Had she known this would happen? The chance that will present itself. It sounded as if she had, for here we stood, desperate to get away from men who wanted to kill us, and with no boat, and the ferrymen long gone home for the night, what other choice was there?
But I was afraid! Just when the waters had begun to recede, it had rained again, and once more the sound of hungry lapping could be heard all around the island. And I was expected to find a safe way across the dark water and the deathly, sucking mud. .
My aunt had added something else: she had said, You will not fail. I trusted her. If she said I could do a task, she was invariably right.
I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath and said, ‘Come on. There’s a safe way.’
I strode off down the track that led to the water, and, to my surprise, without a word they followed me.
Two things worried me as I hurried along. The first, naturally, was just how I was to go about finding these safe ways. The monks knew, or one or two of them did, for they had betrayed the secret to the Conqueror during the rebellion of 1071. Where did the ways begin though? How was I to find my starting point? In the absence of any other idea, I decided to pace slowly along the water’s edge and, using my dowser’s sensitivity, wait to see what called out to me. It sounded straightforward and, indeed, usually I had no trouble in putting myself into the light trance that allowed me to pick up the clear and unmistakable signs. But now three lives depended on me, one of them my own, and I was to say the least a little anxious.
Breathe deeply, I heard my aunt say. Put aside everything else and concentrate. The ways are there and will reveal themselves to you. Be calm.
Her voice soothed and comforted me as it always did, and I sent her my swift thanks. She was on my mind, in my mind, for the other thing that worried me was that she and Hrype were on the island. I thought — hoped — they were perfectly safe, for Lord Edmund did not know of their existence and had no reason to hunt them down or harm them. And, really, I had no choice. The two guards might have lost our trail for the moment, but I was in no doubt that Lord Edmund had already summoned more men and even now they were fanning out to begin the search. There was just no time to go back, explain to Edild and somehow get Hrype to his feet and fit for a perilous journey across dangerous ground and sinster, treacherous water.
They would understand. I prayed that they would.
Rollo must also have been thinking about Lord Edmund’s pursuit. ‘How long will this take?’ he said, close beside me.
‘I don’t know.’ I paused, not sure how to explain. ‘I have to sense where the crossing begins,’ I said.
I felt his astonishment flare briefly, but he controlled it. As if he understood that I did not want to be distracted, he simply nodded and fell back to walk beside Gewis.
We had been pacing along the water’s edge for some time. Nothing had as yet touched against my mind or my outstretched hands, and I was starting to think that I hadn’t been doing it right and would have to start again. I stopped, breathed deeply in and out and made myself relax, from my toes to the crown of my head. I closed my eyes and asked the spirit guardians for help. I summoned my animal guide, and in my mind I thought I saw Fox materialize beside me. His mouth was open, tongue flapping, and it looked as if he were grinning. Then I stretched out my hands, and almost straight away I felt the familiar tingle.
My eyes shot open. For an instant I saw the path over the water lit up by a purplish-blue light, snaking to and fro across the fen. I stared at it, trying to fix it in my mind. I took very careful note of where it began, then I hurried off to the place where we must set out.
Unless you were a dowser, you really wouldn’t find it unless someone told you where it was for there was not a thing to mark it out. It was just a stretch of shore, with a meadow and some alders. The slope of the ground was quite gentle and a spit of land led out into the water. Just beyond, in the last place you would expect, the secret way began.
Without pausing I stepped out on to it. The water rose up to my ankles but the ground beneath my feet was firm. That was no surprise, for this part of the shore was normally above the water line. I knew that the going would get progressively more difficult, as indeed it did.
Quite soon we were up to our knees. The water was very cold, but fortunately there was no wind and so its surface was smooth. I paced on, growing familiar now with the sensations coursing up through the palms of my outstretched hands so that I made fewer mistakes. Mistakes were dangerous; the first time my foot had headed down into deep water, it had only been Rollo’s quick reaction and his iron-hard hand on my arm that had saved me.
Sometimes I had to stop because I simply did not know which way the path went next. Then I would have to fight my terror and swiftly turn my thoughts from the image of the three of us lost in the middle of the fen, unable to go forward or back, standing there until weakness and cold made us collapse into the dark water and drown.
No. It really was best not to think of that.
It seemed to take hours. My two companions could not actively help me for only I could find the way, but they did not complain once, and I was strengthened by their obvious faith in me. Whether or not I deserved it remained to be seen.
Shortly before dawn, when the first pale glow was just beginning to appear in the east, I came to a complete halt. I tried to calm myself, closing my eyes and asking the spirits to guide me. Fox was puzzled — I had a glimpse of him casting this way and that. In my mind I saw the dark water before me. No helpful lights shone to show me the secret path. I did not know what to do.
We stood there for a long time.
Then I felt a light touch on my arm. Opening my eyes, I turned to see Rollo. He was smiling. Slowly he raised his hand and pointed.
I followed the direction of his arm and I understood. The light was waxing strongly now — it was going to be a lovely day — and I saw what he had seen.
The reason why I could no longer make out the path was because I didn’t need to. Firm ground rose up before us.
We had made it.
I wish I’d had some warning. I wish I’d had the time, at some point in that extraordinary night, to think it through. As it was, he took me totally by surprise and the devastation hit me before I could get up the smallest, feeblest defence.
Gewis had thrown himself on his back on the damp grass, his arm over his eyes, and I could see that he was shaking. The crossing of the fens had cost him dear. I was about to go over to offer him comfort when Rollo caught my hand and led me a few paces away. Then he put his arms around me, pulled me against him and kissed me.
The kiss was hard and it went on for a long time. I had never before experienced the sensations that coursed through me, and all I could think as I melted into him was: so this is what it’s like. I felt my heart leave me to join with his. I wanted to bed him there and then. I knew I loved him.
He broke away. He stood staring down at me, his dark eyes fierce, the pupils wide. I reached up my hand to trace the pale scar that ran through his eyebrow and, reminded, gasped as I recalled the wound on his neck.
He read my thought. ‘It’s all right, I’ve bandaged it,’ he said shortly. I knew from his tone that he did not want me to look. Gently, he touched my cheek. ‘You’ll have a scar, Lassair,’ he said softly.
I had forgotten my own wound. Now, reminded, it throbbed and I gasped at the pain. I would have to get Edild to stitch it, and that would make it hurt even more than it did now.
I managed a smile. ‘We’ll both be scarred then.’
He held my shoulders. He was staring at me with such intensity that I was afraid. I opened my mind to his, and what I read made me gasp in pain. ‘No,’ I whispered.