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‘What’s happened here?’ The Roman dismounted from his horse and bent to examine the women. Eigon saw him shake his head as he glanced at Alys. No one could have survived that vicious knife slash to the throat. It had almost severed the woman’s head from her body. With a cursory glance at the naked twisted body which was Blodeyn, he laid a hand, gently, on Cerys’s forehead. She groaned. He glanced over his shoulder to the men behind him. ‘I think we’ve found the missing family. Look, this woman is no peasant. See her hands? She is either Caratacus’s wife, or one of his family.’ He used the Roman version of Eigon’s father’s name. He took Cerys’s hand in his own and held it for a few seconds, examining her nails. Her eyes flickered open for a moment, then closed again. He could see the marks where her arm rings had been wrenched from her; her necklet too had gone, leaving a telltale bruise on the side of her throat. The woman had worn jewellery; what was left of her gown had been fine linen, beautifully stitched and embroidered. He turned to Eigon. His eyes moved slowly over the child’s naked, pale body, noting the blood, the bruises, the obscenely splayed legs and his mouth tightened. ‘Bring something to cover them,’ he commanded curtly. ‘Look for the other children. There were three, I understand; bury these two women with honour, then bring these two back to the camp. Gently!’ He shouted the last word up at his second in command who nodded gravely, at last sliding down from his own horse.
‘And find out who committed this outrage,’ the officer went on, his voice deceptively quiet. ‘Whoever they were, they will pay with their lives.’
When Eigon woke she was lying on a low bed in a tent. Her mother was gently sponging her body with warm water. Behind her a lamp burned, throwing shadows round the walls. She could smell lavender.
‘Mam?’ Her eyes filled with tears.
‘Quietly, sweetheart. Everything is going to be all right.’ Cerys managed an exhausted smile. She had been given hot water and clothes and food, though she had eaten little, watching over her daughter as the child lay, a small alabaster figure on the bed, moaning now and then as slowly the shroud of dreams lifted and consciousness began to return.
A figure appeared at the door of the tent behind her. It was the officer who had brought her back. His name she now knew was Justinus. ‘Queen Cerys?’
There had been no point in denying who she was. Dozens of men and women from the fort had been captured together with hundreds of her husband’s warriors. Some of them would be bound to confirm her name in exchange for a promise to save their lives. The others were dead. Thousands, he had told her. Putting down the sponge she carefully pulled the sheet up round her daughter’s small body as he stood looking down at her. ‘How is she?’
Cerys stood up wearily. The child’s eyes had closed again. ‘The gods have blessed her with sleep for the time being.’
‘And she hasn’t spoken at all?’
Cerys shook her head.
‘We need to find your other children, lady. For their own safety. They are alone out there on the hills.’ Justinus glanced towards the entrance to the tent and shook his head slightly. ‘Better my men find them than …’ He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Both of them looked down at Eigon’s sleeping face. There was a short silence. ‘I have spoken to our commander, Publius Ostorius Scapula,’ he said quietly. ‘There is as yet no sign of your husband.’
She closed her eyes with a murmured prayer of gratitude to the gods. If he had escaped the battlefield he would return to rescue her.
‘He might have been slain, lady,’ he said gently. He had read her thoughts immediately. ‘There are still bodies to be recovered from the battlefield.’
‘I think his capture or his killing would have been shouted from the highest summit of the hills,’ she said sharply. She straightened her shoulders painfully. ‘My husband is a king and the saviour of his people; the greatest warrior in Britain. If he had fallen, we would know it.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘You are probably right to say that.’ He sighed. ‘Scapula wishes to speak with you, lady. I told him you are injured.’ He glanced at the bruises on her face and at her throat and on her arms, and the strapping on her ankle, showing beneath the mantle and cloak in which she was huddled. ‘He has ordered me to bring you to him when you are well enough.’
‘Thank you for giving me that respite at least.’ She bowed her head. So far she had been treated with courtesy, even consideration, but that she was a prisoner was beyond doubt. Two men stood outside the entrance to the tent, their spears crossed over the doorway. They had snapped to attention as the praefectus had entered, but crossed them again behind him.
