Chapter Nineteen - Forgotten
The first thing she became aware of was the pain. Her jaw was throbbing and she had an aggressive headache. She wanted nothing more than to lie down, moan and not move.
‘Shouldn’t have tried to run, should you!’
She opened her eyes. That was it. Nothing else wanted to move. She realised she was lodged in a musty armchair, her cheek resting on the faded brocade fabric, her legs and arms dangling, limp. He was sat opposite her at a kitchen table, his grey hair long to his shoulders, a red tinged beard flared to his chest, his hollowed eyes trained on her.
‘Next time don’t run. Simple as that,’ he said. ‘Then I won’t have to teach you a lesson.’
He was dressed in dark work trousers, and a heavy shirt. Sitting down, he was still unmistakeably large. His long legs reached far across to the other side of the table. His elbows rested on the table, his arms were thick with muscles, his huge hands, tough and callused, lay flat on the table. In many ways he looked like so many of the workmen she had seen employed at the affluent southern schools she had drifted through. One thing set him apart and made fear spike her belly. He looked identical to the portrait she had seen hanging in the Great Hall. He was the Baron McTarn.
‘You do what I say, and everything will be fine.’
She just stared at him. She didn’t want to open her mouth or nod her head.
‘I’ve been forgetting my manners. I haven’t introduced myself. I’m so sorry. It’s just I feel I know you so well already, I’ve been watching you for a long time. I forget you don’t know me.’
As he spoke, he surveyed the whole of her body, from her loose, wild hair, to the tips of her white, thin fingers. He examined her as he might a new pet, wanting to see if it was in good condition, waiting to see how it would react.
‘I’m Don, and you’re my girl from now on, and you and I are going to get on just fine,’ he tipped back on his chair, relaxed. ‘I hear that no one else wants you, no-one but me. I’ve been waiting a long time for a girl like you.’
He pushed back his chair, stood up, and loomed over Lennox.
'Let's have a look then. I want to see this mark.’
She stared at him blankly, confused, afraid.
‘Take off your clothes and show me the mark.’
His words made no sense. Nothing made sense. He was not the Baron McTarn. He was just plain Don. But somehow he knew about her. Somehow he knew about her secret shame. She sat, in pain, but numb inside.
Don narrowed his eyes.
'If you don't undress, then I’ll do it for you.'
She understood this. It made sense. Amongst all the horror, and disbelief and fear, this one fact made cold sense, and she did not want him undressing her, touching her. So she rose to her feet. She brought her fingers unsteadily to her throat, curled them round the neck of her hoody. He settled himself on the edge of her armchair, his eyebrows raised, his mouth twitching. She lifted the hoody, slowly up over her chin, then gently over her head, and dropped it on the chair behind. Underneath she was wearing a thick, long sleeved base layer, stolen from a chest of lost property she had discovered at Calgacos. It was tight fitting and warm, and in better condition than anything else she owned.
‘Why have you stopped?’ he asked. ‘It’s all got to come off.’
She swallowed.
‘No one knows you’re here,’ he added. ‘And no one cares. Do they? Your father’s on the other side of the world, and even if he knew you were here, I think he’d be relieved. Off his hands at last, that’s how he’d see this little arrangement. So, you’re mine now. You do what I say. And I want that top off!’
His voice hardened, and his fists tightened. Hastily she brought her fingers to her throat, and lifted the base layer. It caught on her chin, and pain shot through her jaw. She closed her eyes against the pain, and lifted the top over her chin, and off. The cold air brought instant goose bumps to her pale skin.
Don stared at her smooth, white breasts, cupped in an old red bra, slightly too small. This one she had acquired slyly, darting into a dorm she knew was empty, searching the underwear drawer of a girl her age until she found what she needed. If she had waited for her dad to take her shopping for underwear, she would still be in vests.
This time there was a longer pause. It was easier to let him stare at her breasts, not her back.
But he knew what he was looking for, and he was still waiting.
‘Well?’ he prompted.
She turned and shut her eyes.
Don swore once, then lapsed into silence. He did not move. The stillness was an abyss. Her fate, she knew, teetered on a knife edge.
Behind her, Don moved. Something flew past her elbow, and the silence splintered with a smash. A mug lay on the floor in front of her, broken into fragments when it hit the wall. A dark stain marked the wall and floor.
