Читать книгу Child of the Phoenix - Barbara Erskine - Страница 30

Einion stood patiently in the shadow of the wall, his arms folded, his eyes closed. He would know when she was near. He had long ago schooled himself in the absolute control of his emotions. Until he needed them, until he wanted to act he was relaxed, to an outsider indifferent, even asleep as the russet evening sun pierced the boughs of a mountain ash tree near the doorway to the great hall at Aber and warmed the rusty black of his mantle. In the silence he could hear the chuckling water in the river below as it tumbled over its rocky bed.

When Rhonwen walked around the corner, he opened his eyes and put out a hand to grasp her wrist.

‘Where is she?’

Rhonwen caught her breath with fear. ‘I left you a message. There was nothing I could do.’

‘Where is she?’

‘With her father.’ The low sun was shining directly into her eyes.

‘You must send her to me.’

‘She won’t come.’

‘She must.’ He tightened his grip. ‘I have to see her again. I have to have her oath, child though she is.’ His eyes were deep and expressionless like still lake water. ‘I do not want to lose her; the gods, my gods, want her for their own. It must be soon or she will slip from me. And without me, without them, she will not know how to control her visions and will live in torment for the rest of her life.’ He paused. ‘You brought her here to avoid me.’

Faced with that cool all-seeing gaze, Rhonwen did not dare to deny it. ‘She was so frightened,’ she heard herself pleading. ‘Besides, I could not stop her. She tried to swim … she’s so young – ’

‘It’s because she is young that she needs me so much.’ He released her suddenly. ‘She’s too young to understand the powers she has been given. She needs strength and guidance.’

‘She doesn’t want to see you again. Please, Lord Einion. Wait a little; just until she is older.’ Rhonwen despised herself for her weakness, but she could not help herself.

He took a deep breath. ‘That is not possible, my lady. I have to see her again. Now, today. Bring her to me.’

‘What if she won’t come?’

‘She will come. Tell her that her father has commanded her to visit the hermit of the woods.’ He smiled cynically. ‘Tell her there is a horse for her to see. Tell her there are blackberries to pick. I am sure you can think of something. Bring her to me, Lady Rhonwen. You begged me to see to it that her marriage is annulled, but I will not do that until she has been initiated and blessed. Only after that shall I see that she belongs to no man. Bring her to me – now. I shall wait by the river beyond the village.’

Rhonwen stared after him. He had not waited for her agreement; he merely turned and walked away from the wall, beneath the gatehouse and down the hill towards the village with its mill and forge and church and the huddle of houses where the harp maker, the silversmith, the potter and the tradesmen and craftsmen lived, side by side with the twenty-four families who farmed the Aber land. He raised his hand in greeting and blessing to the men and women he passed.

Rhonwen swallowed hard. She did not dare to disobey him.