‘Well, OK, you probably don’t, I just wanted you to know that…’
‘…that you didn’t mean to be late, and it wasn’t your fault, and it was work. I know,’ she said. And then, her shoulders sagging a little, she added, more quietly. ‘I know, Dad.’
‘I am sorry, Pumpkin. Really.’ He reached over and squeezed her hand and she let him. A truce, then. They drove on in silence for a while, the tension fading. At last he tried again. ‘So, tournament coming up. How ready do you feel?’
‘Less ready than I should.’
‘No, really? You’ve got this.’
‘School’s been hectic, last of the exams, I haven’t done as many training sessions as I did this time last year…’
‘When you nailed it, correct me if I’m wrong.’
‘Yes, but this is a rank up. The competition’s getting tougher. I have to be better than my best.’
He nodded, knowing that she wanted to be heard, not argued with.
‘OK, let’s schedule in another couple of training sessions.’
‘When for? The gym’s fully booked most times I can make it. Everyone who’s got school wants the same slots.’
Tudor thought for a moment and an idea made itself known to him. ‘Actually, I might be able to help out with that.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. I’ve an… acquaintance at a seriously cool apartment block. They have a gym. Plenty of space. Plenty of availability too, I should imagine. Might be able to get you some time in there.’
She opened her mouth to find fault but then changed her mind, a small smile adding warmth to her pretty face. ‘How cool?’ she asked.
The rest of the journey passed in comfortable banter and chat. Since he and Marisa had separated he had treasured the time he got to spend with his daughter. He was thankful their shared passion for marshal arts gave them something to work on together. They arrived at the gym less late than they had anticipated. He parked up and took her bag for her as they headed for the entrance. It was only as he held the door open for her that he glimpsed a four-by-four at the corner of the car park. Only then that he noticed the two figures inthe vehicle. Even through the slant of the window and the fading light of the day he was fairly certain that they were the same two men he had seen watching the Aurora building. With a flash of adrenaline shooting through him, he put on his most natural smile, turned, and followed Emily into the building.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Black Mountains, Wales 1084
The high valley was to become their new home. Gwen was not the only one to escape the attack with serious injuries, so it was decided that they would settle as best they could, giving the wounded time to heal, before making any decisions about their future. There was the possibility that de Chapelle would come looking for Gwen, if word reached him she was living, so nothing must be done that might give away their whereabouts. It was two weeks before she herself was able to walk again unaided, and a further week before Mamgi would allow her to venture beyond sight of the croft. When at last she was deemed fit to walk, she slipped away to explore her surroundings. The shepherd’s dwelling to which they had fled was nestled into the side of the hill at the very end of the narrow valley beyond the village. Known as Blaencwm - or valley’s top - because of its remote position, the croft consisted of a tiny house and a slightly larger byre. The buildings were made of rough stone, with thatched roofs that came almost to the ground, so constructed as to resistthe persistent rain and heavy winter snowfalls. The house had one door, one window, and a hole above the hearth that was not quite a chimney, so that it did not quite remove all the smoke from the interior. The window had no glass, only shutters, and the door was weathered and warped so that when pulled open it dragged over the packed earth floor inside. Unusually, the little barn was separate from the house, set at an angle to it, so that a small yard was formed, giving extra shelter for humans and animals alike.
The farmstead had been built against the weather, so that it was tucked into the lee of the steep hill that rose to become mountain behind it. Its position allowed the shepherd to be near his flock in winter, so that they could have his protection from storms and predators while they accessed the sparse but abundant grazing the uplands provided. The crofter would stay alone in his isolated home all winter, as the route to the village would, for many months, be blocked by snow or rendered treacherous by flood, mud or ice. It was this very remoteness and inaccessibility that now made the insignificant house a vital refuge for Gwen and the villagers.
There was one other aspect of the location that meant it was a good choice for a long term hideout. Situated a short walk below the croft was a small, wooded rivervale. It was here that Gwen took her first solitary walk after her convalescence. She descended the slope carefully, knowing that the late summer grass could be slippery, and wary of setting back her recovery with a fall. She had not made a good patient, fretting at her confines, longing to be outside, wanting to help with the construction of the settlement, or indeed do anything at all useful. At last she could move freely, and the joy of being in such glorious woodland brought from her the smile she feared she had lost along with her beloved parents. It still caused her pain to think of them lying unburied, or possibly flung into a communal pit or onto a carelessly lit pyre by the new Lord of Cwmdu. Rufus had confirmed that her mother was dead, but Mamgi had refused to allow him to talk further about the matter until Gwen was stronger. Now, as she walked between the mossy oaks and rowan trees, she wondered if she was ready to face the truth of what had happened. She paused, resting her hand against the trunk of a blackthorn, letting her palm feel the complex texture of the bark. So much would never be as it was before; there was solace to be found in the unchanging nature of the landscape. The trees still reached up, twisting to find the light among so many others competing for space in the steep valley. The birds still nested and raised their young, which fledged and flew andsang among the branches of those same trees. The adder would still bask on a sunny rock while the days were yet warm. The owl would swoop silently at night to feast on unwary mice and voles. Foxes still shrieked beneath a pearly moon at the end of each day.
Gwen reached the swift stream that rose from the spring a hundred strides further up the valley. She lowered herself somewhat stiffly to sit on a flat sandstone slab, her feet hanging just above the fast flowing water. She tugged the tie from her braid, releasing her long black hair to swing free. For a moment she sat with her eyes closed, listening to the birdsong, letting the dappled light through leaves of the overhanging boughs play on her eyelids, breathing in the subtle scents of the woodland. She felt her whole being, her body, her spirit, soothed. When she opened her eyes it was in time to see a kingfisher dart by, a flash of iridescent blue and keen intent. She briefly envied him his vitality, knowing that it would take her more time yet to regain her strength fully. She ran her hands over the fine wool of the only dress she possessed. It had been washed and patched with care, but it still bore its own scar where the dagger’s blade had entered her belly. She thought ruefully of how it was her own treasured knife that had nearly killed her, and that had, grandmother Williams had gently told her, robbed herof the chance of ever having a child of her own. Searching for a glimmer of light to come from such sadness, all she could find was that her parents were spared the painful disappointment of having no grandchild.
A familiar voice broke into her reverie, startling her. ‘If the wind changes, your face will be forever fixed fast in that glum arrangement,’ said Mamgi,appearing from the woodland to stand at the sunlit edge of the stream. She leaned on her hazel staff, narrowing her eyes at Gwen.
‘Grandmother, how came you here? By the stars, you move faster than a sprinting hare.’ Gwen reached down and unlaced her soft leather boots, pulling them from her feet to set them down on the rock beside her. She stretched out her toes to dip them into the mountain-cold water, revived by the shock of it.
‘I am as fast as needs be to watch over you,merch.’
‘Mamgi, you have seen me brought back to good health, and I will be forever thankful. You are no longer bound to me. I am healed, as you see.’ She smiled then, one of the broad, sunny smiles for which she was known.
The old woman nodded. ‘You are recovered from your wound, as much as ever you shall be, it is true. What you must come to understand is that this is butthe beginning. A long and rock-strewn path lies ahead of you, and you will not tread it alone.’
‘Of course, all of us must help each other. It has been agreed we should rest here until spring. With a winter to test us, there is much to be done.’
‘A winter and more.’
‘You do not trust me to stay put, I think. Is that why you fret so? I have agreed, as have we all, that we cannot risk returning to Cwmdu, nor venturing from this place, until all are well. And until our allies have regained control of the area.’
