The Warrior’s Princess. Barbara Erskine

bene. Let’s start.’ Carmella reached down and setting the cards on the table, cut the pack. Will looked up and caught Jess’s eye. He gave a small grimace and she smiled. This wasn’t going to work, but if it amused the others, then she was content to watch. She firmly pushed away the worm of unease which was beginning to rise deep in her stomach and reached over for her glass of wine, sipping it quietly as she studied the layout of cards which Carmella was setting out on the table. The warm polished surface of the old wood reflected the candlelight steadily. No breath of wind strayed in through the window. The night was hot and very still.

      ‘OK. Now I start with the card of the child.’ Carmella reached seemingly at random and turned over one of the cards. ‘Il fante di bastoni. So here she is again.’

      Jess caught her breath. None of them said anything.

      Slowly and methodically Carmella turned over the remaining cards in the spread. The silence in the room grew heavy. Will and Steph exchanged glances as Carmella sat staring at the cards. She leaned forward, tapping the table with a scarlet fingernail. Then at last she looked up. ‘This young lady, she is in danger. Someone from her past is trying to find her. Hunting her down the centuries.’ She frowned. ‘I don’t understand. This is complicated. Molto pericoloso. I have never read such a spread before. And you want me to try to speak to her?’ She glanced doubtfully from Kim to Jess.

      ‘Did she grow up to be a woman?’ Jess whispered. ‘Or did she die as a child? Can you tell from the cards?’

      Carmella stared back down at the pattern on the table before her. ‘She speaks from two worlds.’ She trailed her fingers across the centre of the spread. ‘She lived two thousand years ago, you said. So obviously she is in spirit now.’

      ‘Yes, but did she live to grow up?’ Jess leaned forward. ‘Can you see her family? She lost a brother and sister. Are they there?’

      ‘The cards speak of torment and fear. They speak of resolutions.’ Carmella tapped her finger again. ‘They speak of loss and of anger and sorrow. And they speak of love. At the end of her life, she found love, but for how long and with whom I cannot say.’ She frowned. ‘Perhaps it was at the moment of death.’ Shaking her head she swept all the cards into a heap and leaned away from the table. ‘I am not sure we should try and call her.’

      ‘What!’ Kim stared at her. ‘Of course we should. How else will Jess know what happened to her? Jess has been talking to this girl. So has Steph. They know her already. She has been communicating with them in Wales. What we want is for her to speak to us here in Rome. Can you do that?’

      Carmella shrugged. She half-turned on her seat and reached for her glass from the bookshelf behind them and turning back to the centre, sipped thoughtfully. ‘To those in spirit all places and times are one. It does not matter where you are.’

      ‘Unless she is anchored to the house in Wales. Doesn’t that happen? A ghost hangs around in a spot where something special happened,’ Will put in. He raised an eyebrow.

      Carmella caught the quizzical smile. ‘You do not believe. That does not matter. If she wants to speak, she will. Come.’ She put down her glass of wine and sat forward on the edge of the chair. ‘We hold hands like this.’ She spread her arms and reached for Kim’s hand. On the other side she beckoned Will to take her fingers. After a second’s hesitation he did so, then he in turn reached out to Jess.

      They sat in silence for a full minute, then Carmella spoke. Her voice was low and husky. ‘Tell me her name again, this child from Wales.’

      ‘Eigon,’ Jess whispered.

      Carmella nodded. ‘OK. Now, sit quietly. Close your eyes. I will call her.’

      Jess held her breath. Beside her Will was sitting, eyes closed as instructed, a slight smile on his lips. His hand was warm and firm in hers. On her other side Steph’s palm was slightly damp. Jess opened one eye and peeped at her. Steph looked pale in the candlelight. Her face was composed; as still as marble.

      ‘Eigon. We wish to speak to you. Show yourself here before us and perhaps we can help you in your unhappiness.’ Carmella’s throaty Italian accent rang out in the shadows. ‘Eigon, I am asking you to appear before us here. Steph and Jess you know. You have asked their help before. Now we are here to try and answer your pleas.’

      Carmella paused. The candles behind her guttered as a slight draught permeated the warm night air. There was someone else out there in the ether, listening, tuning in. She frowned. ‘Please come to us, Eigon. We are here for you.’ Her voice lifted as it grew stronger. She was no longer pleading. It was a command. ‘Come and tell us your story, Eigon from Wales!’

      ‘Wales didn’t exist then,’ Jess murmured. Her eyes were tightly closed.

      Carmella shrugged. ‘So. Eigon, of the tribes, can you hear me? The cards speak of love and sorrow and fear. Tell us your story. We are listening.’

      The distant sound of a siren, faraway towards the centre of the city only accentuated the silence of the room as the candles flickered again. One of the flames faded and with a slight hiss it went out. Jess’s mouth had gone dry. She was, she realised, clutching Will and Steph’s hands as tightly as she could.

      ‘Bene. She comes,’ Carmella breathed. Her eyes were closed, her face still. ‘Can you sense her in the room?’

      The sudden jangle of the doorbell through the apartment jerked them out of the silence with frightening violence.

      ‘Dio!’ Carmella opened her eyes angrily. ‘That is so dangerous! What fool rings the doorbell at mezzanotte?’ She glanced at her wristwatch. ‘It is so late!’ They were all staring at each other, their link with one another broken.

      Kim scrambled to her feet. She went to the door and flicked on the lights. ‘Oh God, I am so sorry. I don’t know who could be here so late. I’ll send them away, then we can go on.’

      ‘Too late! She is gone!’ Carmella reached for her glass and angrily downed the last of her wine. ‘The spell is broken. She will not come now.’

      ‘She will.’ Jess hadn’t moved. She was still staring down at the table, her eyes fixed on the discarded heap of cards. ‘I can feel her. She is still here.’

      In the doorway Kim hesitated. ‘I’ll get rid of them, whoever they are. I am sure she will come back, Carmella. She wants to talk to Jess.’

      The doorbell rang again. Kim disappeared into the hall. Will stood up and went over to the side table. He picked up the bottle of wine and brought it back to top up their glasses. ‘You really think she was about to appear?’ he asked softly.

      Jess nodded. ‘I could feel her in the room.’

      Carmella glanced at her over her glass. ‘Why do you need me? You can do this on your own. You ask. She comes.’

      Jess bit her lip. ‘It can’t be that easy.’

      ‘Why not? The dead are always with us. Did not one of your English poets say that? You are an English teacher, you should know.’

      ‘The past. The past is always with us,’ Jess said. She smiled. ‘LP Hartley.’

      ‘Is that not the same?’

      ‘No. Not really.’

      ‘All right. Then what about, Il n’y a pas de morts. That was Maeterlinck, I think.’

      Jess smiled. ‘“There are no dead”. That sounds a bit more like it. Did you see her, Carmella?’

      Carmella shook her head. ‘I could sense her. Hovering. In the shadows.’

      ‘Does she really want to make contact –’ Jess broke off as Kim appeared in the doorway.

      ‘Guess who’s here! It makes our old teachers’ reunion complete!’ Kim stepped aside.

      Dan was standing in the doorway.

      Jess