Don’s hand landed on her shoulder, gripped like nails into her flesh, and turned her round.
‘I think I like this view best,’ he growled. His hand swiped down, and tore her bra from her breasts. It dangled, uselessly, from one shoulder, still covering one breast, the other breast open, like a flower, but pale like the moon.
She screamed.
She knew at once that was a mistake.
Like an animal unleashed, her scream released Don. He howled, and struck her hard on the cheek. She staggered back, into a chair, twisted, turned and ran. But there was nowhere to go. Don moved quicker than her, blocking the front door. The only path away from him lead to the back of the cottage, to the bedrooms. So she ran to the very last place she wanted to go, and Don followed her. She careered into a bedroom, horrifically, deceptively normal, with a rose eiderdown, floral curtains, a sash window. She sprinted to the window, but Don was unexpectedly quick. Before her hands reached the pane, he seized her by the waist, and hurled her to the floor.
‘You’re gonna have to earn your keep somehow,’ he told her, unbuckling his belt. ‘That overgrown wart on your back was not what I had in mind.’
She scrambled backwards, her bra falling to the floor, her breasts rippling. Her terror moved her limbs, not her mind. Inside she was screaming, but outside the room was quiet.
She was still screaming in her head when she felt his hands on her trousers, unzipping, pulling, rough and quick. She stopped when she noticed the bedside lamp. It was ivory, and delicate, with gold painted edges, and it was incongruous. Out of place. Like her.
She didn’t hear the other voice at first. Her focus was caught like a fish on a hook, spiked in its throat. She stared at the ivory lamp, cold as statue, and his hands were an obscure menace, a faraway touch.
‘You’re making a mistake,’ said a distant voice.
Don snarled, shook her as if she had spoken and defied him, then reared up and away from her.
‘Don’t bother trying the window,’ he growled before he left the room, ‘it won’t work, and then I’ll just have to teach you another lesson.’
At first, she couldn’t wrench her vision from the lamp. She was sure she had seen one before, in one of her previous schools, just like it.
She was dimly aware of Don disappearing through the open doorway, speaking to someone outside.
‘Why else did you send me her?’
‘Have you looked at her?’ Came the reply. Whoever had joined Don spoke softly, she strained to hear their words.
‘She’s not marked.’ Don stated.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. I know what I’m doing. Don’t forget, I’ve been doing this longer than you. And I’m telling you, all she’s got is a bloody birthmark, hairy as a baboon’s arse, too. Bit of a shock after her nice pretty face and tits.’
‘Maybe she’s not ready…’
But Don had had enough.
‘And maybe she’ll never be ready. That’s not why she’s here though, is it?’
No reply.
‘Is it?’ Don repeated. ‘The real reason she’
s here is her face and tits. You didn’t really care about the mark. You just liked her. And I don’t blame you, so do I. And if you don’t mind, I was just about to enjoy myself.’
‘Don’t touch her.’
This was loud as day and clear as cloudless night.
Lennox startled, and sat up. She knew that voice.
‘Enough about the girl,’ barked Don. ‘She is what she is. I might find a use for her, yet. But you need to be thinking about what you were supposed to be doing. I didn’t send you there to hunt for pretty girls. I want to know who’s marked. If it’s not her, then who? They’ve got someone. I’m sure of it. I can sense their excitement.’
His voice rose in abrupt anger.
‘Do you have you any idea? Or have been so distracted you’ve not given it a thought.’
‘I thought it was her…But maybe you’re right. There is someone else...’
‘So go back. Find them. And send them to me. And this time, get it right. Remember, you’ve got to look for someone different. Maybe they’re fast, maybe they’re secretive, or strong. Something will make them different. It could be the Masters are keeping them separate. I don’t know exactly what, but there will be a sign, if you’re only smart enough to see it. And then you get them close to the border. I’ll come and do the rest.’
‘It won’t take long.’
‘Good. Now get back, before you’re missed.’ Don commanded.
The two men drifted away. There was little to hear but the subdued sounds of life. A click of a door. The kettle turned on. A TV droning. Don was going to leave her alone, for now.
