'Eleni.' Charles paused. Now he thought about it, perhaps he had seen the name in some of Anna Bauer's diaries. He shook his head. 'No. Can't say it rings a bell.'

'Ah, what a shame. Never mind. They're mentioned here. See? In the second paragraph. You know what I find interesting? There's an Eleni Council in existence in Budapest to this day.'

'So?'

'You're right, of course. Just a coincidence.' Beckett laughed. 'There's a Round Table club in Oxford but I suspect its members aren't all chivalric knights.' He looked back at the doc.u.ment in his hands, rolled it up and inserted it back into its tube, replacing the cap. 'How's Nicole?'

His p.r.i.c.kle of tension beginning to ease, Charles smiled. 'She's well.'

'Been a long time since I saw her. We should arrange something. Dinner.'

Charles stood. 'Yes. Let's set something up.'

They shook hands, and Charles walked back along the path towards the Danby Gate. He glanced back at Beckett once on his way out. The older man was standing by the fountain, staring at the water lilies.

CHAPTER 16.

Snowdonia Now Dusk had descended by the time Hannah, Gabriel and Leah arrived back at Llyn Gwyr. As the light leached from the sky, the temperature plunged. A numbing wind gusted around them.

They rode into the gravel courtyard at the back of the farmhouse, the breath of the horses pluming before them. The building stood in violet shadow. A solitary light in the kitchen window guarded against the approaching night.

Hannah brought the mare to a halt and dismounted. Her thighs ached, and she lifted each foot behind her, trying to ease the tension in her muscles. Gabriel watched her, sitting astride Salomon. 'Saddle-sore?' he asked.

She nodded. 'Thank you for today.'

'The pleasure was mine.' He turned to Leah. 'Did you enjoy yourself, little miss?'

Leah grinned, jumping down from the colt and rubbing its muzzle. 'I loved it. Valantin's a beautiful horse.'

'That he is.'

'Leah, it's time to say goodbye to Gabriel,' Hannah said. 'Go on into the house. I'll see you in a minute.'

Once the girl was inside, Hannah turned back to him.

Gabriel was staring at the windows of the farmhouse. 'Is he inside?'

'Who?'

'The master of Llyn Gwyr.'

'You keep asking about him.'

'Curiosity, nothing more. I want to measure myself against the man lucky enough to call Hannah Wilde his wife.' He laughed. 'See how I stack up.'

'You don't.'

Gabriel laughed harder. 'Ah, you're a cruel woman, Hannah.'

'And you're a terrible flirt.' Hannah unclipped the reins from Valantin and Landra, and used a rope to hitch the two together. She walked over to his horse, pa.s.sed him the rope, then offered him her hand. 'We're leaving soon, so I probably won't see you. It was nice meeting you, Gabriel. Truly. I actually hope you don't end up meeting those hounds.'

Gabriel reached down and shook her hand. 'The Cn Annwn won't catch me.' He winked at her. 'Nice talking to someone with only two legs for once. Goodbye, Hannah Wilde.' Clicking his tongue at the horses, he rode out of the courtyard.

She watched him cross the river at the bridge and ride up the track to the main road.

In the kitchen, she found Nate in an armchair beside the fire, eating corned beef from a tin. Leah sat at his feet, warming herself before the embers and chattering excitedly.

Nate looked up as Hannah closed the kitchen door and locked it. 'How was our friend?'

'Strange,' she said. 'Stranger still, we went past Seb's place. Our hermit friend had company.'

'What? Who?'

'Two men I've never seen before. They drove off in a big Audi 4x4.' Hannah pulled down the blind above the gla.s.s in the door. She drew the curtains across the window. 'Anything happen here?'

'Not a thing.'

'I don't like this at all, Nate. Something's going on. I don't think we should hang around to find out what.'

'What did Gabriel have to say?'

'He asked a lot of questions about you.'

'He did?' Nate frowned, studied her. 'Do you think . . .'

'I don't know.' She blew out through her cheeks, trying to slow her heartbeat. 'I'm pretty d.a.m.n freaked out right now. I think we should leave.'

'OK. Do you want to wait until first light?'

'Not really. I'd like us to go this minute. But it makes sense. We need to pack up.'

'We can secure this place for the night. Leave at sunrise.'

She nodded. 'We all sleep in the same room.'

'Agreed.'

'Mummy?'

She turned to her daughter, dismayed to see that Leah's face had paled. Hannah went to the girl, crouching at her feet. 'Oh, scamp. Come here.'

Leah clutched her. 'It's going to be OK, isn't it? We're not going to die?'

Nate reached out and stroked his daughter's head. 'Absolutely not. That's why Mummy and Daddy are here. To keep you safe. To keep us all safe.'

'He got you. The Bad Man. He hurt you.'

'And I'm getting better. We'll be out of here in the morning. Just wait till you see the place your Mummy found for us. You'll be safe there. The Bad Man won't find us. I promise you.'

Hannah cooked a stew, which they ate with the last of the bread. Afterwards, she put Leah to sleep in the master bedroom. She toured the ground floor of the house, checking locks, securing windows. She wanted to draw all the curtains, but with the lights off, she decided to keep them open. More chance of spotting intruders that way.

Once everything was locked up, she helped Nate upstairs to the bedroom. Leah was already asleep beneath the covers of the four-poster.

'I don't think I'm going to get much sleep,' Hannah said, her voice low.

'Want to take shifts?'

'I think that's wise. I'm sorry, Nate. I just have this really bad feeling.'

