The String Diaries (21 page)

‘Nor do I. But we’re fighting a war now. We need to think strategically. On the slightest chance that Jakab makes it here, he’s likely to use someone like Gabriel against us. It might be useful to know something about the man. Something we can use; something we can validate.’

The way Nate so matter-of-factly raised the possibility of Gabriel’s supplanting, and how they could armour themselves against its consequences, chilled her deeply. Yet he had only voiced the same thought that had entered her head.

Were they beginning to lose a vital part of their humanity? She didn’t want anyone else to be pulled into their nightmare; too many people had died already. But she only had Nate and Leah left. Right or wrong, she would trade the lives of any number of strangers for theirs. If Gabriel insisted on interfering, she would not add his safety to that of those she already sought to protect. As Nate said, a little knowledge could be indispensable.

Outside, she saw the Irishman pull off a leather glove and flex his freed fingers. He swung himself down from the gelding and strode to the back door. ‘Leah, remember what we discussed.’

As Gabriel caught sight of Hannah through the glass, he grinned, and she found herself surprised once more at the contrast of his cobalt blue eyes against the whiteness of his teeth.

Heart thumping hard in her chest, Hannah walked to the door. She replayed what Sebastien had told her of Gabriel.

Sociable fellow. Always making jokes. Irritating as hell. Give him half a chance and he’ll be over here poking his head into things that don’t concern him
.

The old man had certainly been right about that last part. Hannah put her hand to the door handle and opened it.

‘Well, there’s a sight,’ Gabriel greeted her, putting his hands on his hips. ‘The vision of Llyn Gwyr stands before me. Mistress of the lake, admonisher of poachers. Protector of fish!’

‘What are you doing here, Gabriel?’

He filled his lungs with Welsh mountain air and exhaled, his face joyous. Raising his arms, he performed a slow pirouette and shouted, ‘Living! Breathing! Exulting under God’s sky! Did you ever witness a day with as much promise as this?’

‘There’s a storm on its way.’

‘Oh, no. Not today. The storm’s coming, all right. And we should prepare, because when it arrives it’ll be savage, no doubt. But it won’t come today. Today is a day for celebrating life, commemorating its passing, and witnessing nature’s swansong. Autumn, in all its pageantry.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Your daughter said you ride?’

‘I do.’ Hannah found the man’s words beginning to weave their spell on her, much as they had before. The more he talked, the more at ease she felt, and the more dangerous she felt the situation become.

Don’t lower your guard. Something is wrong here. I don’t know what, but something is wrong
.

‘Will you join me for a ride?’ Gabriel said. ‘I’d ask you by name, but you haven’t given me that honour.’

‘I can’t leave my daughter on her own.’

At this, he turned and with a flourish gestured at the mounts. ‘Behold three horses. One for the feckless Gabe. One for the little miss, and one for the tall miss.’

Leah jumped into the gap between Hannah and the doorway. She peered at the horses and squealed in excitement. ‘Mummy, can we go? Please? Just for a while? You know you’ll love it!
Please
, Mummy!’

Gabriel laughed. ‘Well, that sounds like an endorsement to me.’

Hannah folded her arms. ‘We don’t have riding hats.’

‘Brought you a couple.’

‘It’s close to noon. Leah needs to eat.’ She flinched, shocked that she had so carelessly revealed her daughter’s name.

Gabriel’s eyes glinted. Was that triumph she saw reflected there? He indicated the pack attached to his saddle. ‘I come bearing bread, cold meats, cheese. Flasks of soup and chocolate biscuits. Ambrosia. Food of the gods, no less.’

His manner was so absurd, so excessively theatrical, that she found it difficult to remain cautious of him.

Idiot! That’s exactly why you have to be so careful
.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Give me the pleasure of your company for two hours and I’ll show you and the little miss a few of the secrets these grand old mountains like to keep to themselves.’ Gabriel tilted his head to one side. ‘I ask you: will you receive a better offer than that today?’

They took the trail that followed the near shore of the lake, before curving north towards the first slopes of Cadair Idris. Gabriel led, followed by Leah on the grey colt. Hannah had been worried by the young horse’s temperament at first, but it had behaved impeccably so far. She followed on the mare, eyes moving from her daughter every minute or so to linger on Gabriel’s back, wondering at the man’s motivations.