But who was the visitor? She recognised the voice, but couldn’t place it. He had come from Calgacos; and he knew her. He was the reason she was here. But she had no clue who he was. He could be anyone. She might never have spoken to him, only heard his voice in the background somewhere. All she knew was he was as sly as Don was terrifying; he had betrayed her, cold bloodedly. And now he was going back to Calgacos to strike again. Lennox felt sick.
She stood up slowly. Zipped her trousers. Snatched her bra from the floor. It was only when she tried to hook it on, she noticed her hands were as unsteady as an old man’s. It took a long time for her to pull all her clothes back on. Her skin was ash white, goose bumps spread down her arms. She fumbled like a child, her hands clumsy, unwieldy. After an eternity, she lowered herself, dressed, onto the bed, and wound her arms tight, like a rope, round her chest.
She lay still, but awake, for a long time. She did not know what to do, what to think. She heard Don turn off the TV, wash, then stand in her doorway. She kept her eyes closed and her body rigid.
‘Don’t touch her,’ he’d said, the other one, the Calgacos one. But he wasn’t here now.
The floor creaked, and Don moved, across the hallway, crashed into his bed, where he tossed and turned for a long time, then finally lay still. She could hear the fridge hum in the kitchen. There was an unidentified ticking come from somewhere in the living room. Outside, there was a burst of rain; it died as suddenly as it came.
In the half light of the moon through her naked sash window, she studied the simple catch. All she had to do was flick it, and lift the window. It looked unlocked, despite what Don had said. She had to try it. He was asleep. It was the perfect time. He wouldn’t be able to ‘teach her lesson’ if she was gone.
She thought of the alternative; what it would be like to wake up in the morning still here. She thought of Don, eating his breakfast, his dark eyes on her. She thought of another whole day with him, and another night, lying awake in the dark, her door opposite his door. Him standing watching her. What would she do if he came in? What would he do?
Now, at least, he was deeply asleep. There had been no noise from his room for a long time.
She sat up, sat still, and listened. Still nothing. She slid her feet, bare, onto the floor. She rose, slowly, to her feet and took step, by step, across the room to the window. The catch was cold to touch. Her fingers curled round it, held it tight until she could smell it. Outside the rain was falling gently again, like a broken shower. It was difficult to see anything but the dark window pane.
She pulled the handle sharp towards her, and screamed. A loud explosion filled her left ear, deafening her. Instinctively, she let go of the handle, and felt her ear, her cheek, but there was nothing to feel but her cold skin. It was an alarm, and it had served his purpose. Across the hallway, a bed was creaking.
She had seconds to act. She put her hands on the window casement and pushed up. It slid upwards an inch, then stuck, and from across the hall she could hear footsteps. She gritted her teeth, braced herself, and pushed up, hard. The window stayed stuck, then flew up so hard she fell forwards and banged the top of her head on the lower lip of the window.
‘You’re mine,’ came a roar from behind.
Her heart exploded with fear. She threw herself head first out the window. She landed on soft earth, jolting her head, and causing her sore jaw to throb in anger. But there was no time. She scrambled to her feet and started to run. When she looked back, Don was vaulting out the window, feet first. She ran down the grass path, and veered onto the stony track, her jaw pulsing. She tried to ignore the pain, focus only on running, but, moments later, she tripped on an unseen hole in the track, and fell heavily. Don was on top of her at once, a knee in her back. He twisted both her arms behind her back and pinned them in place; then pulled her head up by her hair.
‘You had to try, didn’t you? I knew you would.’
She couldn’t speak. The pressure on her jaw was enormous. The pain was overwhelming. She knew nothing but pain until Don grunted suddenly, let go of her hair, and her arms, and swayed sideways.
He righted himself slowly, his knee still on Lennox’s back. But he was attacked again, kicked in the back. He lost his balance and toppled over. Freed, Lennox scrambled to her feet, and stared, mute, at her rescuer, who was hovering over Don, and crouched, like a tiger, ready to fight. She had never seen him like this before. But she recognised him straightaway. Kellas.
On the ground, Don stirred. Kellas aimed one sharp kick at his head, and then was by her side.
Come.
He touched her, lightly, on the back. It was what she needed. Seconds later they were running. Behind them, Don was moaning and clambering to his feet.
Hurry.
In the dark, beside her, Kellas was a shadow. She was dimly aware of his outline only. Her jaw was throbbing again, making it hard to run. She could not stop herself from slowing, and looking behind.
