Hrothgar explained that the truth had been secluded from him for his own protection, and that it was for the protection of his child that the truth was now revealed to him.
By my child, mused Roger, did Hrothgar refer to Matthew or Matilda – or both?
From the instant he saw the young woman Lucinda through Roger’s eyes, and the spirit she nurtured, Hrothgar sidelined his host’s mind and took control. Roger knew the ancient spirit did not intend to relinquish control until his task was done, and though he was not privy to the information, Roger knew it was not going to be pleasant, so he shut his eyes to everything around him and allowed Hrothgar complete control.
The taxi deposited Hrothgar at the gates of Four Oaks as per his instructions, having paid for the expensive journey using money he found inside the purloined jacket he wore.
Hrothgar felt no pity for the man at the hospital; his situation necessitated drastic measures – and striking the man was less than he would have done had he been in his own lifetime. He wished he were back then now, but knew that was an impossible dream. When his task was over he would have his freedom; that was the best he could hope for.
He knew what had to be done, and yet still did not know whether it would actually work or not.
He recalled the moment his host had spoken with Obadiah and Matilda.
Matilda; his daughter by another name. He smiled sadly at the memory, at all his memories. She had been taken from him so young. She would never live a proper life all the while he was alive. There was naturally only one course of action.
He had to die.
What had she said to Roger?
You must seek out Elen. She will show you everything, and then you will understand.
Hrothgar smiled. Roger had been confused because he had no idea who Elen was.
Hrothgar knew precisely who Elen was; it was just a matter of finding her. He pushed open the gates and walked with renewed purpose up the sloping drive, unaware of the car that pulled up just beyond the gates.
Chloe sat behind the wheel of her car, watching Roger’s figure disappear towards the house. She was in two minds about following, for it meant entering someone else’s property without permission, something she had not done since her rebellious teenage years.
What the hell, she thought. I won’t be the first person in the family to be arrested for trespassing on this property, and I might be able to find out from Mr Silverthorne exactly what happened that night!
Turning off the engine, she scrambled from the car, not bothering to lock the door in her haste. She did not want to let Roger out of her sight.
As she disappeared through the gates, Chloe did not see her daughter as she came running down the lane.
Having ducked into some bushes when he recognised the approaching car as that of his host’s mother, Luke followed as best he could whilst at the same time trying to remain out of sight.
It annoyed him immensely to see her disappear into the grounds of Four Oaks. Nothing was ever easy; someone always tried to get in the way of his plans, but he always managed to deal with them in the past, though Matthew and the other boy had thwarted his previous attempt.
He had recognised Maud of course, as he always did. It could have been perfect; he would have rid himself of Hrothgar and settled his score with Maud, and he would have finally passed on, but the other boy prevented that from happening. The boy was stronger and smarter than Obadiah had been.
For too many centuries, Luke had waited patiently for this opportunity, only for it to be stolen from him, but now he had an unexpected second opportunity.
This wretched woman was in the way. She threatened his plan, but he could deal with her more effectively than he could the boy. Yes, this woman would suffer the same fate as Obadiah. He had been an obstacle five centuries ago, but had been swiftly removed with astonishing ease, as would this woman, should she obstruct him.
Luke sensed his host’s distress, and smiled cruelly. What did it matter that the woman was her mother? He secured his control over Lucinda’s body, banishing her to the murky depths of her own dark subconscious, restraining her using her own despair and mental bonds that only he could release.
No my dear, you shall not interfere again. This time nothing shall prevent me from achieving my goals. You had best pray that your mother does not interfere, for should she do so, there shall be no salvation for her soul. Nothing must prevent the executions this time.
Nothing!
*
Matthew awakened in the middle of the forest, lying on his back and staring up through the canopy of trees. Very little blue sky was visible, even though the branches were denuded of their leaves. He could hear muffled voices from nearby, but could not hear what was being said, and when he tried to move, his head began to throb and his vision blurred. Ceasing his attempt to sit up diminished the dizziness, so he lay where he was, his breathing shallow and controlled as he gathered his thoughts.
He could not recall what had happened. Why he lay upon a carpet of damp leaves was a mystery to him; he could feel the dampness had penetrated his clothes so he must have been lying there awhile. The sensation was uncomfortable, but oddly he did not feel cold.
Where exactly am I?
We be within the forest of the dead men.
The girl’s voice startled him with its proximity, so close it sounded almost as if it were actually inside his head.
Hang on, I didn’t speak, so how could that voice have been responding to my question?
I be within thy mind, but I be no figment of thy imagination, Matthew Silverthorne.
Matthew struggled to sit up once more, but even though he fought against the swamping dizziness, he could not move a muscle.
And he could not speak!
Suddenly very afraid, Matthew began to panic. His heartbeat increased rapidly, his breath coming in short erratic bursts.
Thou must calm thyself, Matthew Silverthorne. Thou hast no reason to fear me. All shall be explained and understood in the fullness of time. Thou must relax.
Difficult as it was to do so, Matthew thought it best to try and do as the voice asked.
Who are you?
