The Warrior's Princess

  ‘OK. Sit down.’ He turned away and reached for the kettle, just as his mother would have done. Behind them the two dogs were sitting in the doorway.

  The few moments he took to fill the kettle were enough for her to get a grip on herself. ‘The car wouldn’t start. I had to get away. You were right about Dan. He’s not quite the friend I thought.’

  ‘And you’re running away from him?’ He looked incredulous.

  She nodded miserably. ‘Stupidly I rang him and accused him. He said he was coming straight back. I packed the car. I planned to be gone long before he arrived then it wouldn’t start and I couldn’t contact anyone and I was –’ She paused, biting her lip, furious with herself for being so feeble.

  ‘You were scared?’ Rhodri raised an eyebrow. He slid the kettle onto the Raeburn, then he took the seat opposite her, clearing a gap in the piles of letters and notebooks on the table so he could lean forward on his elbows and study her face. ‘Well, he’s not going to find you if you are here, is he. So, why don’t you tell me the whole story. Why on earth are you frightened of him? You were both very close last time I saw you. This must be about more than a stupid practical joke.’

  ‘It is.’ She paused, fighting off the urge to confide the whole story. ‘We … we didn’t get on at the college where we teach,’ she compromised. God, she wasn’t going to forgive herself in a hurry for appearing such a weak fool in front of this man. What must he think of her! ‘That was why I resigned. I thought we were friends. But I made a mistake. I told him I knew about something he had done and he got angry. Vindictive.’ She forced a watery smile. ‘I’m sorry to involve you, it’s just that he was so furious when I said I knew it was him and he said he was coming straight over and, you’re right, I was scared. I just didn’t want to see him again.’

  ‘I’m not surprised.’ Rhodri levered himself to his feet and went to make the tea. ‘I’ll drive you back when we’ve had this. Sort out your car and wait for lover boy. I am bigger than him, don’t forget!’ He glanced over his shoulder with a wink.

  In spite of herself, Jess laughed, suddenly very aware of his broad shoulders and muscular frame in the open-necked shirt and jeans. She looked away hurriedly. ‘You are indeed.’

  ‘Then I can respectfully suggest he goes away and leaves you alone.’ He pushed a mug of tea towards her. ‘Poor Jess. And you came up here to have some peace. Ghosts and arrogant opera singers and now vengeful teachers. What a combination!’

  ‘I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here.’

  ‘You would have thought of something.’ He grinned. ‘I’m just off to sing in a charity gala in Milan so you were lucky I was still here at all.’

  She took a sip from the mug, astonished at how disappointed she felt that he was leaving. ‘I am sorry to involve you in all this.’

  ‘No sweat.’ He noticed the dogs suddenly and clicked his fingers at them. They slunk away into the yard. ‘Pity I can’t lend you those two to look after you. That would scare the bugger off. But they wouldn’t stay. Their job is here.’

  ‘And they do it very well.’

  ‘Working dogs, see. That’s why they can’t come in. Not that there are any sheep around at the moment. That’s why Mum and Dad can get away for a few days. Dave, our shepherd, is keeping an eye on them on the hill. He’ll be in charge once I’ve gone.’

  Jess smiled. ‘The dogs come in when your mum is here. I’ve seen her let them in.’

  Rhodri snorted. ‘I bet Dad doesn’t know that.’ He stood up. ‘OK. Are you ready?’

  As the big 4 x 4 bucked and strained up the steep pot-holed lane to the house, Jess found she was clenching her fists apprehensively, but there was no sign of Dan’s car when they arrived. Rhodri pulled in and they climbed out. ‘Right, let’s have a look. Keys?’ He put out his hand.

  Looking nervously over her shoulder Jess handed him the car keys and waited while he unlocked it and levered himself into the driver’s seat. She couldn’t believe she had done this. She had run away to find a man to save her, she had picked the most arrogant man she could find, arrogant even by his own admission, and now she was letting him sort everything out. Her credentials as an independent woman were completely shot.

  The car started first go.

  She stared at it uncomprehending. ‘But it was dead. The battery was flat. I’m sure it was.’

  Rhodri touched his foot to the accelerator. ‘Sounds like she’s fine. Nice little car.’ He glanced up at her, his eyes twinkling. ‘Perhaps you flooded the engine.’