Don was moving, his vast frame breaking into a sprint, his features eclipsed by the darkness. But it was not Don who made her turn back to Kellas, and scream in terror.
It was the wolf. It was out pacing Don, gaining on them, its ragged coat wet with saliva from its open mouth, its teeth curved like sabres, glistening wet. It had no right to be in Scotland. It had been wiped out from the country more than three hundred years ago, hunted and hated for its habit of attacking humans. Yet it had appeared from nowhere and was racing to attack, responding to Don like a pet labrador.
She saw Kellas turn his head. She knew he’d seen it, for he grabbed her hand and pulled her hard away from the track and up the valley. The grass was knee high, and thick as reeds. They could no longer sprint, but neither would the wolf run as fast as it had.
Faster. Just a little more.
They reached a copse of trees, Kellas directed them right to its heart.
Stay there.
With one hand he pointed to the ground ahead.
I’ll be back.
Then he was gone. There was no chance to protest. No chance to follow. Back down the slope, straight towards the wolf.
Lennox rose to her feet. She hated the idea of staying put. She hated being in the dark, not knowing what was happening. But Kellas had told her to wait. Kellas, who had come for her, when she thought no one would.
From further down the slope, the sounds of a struggle drifted
: shouts, scuffles, and worse; a guttural growl. Seconds later Kellas burst out of the darkness, running at speed, while below, the sounds continued.
Come!
He swooped down on her, took hold of her hand, and set off, across the hillside, angling in a new direction.
‘What did you do?’
From below, there was an explosion of animal screams. Then Don, cursing loud enough to fill the valley.
‘What’s happening back there?’
‘Just run.’
They ran as fast as she could manage, Kellas always slightly ahead, pulling her, forcing the pace. Behind them, the valley fell silent. Too silent.
They reached a track, and Kellas relaxed his grip; he let her run at her own pace.
‘We’ve still got a long way to go,’ he warned her.
They ran on the track for a good distance. The rain dissipated and the stars solidified above. The temperature dropped. Clouds of mist formed from their heavy breathing. Kellas veered off away from a clear path. She followed him through moorland, stopping finally at a ruined farmhouse.
She sat on an old broken wall, wrapped her arms round her body and shivered. She was wet to her skin, and numb.
‘Sit. Rest for a little while,’ he told her. ‘You’ll be safe here, now. There’s something I need to do.’
He turned back from where they had come.
‘Where are you going?’
She winced at the panic in her voice.
‘I will be back very, very soon,’ he promised. ‘I’m just... checking.’
She watched his retreating back until she was quite alone in a vast open heath. Then the shivers spread from her aching jaw, to her chest, and her arms. By the time Kellas returned, she was shaking violently.
He appeared from nowhere, sudden and swift. She let out a cry of alarm before she realised who it was.
‘It’s me,’ he said, and came straight to her side.
He sat down beside her. His shoulder next to hers.
‘You’re in shock.’
He put an arm round her back, and gently eased her whole body into his. She shut her eyes, but tears welled beneath her closed lids.
‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered. ‘I won’t leave you again.’
Then the shakes became sobs, and the tears rolled endlessly down her cheeks, but she would not let herself cry out loud. She forbid herself that weakness. Instead she opened her eyes and saw flames of gold in Kellas’ eyes, colours she had never seen before. He was both beautiful and somehow terrifying at the same time.
‘I’m ok,’ she told him.
In reply, he pulled her closer still, so her head tucked under his chin, resting on his warm chest.
‘How did you know?’ she asked. ‘How did you know he’d taken me? And where I was?’
She swallowed the urge to sob once more.
‘I didn’t know where you’d gone. I’ve been searching. That’s why it took me so long. But I knew you were taken because your real taxi came 15 minutes later.’
She sat up straight, and stared at him. It was just the two of them, alone for miles, and she found, for the first time, a look of unmistakable tenderness on his startling face.
‘So they knew, they all knew, what had happened, but only you came?’
His arm was still around her, but they sat level, face to face. His look of concern had been eclipsed. Now he was guarded, and tense. It was his customary face.
‘They said it was a simple mistake. They said the taxi company must have sent two cars by mistake.’
She did not need to know who ‘they’ was. She could guess. Kearns and the other Masters.
