17

This time Elen was given an official escort under the command of a senior centurion. Neither Julia nor Valeria accompanied her. She had seen neither woman again after Julia's revelations, and Julia had left the fort with her husband only a few days later. Valeria was nowhere to be seen and Macsen was out on manoeuvres each day. He reappeared briefly to bid Elen farewell in front of the whole garrison, raising her hand to his lips and bending briefly to kiss his little daughter's forehead, and then Elen was on her way, astride the black colt, the child and her nurse riding with Delyth in a wagon pulled by oxen, little Gemma sitting with them in state, Rhys on a sturdy mountain cob at her side, the other members of her own personal household all travelling with her. In her heart she wondered if she would ever return.

The countryside was in full autumn colour, rowan trees and hawthorns laden with berries, putting on a beautiful display for her as they rode south, following the road around the great mountain range, the land of eagles, travelling slowly, taking the road east towards Canovium and then following the river Conwy to Tomen-y-Mur and on southward through the mountains towards her home.

The high king had had word of their imminent arrival and was waiting for her outside the splendid new portico. ‘So, you bring my granddaughter to meet me at last.' He held out his arms and took the child from her. ‘See, she is smiling at her old grandfather.' He gave a delighted chuckle. ‘She is a little beauty. As is her mother.' He glanced up at his daughter. She had matured since he had seen her last and was if anything more beautiful than before. But there was a hardness there, a bitterness in the line of her mouth, a sad weariness in her eyes. He handed the baby to the nurse who was hovering anxiously at her side. ‘Your brother is here, my darling, ready to greet you when you're rested, and your new apartments await you.'

A further wing had been added to the south-east corner of the palace since she had left, a bedchamber which had been set aside for her with a beautiful mosaic floor depicting a cornucopia overflowing with fruit and flowers and sheaves of corn, two further rooms for her daughter and the child's nurses, and a reception room where Elen could take her ease.

‘See, Gemma recognises the palace.' Delyth stooped to let the little dog off the leash as they walked into Elen's new chamber. They watched as the dog ran around in delight, her tail wagging.

‘She's glad to be out of the wagon at last. As am I.' Elen had finally consented to travel with the other women, stiff after the long days in the saddle, allowing Rhys to lead her mount at the rear of the long train of armed men. She stretched her arms above her head. ‘Perhaps I can take Emrys for a ride in the fields before the celebrations I am sure my father will have arranged. Poor horse. He is fed up with walking sedately at the pace of draught oxen. He needs a gallop. Oh, Delyth, I am so glad to be home.'

As it transpired, the ride had to wait for the next day after the expected feast, which lingered long after dark.

‘So, you still have your favourite horse, I see.' Leaving the baby with Delyth, Elen was joined by her stepbrother, Conan. He eyed the stallion with its red leather bridle and saddle as they cantered together, followed at a discreet distance by a small detachment of their father's troops. ‘And you still insist on riding like a man, I see.'

She laughed. ‘I haven't changed, Conan, not one bit.'

‘I expected your husband to have claimed him as his own by now.'

‘No chance. Emrys is not a cavalry horse. He is wild like me!'

‘So says my sister, who is now a Roman matron.'

‘A matron! Me?' She leaned across and punched him on thearm.

‘You are a mother, Elen!'

‘And a good one.' Was she? She wasn't sure.

‘And your husband is much acclaimed throughout the -province.'

‘As he was before I married him.' They had slowed the -horses to a walk, the animals' breath steaming in the cold air. The track opened out onto the hillside and they drew up to look down towards the gleam of the distant waters of the estuary. ‘I've missed this,' Elen said wistfully. Behind them the great hill fort rose on the next summit, its ramparts and -palisade solid in the sunlight with narrow trails of woodsmoke rising from the conical thatched roofs of the township. ‘The woods here are gentle and lush and the hills hold back the winds. The Hibernian sea is wild and there's nothing to -separate us from the storms. Even my rose garden smells of salt and icy distances.'

‘But you are not going to live at Segontium forever,' Conan said quietly.

‘No.' She sighed. ‘Macsen travels the whole land with his army. I can go with him if I choose, when it is safe to do so, but...' her voice trailed away.

After a quick glance towards her, her brother chose to ignore the wistful silence. ‘Segontium is safe. I heard about Elen's hosts. They call you Elen Luyddog, Elen of the hosts, did you know? I gather you don't need the cohorts of Rome to protect you. You have armies of your own, ready at your command.'

She smiled. ‘I have indeed.'

‘And he doesn't mind?'

‘Not as long as they obey me and pay lip service to the empire.'

‘And you are happy, Sister?' This time he looked across at her, studying her profile with care.

Her hesitation would have been barely noticeable had he not been watching. ‘I am content.'

‘There were rumours at the meeting of the province leaders. Gossip.' He said cautiously. He had heard the stories when he was there with their father and seen Macsen with another woman.

She grimaced. ‘I have been told my expectations were unreasonable. I am there as breeding stock.' She slapped the neck of her horse and he tossed his head impatiently.

‘He told you that?' Conan's voice hardened.

