Alys Clare - Mist Over the Water

Now the three of us, Rollo, Gewis and I, stood side by side. Rollo had a sword in his right hand and his long knife in his left. Gewis and I both had knives. We backed away from the four guards who were swiftly advancing on us, heading for the maze of passageways that would lead us back to the place where we could climb the wall.

The first two guards came at us. They, too, were armed, and there was a succession of jarring clashes as Rollo’s one sword met their two weapons. Rollo fought with the ferocity of a cornered bear. He was so fast that I had no idea how he did it. One guard fell; the other aimed his weapon at me, and without thinking I ducked the swinging sword and brought up my knife. I found flesh, for something gave under my blade and the guard gave a sort of grunt. He dropped to one knee, but I did not think he was badly wounded.

We were at the start of the first passage. Turning, Rollo sped off down it, Gewis and I flying along behind. From somewhere near I heard the sound of chanting. As a background to what was happening out here, it was so incongruous that I almost laughed.

The remaining two guards were after us. I could hear the thump of their boots, feel it like a percussion in my body. We ran faster, Rollo twisting and turning through the dim passages with such speed that it was all I could do to keep up. He must have doubled back for I was quite sure we passed one place where several cloisters intersected at least once.

Then we were out in the open, flying through the moonlit gardens and heading straight for the wall. Rollo leapt up the compost heap, turned, caught hold of me and threw me up on top of the wall. Gewis scrambled up beside me and, as Rollo followed, all three of us dropped down on the far side.

‘We have to get off the island,’ Rollo panted.

‘The boat is holed!’ wailed Gewis. ‘What shall we do?’

We stood there, and nobody said a word. Then in my head I heard my aunt’s voice: Keep your eyes wide open for the chance that will present itself . She wanted me to see if I could find the secret ways across the fens. I had forgotten all about it till this moment.

Had she known this would happen? The chance that will present itself . It sounded as if she had, for here we stood, desperate to get away from men who wanted to kill us, and with no boat, and the ferrymen long gone home for the night, what other choice was there?

But I was afraid! Just when the waters had begun to recede, it had rained again, and once more the sound of hungry lapping could be heard all around the island. And I was expected to find a safe way across the dark water and the deathly, sucking mud. .

My aunt had added something else: she had said, You will not fail . I trusted her. If she said I could do a task, she was invariably right.

I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath and said, ‘Come on. There’s a safe way.’

I strode off down the track that led to the water, and, to my surprise, without a word they followed me.

Two things worried me as I hurried along. The first, naturally, was just how I was to go about finding these safe ways. The monks knew, or one or two of them did, for they had betrayed the secret to the Conqueror during the rebellion of 1071. Where did the ways begin though? How was I to find my starting point? In the absence of any other idea, I decided to pace slowly along the water’s edge and, using my dowser’s sensitivity, wait to see what called out to me. It sounded straightforward and, indeed, usually I had no trouble in putting myself into the light trance that allowed me to pick up the clear and unmistakable signs. But now three lives depended on me, one of them my own, and I was to say the least a little anxious.

Breathe deeply , I heard my aunt say. Put aside everything else and concentrate. The ways are there and will reveal themselves to you. Be calm .

Her voice soothed and comforted me as it always did, and I sent her my swift thanks. She was on my mind, in my mind, for the other thing that worried me was that she and Hrype were on the island. I thought — hoped — they were perfectly safe, for Lord Edmund did not know of their existence and had no reason to hunt them down or harm them. And, really, I had no choice. The two guards might have lost our trail for the moment, but I was in no doubt that Lord Edmund had already summoned more men and even now they were fanning out to begin the search. There was just no time to go back, explain to Edild and somehow get Hrype to his feet and fit for a perilous journey across dangerous ground and sinster, treacherous water.

They would understand. I prayed that they would.

Rollo must also have been thinking about Lord Edmund’s pursuit. ‘How long will this take?’ he said, close beside me.

‘I don’t know.’ I paused, not sure how to explain. ‘I have to sense where the crossing begins,’ I said.

I felt his astonishment flare briefly, but he controlled it. As if he understood that I did not want to be distracted, he simply nodded and fell back to walk beside Gewis.

We had been pacing along the water’s edge for some time. Nothing had as yet touched against my mind or my outstretched hands, and I was starting to think that I hadn’t been doing it right and would have to start again. I stopped, breathed deeply in and out and made myself relax, from my toes to the crown of my head. I closed my eyes and asked the spirit guardians for help. I summoned my animal guide, and in my mind I thought I saw Fox materialize beside me. His mouth was open, tongue flapping, and it looked as if he were grinning. Then I stretched out my hands, and almost straight away I felt the familiar tingle.

My eyes shot open. For an instant I saw the path over the water lit up by a purplish-blue light, snaking to and fro across the fen. I stared at it, trying to fix it in my mind. I took very careful note of where it began, then I hurried off to the place where we must set out.

Unless you were a dowser, you really wouldn’t find it unless someone told you where it was for there was not a thing to mark it out. It was just a stretch of shore, with a meadow and some alders. The slope of the ground was quite gentle and a spit of land led out into the water. Just beyond, in the last place you would expect, the secret way began.

Without pausing I stepped out on to it. The water rose up to my ankles but the ground beneath my feet was firm. That was no surprise, for this part of the shore was normally above the water line. I knew that the going would get progressively more difficult, as indeed it did.

Quite soon we were up to our knees. The water was very cold, but fortunately there was no wind and so its surface was smooth. I paced on, growing familiar now with the sensations coursing up through the palms of my outstretched hands so that I made fewer mistakes. Mistakes were dangerous; the first time my foot had headed down into deep water, it had only been Rollo’s quick reaction and his iron-hard hand on my arm that had saved me.

Sometimes I had to stop because I simply did not know which way the path went next. Then I would have to fight my terror and swiftly turn my thoughts from the image of the three of us lost in the middle of the fen, unable to go forward or back, standing there until weakness and cold made us collapse into the dark water and drown.

No. It really was best not to think of that.

It seemed to take hours. My two companions could not actively help me for only I could find the way, but they did not complain once, and I was strengthened by their obvious faith in me. Whether or not I deserved it remained to be seen.

Shortly before dawn, when the first pale glow was just beginning to appear in the east, I came to a complete halt. I tried to calm myself, closing my eyes and asking the spirits to guide me. Fox was puzzled — I had a glimpse of him casting this way and that. In my mind I saw the dark water before me. No helpful lights shone to show me the secret path. I did not know what to do.