'Don't apologise, I trust your instincts. Shall I take the first stint?'

She shook her head, kissed him. 'I'm far too wired to doze off. Get some rest. You're still recovering.'

'You'll wake me?'

'If I'm flagging.' She knew she wouldn't. A long journey awaited them, and in his current condition it would be tough on him.

Nate was asleep in minutes. Hannah threw more logs on the fire. She moved to the side of the bedroom window, edging out her head for a look.

The darkness outside was almost absolute. Buried behind invisible cloud, the moon was a faint pearl smudge. She could just see the outline of the lake, the stone bridge over the river.

The land was still.

Jakab was out there. She had no idea how close. No way of telling. She wondered what was happening in the next valley where Sebastien's cottage stood. The sight of him talking to the two strangers had frightened her badly. He had told her he lived in isolation, had retired from the world.

And what of Gabriel? Several times during their ride he had led their conversation into dangerous territory. She had discovered little of him in return.

Perhaps it was all unconnected. Perhaps she was so exhausted that she was beginning to make connections where none existed. She looked over at the bed. Nate slept, his chest rising and falling under the blankets. Next to him, Leah had tucked her head into the crook of his arm. Hannah watched them, knowing that however exhausted she was, she would not give up. Could not.

d.a.m.n the odds, keep fighting until you have nothing left.

Her father's words. The thought of him made her chest heave with pain. That last phone call had been the most difficult conversation of her life. What had happened to him afterwards? The likelihood was that she would never find out.

Despite knowing she had locked all the doors, that no one could get into the room without crossing her first, she felt horribly exposed. The darkness outside was oppressive. It pushed at the windows.

She looked at the luminous dials of her watch. Twenty past three already. Four hours until sunrise. Three and a half hours until first light.

The longer she stayed in the room, the more her unease grew. If anything happened outside, or downstairs, she would only find out about it when it arrived at their door. Realising that her unease wasn't going to disappear, she stood up.

The shotgun was leaning in the far corner. She picked it up and, out of habit, broke the weapon. She checked that the chambers still held two rounds. They did. Spare cartridges were still tucked into the back pockets of her jeans. Into her front pocket she slid the long shaft of the Maglite. Going to the door of the bedroom, she opened it.

The hallway was a black void, from which faceless horrors could emerge. She wanted to use the torch, chase away the shadows. But she didn't want the light to be seen from outside.

Hannah stepped into the darkness, listening. Despite the fires she had kept stoked over the last few days, the air smelled musty, damp. The house creaked and settled. Wind rattled a window.

She knew there was a loose floorboard halfway along the landing, and edged around it. At the top of the stairs, she pa.s.sed the display case. She felt the eyes of the dead falcon on her. Even though she knew they were only gla.s.s, she p.r.i.c.kled at the sense of awareness. Why hadn't she taken the vile thing outside and burned it?

Hannah tiptoed past the case and down the stairs, until she was midway between floors. Silently, she lowered herself into a sitting position and rested the gun on one knee, pointing the barrels down into the gloom. She took the torch from her front pocket and placed it beside her.

Her eyes were gritty from lack of sleep. Her head throbbed. She just needed to get through the night. Tomorrow she would drive them away from here. Make sure they weren't followed. Find a hotel. Pay in cash. Sleep.

Hannah blinked at the darkness, stretched her neck from side to side, drifted.

When she opened her eyes, disorientated, she almost overbalanced. The metal of the shotgun was hot where her hands gripped it, slick with sweat. Her eyelids felt sticky. Had she dozed off?

Christ, Hannah!

She glanced at her watch, frowning at the dials, trying to make sense of the time. Fifteen minutes past five. Still dark outside. When had she left the bedroom? Three? She must have fallen asleep sitting upright, her head resting against the banisters.

With a loaded gun in your lap. Clever.

Biting off a yawn, she forced herself to focus. Had something woken her? The house was silent.

A chill waft of air caressed her. She shivered. Much colder now. The only fire still burning was in the bedroom.

Hannah tensed, raised the barrel of the gun.

Before going upstairs she had checked all the windows and doors. Earlier that day she had boarded over the smashed pane of gla.s.s in the living room. The cold draught could not be explained by the normal movement of air inside the house.

She clenched her teeth. Felt herself beginning to shake.

Focus on Nate. On Leah. Your husband, your beautiful daughter. Don't you dare let them down. Don't you dare!

Someone was in the house with them. She knew it with a sudden dreadful certainty. Was it inconceivable that the intruder had already pa.s.sed her while she slumbered? G.o.d, she didn't know.

Her left knee popped as she rose to her feet. She groped out a hand, searching for the torch.

If it's not there, I'll scream. I won't be able to help it.

Her fingers closed on it. She slipped it back into her pocket.

Eyes straining into the abyss at the bottom of the stairs, Hannah pressed her back to the wall and crept down to the hall.

At the base of the stairs, she leaned around the banister. Weak light from the porch window cast murky shapes across the floorboards. The door to the dining room was closed. Had it been like that when they'd gone up to bed? She thought it had.

Padding along the hall, she felt the wood under her feet flex with her weight. The next door on her right led to the living room. It was ajar. Beyond it, the hallway took a dogleg to the left, leading to the kitchen.

Don't leave an open door behind you.

Moving nearer the living room allowed her to see past the corner to the kitchen. Its doorway was a black cavity. Keeping it in her peripheral vision, she ducked her head inside the living room, sweeping it with the gun.