‘But you did not think it was a mistake.’
‘No,’ he focused on her once more. ‘There was no doubt in my mind. I knew he wanted you.’
The arm on her shoulder squeezed tighter, but he turned away, and looked across the land, back from where they had come.
‘He? Do you mean…’ She shuddered. She saw him again, watching her undress, staring at her as if she were a picture. ‘Do you mean Don?’
‘No. I had no idea he wanted you…’
‘Then who?’
Now he turned towards her and spoke to her, not to the night sky, or himself.
‘Duncan. I saw the way he looked at you. I saw how he was trying to bring you close. But I didn’t realise, not until today, who he was, and what he was prepared to do to get you. If I’d known, if I’d had the beginning of an idea of who he was, or what he had in mind, I never would have let you do the challenge cup with him.’
His arm slipped off her back. He stood up.
‘We should go. Don will still be out looking. He doesn’t give up.’
There was a moment’s hesitation while Kellas studied her. Then he pointed ahead.
‘See, there is a faint path here. We follow that.’
They ran across open land, where the dark night sky met the dark earth, and there was nothing to see but Kellas, broad and strong, running ahead. He ran tirelessly, and without seeming effort, stopping occasionally to turn and wait, for she fell behind. She had always tried to hide her ability to run. She had been too good. Embarrassingly good. But tonight, Kellas put her to shame.
‘How can you run like that?’ she asked.
He had stopped and was resting, balanced against a low, stunted tree, watching her.
‘Practice.’
‘It’s more than that.’
‘You should try it.’
‘What do you mean?’
There was nowhere to sit but wet grass, so she joined him leaning against the tree. He tilted his head so he was looking at her. They were close, again. But he didn’t appear unsettled but it. He was more relaxed than she had ever seen him.
‘Well, fitness is not running. Fitness means increasing your ability, pushing yourself to run further, faster. Can you honestly tell me you’ve done that?’
She hadn’t. She’d always been more concerned about hiding her ability, not improving it. But she wasn’t ready to be quite so honest with him.
‘Maybe.’
‘Maybe?’ he looked amused. ‘I think you’d know if you’ve pushed yourself.’
‘Is that what you do?’ she asked, trying to change the subject. She hated talking about herself.
‘Yes. Every night.’
‘Every night? Do you mean on top of all the fitness and endurance they make us do?’
‘Yes.’
He straightened up, and looked back the way they had come.
‘He’s not following, is he?’ she asked.
‘He’s not close. But...’
He regarded her critically.
‘But we should move. You need shelter, food, and warmth. Are you ready?’
‘Yes.’
They travelled on, more slowly than previously, Kellas not forcing the pace, but staying close, just in front, and making sure there were no more breaks. There were times when they ran under trees, and Kellas drew so close their shoulders brushed, and times when they climbed up slopes so steep, they scrambled over rocks. After one long, fierce climb, Kellas stopped again. The night sky was already diminished, like a fading mural, and a vein of gold glistened in the east.
‘We can take a short rest here,’ he decided
He leapt up onto a smooth boulder, and offered her a hand. She took it and he pulled her up to join him effortlessly.
‘This is the perfect place,’ he said.
She wasn’t shaking. She wasn’t cold. But Kellas’ arm wound its way back round her shoulders and pulled her close once again. Lennox hardly dared breathe. The worst night of her life was turning into the best. She stared at the golden thread, mesmerised, and thought only of his arm, his warmth, his body round hers. Neither spoke as the sun slipped silently into view bringing with it a haze of blue sky.
She turned to him, and found he was waiting for her, staring at her now. His brilliant eyes trembling like flames. With one deft movement, he pulled her in, so his chest was against her
s, her upturned face met his, and his lips fell like summer rain on hers. The next few moments were a delirium. She sought nothing but his soft lips, and his hard body pressed against the length of hers, and his hands, curling round her waist, then running over her back.
She stopped, and pulled back sharp, as if bitten. She remembered, vividly, what Don had said about her back, and felt ashamed.
‘Is it time to move on?’ she asked.
‘No.’
And he reached for her again, kissed her again, long and deep, while her body pressed against his. This time Kellas kept his hands away from her back, one was low, round her waist, and the other clenched her shoulder. And this time, it was Kellas who released her.