‘If there is anything you need for yourself or the child, tell one of the guards,’ he went on. Then he bowed. He left her sitting at Eigon’s bedside, her hand over the child’s pale cold fist as it lay on the bedcover.
When Eigon woke again at last the lamp had burned low; the oil was sputtering in the bowl and the tent was almost dark. She stared round. ‘Mam?’
‘Here, sweetheart.’
‘Where is Alys?’
Cerys bit her lip. ‘She isn’t here, Eigon. I’m sorry.’
‘And Togo and Glads?’ The child’s voice suddenly slid higher with anxiety.
Cerys shook her head. ‘I don’t know where they are.’ She sighed. Was the officer right? They would be better off with her? Better that than to risk being raped and murdered on the cold hillside, surely; but if they were with her they risked, what? What would the Romans do to her and her children? Imprisonment? Ransom? Death? She shook her head violently. Caradoc would rescue her. He would find a way of saving her. Her duty was to keep the children with her, safely.
‘Where were they, Eigon? You came to find us, but the children weren’t with you.’
Her daughter shook her head. ‘I told them to hide. I told them we were playing hide and seek like you said. I told them not to come out till I went back for them.’ The child’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Why did those men hurt me, Mam?’
‘They were soldiers, Eigon. Ignorant, vicious men. You must try and forget what happened. The gods will punish them for what they did.’ Cerys closed her eyes for a few seconds, unable to look at her daughter’s anguished little face. When she opened them she took a deep breath. ‘Eigon. We have to find Togo and Gwladys. Do you remember where you left them?’
The child shook her head again. ‘It was dark. The wind was roaring in the trees. I couldn’t see anything. We hid in a ditch where the wind couldn’t get to us. It was warmer there.’ Tears began to run down her cheeks. ‘Are they all right?’
‘I don’t know.’ Cerys felt the words catch in her throat.
‘It wasn’t hide and seek, was it?’
‘No, sweetheart. It wasn’t …’
Hide and seek!
The words echoed through the bedroom as Jess sat up abruptly, suddenly wide awake. The moon had moved on and the room was dark. She stared round, frightened. ‘She’s telling me her story. Eigon wants me to know what happened. She knows I understand because it happened to me.’ Climbing out of bed Jess stood for a moment in the darkness trying to steady her breathing. Padding barefoot to the window she looked out. The night was dark now. She couldn’t see anything or anyone outside.
The luminous dial on her bedside clock told her it was just after three. Switching on the light she stared down at her pillows for several seconds before turning her back on them and heading for the stairs.
In the kitchen she switched on the kettle, then she went to the door and unlocked it. Pulling it open almost defiantly she stood looking out into the courtyard. The night was balmy; a gentle breeze touched her face. It was very quiet. Even the trees were motionless. Still barefoot she stepped outside and glanced up. The sky was bright with a myriad stars. She caught her breath. One could never see the night sky in London properly. This was spectacular and she was not going to lock herself inside, frightened by a dream. She had vowed not to be a victim. She was not going to be terrorised by a ghost any more than she was going to be terrorised by the man who had raped her. To walk to the gate was the first proof that she was succeeding. The flags were warm under her feet as she walked away from the open door.
‘Eigon?’ She whispered the name out loud. ‘Eigon? Glads? Are you there?’ Her voice was louder this time. With a shriek of alarm a blackbird flew out of the bush by the gate and disappeared into the darkness. Her heart hammering, she stopped. It was only a bird. Nothing to be afraid of. In fact, if there had been anyone there lurking in the shadows the bird would have long gone. She forced herself to walk on. Two more steps. Then one. She put out her hands to the gate and grasped the top rail. ‘Eigon?’
She could just make out the line of the track outside the gate. In one direction it led towards the wood, in the other back down between high banks which eventually followed the contour of the hillside to the road in the valley bottom. Faraway in the distance she could make out two or three lights which showed a village tucked away in a fold of the hills. Nearer to her, to the east, the silhouette of the hillside blocked out the stars. She studied it. How strange that she had not realised it at once. That was the site of the fort in her dream. The fort which she had seen in flames as the women and children fled the vengeful Roman force. She could see the distinctive tiered shape of its summit now, outlined against the blazing heavens.
