Precious Cloud greeted me with a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek.
‘You look more rested,’ I observed.
‘I’ve been sleeping at nights,’ she replied with a smile. ‘It was something I thought I’d forgotten how to do.’
‘I’m so glad.’
‘Catherine, can we go riding together this morning?’
I looked at Yeipanitl. It was plain from his face that he did not approve of the idea.
‘Perhaps it would be better to wait a few more days.’
‘Please, Catherine! I’ve been so cooped up. Just for half an hour, just you and me.’
I deliberated, unsure what was best. I could see that Chicomeztli didn’t like the idea either.
‘We don’t have to race the horses. Just a trot. I need to get out.’
‘A walk would be better at this stage,’ Yeipanitl said.
She ignored him. ‘Please, Catherine.’
I smiled at her. ‘All right.’
I went off to see that the horses were readied. Yeipanitl joined me in the stable.
‘I don’t think this is wise.’
‘I’ll take care of her,’ I assured him.
‘She’s still quite weak and far from fully recovered.’
‘I’m aware of that. I’ll keep a close eye on her.’
‘It’s vital she doesn’t do anything too strenuous at this stage.’
‘She needs to be allowed to do something she wants to. I think it’s important we let her.’
It was another cold morning, and Precious Cloud was bundled up in a sheepskin coat and fur hat when we went outside. She mounted Adamant quite effortlessly, as ever disdaining the stirrups. Chicomeztli fussed around as his own mount was made ready. Although Precious Cloud had wanted to ride with me alone, we had agreed a compromise by which he would accompany us.
Precious Cloud tweaked Adamant’s reins, and he trotted off. I spurred Archimedes until we were abreast of her, while Chicomeztli kept pace a few yards behind.
It was a clear, windless morning, the sun casting stark tree shadows on the edges of the grass, smoke rising from a distant field where the last of the autumn leaves was being burned. I could hear Precious Cloud inhaling deeply the sharp air. I assumed she wanted to talk privately with me, but we rode in silence for a while, following the path of the railway line towards Crowthorne station. I watched a hawk hovering high above the embankment.
‘It’s so good to be outside,’ she said at last. ‘I thought I’d never escape.’
Cautiously I said, ‘Escape from what?’
She shrugged. ‘From the attentions of others. Before I came here, I used to ride nearly every day, alone. Sailing the seas of grass, my father used to call it. He always preferred to drive the freeways in his Cadillacs.’
‘He’s not dead, you know. You can still go and visit him.’
‘Sometimes I’d be gone for hours, half a day or more. Prairie or cornfields, it didn’t matter to me – I’d just ride. Often the farmers complained to my father that I was ruining their crops, but he never did anything. I enjoyed being on my own.’
‘It’s very difficult to be alone here,’ I said, with some sympathy.
‘Oh, no. It’s very easy, Catherine. Solitude is what’s difficult.’
She spurred Adamant to a faster trot. He looked frisky, nostrils twitching in the crisp air. We were approaching the railway station when Precious Cloud wheeled him around.
‘Race you back to the house!’ she said suddenly, and with a whack of the reins, galloped off before I could reply.
I turned Archimedes and we hurried off in pursuit, Chicomeztli also following. Precious Cloud was already fifty yards ahead of me, and the gap began to lengthen as she kicked hard against Adamant’s flanks, frost flurries erupting from his hoofs as he raced across the frozen ground.
I could feel Archimedes labouring on his bandaged leg, and I knew we had no chance of catching her. Chicomeztli, on a horse that was little more than a pony, was even further back. I saw Precious Cloud gallop through the gates of the house before she was lost to sight behind its walls.
I was certain she would be quite safe now, but I did not tarry. As fast as I was able, I galloped to the gates.
The stables were in sight, but there was no sign of her there. Then I saw her, still riding hard, disappearing around the rear of the house.
It could only have been a matter of minutes, but by the time I caught sight of Adamant again he was riderless, standing beside the New Lake, twitching his head. And in the lake itself, there was a jagged dark hole in the ice.
If only I had known that we could have saved her even then. But both Chicomeztli and I leapt to the obvious conclusion – as she must have wanted us to – that she had thrown herself into the lake. And so we wasted a precious hour summoning help and smashing the ice and trawling the shallow waters until we realized she was not there at all. Only then did we notice that Adamant’s reins were gone, only then did one of the maids-in-waiting stumble upon the lambskin coat cast off near the edge of the woods beyond the lake.
It was one of the soldiers from the barracks who found her, hanging naked from the bough of a tree, the reins forming a crude noose which had broken her neck when she jumped off. In her waistcoat we found a note, addressed to me, which said, ‘Tell Extepan to forgive me. Please look after my son.’ And that was all.
The next day Bevan arrived from London with the news that there had been a spate of arson attacks on military installations in London and a botched attempt to assassinate Iztacaxayauh by a woman variously described as mad, a feminist anarchist and a member of the New Crusade, a fundamentalist Protestant sect.
I was hardly interested in this, despite having asked Bevan to come so that he could bring me up to date with recent developments. By then I had already reached a decision.
‘Extepan must receive the news personally,’ I told Chicomeztli. ‘I’m going to the front.’
He immediately protested that this was quite impossible, there were no civilian flights to the war zone, any flight at all would be highly dangerous, and he could not possibly allow me to risk it. I refused to brook any objections. He tried to compromise by suggesting that someone else be sent in my stead, but I insisted on going myself.
Finally he could see that I would not be moved. He raised both palms as if surrendering.
‘It would have to be done unofficially. I could never get authorization at the highest level.’
‘I don’t care how you manage it, as long as you do.’
‘It’s madness.’
I merely stared at him. Finally he turned and went out.
Throughout our verbal tussle, I was aware of Bevan watching me dispassionately.
‘I feel responsible,’ I said to him. ‘I took her riding against her doctor’s advice. It’s partly my fault.’
‘You were a friend to her. Without you, she’d have probably done it sooner.’
‘That may be true. But it still doesn’t alter the fact that she managed to kill herself while I was supposed to be looking after her.’
‘So you’re going off to the enemy front line.’
‘I have to, Bevan. It’s a question of honour, duty.’
He smiled, looking unconvinced. ‘Curious, are you? To see what it’s like?’
‘In my position, you often have to do things you might not wish to do.’
He gave this the scorn it deserved. ‘Even when everyone with a bit of sense advises against it?’
In truth, I could not fully explain my compulsion to go to the front. The reasons I had given were sincere but not exactly sufficient.
‘Are you saying I shouldn’t go?’
‘Bit of a gamble, if you ask me. For a woman of your position.’