‘No, not him, and never in so many words. But I think my notions of the love one hears about in the ancient tales were unreasonable. I remember how my parents were together. I think they loved one another. I expected too much. But...' She took a deep breath and looked him sternly in the eye. ‘He is kind and we get on well when we are together. He has left me my horse and my dog and my child– albeit she is a girl so he has little interest in her. And as you say, I have my followers, who are loyal and remind me of home. I had no expectations when my father told me I had to marry him, and he keeps the lady away from me now. When I return to Segontium, I will not expect to see her again.'

Conan nodded, seemingly satisfied. No one could expect more. It was the way of things.

It was her turn to ask questions. ‘And are you happy, Brother?' Conan had married a princess from a neighbouring tribe, based in a hilltop fortress a day's ride from Viriconium.

He too had married for political expedience, as was to be expected, but now he nodded. He and his wife rubbed along without too much aggravation. She was expecting their first child. He was content and, as far as he knew, so was she.

On their return they handed over the horses to be turned out in the paddock in front of the palace and walked side by side through the portico.

Branwen was waiting for her in her sitting room. Elen stopped dead, staring at her in disbelief before running towards her, her arms outstretched. ‘I have missed you so much.'

Branwen smiled. ‘And I you, Elen, my child. But your father was right. It was time. You have your own destiny to fulfil and it is already underway.'

‘You have seen my baby?'

Branwen nodded. ‘A beautiful child. You can be proud of her. And there will be more.'

‘Boys?' It was an automatic question. Did she really care so much that Macsen should have the sons he craved?

‘Boys too.' Branwen turned away as a shadow crossed her face.

‘What is it? What do you see?' Elen shivered. Had the thought that Branwen had the ability to see the future in the scrying bowl always terrified her? Or was it just the thought that the woman had knowledge of her sons as yet unborn?

‘I see nothing you need fear, Elen. Your children will thrive. Your line, with your Roman husband, will be long.' Branwen smiled. She looked round. ‘Order us some refreshment, then you can tell me about your life in the land of the Ordovices. I trained there once, at the college at Dinas Affaraon, with one of the greatest teachers in the land.' She fell silent and Elen saw a wistful sadness in her eyes. She waited for Branwen to continue but the woman said no more.

‘You have heard how the local tribesmen came to our rescue; how they have brought their armies to follow Macsen,' Elen went on at last.

‘I have heard.' Branwen settled herself into a chair, briskly pulling her heavy mantle around her shoulders. ‘They will always follow you, cariad, not your husband, be assured of that.'

The door opened and a slave appeared carrying a tray with a jug of hot spiced wine and several dishes of snacks. Gemma ran in at the woman's feet and rushed across to Elen, her tail wagging.

Branwen drew back sharply. ‘Where did that dog come from?'

Elen frowned. ‘She's mine. She won't hurt you. She's -adorable.' She bent to pick up Gemma, hugging her closely. ‘Look, someone has been brushing her coat while I was out riding.'

Branwen flinched again. ‘That dog should go home. She does not belong here. You must send her back.'

‘Back?' Elen echoed the word in confusion. ‘She was a stray but no one ever claimed her. She loves me.'

‘She is from another place, Elen.' Branwen stood up and moved towards her, her face stern. Gemma cowered back in Elen's arms, trembling. ‘You must let her go. She doesn't belong with us.' She stretched out her hand as though to touch the little dog then withdrew it sharply. ‘She's cold. Can't you feel it? Where did you find her?'

‘It was Rhys, he found her in the paddock where the -horsesare.'

‘Then take her back there. Now.' The woman's voice was hard and insistent. ‘To keep her will cause misfortune for you and the dog. Come. We will go together.' Her tone softened. ‘Elen, my Elen, you want the little thing to be happy? She has a home in another world, somewhere where she is terribly missed and will be cherished.'

‘No!' Elen hugged Gemma more closely and kissed her on the top of her head. ‘No. I love her. She's mine, I told you. I've looked after her.'

Branwen hesitated, then she shook her head. ‘I'm sorry, cariad. You must be strong. If you keep her, she will die. She does not belong in our world. Let me come with you. We will take her outside and you can put her down on the grass. If she stays with you, then well and good, but if she runs away, you must let her go. It is her destiny to go to her true home as much as it is your destiny to stay in this world.'

‘She will stay with me. I know she will.'

Branwen pushed away the tray of refreshments and beckoned. ‘Let us go and see. Now.'

‘Why now? Let's have a drink first.'

‘Now, Elen. The tides of time are with us. I can sense it strongly. That is why I'm here.'

Elen stood up. ‘She will stay with me,' she repeated -desperately.

‘Then we will bring her back in here and you can give her titbits.' Branwen turned towards the door.

Elen followed her out through the portico towards the paddock where the horses were grazing quietly in the sunshine. The place was very peaceful. Branwen unlatched the gate and strode out onto the grass. Elen followed, clutching Gemma in her arms.

‘Over here.'

She followed Branwen towards the stream, aware of the horses. They had stopped grazing and both had raised their heads, watching intently. Branwen glanced up at the sky. ‘It is time. Put her down here.'

Elen glanced round. ‘She has run about here before. She knows this field.'

‘Then she will come to no harm.'

Crouching down, Elen kissed the dog again then put her down on the grass. Gemma gave herself a shake then turned away and trotted purposefully towards the stream.

Ahead of her the air began to shimmer in the autumn heat.