of the villagers bought the place and moved in. She died recently and apparently left the house to someone in her will. No one knows who the mysterious benefactor is.’

  ‘Well, now you know! Elaine Oakhurst left the house to me, one year after I unsuccessfully tried to purchase it myself!’

  ‘You’re kidding?’

  Matthew shook his head. ‘So as you can imagine, there are lots of questions I seek answers to, and I feel those answers can be found up at that house.’

  Liam was silent for a few moments. ‘If you’d like, I could go there with you,’ he suggested in a near whisper. ‘Ghost’s don’t frighten me, and I’ve always wanted to see the inside of Four Oaks. It’s not my property, and I’m not about to go breaking and entering!’

  ‘That’s good to hear!’

  ‘Which bit? The breaking and entering bit, or me going with you?’

  Matthew’s eyes penetrated Liam’s. ‘All of it,’ he said in a gentle voice.

  Liam stood up almost too eagerly. ‘Come on then, let’s go!’

  *

  With slowly mounting anxiety, Chloe Samwell watched her son from behind the bar as he flirted openly with the stranger.

  She had been slightly shocked when he came downstairs earlier announcing that the new guest did not want breakfast. She had caught the way Liam stared at the stranger last night, shortly after his arrival, and she knew there would be trouble. It had happened several times in the past couple of years.

  Since coming out to her four years ago, Liam had made no effort to hide his new found confidence, and though she was proud of the fact that he felt it unnecessary to pretend to be anyone other than who he was, she sorely wished he would refrain from latching on to good looking patrons.

  Sometimes his flirting was subtle and so innocent that it went unnoticed by anyone other than her. At other times, it was so overt that her husband noticed it and he was not as tolerant as she was.

  Ainsley was devoutly religious. Sex before marriage was a bad enough sin – Lucinda would most likely burn in hell for her crime. Homosexuality was the worst sin as far as he was concerned. There was no punishment strong enough for such heinous deviancy. He had wanted to disown Liam. To wash his hands of the abomination was the only way to cleanse the family, kick the filth out into the streets to prevent any further sullying of his already tarnished household.

  It had taken a whole week of permanent fighting and screaming and arguing on Chloe’s part to force Ainsley into showing a degree of leniency. She told him that they had recently entered the Twenty-first Century, yet he was still living in the Nineteenth where his prejudice about his son was concerned. Was Liam really any different now that they knew the truth? He was still the same person. He was still their son. If Ainsley kicked Liam out onto the streets then he would have to kick her out too.

  Ainsley had enough love for his wife to make a solid effort. He allowed Liam to remain at home, and vaguely accepted the fact that he would never marry, but the truth was swept under the carpet, a taboo subject, discussion about which was totally forbidden within the walls of their home. What Liam did in his own time outside of the home was his own business. Ainsley did not want to know about it, and certainly had no wish to discuss it.

  If Liam abided by his father’s rules then he could stay, but he would be out on his ear if he flouted those rules, which was why Chloe was anxious as she watched her son openly flirting with the stranger.

  Liam only behaved in such a manner when his father was not around, but Chloe knew Ainsley would be back soon from the Cash and Carry. If he should witness what was going on his temper would flare. Chloe did not like to think of the consequences, and was therefore relieved when Liam and the other young man arose to leave.

  ‘Lucy, could you mind the bar for a few minutes while I have a few words with your brother? I’m just going to find out who our guest is, and where they are going.’

  Lucinda pushed her long blonde hair from her face and scowled. She hated being called Lucy, but knew her mother was not about to stop calling her that any time soon, so she decided to bait her instead. ‘No need for that, Mum. His name is Matthew Silverthorne. He’s the one who’s inherited Four Oaks. That’s where they’re off to!’

  Chloe blanched. ‘How do you know they’re going to that accursed place?’

  Lucinda snorted her irritation. ‘I could hear their conversation from here. Dad will go spare when he finds out Liam’s fallen in love!’

  ‘Fallen in love? Don’t be so ridiculous, Lucy. He’s only just met that man. He barely knows anything about… Matthew.’

  ‘Well he has fallen for him. Can’t you read body language, Mum? Dear God, you’ve been working behind a bar long enough to observe people. Surely you can tell the body language of someone who’s in love?’

  During their exchange, Lucinda had not taken her eyes off her brother and his companion, a fact that had not passed by Chloe unnoticed, who did recognise the unpleasant attributes of lust and jealousy when she saw them.

  ‘Well, I don’t want Liam going up to that house,’ she said as she watched the pair walk towards the door. ‘Liam,’ she called out loudly, ‘could I have a word with you, please?’

  ‘Later Mum,’ Liam shouted over his shoulder.

  Growling her annoyance, Chloe moved towards the entrance and was just about to repeat her request for Lucinda to watch the bar when her daughter dropped off the barstool and began walking towards the door. ‘Lucy, where are you going?’

  ‘For a walk!’ Lucinda snapped without turning. ‘I’m twenty-two, Mum, and my name is not Lucy. I don’t need permission to go for a bloody walk!’

  Lost for words, Chloe watched in silence as her daughter left the pub. She knew there was going to be even more trouble than ever now.

  Lucinda was wrong. Chloe could read body language.

  Her son’s was clear enough – he was infatuated by the young man, Matthew Silverthorne, though she doubted very much that it was love.

  Matthew’s body language was a little more difficult to decipher. She felt he was perhaps flattered by Liam’s attention, but she could tell that he was
not necessarily interested – it was as if his affections lay elsewhere.

  But then there was Lucinda.

  Lucinda could be bossy, rude and aggressive. When she wanted something, the word no was not in her vocabulary and she would not stop until it was hers. When she saw a man she wanted, she would ruthlessly pursue him with relentless ferocity until he capitulated to her will, and she was undeniably infatuated with Matthew too.

  If – as Chloe felt was fairly obvious, even to the most naïve onlooker – Matthew was gay, then there was no way Lucinda would be able to get her claws into him, but that would not stop her from trying.

  Lucinda’s body language screamed jealousy. She had never been interested in any of the men to whom Liam had shown affection before, and as far as Chloe knew, there had never been a man before who had declined Lucinda’s charms.

  ‘There’s going to be blood spilt before this day is over,’ Chloe mumbled to herself as she moved back behind the bar.

  Lucinda stood in the small car park outside The Green Woman Inn, watching silently as Matthew and Liam climbed into the red car. As they drove off, a wind sprang up from nowhere, whipping her blonde hair around her head like Medusa’s snakes. The pub sign creaked and groaned in the unnatural breeze above her.

  ‘You cannot escape from me,’ she whispered to nobody in particular as the car disappeared around the bend in the leafy lane. ‘Not again! I know exactly where you are going.’

  She started walking. Cutting through the fields on the opposite side of the road, she ignored the muddy quagmire caused by the recent incessant rain, marching as though possessed by some inner fury. She ignored the wind that appeared to follow her, trying to rip her hair out by the roots. She ignored the branches of the overhanging trees at the edge of the fields as they whipped and scratched at her exposed arms and face when she passed by. She ignored the cold rain as it once again started falling, gently at first but with increasing ferocity. Coupled with the wind, it was as though the forces of nature tried to prevent her progress.

  Nothing was going to stop Lucinda from reaching her destination, though. She did not even pause to wonder why she chose to walk through the muddy fields. They might have been the most direct route, cutting out the narrow winding country lanes, but it was hardly the most practical route under the extreme elemental conditions.