  ‘It was dead. Completely dead. Not even a light when I turned the key!’ Jess said furiously. ‘No, this is not a stupid woman driver. I know how to start a car!’ Her panic had turned to fury.

  Rhodri climbed out, leaving the engine running. ‘Let her run for a bit in case the battery was a bit flat. I never said you were a stupid woman driver, did I?’

  ‘No, but you thought it!’

  ‘No. I didn’t.’ He strode towards the house. ‘Now, let’s have a look inside and make sure everything is OK, then we’ll sit and wait for your friendly colleague to show up.’

  Two hours passed and there was still no sign of him. Rhodri made them an omelette and they drank a glass of wine, but Jess could barely manage a mouthful. She was becoming more and more uncomfortable and embarrassed.

  ‘I doubt if he’s coming after all,’ Rhodri said eventually. ‘Look, I’m sorry, but I do have to go,’ he grinned affably, ‘I’ve things to do before I leave.’

  ‘Of course. I’m so sorry.’ Jess leaped to her feet. ‘And I am so grateful for you coming to sort me out. I’m an idiot!’

  He gave a tolerant grin. ‘Not totally. You had got yourself in a bit of a state. Never mind. I suggest you lock yourself in and get a good night’s sleep, then tomorrow you can make some calm decisions about what to do. Don’t let him chase you out of this house, Jess. It’s too nice a place. Just remember to lock that front door. Don’t leave it open for all and sundry to walk in.’ He leaned across before she could dodge back and kissed her on the cheek. ‘My parents will be back in a couple of days. You’ll have a bit more support then. OK? And for goodness’ sake remember to charge up your mobile and report that phone out of order!’ He strode towards the front door.

  Jess watched as he backed his car out of the yard. She stood for several minutes after he had disappeared down the lane, listening to the chorus of birds from the wood, then she stepped back inside and firmly closed the door. She wasn’t going to stay and lock herself in. She was leaving now.

  7

  Steph put the phone down and turned back into the kitchen where Kim was frying onions and tomatoes. She was frowning. ‘I’ve been trying all evening but there is still no reply from either phone.’

  ‘Perhaps she’s gone out.’ Kim threw some sliced zucchini into the heavy pan and added more oil. With her dark hair and eyes and her plump figure – a testament to her fondness for her own cooking – Kim looked every inch the Italian mamma in the making for all she had been born in Romford and attended the same college as Jess and Steph. ‘And she’s forgotten to take her mobile.’

  ‘That’s probably it. I’ve reported the line at Ty Bran. They checked. It is broken.’

  ‘Well, presumably someone will go and mend it.’ Kim reached for her wine glass and took a sip before turning her attention back to the sauce. ‘So, you can stop worrying, Steph. Jess is a big girl. She doesn’t need you checking up on her all the time. In fact you never have before, so why now?’

  Steph shook her head wearily. ‘I don’t know. I’ve got a strange feeling, that’s all.’

  ‘What sort of strange feeling?’ Wooden spoon in hand, Kim paused in her stirring to gaze at her friend’s face. ‘You two aren’t twins, are you?’

  ‘You know we’re not!’

  ‘Then stop worrying. Go and see to our guests. Make sure everyone has got a drink. If you really want to know what is happening with Jess ask Carmella. She reads the cards. Y
ou’ll find a deck in Stefano’s old bureau.’

  Steph wandered through the apartment towards the front door. From the grand reception room she could hear the sound of voices. Kim’s penchant for cooking frequently led to these impromptu parties where her guests marvelled at the talent of their English hostess who could cook Italian food better than any of them.

  Steph resisted the urge to mention the cards, but as they sat in the salotto later savouring their dolci and coffee Kim brought the subject up again.

  ‘Steph needs some info about her sister, Carmella. Would you read the cards for her? Tell us what is happening over there in Wales?’ She levered herself out of the deep sofa and went to the bureau, rummaging around in the drawers.

  There was a general murmur of interest from the other guests at the suggestion as she drew out the small box she had been looking for.

  Carmella, a tall, elegant woman in her forties, held out her hand languidly and took the box. ‘I haven’t seen these since Stefano died. Do you remember how often we would read them?’ She smiled at Kim, raising one of her startlingly black, fly away eyebrows.