‘Eigon?’ she called out one last time. There was no reply and turning her back on the trees she retraced her steps towards the house. Inside she closed the door and bolted it. Only then did she acknowledge just how frightened she had been.
5 (#u90907c20-6df2-52a2-a1c6-6b23225d6a1e)
‘Hi Steph, how are you?’
Steph answered her mobile as she walked out of the palazzo next morning on her way to buy some food for Kim’s dinner party that evening. Kim was already entrenched in the kitchen, and last-minute guests had meant last-minute supplies.
‘Who is that?’ Pausing, Steph turned, pulling her dark glasses down over her eyes. The heat was like a furnace, reflecting off the pavements of the piazza, the traffic roaring noisily round the corner past her. Behind her the palazzo was a classic elegant Renaissance building, the faded terracotta façade peeling now and in places cracked and crumbling, the formal, perfectly symmetrical windows topped by swags and curls of exquisite stone carving. At the centre the huge old door was studded and barred in iron, a small pass door almost invisible in the ancient wood. Kim’s husband, Stefano, had been born and brought up in the huge high-ceilinged shabby apartment in this ancient palazzo, an apartment bought by his father specifically so his family could be a part of this Bohemian artistic quarter of the city.
Turning to face it she stared up at the walls as the voice spoke in her ear. ‘It’s Will, Steph. Please, don’t hang up. I need to talk to you.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Why?’ She began walking again, her hand tightening on the phone as she turned into a narrow alleyway. It was quieter here and she could hear him more easily.
‘I’ve been trying to contact Jess. You know she’s left school? She resigned without giving anyone a reason. She’s not answering her mobile and I’m pretty sure she’s not at the flat any more. I’m worried about her.’
‘What makes you think I would know where she was?’ Steph turned into the Via dei Capellari. She was heading towards the market in the Campo de’ Fiori.
‘That’s a stupid question. Of course you’d know. You two always tell each other everything. Is she there with you?’
‘No, she isn’t. I’m in Rome, Will. I don’t know where she is.’ She stopped again, staring sightlessly into the window of a small picture framer. It was cooler in the shade of this long narrow street. Near her two men had brought their chairs outside, slotting them between two huge terracotta pots of camellias. They were sipping iced beer, drops of condensation running down between their fingers and dripping onto their T-shirts. ‘Dan said he thought she might have come to stay with you.’ Will sighed. ‘Oh well. Do you at least know why she resigned?’
‘No.’ Steph began to walk on slowly. She had always liked Will, been sad when he and Jess split up, but if Jess was not telling anyone where she was, there had to be a reason. ‘Will, there’s no point in asking me. If Jess wants you to know where she is, she would tell you. I haven’t seen her for ages.’ That at least was true. ‘I’m here for the summer, so I don’t expect to either.’
There was a long silence. ‘Do you think she’s gone to stay with your mother in France?’ He sounded crestfallen.
Steph shrugged. She wasn’t sure if Jess had told Aurelia where she was; and she wasn’t sure her mother would keep it a secret if she had. Aurelia too had been one of Will’s greatest fans. ‘Will, are you there? I don’t think she’s in France,’ she said firmly. ‘Mummy would have said. I spoke to her only a day or so ago and she was just leaving for a trip to India.’ She crossed her fingers. Another lie, but only a small one. Aurelia had in fact just returned. As she tucked her mobile back into her bag she frowned. Why was Jess being so secretive? Something was going on. She would ring her tonight and find out exactly what it was
Dan phoned Ty Bran as Jess was eating a bowl of cereal. ‘I’m in Hay. I wondered if you would like to drive over and join me for lunch.’
She rescued the slice of toast that had leaped from the toaster, juggling it with her bowl of muesli. The door was wide open and the blackbird had forgiven her enough for her nocturnal intrusion on its sleeping place to sit on the top of the studio roof, singing gloriously into the sunshine. Her depression had gone; the peace of this place was working its magic at last. After the noise and dirt of London it was balm to her soul.
