must go.” She stood up, replaced her chair under the table and moved to the door.
Taid stood up, placed the opening object on the top shelf and closed the left cupboard door. He picked up the two empty tins and placed them on the bottom shelf that was still visible, before closing the other door.
Rhiannon stood in the open doorway. “Viens, pere. Et vous, ma petite.” She had reverted to French.
Soon we were out on the road, heading off, arm in arm.
Chapter 14
For what must have been nearly two hours, we walked in a line across the road, Rhiannon in the middle, Taid and I either side, holding her hands. She slowed her pace this time, so that Taid was able to keep up, without becoming too breathless. She also allowed us to pause briefly, every now and again, so that he could regain his breath.
As we walked, darkness began to fall. Rhiannon appeared to know exactly where she was going. Every time we reached a turning, or a crossroad, no matter how complicated it was, she moved forward without hesitation. For much of the time little was said. At one point, while we were pausing, I thought I heard some strange noises in the distance behind us. It reminded me that Rhiannon had mentioned wolves before.
“Are there really wolves, Taid?” I asked.
“Yes,” Rhiannon replied. “Very dangerous. Now it is full moon.”
Taid laughed. “That’s an old story, little one. Wolves and the full moon.” He howled.
Rhiannon shivered.
“It’s said that The Apostles have released wolves into the countryside. To keep people from leaving the casters,” I said.
“But you left,” Rhiannon said.
“And you know why that is,” Taid said. He shook his head as he looked at her. I had the impression that I was not supposed to have seen this, but I did. Rhiannon said nothing.
We carried on. Soon the darkness had reached the level that is only experienced in the summer months. As we were out in it, there was still some visibility. If we had been inside, in a lighted room, it would have seemed completely black. I was growing tired. The food and the walking were combining to bring on a strong sense of fatigue. When we paused for what turned out to be the last time, I really had to struggle to get going again.
Rhiannon came to a sudden halt. “Arretes,” she said. She released our hands. I was glad of this as mine was beginning to chafe. She had practically been dragging me for the last ten minutes or so. She walked forward on her own. “Bonsoir, m’sieu.” She appeared to be talking to the hedge. In the gloom a figure of a man appeared. He came towards us.
“You’ve arrived,” he said as he approached us. “You must be Richard Beynon-James. You don’t know what a pleasure it is to meet you at long last. And to welcome you to my humble abode.” He shook hands with Taid vigorously. “And this must be your grand-daughter. How are you, cariad bach? You look completely done in.” He put out his hand to me, but I didn’t respond. He stood between Taid and me and, putting his arms over our shoulders, moved us forward along the road.
Taid suddenly appeared to wake up. “My God! You must be Matthew Matthewson. The world thinks you’re dead.”
The man laughed. A deep, throaty laugh that echoed along the road. “Far from it, Richard. Alive and kicking, as you see.”
Rhiannon had disappeared. Where she had stood moments earlier in the middle of the road, now there was nothing. We walked, or stumbled, towards the spot where she had been. As we reached it, the man calling himself Matthew turned us to the right. There, barely visible in the gloom, was a set of huge wrought iron gates, set just back off the road, unnoticeable until you were right on top of them.
Something stirred in my head at the sight of them. The gates were wide open. He propelled us through them. I glanced at a board hanging on one of them as we passed. ‘Plas Maen Heledd’ it read. The penny dropped. I ducked out from under
Taid stood up, placed the opening object on the top shelf and closed the left cupboard door. He picked up the two empty tins and placed them on the bottom shelf that was still visible, before closing the other door.
Rhiannon stood in the open doorway. “Viens, pere. Et vous, ma petite.” She had reverted to French.
Soon we were out on the road, heading off, arm in arm.
Chapter 14
For what must have been nearly two hours, we walked in a line across the road, Rhiannon in the middle, Taid and I either side, holding her hands. She slowed her pace this time, so that Taid was able to keep up, without becoming too breathless. She also allowed us to pause briefly, every now and again, so that he could regain his breath.
As we walked, darkness began to fall. Rhiannon appeared to know exactly where she was going. Every time we reached a turning, or a crossroad, no matter how complicated it was, she moved forward without hesitation. For much of the time little was said. At one point, while we were pausing, I thought I heard some strange noises in the distance behind us. It reminded me that Rhiannon had mentioned wolves before.
“Are there really wolves, Taid?” I asked.
“Yes,” Rhiannon replied. “Very dangerous. Now it is full moon.”
Taid laughed. “That’s an old story, little one. Wolves and the full moon.” He howled.
Rhiannon shivered.
“It’s said that The Apostles have released wolves into the countryside. To keep people from leaving the casters,” I said.
“But you left,” Rhiannon said.
“And you know why that is,” Taid said. He shook his head as he looked at her. I had the impression that I was not supposed to have seen this, but I did. Rhiannon said nothing.
We carried on. Soon the darkness had reached the level that is only experienced in the summer months. As we were out in it, there was still some visibility. If we had been inside, in a lighted room, it would have seemed completely black. I was growing tired. The food and the walking were combining to bring on a strong sense of fatigue. When we paused for what turned out to be the last time, I really had to struggle to get going again.
Rhiannon came to a sudden halt. “Arretes,” she said. She released our hands. I was glad of this as mine was beginning to chafe. She had practically been dragging me for the last ten minutes or so. She walked forward on her own. “Bonsoir, m’sieu.” She appeared to be talking to the hedge. In the gloom a figure of a man appeared. He came towards us.
“You’ve arrived,” he said as he approached us. “You must be Richard Beynon-James. You don’t know what a pleasure it is to meet you at long last. And to welcome you to my humble abode.” He shook hands with Taid vigorously. “And this must be your grand-daughter. How are you, cariad bach? You look completely done in.” He put out his hand to me, but I didn’t respond. He stood between Taid and me and, putting his arms over our shoulders, moved us forward along the road.
Taid suddenly appeared to wake up. “My God! You must be Matthew Matthewson. The world thinks you’re dead.”
The man laughed. A deep, throaty laugh that echoed along the road. “Far from it, Richard. Alive and kicking, as you see.”
Rhiannon had disappeared. Where she had stood moments earlier in the middle of the road, now there was nothing. We walked, or stumbled, towards the spot where she had been. As we reached it, the man calling himself Matthew turned us to the right. There, barely visible in the gloom, was a set of huge wrought iron gates, set just back off the road, unnoticeable until you were right on top of them.
Something stirred in my head at the sight of them. The gates were wide open. He propelled us through them. I glanced at a board hanging on one of them as we passed. ‘Plas Maen Heledd’ it read. The penny dropped. I ducked out from under
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