  Kim nodded, suddenly wistful. ‘He loved to watch you do it, but he would never let you do a reading for him. Perhaps if you had –’

  ‘No!’ Carmella started shuffling the deck. ‘No, don’t think of that. What was to be, was to be.’ She flicked her dark hair out of her eyes and leaned forward to take a puff from the cigarette lying in the onyx ashtray near her coffee cup. ‘Now, let me see what the cards have to say. This is about your sister, Steph?’

  Steph nodded.

  ‘Tell me her name.’

  ‘Jess.’

  ‘And do you have anything of hers with you? Perhaps a letter? A piece of jewellery to make the connection.’

  Steph thought for a moment. ‘I have a scarf of hers. I liked it so much she gave it to me.’

  ‘That is good. Get it.’

  Steph watched amused as Carmella cut the pack and then laid out the cards on the coffee table. It was years since she had seen anyone read the tarot. Probably not since she had been a student and done it herself. Carmella did it with superb style, she had to give her that. She lay back in her chair and sipped her coffee, watching as Carmella turned up the first card, Jess’s scarf lying on her knee, a splash of emerald against the black of the woman’s skirt.

  ‘Ah, il fante di denari. The page of coins; pentacles you call them, si? This is Jess. A page can represent a woman, you know that?’ She glanced round. Turning back to the table she ran her finger thoughtfully over the card. The eyes of every person in the room were fixed on her hands as she turned up the next and sat staring down at the layout in front of her. She was frowning. ‘Non capisco,’ she murmured to herself. ‘This is very strange. There are two different people here. We have two women. You see? Il fante di bastoni, the page of wands. But this one represents una ragazza. A much younger woman. Very important in the reading. They are linked in some way.’ She turned a third card. ‘And here with them we have il re di coppe al negativo.’ She paused, shaking her head. ‘Here is violence, scandal, treachery. A bad man in the lives of these two women.’ She glanced up, concerned. ‘And here. Il matto, the fool. He heralds a journey for all these people. I think not literally – maybe a step into the unknown. No, also a journey in reality.’ She turned up three more cards in quick succession. ‘There is so much here.’ She spread her hands over the cards. ‘They are on a quest. Your sister, Steph, has set out on a journey she cannot escape. She travels with another woman, maybe a child, and behind them follows this man. The cards never tell a lie, but this and this –’ Her hand strayed over the cards, stroking them, reading them almost like Braille. ‘This is too strange. There is love here; new love. Strong love, but also danger. And fear. And threats.’

  ‘Oh God!’ Steph whispered under her breath. She and Kim exchanged glances.

  ‘Perhaps,’ Kim said suddenly, clearing her throat, ‘this is not a good idea. Why don’t we have another drink and forget it.’

  ‘No.’ Carmella raised a commanding hand. ‘Aspetta! No, this is important. It is telling me something very important about your sister. She needs to be warned that she is in danger.’

  ‘Oh God!’ Steph repeated. She stood up as a murmur of concern ran round the room. Everyone was looking at her. No one seemed to doubt Carmella. No one was looking superior and cynical and scoffing as they would at a dinner party in London. They were all hanging on every word.

  ‘Carmella, stop it!’ Kim said. ‘That’s enough. You are frightening her!’

  ‘So, you don’t want to know? You don’t want to save her?’

  ‘Yes, of course I want to know.’ Steph sat down again. She ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Go on.’

  Carmella looked up at her for a moment, then she glanced back at the cards. ‘There is another man here.’ Her finger paused over the king of swords. She frowned. ‘Your sister’s father? He is wounded.’

  ‘Our father is dead,’ Steph put in sharply.

  Carmella shook her head. ‘I don’t understand. This is definitely someone’s father. The other girl, perhaps. Do you know who she is?’ She looked up. ‘And there are soldiers here.’ She leaned closer to the cards for a minute. ‘And here, I see danger again.’ Her voice sharpened. ‘Here it is clear. There are two lives here and this,’ she tapped a card, ‘is your sister and someone wants to kill her!’ She sat back and stared at Steph, her eyes wide. ‘Dio mio, we are told never to forecast a death. Never! This is awful!’

  ‘And it’s tosh, Carmella!’ Kim looked really angry. ‘This was supposed to comfort her, not make things worse.’ She stood up. ‘Enough! Let’s have some Limoncello, then you should all go home!’