Torn clouds continued to jostle across the sky, filtering the sunlight. In the distance, she saw a falcon hanging in the air, gliding on a current. It watched their progress for a while before banking and diving to the earth.

Despite the unusual situation, it felt fantastic to be riding again. The union between horse and rider had always brought her peace. She leaned forward in the saddle and rubbed her mare’s flank. The animal’s ears twitched and it blew through its nostrils.

Ahead, the path widened and began to climb. Their horses’ hooves scraped on the rocky moraine. As the slope grew more challenging, Hannah watched her daughter closely, but even though the colt she rode was young, it appeared to need only a light touch.

Moss-slicked boulders – ancient detritus from long-extinct glaciers – lay strewn across the landscape. Gabriel slowed his pace until his horse fell in step alongside her. They both watched Leah guide the grey up the incline.

Hannah felt Gabriel’s eyes appraising her.

‘How’s she handling?’ he asked.

‘I’ll give you one thing, you know how to train a horse. What’s her name?’

‘Landra.’

‘And yours?’

‘This is Salomon. Your daughter’s riding Valantin.’

‘Good names.’

He grinned. ‘Yours is the only one I don’t know.’

She studied him, eyes narrowing. Then, impulsively, she made a decision. ‘Hannah,’ she said. ‘Hannah Wilde.’ She saw no flash of recognition in his eyes as she told him.

Gabriel’s grin widened and he touched his finger to the brim of his hat. ‘Hannah Wilde. Lady of Llyn Gwyr, hidden gem of Snowdonia. I’m honoured to be formally introduced.’

‘You’re an unusual man, Gabriel.’

He laughed. ‘Surely you mean charismatic?’

‘I said unusual.’

‘It’s what living in these mountains with nothing but horses for company will do to you.’

‘It’s beautiful country.’

‘Aye, it is that.’

‘There’s no Mrs Gabriel?’

A flicker of sorrow crossed his face, disappearing as quickly as it had arrived. ‘Not yet, there isn’t. A heinous crime, that, is it not?’

‘Shocking.’

For a while they rode in silence. Then he said, ‘After how angry you were the other day, I thought it unlikely you’d join me.’

‘I wasn’t angry. I just wasn’t expecting company.’

‘You were a wee bit angry.’

‘You shouldn’t have been on the lake. We came here for some peace.’

‘Ah, well you couldn’t pick a finer place for that. Am I forgiven, then? Truly, I didn’t mean to intrude.’

‘Turning up with three horses in tow isn’t intruding?’

‘Perhaps a little intrusive. I just had a feeling you’d enjoy this.’

She laughed drily. ‘Because you know me so well.’

‘Conversation with you is like playing poker with a great white.’

‘Charming comparison.’

‘You’ve got a much nicer mouth than a great white, if you don’t mind me saying.’

‘See? Unusual.’

Their eyes met.

‘What about you, Hannah Wilde? You’re wearing a wedding ring.’

‘Very observant.’

‘It’s not just a device to ward off charismatic Irishmen?’

‘I said unusual, not charismatic. And the answer’s no, it’s not.’

‘You’re married, then. Shall we turn back?’ He grinned again to show he was joking. ‘So where is the lucky man?’

‘You ask a lot of questions.’

‘I’m an unusual man.’

Hannah shook her head, exasperated, and squeezed Landra’s flanks with her calves. The horse responded. She overtook Gabriel’s gelding and caught up with Leah.

Just after midday they arrived at a series of huge boilerplate slabs, the overflowing stone ridges damp with condensation. Dismounting, they led the horses across. On the other side, they climbed back into the saddle and followed the trail further up the mountain. They rode through a wood, its steep floor veined with the mossy roots of trees seeking anchorage among the rocks. Pale grey fungi bloomed on their trunks.

The air was noticeably colder at this altitude. As they emerged from the trees the wind bit at them with sharper teeth. When they crested a ridge tufted with coarse grass, Hannah drew an awed breath. A huge glacial lake lay before them. Towering peaks of rock surrounded the basin on three sides, their shadowed cliff faces pocked and slashed with fissures. Below, the dark blue water of the lake shimmered as eddies of wind dimpled its surface. ‘This is amazing. Where are we?’

Gabriel jumped from his mount and led the horse to the water’s edge. ‘Llyn Cau,’ he told her. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it? Legend has it that the lake is bottomless.’

‘Yeah, right,’ Leah said, laughing.