‘Now it is time to move on,’ he said.
He leapt down from the crag, held out his hand, and this time kept her hand tight within his when they set off down the far side. With the new light, easing its way across the sky, it was not long before Lennox finally recognised where they were.
‘Balreaig,’ she said.
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘You were supposed to be coming here. They are expecting you. You should be safe.’
‘But I don’t want to come here. I know no-one here and I’m sure I’ll hate it.’
‘We don’t have a choice.’
His words silenced her. It was the ‘we’, as if this was a shared problem, as if they, he and her, were a partnership.
Balraieg was quiet. Nobody was out. A few homes on the far fringe had smoke pouring from chimneys. As they wound down the valley, a small red car started, and ploughed through the silent main street. Kellas led them down to the heart of Balreaig, then out again, to the far side, to the well-groomed grass that surrounded the Pineham walls. He left the road, and led Lennox up to the gates.
‘There’s an intercom,’ he pointed. ‘Press that and ask for Mrs Trance. They’ll know who you are. Torkil arranged it.’
‘But I don’t want to come here.’
Not long ago, he had been kissing her, now he was betraying her all over again.
‘Why kiss me, if you just meant to abandon me?’
‘I shouldn’t have touched you.’
But the look he gave her told the opposite story. He looked like he wanted to take hold of her again.
He turned sharply, fiercely, back towards the gate.
‘Where else can you go? You can’t go back to Calgacos. If you don’t go here, then where?’
‘I could stay at Calgacos. Torkil was going to let me stay. Until you convinced him to send me away.’
‘How did you know?’
‘I heard.’
‘Impossible.’
‘I was there in the gallery. I’d come back from looking for Mannik. I heard what you said. It’s because of you they sent me away. Because of you, I ended up in that… in that house with…’
Her voice tailed off. She remembered Don’s knee in her back, his hands in her hair, her jaw against the ground.
Kellas reacted swiftly. He took hold of her, encased her, pulled her so close she was lifted off her feet, and into him.
She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. Instead he pulled her tighter, ran one hand down her lower back, the other wrapped round her shoulders, through her hair.
‘I was blind, and I was stupid,’ he said. ‘I thought that if you left… It would make it easier for me. But instead I made it easy for Duncan, and Don. They planned to take you, and I handed you over to them. Calgacos is not safe for you, not when Duncan walks its corridors and Don patrols its borders, waiting for you. They will try again.’
‘And this place is safe?’ she demanded, pushing herself away from him, flinging her arms wide.
‘Yes! Look at it! Look at those walls. Those girls in there never come out, and nobody else ever goes in. If you’re not safe in there, then nowhere is safe.’
‘But I would be safer at Calgacos, with you!’
‘No. Not necessarily.’
‘Why not? Look what you’ve done tonight! I thought we would never get away. But you stopped him.’
Kellas relaxed his grip.
‘You don’t understand. At Calgacos, it’s different. I can’t be with you there. I have to stay away. I have to pretend I don’t care. And if you return, you won’t stay at Calgacos all the time. There’ll be fitness, endurance, trips to Balreaig, and eventually, when I’m not around, and when you’re beyond its wall, he’ll strike.’
He stepped back from her. She was losing him. His mind was made up.
‘It’s Kearns isn’t it? He’s the reason why you have to pretend, why you have to stay away from me.’
It was the first time she had alluded to Kearns and Kellas’ strange relationship. But she had noticed, again and again, the tension between them, and she knew at once, from Kellas’ reaction, she should kept quiet.
His jaw tightened. Resentment clouded his startling eyes.
‘We have no choice, and no time left. I need to go. The sun will be up soon.’
He turned away. After all he had said, he was going to abandon her again.
‘Wait. Listen. Don and Duncan didn’t even want me. They’d made a mistake. Don told me. He said I wasn’t the one he wanted. Duncan was going to go back for someone else.’
‘Don’t believe him,’ Kellas said as he walked away.
‘But someone else is...’
‘Just press the intercom. I can’t stay.’
‘…at risk.’
Then he was gone, running down the road towards the path to Calgacos, not looking back. Instead there was a whisper in her head.
Take care.
She waited till he was out of sight. Then waited some more, just to be sure. When she was absolutely sure he was gone, she followed in his footsteps.