Thou might call me Matilda; others have called me Maud. It matters not which thou doth prefer, it be all the same to me.
What are you?
I be the sleeping spirit that has dwelled within thee since before thou were born. Thou hast been my protector, but now the time has come for me to face mine enemy.
Your enemy? Who’s that then?
I cannot fully explain. Elen shall show thee everything when the others arrive. Until then, it be best thou doth relax.
Easy for you to say, you don’t have a strange voice in your head… and I cannot move!
Indeed it be easy for me to say, for I have been trapped in the body of one person after another for near two thousand years. I be trapped by a curse, with but a single hope for release. Trust when I tell thee I know how thou dost feel, for each person who has played host to me across the centuries has felt the same. Now, do as I bid thee… relax.
*
Joyce bent over her son, intending to soothe his furrowed brow. His eyes were open, but he was not looking in her direction and he seemed as incapable of movement as she was.
Unnerved by the fact that she could not move, Joyce was relieved that her son appeared physically unharmed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the feet of someone else lying on the ground, but because she could not move, she could not see who it was.
She heard muffled voices from nearby, but could not make out what they said. The voices did not sound threatening, and though she remained immobile, Joyce was certain there was no immediate danger.
She tried to call out, but found she could not. Some extraordinary force held her, and as she knelt there, bowed as if in prayer over Theo’s immobile body, Joyce tried to recall what had happened.
When no memories came to her, she realised she would have to wait, until whatever force held
her was released.
*
Theo was aware that his mother knelt over him; though she was outside his field of vision he could smell her distinctive perfume, and, sure it was her, the very presence of his mother relieved some of the anxiety he felt at being unable to move or speak.
He could not recall how he came to be lying on the floor of the forest – indeed, he could not actually recall entering the forest in the first place.
Straining his eyes – which seemed to be the only part of his body he could move – he noticed a pair of feet right at the periphery of his vision, and although he could not see the rest of the body they were attached to, he recognised them as belonging to Matthew.
Matthew’s here in the forest too! What’s going on?
Theo heard voices from nearby. He could not understand the muffled words, but the tone of the voices seemed agitated rather than threatening.
Theo knew that if he were patient, all would be revealed.
*
Margaret stood slightly apart from the others within the clearing. She recognised the stationary figures, but not the two who moved around, talking amongst themselves, and while they were unknown to her, she felt she should be able to place them.
Not being able to speak or move was decidedly uncomfortable. She wanted to rush over to Matthew to ensure he was all right. His eyes were open yet remained unblinking, his body as immobile as Joyce and Theo.
Because of the positions of the others, Margaret realised she alone could see what was going on, so made certain to maintain constant vigilance over the old woman and young man who moved around, unaffected by whatever force bound the others into immobile silence.
It seemed likely to Margaret that they were in some way responsible. They did not appear to be doing anything other than walk around the clearing, speaking to one another in hushed whispers. It annoyed Margaret that she could not hear their words, and it frustrated her that she could not call out, make them aware that she could see them.
She held her breath as they paused in their pacing. They slowly turned as one, facing her direction. At first Margaret thought perhaps they had read her thoughts, but a moment later she realised someone stood behind her; the odd couple were looking at whoever it was.
The old woman smiled and spoke aloud. Margaret heard her words clearly, as did Matthew, Theo and Joyce.
‘The others are here at last. I free you from your bonds, and return to you your memories.’
Margaret ran to Matthew’s side as he struggled to sit up, while Joyce helped Theo to rise.
‘Are you all right?’ the two mother’s asked their respective sons at the same time.
‘Yes,’ responded Matthew and Theo in unison.
The four glanced at one another, and then at the old woman who stood beside Max Revenant.
‘That woman is not human,’ gasped Theo.
‘No, she’s a ghost,’ replied Matthew, ‘just like Max. She’s Elaine Oakhurst!’
Theo shook his head wildly. ‘No, she’s not human in any way, shape or form. She’s…’ He shrugged helplessly, and turned to Joyce. ‘I don’t know what she is, but you saw it too, didn’t you, Mum?’
Joyce nodded, blanching at the recollection. ‘Indeed I did.’
‘What did you see?’ gasped Margaret.
They were interrupted by the appearance of Max in their midst. ‘Enough of this! All shall be explained shortly, but please, do not let my mother’s appearance alarm you. She means you no harm; indeed, it is her intention to set right a great wrongdoing from the past. Now… the others are here.’
*
With Peter leading the way, Louise, Rachel and Glory continued their seemingly endless trek into the depths of Dead Man’s Wood. Glory had tripped over countless times and was covered from head to foot in mud and leaves, and looked for all the world reminiscent to the colourful sign depicting the Green Woman that swung on its rusted hinges outside the pub.
Close to tears, the girl was unamused at her present condition, voicing her opinion that she wished she had taken her chances face to face with the notorious Sawyl Gwilym.
Though they offered only silent comfort in their hugs, Louise and Rachel were of similar minds, for despite his reassurances that they were safer in the forest, the fact that Peter Neville was leading them into forbidden territory without telling them what lay ahead alarmed them both.
