Alys Clare - Out of the Dawn Light

Then Sibert said matter-of-factly, ‘We’ll have to wait till low tide.’

I have already said that this was my first sight of the sea. I was an eel fisherman’s daughter and I knew how the water washed in and out of the creeks and the best time to hunt for eels. I knew about the sea — of course I did — but I did not know much about it. I certainly wasn’t relating this huge, gently moving expanse stretched before me with the tricky, treacherous, ever-changing waterways of the Fens.

I said, and I must have sounded so stupid, ‘What do you mean?’

And he told me.

Romain’s apprehension had grown to an alarming level by the time he got back to the cliff top. He tried to judge by the two figures sitting there so still, in surely exactly the positions they had occupied when he left, what the prevailing mood might be. Had Sibert recovered from the shock of seeing the landfall? Had he got his bearings, and could he lead the girl to the place where the thing was hidden?

Unable to contain himself, he broke into a run. Hearing him approach, Sibert turned round. ‘Oh, good,’ he said, ‘you’ve brought us our meal. Hurry up, Lassair and I are ravenous.’

Slowly Romain knelt down and, unfolding the linen wrapping, revealed bread, cuts of cold meat, a knuckle of ham, pickles, cheese, some tiny, wrinkled apples and a large sweet cake. He stared intently at Sibert and thought — hoped — he detected a smile. ‘Well?’ he demanded.

Sibert made him wait. He picked up some bread and hacked off a slice of ham, dipping it in the little pot of pickle. He took a huge bite, chewed vigorously and then through the food, said, ‘Lassair, have some, it’s delicious.’

‘Sibert, I-’ Romain began. He felt the blood surge into his face. He was on the verge of losing control.

‘It’s all right, Romain,’ the girl said. She had been eyeing him apprehensively and he wondered wryly if she feared for his health if he was made to wait in his agony of suspense much longer. ‘Sibert’s done it. He knows where the search must be carried out.’

Romain flung himself on the boy, hugging him and slapping him on the back. ‘I knew you could do it!’ he cried. ‘Didn’t I say so?’

‘Yes, Romain, you did,’ Sibert acknowledged.

He stood up again, surprised that they did not instantly do the same. ‘Come on, then!’ he said excitedly. ‘What are we waiting for?’

Sibert indicated the calm, silvery sea with the last portion of his bread and ham. ‘The tide.’

Romain looked out to where he was pointing. The new shoreline was already deep in shingle and the waves washing to and fro made a soft, hypnotic sound. There were at present some ten or twenty paces of exposed foreshore, littered with slabs of stone, pieces of tile, fragments of planking, beams and bolts of wood. It was not that long since the sea had swallowed its latest meal and the remnants were still being spat out. Beyond the foreshore a vague, circular shape was slowly appearing and suddenly Romain understood.

‘You mean — you’re saying it’s there?’ he asked in a whisper. ‘Under the sea?’

‘Under the sea now, yes,’ Sibert agreed, calmly helping himself to more bread and a chunk of cheese. ‘When the tide has gone out, it ought to be exposed. At least,’ he added cheerfully, ‘it might.’ He chewed reflectively for a while. ‘Otherwise, it’ll all depend on how long Lassair can hold her breath.’

They waited. The sun reached its zenith and began the long, slow descent into the west. Slowly, steadily, the sea fell back and the outline of the timber circle became clearer. At last Romain could contain himself no longer; he felt as if his blood was fizzing and frothing in his veins and he was light-headed and slightly nauseous.

He stood up, his head spinning. ‘We’re going down there,’ he said decisively, fighting the vertigo. ‘Come on.’

Giving his companions no time to protest, he led them away. The cliff was less than a man’s height here, the ground soft and crumbly. There was a place nearby where a stream must once have cut its way down through the newly exposed soil, and they paused to inspect its now bone-dry course. It would be easier to go that way than trying to drop straight down the cliff. Low it might be, but all the same an awkward fall could have broken an ankle. Romain went first, turning to hold out a hand to the girl, but with a faint shake of her head she declined his help and scrambled down on her own, jumping the last few feet and landing neatly like a cat. Sibert followed, sliding on his backside and setting off a small avalanche of earth and pebbles.

The cliff, Romain reflected anxiously, was indeed deeply unstable. .

They struck out across the spoil from the cliff and presently it gave way to shingle. Romain, his eyes fixed on the strange circle of ancient timbers straight ahead of him, worn by time to stark fragments, hardly noticed when he reached the first of the little pools left behind by the retreating tide. Soon his boots were soaked and he felt the sharp sting as salt water found the raw skin under his burst blister.

Now he was intent on the peculiar upturned tree stump that, with a vague sense of menace, squatted in the middle of the timber circle. Its roots were spread wide, held up to the summer sky like arms reaching out in supplication. A sudden huge shiver ran through him, all the way from his head to his toes. It had nothing to do with the chill of the water now surging around his ankles; it was fear, pure and simple. We should not be here, he thought. It is a forbidden place and there is danger lurking.

It seemed to him as he splashed through the shallow waves that all at once the bright sun faded. Looking up in alarm, expecting to see a black storm cloud coming up against the wind, he was amazed to see that the sky was still clear, undisturbed blue.

But he was in shadow; he knew it.

Another shiver ran through him. Get away, a voice seemed to whisper inside his head. Go, while you still can.

He stopped dead.

Sibert came up behind him, panting. ‘What is it?’ he demanded. ‘We should hurry — we’ve left it too late and I think the tide’s turning.’

Romain looked up. Was Sibert right? He did not know. But the sea seemed to be pushing hard against his legs. Then his mission and its vital importance broke through the enchantment and he said roughly, ‘Come, then.’

He waded inside the timber circle.

Sibert was right beside him. The girl, hampered by having to hold up her long skirts, was still several paces behind.

Romain made himself wait in silence. Sibert stood quite still, looking around him. He was sensing the place, Romain thought. He would not necessarily know straight away where to tell the girl to start looking. He would probably have to poke around and find the most likely area within the circle. And what of her? Romain shot a surreptitious glance at the girl, whose face was white and set. How close did she have to be to an object before she could pick up its presence?

So many questions, he thought in frustration. And all he could do was wait for the other two to act. Impotent, he clenched his hands into fists.

Sibert was walking around the circle, stopping by each ruined timber post to push his hands down under the rapidly deepening water. Romain watched him, aching to order him to hurry up. Then Sibert went to the upturned stump. Now he knelt down in the water, leaning forward and supporting himself on one hand while with the other he explored the gnarled and sodden surface of the tree that had died in another age of the world.

His frown of concentration was suddenly replaced by a different expression.

‘What is it?’ Romain cried, hurrying to crouch beside him, sending up a wash that drenched Sibert to the waist. With a curse, Sibert straightened up, scowling at Romain.