‘They also say the dragon Afanc lives at the bottom of it.’ he told her. ‘So you’d better be careful what you say, little miss.’

‘Thought you said it didn’t have a bottom,’ Leah retorted, jumping down from Valantin and leading him towards the water – copying Gabriel, Hannah thought, with a prickle of unease.

Gabriel held up his hands in mock resignation. ‘Ouch. Scuppered by a twelve year old.’

‘You know, I’m actually only nine,’ Leah told him, her face solemn.

‘Thanks, little miss, but that makes it even worse. Here, let Valantin have a drink for a while. Once he’s had his fill, we’ll give him some grain. It’s in one of the packs. I’ll show you what to do. In the meantime,’ he said, unfastening a pannier from Salomon, ‘it’s lunchtime, and unless I give you a decent feed, I’ve a feeling your ma’s going to tan my hide.’

Gabriel spread two large blankets beside Llyn Cau’s shore and weighed down their corners with rocks. From the pannier he produced baguettes, a side of ham wrapped in foil, roasted chicken, a block of cheddar. He set out plates and cups, and took out a knife. Its blade looked cold and sharp.

Unscrewing the cap from a large thermos, he asked, ‘Who’s for tomato soup?’

‘Me!’ Leah sat down on the blanket as Gabriel poured out three steaming servings. Hannah joined them, cradling a cup between her chilled fingers.

‘Up there’s the summit,’ he said, nodding at the highest of the peaks before them. ‘Penygadair. We won’t tackle it today. It’s a steep ascent. But on a good day the views are spectacular.’

‘They’re spectacular here.’

‘Aye, they are. You should see this place on a clear night, with the moon on the water and the stars filling the sky.’

‘You’ve come up here at night?’ Leah asked, her eyes wide.

‘Many times.’

‘Why?’

Gabriel looked sideways at her. ‘Searching for the
Cŵn Annwn
, of course.’

‘What’s that?’

‘The
Cŵn Annwn
? The spectral hounds of Welsh folklore. Huge black dogs with burning red eyes. Fangs as long as my forearm, dripping with saliva. They only hunt on certain nights of the year, between Christmas Day and Twelfth Night, on the slopes of Cadair Idris. Right where we sit. And they bring death to anyone who hears their howl.’

Leah frowned. ‘Why would you want to hear them, then?’

Gabriel scrunched up his face into a leer. ‘Why, to find out if it’s true, of course.’

The girl laughed.

Hannah shook her head, unable to prevent herself from smiling. ‘Stop it, you’ll frighten her.’

‘No he won’t. It’s silly. There are no such things.’

Gabriel shrugged in defeat. ‘Foiled again. By a nine year old.’

After their lunch, with the temperature dropping and the summit obscured by cloud, they packed up their picnic and folded the blankets. Gabriel took a sack of crushed barley from a pannier and showed Leah how to feed the horses.

Hannah watched them working together, noticing how happy and relaxed her daughter seemed. She was grateful for it. The coming days would be a strain on the girl. Soon they would be moving on from Llyn Gwyr, relocating to another new environment where everything would be unfamiliar.

They mounted up, and Gabriel led the way back down the slope. When they passed through a ravine and saw a waterfall spilling down the rocks, its roaring waters white with foam, Hannah realised he was taking a different route. Emerging from the ravine, they descended further, down grassy slopes spotted with heather. The land dipped beneath them in a series of diminishing stacks. They skirted a rocky hillock to their right; beyond this, the lip of the next ridge plunged over a vertical cliff face. As they drew closer, and the land beneath came into view, she saw that the drop before them was at least a few hundred feet. Gabriel approached the precipice and turned to follow its line south.

As Hannah’s horse neared the edge, she spotted a cottage nestled in the valley below. It was small, stone-built, with woodsmoke curling from its chimney. Two cars were parked out front. The first was a white Audi Q7, mud streaking its sides. The second was a battered blue Land Rover Defender.

With a jolt, she realised that the Defender was Sebastien’s. As she watched, three men came into view around the side of the building. Sebastien’s tall frame and fuzz of white hair were unmistakable. Hannah did not recognise the other two men. One wore a red mountaineering jacket and was powerfully built, his face covered by a dark thatch of beard. The second man, shorter and considerably older than the first, and dressed in a grey suit, seemed to be talking while the other two listened.

A feeling of dread began to creep over her. She sensed Gabriel ride up beside her, and she glanced across at him.