The Joys of My Life

Nine

I n te mid-morning something else happened to push the problem of the chapel from her attention: Josse arrived and before him on the big horse sat his daughter.

Helewise, who had been on her way to the infirmary to see if the new patient was awake, saw them ride in and hurried over.

‘May I leave Horace here?’ Josse said after the most perfunctory of greetings.

‘Of course, but-’

Josse had slipped down from the saddle and was lowering Meggie to the ground. ‘Meggie, take Horace over there to the stables,’ he said to her, pointing. ‘He knows the way and he won’t be naughty.’

Meggie, Helewise observed, did not need that assurance. She seemed to have no fear of the big horse but, on the contrary, treated him with such easy familiarity that he might have been a pet puppy, though her head, with its brown curls, barely reached Horace’s broad chest.

Josse was whispering urgently and Helewise turned to listen. ‘She turned up all by herself at New Winnowlands yesterday afternoon,’ he said, ‘and I need to find out who brought her and where her mother is.’

‘Joanna is not in the forest?’

He hesitated. Then, ‘No. I last saw her in Chartres.’

In Chartres! Oh, why had he not mentioned it? Watching his face, in which the profound anxiety was all too readable, she realized that now was not the time to ask. ‘You’re going to speak to the Domina?’

‘I need to speak to one of them, but the Domina may be in Chartres too — they’re up to something there, something to do with the new cathedral. I can’t fathom it.’ He sounded both distressed and angry.

‘The important thing is that Meggie is safe with you,’ she said, and instantly saw from the sudden lightening of his expression that it was exactly the right thing.

‘Aye, so she is,’ he murmured. Then, with a quick smile, he held out his hand to Meggie, trotting back from the stables, and the two of them set off for the forest.

Watching them, Helewise realized that she hadn’t had a chance to tell him about the wounded man in the infirmary. She would make sure to do so when they came back.

Josse and Meggie walked slowly down the forest tracks until they reached the clearing between the ancient, majestic oaks where Josse had encountered the forest people before. In the middle, standing quite still in a pool of sunlight as if she was waiting for him, was the Domina.

Meggie gave a cry of delight and ran up to her and the old woman’s severe expression relaxed into a smile. She bent down, hugged Meggie and whispered something. Meggie nodded vigorously and said, ‘Yes, yes, I am, thank you, lady.’

‘I asked her,’ the Domina said, straightening up as Josse approached, ‘if she is well and happy, and you heard the answer.’ She stared down at the child. ‘Indeed, I did not need to ask,’ she murmured, ‘for it is plain to see.’

Angry at what he read as a suggestion that his child might not be properly cared for by her own father, Josse said coldly, ‘She is my daughter and I love her. I would not leave her unattended in a courtyard and trust that no harm would come to her.’

‘We knew she was safe,’ the Domina replied mildly. ‘The abbess’s daughter-in-law was within; her own child was playing with Meggie.’

‘Why is she here?’ Josse demanded, in no way mollified by the Domina’s reasonable answer. ‘Why did Joanna send her home to me? I was in Chartres — I saw Joanna — ’ or at least, he thought, I believe I did — ‘and she could have handed Meggie over to me then!’

The Domina regarded him steadily for some moments, Meggie, bored by the grown-up talk, had wandered away and was struggling to get up on to the branch of a birch tree. When the Domina finally spoke, it was not in answer to Josse’s question. ‘The spirit that has nurtured the world since its creation is retreating, Josse,’ she said. ‘Have you not perceived this? Men think with their heads and not their hearts, and they value material things to the exclusion of almost everything else. They build higher and more magnificently and say it is to the glory of God, but is it not rather to the glory of those who pay? Their great constructions shout out, “We have wealth,” not, “We believe,” and such a sentiment is not prompted by true faith.’

‘I…’ Josse was unsure how to reply. ‘Joanna said they — you — have to protect something at Chartres that is threatened. Is that what you mean?’

‘Yes. The spot where the cathedral stands in the Shining City was sacred to us long before the new religion spread from the East. We are and have always been willing to share it, for we understand that the priests are also profoundly moved by its power. They, however, seek to exclude us, and now it is only by acting furtively that we have any hope of adding our own contribution to this precious place. We will not be ignored, Josse; we also have something to offer.’

Rarely for the Domina, her emotion was showing on her face; Josse saw a definite flush spread over the pale cheeks. He gave her a chance to recover, then said, ‘Joanna implied something of the sort. She.. I know she is powerful now, and I thought she meant that she and others of your people would…’ He did not know how to express it. ‘Well, that you’d leave something of your power there in the cathedral. There’s that maze thing — I wondered maybe if that would be a sort of focus for you.’

The Domina nodded. ‘Yes, it is an ancient symbol and the priests do not truly understand it. They are laying down the labyrinth because we have put it into their minds to do so, and they will accept our gift of the sacred plaque that is to be placed at the heart of the maze. They believe — ’ there was a trace of scorn in her voice — ‘that the labyrinth is simply a symbol of the journey to their holy city. It is that, it’s true, but the labyrinth exists also on other levels that are far more profound. But,’ she added conclusively, ‘there is no need for any except us to know it.’

‘So Joanna is there adding her contribution,’ Josse said, returning to things closer to his understanding, ‘and when she has done so, she will come back.’ The Domina did not reply. ‘She’ll be back?’ Josse spoke louder and turned the words into a question.

Still the Domina did not at first reply. Then, chillingly, she said, ‘Something of her will return. As for Joanna herself, perhaps.’

Fear clutched Josse’s heart in a cold grip. ‘What do you mean?’ he whispered. ‘She must come back — her life is here. Her child is here.’ I am here, he might have added.

The Domina stared at him and he thought he saw sympathy in her deep eyes. ‘You love her, Josse, even though you do not begin to comprehend what she is. She in her turn loves you, although at present the task before her is so great that there is room in her heart and her mind for little else.’

‘But-’

She raised an imperious hand and stilled the protest. ‘This is what she was born for,’ she said. ‘Her birth was predicted, for her mother saw the future with unusual clarity and did what was necessary to protect the Great Spirit who inspires we who follow the old ways. Her mother gave up her bodily existence to ensure Joanna’s survival. Joanna herself may have to make the same sacrifice.’

‘Give up her bodily existence?’ he echoed in a horrified whisper. ‘What does that mean? She’ll die, like Mag Hobson did?’

The Domina sighed. ‘It is hard to explain, for you do not see very far into our world,’ she murmured. ‘Joanna’s mother — the woman you knew as Mag Hobson — is dead to the physical world, it is true, yet the elders of my people experience her in a different realm. It is this realm to which Joanna may progress if-’ She stopped. Then, in a whisper, ‘If it proves necessary.’

In that terrible moment Josse could only think of losing her. His mouth suddenly dry, he said, ‘Will I see her again? Will I be able to enter this different realm of yours?’

Compassion flooded the Domina’s old face. She said gently, ‘You may, Josse. You may.’

‘And Meggie?’

‘Oh, don’t worry about her.’ The Domina glanced across at Meggie in her birch tree and her expression softened. ‘Meggie is extraordinary. She can see and speak to her mother whenever she wishes to. Listen.’

Josse did so and presently he heard the sound of Meggie’s light voice deep in conversation with an invisible companion. ‘That’s…? She’s talking to Joanna?’

‘Yes, I expect so,’ agreed the Domina.

Josse edged closer to Meggie and listened. ‘… and Josse’s house is really lovely because I have my own bed in my own room and, although I like our little hut in the forest too, I like being with Josse and I love the baby — he’s so sweet — and sometimes I…’

Josse had heard enough. Reeling, he turned back to the Domina.

But she had gone.

It was not easy to bring himself under control after such a succession of shocks, but Josse knew that for Meggie’s sake he must act normally and not show his dreadful fear. Swinging her down from her birch tree, he said brightly, ‘Come on, little one, the Domina’s gone now and it’s time to go back to the abbey.’

Meggie took his hand and they set off down the track. ‘She’s gone to find the others,’ Meggie said. ‘They’re all a bit worried because of what’s happening in the big new building and they need to reassure each other that it’ll be all right.’

God’s boots, Josse thought. Only six years old and she has the understanding of an adult. They walked along, Meggie now chattering happily about squirrels’ dreys and deer tracks, and Josse marvelled all over again at this extraordinary daughter of his. They always said she’d be one of their Great Ones, he thought. What he had learned in that brief time in the clearing indicated they were right.

They emerged from the forest just above the abbey, behind the spot where, had they known, Martin the mason wanted to build the new chapel. Suddenly Meggie gave a surprised cry and, pulling her hand from Josse’s, ran off to stand at the base of an oak tree. She was jumping up and down, trying to reach its lowest branch. ‘Josse, help me!’ she called, turning to look at him. ‘I can’t get up by myself.’

He hurried over to her. It was a huge tree and he was not at all sure that it would be safe for her to climb. She was fearless and would go right to the top if nobody stopped her. ‘It’s a very big tree, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘Why not try a smaller one?’

‘Oh!’ she exclaimed, becoming frustrated. ‘I don’t want to go high — only up to there.’ She pointed.

He followed the line of her finger and, resting at the place where a branch about two men’s height from the ground left the trunk, he saw a small bundle. ‘I’ll get it,’ he said.

‘I saw it first!’ Meggie protested.

‘I’ll get it,’ he repeated more firmly.

Meggie stuck out her lower lip. He swung up to the lowest branch, hauled himself up and put his foot on the branch above. Standing up and stretching, he got his fingers round the object. For a startled, disbelieving moment, he almost thought it sent a shock wave through him. Don’t be fanciful, he ordered himself. The object was wrapped in soft cloth. It felt hard and it was about the length of his forearm and the width of his two fists. Clutching it, he climbed carefully down again.

He kneeled and placed the object on the ground in front of him. Meggie was right beside him; he could feel her warm breath on his neck. ‘What is it, Daddy?’ she asked excitedly.

Daddy. His heart gave a great lurch.

The moment had taken on huge dimensions. Before him was a strange object that even his limited powers knew was so far out of the everyday and the ordinary that it was all but incredible, and his beloved daughter had for the very first time called him by the name to which he had always been entitled.

Slowly, reverently, he unfolded the cloth. He and Meggie, both shocked into awed silence, sat back and stared. It was a statue of a woman seated on a low, simple throne. She wore a mysterious headdress like a pair of horns, or perhaps the crescent moon on its side. Her eyes were closed, and her blissful, beautiful face wore an expression that was at the same time serene and powerful.

‘She is the Virgin Mary,’ Josse whispered, but something told him he was wrong.

‘No she’s not,’ Meggie whispered back. She put out her grubby little hand and gently touched the figure’s belly. Then she picked it up and put it in Josse’s hands.

Just then he realized what had troubled him. Meggie was right; this woman was not the Virgin. For one thing, unlike every representation of the mother of God that he had ever seen, this woman was heavily pregnant. In addition, whatever smooth, shining wood she was made from was also like nothing he had seen before.

It was black.

He had been holding his breath and now, noticing that his discomfort was rapidly growing, he let it out and tried to breathe in.

He couldn’t.

He tried again, but it was as if he were under a sudden enchantment. His ribs felt as if they were encased in steel and, panicking, he turned wide, horrified eyes on to his child. Perceiving his distress, she smiled and calmly took the black figure from him. Immediately air whooshed into his lungs and he gulped and gasped, his eyes watering. Then the dreadful thought struck him: dear God, if it — she — can do that to me, a strong man, what will she do to a little girl? He lunged towards Meggie, ready to strike the black figure from her hand, but Meggie, muttering softly under her breath and with a happy smile on her face, was nursing the statue as if it were nothing more dangerous than a doll.

Walking back to the abbey, Josse suggested to Meggie that they leave the figure in the safety of the abbess’s room. ‘People come and go freely at Hawkenlye,’ he explained, ‘and we would not want such a wonderful object to go missing, would we?’

His daughter turned her bright brown eyes up to him. ