The Dream Weavers Barbara Erskine (e ink ebook reader txt) 📖

library.’ One look at her face told him something was wrong. ‘What’s happened?’

She told him about Emma. ‘It was her first exam. The school got in touch with them and told them she never arrived.’

‘Oh no.’ He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. ‘That poor child. She must be so distressed and confused. To skip her exams is terrible. I take it this is wretched Eadburh again?’

‘I would guess so. Simon thinks Emma will try to come here. I promised him I would ring at once if I hear anything. He’s waiting at the cottage in case she turns up there.’

‘Is she still looking for Elisedd?’

Bea sat down opposite him. ‘It seems that Elisedd was murdered by Charlemagne. But Em is lost in a world of dreams and ghosts. I don’t know what she’s thinking.’

‘What’s Eadburh thinking?’

Bea gave an exhausted smile. ‘Last time I looked she was heading back to Britannia, once more afraid for her life. She didn’t die at Pavia as the chronicle said, but who knows what happened to her on the way back.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t suppose the cathedral can afford to buy the chronicle?’

He laughed wryly. ‘As if! I told Jane the only option might be crowdfunding. She told me the people who own it have just had their baby, by the way. A little boy.’ He leaned forward on his elbows. ‘That’s not somewhere Emma might go, is it? Coedmawr?’

Bea shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Whenever she rushed off somewhere, it was to find Elise. She has this vision of a handsome, lusty prince.’

‘And where would this handsome lusty prince be when he wasn’t on Offa’s Ridge?’

She never got to answer the question.

‘I’ve had a text from Emma!’ Simon’s voice was taut with anxiety as she picked up the phone. ‘She’s on her way to North Wales. She wants you and me to meet her tomorrow at Eliseg’s Pillar.’

44

Simon had checked the history of the pillar. ‘I don’t think it was the seat of the kings,’ he said to Bea as they drove north. ‘I’ve seen so many pictures of it. It was originally a stone cross, placed on a Bronze Age burial mound. Not a palace. If the palace was anywhere, it was on top of the hill nearby. Castell Dinas Bran.’

They had left his car in the Close and Bea was driving as he sat beside her, his phone in his hand. His eyes kept flicking towards it.

‘I’m sure she’ll ring,’ she said at last.

‘It’s still switched off. I don’t know what she was thinking. To walk out on the day of her first exam.’

‘Maybe she was more stressed about them than we suspected and this has nothing to do with Eadburh.’

‘That’s what the headmistress said. Not about Eadburh – we haven’t mentioned any of that to her obviously – but about exams. She knew Emma hadn’t done enough revision.’ She heard him sigh. ‘The head said we mustn’t worry too much. She can always resit. It happens a lot, apparently. The strain is too much for some kids. When they realise the world doesn’t fall apart because they haven’t turned up, they relax a bit.’

Except that wasn’t what had happened to Emma. They both thought it although neither voiced their fears.

It took them almost two hours to drive to Llangollen. The Pillar of Eliseg turned out to be a short walk along the main road from the beautiful ruins of the Abbey of Valle Crucis. It stood on the edge of a field, a broken stone shaft on top of a steep mound. The carved inscription had long ago worn away, and the family tree of the kings of Powys had only been rescued by a transcription copied down in the seventeenth century. The mound itself had, it was thought, been the resting place of families who might have been their ancestors going back as far as the Bronze Age. They stood side by side in front of the notice board. ‘It was once a great Celtic cross,’ Simon murmured. ‘The cross from which the valley and the abbey take their name.’

There was no sign of Emma, and her phone was still switched off.

The Cadw ticket office for the abbey was open. Simon went in. He showed them Emma’s photo on his phone.

‘She was here. Yesterday. Asking about the history of the cross, looking for the palace of the kings of Powys,’ he said as he climbed back into the car. ‘The man in there was very helpful. Luckily he was a history buff. He said after the Romans left at the beginning of the fifth century, the kings of Powys probably lived in Castell Dinas Bran, the Iron Age fort on the hill up there.’ He pointed vaguely behind them, ‘But at the date Emma is looking for, the main seat of the kings was at a place called Mathrafal, which is near Meifod, about twenty miles from here. She had a rucksack with her and was wearing boots. He got the impression she was hiking.’

‘She was going to walk there?’ Bea had reached into the back of her car for the road atlas lying on the back seat.

‘He gave her some leaflets.’ Simon reached for his phone. ‘She’s still not picking up. She must know we’d be frantic.’

‘Perhaps she doesn’t want to be found. Not yet.’ Bea sighed. ‘She doesn’t know the full story. That Elisedd died far away. Perhaps in her mind they are still young and in love. Oh, poor Emma! You’d better ring Val and let her know what we’re doing.’

Simon studied the OS map in his hands. His informant had inked a red cross on the place for him. ‘He reckoned it’s about forty minutes’ drive from here. He said there are actually two castles there, of different dates, both hard to find.’

They found the first castle on a tump in a field. It was a beautiful site, surrounded by ancient trees on