‘You’re in Hay?’ She frowned. ‘What are you doing there?’
‘Shopping for books. What else?’
‘But you never told me you were coming over this side of the country.’
‘Didn’t I?’ He laughed.
‘No, you didn’t. Are Natalie and the kids with you?’
‘Not this time. Bookshops bore them, sadly. I’m on my way to join them in Shropshire in a couple of days. They’ve gone up to stay with Nat’s parents. Oh come on, Jess. It wouldn’t take you much more than an hour to get here.’
Jess glanced over her shoulder at the open door. She was, she realised, already surprisingly reluctant to leave this peaceful place in spite of its uneasy echoes. On the other hand she needed to do some shopping and perhaps a change of scene would do no harm.
They met in the bar at The Kilvert at twelve thirty. There were no outside tables left by the time she got there so they settled for a table inside by the window.
‘So, are you feeling better about things now?’ He put a glass of wine down in front of her, sat down across the table and studied her face for a moment. ‘You look tired.’
She grimaced. ‘I’ve been having some rather spectacular nightmares.’ It was a relief to have someone to confide in but she hadn’t intended to come out with it quite so bluntly or so soon.
‘What about?’ He looked away and took a gulp from his pint.
‘A little girl.’ She paused, wondering if she should go into any detail. ‘Two little girls. Steph’s house seems to be haunted by them.’ She glanced up to gauge his reaction.
‘Haunted? Really?’ He was looking down into his glass. He seemed amused. He pushed the bar menu across the table towards her, still without meeting her gaze. ‘Would you like to choose something? So, what form does this haunting take?’
She shrugged. ‘As I said, nightmares and I think I may have seen them.’
‘Wow.’ He was still looking at the menu. ‘Has Steph seen them too?’
‘She says she suspected there was a ghost.’
‘And so what happens in your nightmare?’ His brown eyes were twinkling as he finally looked up at her.
‘One of them is raped.’
She saw the shock on his face as he put down the menu and turned to stare out of the doorway where the sunlight was beating down on the umbrellas over the crowded tables around the front door. ‘Raped?’ he echoed.
She nodded. ‘By Roman soldiers.’
‘That must be a scary dream.’ He still wasn’t looking at her.
‘It was.’ Suddenly she was regretting telling him.
There was a long silence. They both went back to perusing the menu. Abruptly Dan stood up. ‘I’d better order. Have you decided yet?’
When he returned to the table he had brought her another glass of wine. ‘Has Will been in touch?’
‘He’s phoned my mobile a few times.’
‘And?’
‘And nothing.’
There was a pause. When she didn’t elaborate he went on. ‘And Ashley? Has he phoned you too?’
She sighed. ‘Ash broke into my flat just before I left. He brought me some flowers to say thanks for teaching him.’
‘Broke in?’ Dan echoed. ‘What do you mean, broke in?’
‘I found the flowers on my coffee table. I suppose I could have left the door open but I don’t think so.’
‘You weren’t there?’
‘No.’
‘And he’d gone when you came back?’
She nodded. ‘I was only gone about ten minutes, Dan. He must have been watching for me. It scared me.’
‘But you’re safe now.’
She nodded. ‘Do you know what he is going to do this summer while he’s waiting for his results?’
He shook his head. ‘He’s convinced they will be good. He’s a cocky lad, our Ash. He thinks the drama schools will be queuing up for him.’
‘And he doesn’t even need A levels to apply for those.’
‘No.’
They both glanced up as their food arrived. ‘It would be a shame to spoil his chances. It would destroy them if he ended up with a prison record,’ Dan said quietly as he picked up his knife and fork. He looked up at her at last. ‘Don’t think about him, Jess. Or Will, for that matter. Forget about them. Enjoy your summer.’ He took a mouthful of food. ‘So, what are you planning to get up to in that old farmhouse of Steph’s?’
‘I’m painting.’ Jess was looking down at her plate.
‘On your own?’
She nodded.
‘And you’re happy with that?’
‘I’m fine with that, Dan. I like being on my own.’
‘With a ghost?’
She gave an uncomfortable smile. ‘They are not frightening ghosts. Just little girls.’