  ‘I’m going to ring the police!’ Steph hadn’t moved. She was sitting staring at the cards.

  ‘Don’t be an idiot! You can’t ring the police because of a tarot reading!’ Kim bent forward and swept all the cards into a heap. ‘That’s it. Finished. I am going to put them away.’

  ‘I’ll ring the Prices. Meg and Ken won’t mind going over to Ty Bran and seeing if she is all right.’ Steph stood up. ‘Don’t be angry with Carmella. I knew there was something wrong.’ She headed for the telephone, in the hallway, leaving the others all staring at each other.

  The phone at Cwm-nant rang and rang. There was no reply. Steph slammed down the phone. Picking it up again she tried Ty Bran’s number. The line was still dead. Then she tried Jess’s mobile. It was still switched off.

  ‘Leave it, Steph.’ Kim appeared behind her. She had brought a bottle from the fridge in the kitchen and a tray of liqueur glasses. Pouring one out she put it down on the hall stand beside the telephone. ‘Get that down you. I’m so sorry. It was a stupid, stupid idea doing the tarot. I should have remembered how melodramatic Carmella can be.’

  Steph picked up the glass and sipped it. The strong cold shot of lemon revived her a bit. ‘I don’t know who to ring, Kim. Jess is all alone up there. There is no one there I know well enough to ask them to drive up into the hills in the middle of the night to see if my sister is OK.’

  ‘I bet you she’s fine.’ Kim guided her back towards the kitchen and onto a stool by the table. ‘I tell you what. Tomorrow, if you can’t contact her by then, we’ll ring the police and you can explain how worried you are, OK? Honestly. I don’t think you can ring them tonight. Not on the strength of a card reading. They would think you were nuts. And they wouldn’t go. You know that as well as I do. There is no point in even trying.’

  ‘And what if someone is trying to kill her?’ Steph took another swig from the Limoncello.

  ‘Why on earth should someone try and kill Jess?’ Kim grabbed Steph by the shoulders. ‘Think about it, you idiot! What could Jess have possibly done that would warrant that!’

  ‘Will was trying to find her. He rang –’

  ‘Oh yes! And Will is trying to kill her? I thought you said he was still desperately in love with her.’

  Steph
shook her head. ‘I’m being stupid, aren’t I. I know I am. Sorry.’

  ‘At last! Sense. There was love in those cards as well, remember? Right, I’m going to send the others home. Go to bed, Steph. Sleep well. It will all be all right in the morning, you’ll see. The phone will be mended and you will find that Jess has been there all the time.’

  For the second time Jess had locked the house and eased herself into the driver’s seat. Terrified that she would meet Dan’s car in the narrow lane she groped for the key and turned it in the ignition. The engine caught. With a little prayer of gratitude she eased up the clutch but as she began to turn the wheel to manoeuvre out of the yard the car engine coughed and died. ‘No! Please God, no!’ Leaning forward, her hands shaking, she turned the key again.

  It was ten minutes before she gave up.

  Nothing would persuade her to ring Rhodri again. She had her pride!

  All she could do was take his advice after all, lock herself in and wait out the night. Perhaps Rhodri was right and Dan wasn’t coming.

  The doors were locked and bolted for good measure, the windows closed, the curtains drawn, when Jess finally went to bed. Lying back on the pillows she stared at the window, not even bothering to open the book which rested on her knees. There was nothing to be afraid of. What could Dan do, even if he did come? She glanced at the clock. It was nearly midnight. Outside in the wood she could hear two tawny owls exchanging calls, the low hoots of the female echoing round the hillside, the sharp response of the male so loud he might have been sitting in the courtyard. She shivered and slid further down in the bed.

  Publius Ostorius Scapula stood in his tent looking down at the woman who had been brought before him. She was dark-haired, slim, beautiful and very pale, the bruises on her face and throat still visible. One of his spies had given him some background on this woman. The eldest daughter of the last king of the Silures, the local and oh-so-troublesome tribe of these accursed southern Cambrian hills, she was Caratacus’s second wife. The first had died in childbirth so he understood. This second he had chosen with great acumen from the tribe in whose lands he had settled to spearhead his opposition to Rome. And she had done him proud, giving him three children, two girls and a boy and, so he had heard, her unswerving loyalty and love. She had great dignity and courage, this Celtic queen, in spite of her position as his captive.