They knew better than to question Peter though, for he was unlikely to offer any explanation at this late stage. Louise knew it would be foolish to attempt to retrace their steps too, since the forest seemed to close in around them the deeper they went. She had long since lost all sense of direction, and she recalled her previous visit with rather more clarity than she wished. She had become lost in the forest on that occasion, and had been lucky enough to get out only because of the help she received.
Sudden illumination defined Louise’s thoughts: Peter was taking them to see the old woman she had encountered that last time. What was her name?
‘Elen,’ she said aloud. Of course – how could she have forgotten? ‘He’s taking us to see Elen.’
‘Very perceptive of you, my dear.’
Louise glanced up at the sudden female voice, somewhat amazed to find they were in a clearing deep within the forest, and yet the overhanging canopy of the trees still blocked out most of the natural light. To her, the clearing seemed a similar size to the sitting room of her cottage, its edge lined with fallen trunks and stumps of chopped down trees, almost as though strategically placed for seating.
Huddled together in a group on the far side of the clearing she saw Matthew, Theo and Joyce, and another woman whom she did not know. Standing apart from them were two other figures: a rather overweight young man with black hair, wearing an incongruously immaculate black suit and shiny patent leather shoes, and the woman who had spoken; the woman she had met in these woods before: Elen – Elaine Oakhurst.
Elaine spread her arms. ‘Welcome, all of you. Please be seated.’
A hand touched Louise’s arm, making her jump, and when she looked up, she saw Phil had been returned to her. Peter Neville had departed once more, having delivered them safely.
‘Are you all right, Phil?’ she asked quietly.
‘Yes, I’m fine. Peter informed me that there are several spirits here amongst us, but would not elaborate. He said everything would be made clear to us.’
‘As indeed it shall,’ said Elaine imperiously. ‘If you will allow me to, I shall tell you everything; prepare you all for what is to come.’
‘That sounds rather ominous,’ said Rachel. ‘I take it we are not going to like what we’re about to hear?’
Elaine smiled ‘Perhaps not, however, necessity dictates that you understand what is going on – all of you.’
Matthew’s forthright voice carried from the distance. ‘I suggest we all do as Elaine says. I for one wish to know why the woman who outbid me for Four Oaks last year, subsequently left me the house in her will, and how she is now able to stand before us, apparently still alive.’
‘And I want to hear her explain her earlier appearance to Mum and me,’ said Theo.
‘Yes, just how did she appear to you both? You never did say.’
‘Something like this!’
The commanding tone in Elaine’s voice brought everyone’s attention to bear upon her, and they watched spellbound, bemused and horrified as she transformed her appearance before their very eyes.
Elaine’s mouth opened wide, stretching from a smile into an ever-expanding grimace. Tendrils of leaves spewed forth from the gaping maw in the middle of what had once been her face. Her outstretched arms changed colour, becoming brown with a subtle green mottled bark-like texture; her gnarled old fingers twisted, elongated along with her arms, becoming ever-multiplying branches. Her torso expanded, shredding her clothing until it hung in tatters upon the gnarled bark that replaced her body. Her legs continued the transformation, stretching downwards, fusing together to continue the trunk
down to the forest floor; her toes spilt apart, forming root-like protuberances that burrowed down into the earth. Her eyes receded into what had once been her head; her hair twisted, hardening, stretching upwards and outwards to form more branches, which rapidly budded, until eventually, in the centre of the clearing, incongruous amid all the naked winter trees, there stood a fully grown oak tree, resplendent with mid-summer foliage of lush green.
What you see before you in my intermediate stage. I am like this when resting between my human lives.
Elaine’s voice floated around the shocked group, who backed away slightly during the transformation, which had taken mere seconds.
‘What the hell are you, exactly?’ gasped Louise, choking back her fear and nausea. ‘You’re definitely not human.’
There was a rumbling from the very bowels of the earth, and amid much creaking, the transformation reversed itself rather more slowly. The woman who eventually stood before them was very different from Elaine Oakhurst, yet undeniably the same individual.
She was much younger, indeterminate of age, her skin mostly human in appearance with a subtle bark-like texture, save for mossy growths that helped preserve her feminine modesty. Her brown eyes seemed a touch too large for her oddly beautiful face, whilst her hair appeared to be comprised of vines, ivy and other tendrils, and her slender arms tipped with elegantly proportioned fingers reminiscent of twigs. Her long legs that had looked like root structures firmly rooted into the earth came out of the ground with ease, sinking back into it again as she walked slowly towards the gathered group.
‘This is my true appearance,’ she said, the metamorphosis complete. She smiled at their unease. ‘I am Elen, though I have assumed many names over the centuries.’
‘You’re a wood nymph!’ gasped Glory.
Elen bowed her head. ‘Indeed I am. The young lady is quite correct: I am what you mortals might call a wood nymph. There are many of my kind spread across the world; wood, water, earth and fire nymphs. We are everywhere, and we are for all time. We preserve nature when it is endangered so that life will go on.’
The Master of Prophecy (The Sawyl Gwilym Chronicles Book 2) Page 28
