“Of course, but I can’t take it off,” the girl repeated.
Taking a magnifying glass from her desk drawer, she looked at the torque in detail. The paper copy was almost exact, but as she touched it Gwen was amazed to feel it was so warm. It seemed to have a pulse of its own. There was a small notch in the centre at the back; it was a strange shape, as if something fitted into it. It reminded Gwen of the groove of a tongue and groove joint.
“The writing is very old. I’m going to have to look at some of my books at home before I can confirm what you’ve told me. How is it you can read this?”
“I just can.”
“How long have you had it?”
“I feel I’ve always had it, but I suppose in truth, not that long. I was drawn to it.”
“Where was it?”
“In the tree.”
Gwen gasped, for the girl didn’t call it ‘Tamsyn’s oak’, or ‘an oak’, but ‘the tree’, as if it was the only one of any importance.
“Tell me?”
Tamsyn told her about the vision and finding the torque. She omitted to tell her about being Allun, as she was never sharing that with anyone. He was dead, so no one ever need know the manner of his passing.
“Where are you from?”
Tamsyn hesitated, but then, staring Gwen in the eye she replied with the words that almost made the woman faint again.
“The tree.”
“How do you mean?”
“I have no past. I was created in the tree as you see me now. I have to know my quest!”
Everything became clear to Gwen at that moment. This was why she existed, as her purpose was being fulfilled. She thought she must feel similar to John the Baptist when he encountered Jesus in the river.
“Where are you staying?”
Tamsyn told her.
Gwen nodded, “Mary’s a good woman; you’ll be fine there. But, what if the police ask who you are?”
Tamsyn shrugged.
“Right, then, we need to sort out something. What story did you give Mary?”
The girl told her.
“Hmm, tricky. I think you made it a bit complicated. Why did you say that? What about the address you gave?”
Tamsyn shrugged again, “It all just came to me.”
“All right, I’ll do some checking.” She stared at the girl, who simply smiled innocently back at her.
“Are you really what you say?” Gwen asked.
“I haven’t said I’m anything.”
“No, but you said you were created by the tree?”
Tamsyn almost told the woman the truth, but then, decided that the truth was a matter of perspective.
“I promise that who I am now was begun in the tree, so this girl has no past beyond yesterday.”
Gwen frowned, “Were you someone else?”
“I am now whom you see. If I was anyone else, they neither matter nor do they exist anymore.”
Nodding, Gwen mulled over the girl’s words.
“Fine, then I’ll do what I can. I suggest you return to the tree and see if you get any inspiration from it. You never know, it may hold some answers.”
“I think I have to find the sword.” Tamsyn said, slightly hesitantly.
At the mention, Gwen instantly knew to which sword she referred.
“Why?”
“Because that’s what needs to be done.”
“The legend says it went back into the lake.”
“I don’t believe the legend, as I have to return it to the lake. The Saxons took it. God knows where it is now.”
The bell announced that another customer had arrived. Switching to English, Gwen said, “I’m so pleased you’ve come to see me. You must pop round to my cottage.”
With that, she scribbled her address on a post-it note and handed it to the girl.
“I’ll see you later, thanks.”
Gwen watched the girl walk out into the sunshine. She smiled, as her life had some real meaning at long last.
Miriam had got nowhere with the police. They were helpful and sympathetic, but there wasn’t much they could do until the coast guard and other search units came back with something positive.
“Unfortunately, you have to wait. He isn’t legally dead until he’s been missing for a specific period of time, I think it’s a year and a day,” said the young constable.
“So what do I do?”
“Is your husband insured?”
“I guess so, I don’t know for sure.”
“Then, my sergeant has contacted the American Embassy. They might well send someone to help you get this all sorted out. I’m sure they’ll advise you that on your arrival back in America, you should inform the insurance company and wait and see what happens. He may just turn up.”
“Oh yeah. Like how?”
“He may be in a hospital somewhere, having no memory or unconscious or something.”
“You sent the photos out, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but it takes time to filter through the system. He’s not in any local hospitals, and we are making enquiries with ones further away. The coastguard has all the information, and we've passed everything to Interpol, even though his passport is in our property office.”
Miriam seemed about to cry again. John had seen her get through half a box of tissues already.
“Okay, I’m gonna go back home. You have all my details and numbers, don’t you?”
“We do. We’ll get in touch as soon as there’s any news.”
Miriam really didn’t know if Allun was worth anything. She dimly recalled him stating he’d taken out decent life insurance so the kids would be okay if anything happened to him. That had been a long time ago, now.
She returned to the guesthouse, and Mary told her that someone from the American Embassy called. She rang them back, and one of the Embassy staff assisted her by contacting the car rental agency and the airline. Miriam didn’t want to drive in Britain, as it scared the willies out of her. So, they arranged for the car to be collected and then made the necessary arrangements for her to go to the station to collect a train ticket for her to get a train to London, where she was to spend one night before flying back to America. The Embassy official would meet her at the station in London and ensure she was looked after until she flew home.
While Tamsyn walked towards the oak, Miriam was already on her way to London.
Tamsyn stood underneath the spreading branches of the mighty tree. She felt as if she’d come home; the atmosphere was so welcoming for her. Touching the torque with her fingers, she circled the tree staring up into the branches. It seemed a lifetime ago that she first came here, yet it was only a single day.
She stopped walking around, sitting instead on the mossy ground with her back resting against the trunk. With both hands on the torque, she closed her eyes.
She experienced an amazing feeling of peace, so relaxed and enjoyed the warmth of the sun and the security of the great tree.
Suddenly, she felt cold, so opened her eyes.
She was still seated exactly where she’d been, but she knew that she was some-when else.
For a start, the tree was suddenly bereft of leaves, marking a change of season to winter. Some of the trees were different, so Tamsyn knew that the time was back many centuries.
She hugged her knees, knowing she would see something that was meant for her.
A man came into the clearing. He walked as if he was old, wearing a dark hooded cloak and carrying a stout staff. Tamsyn saw he was wearing plain sandals on his bare feet, despite the frost on the ground. He approached the tree as if she wasn’t there, stopping just a foot away. He looked up at the tree, the hood slipping back from his face.
His face was gnarled, showing he’d had a tough life, rarely out of the weather. His eyes, however, showed deep compassion and wisdom. Grasping his staff with both hands, he leaned upon it, taking a rest.
“Oh, lady of the tree, how we miss you. Help a poor pilgrim find the right path,” he said. The language wasn’t English, but Tamsyn understood it. It was Celtic in origin, perhaps closer than the modern examples of Cornish, Welsh and Breton, so she sat engrossed.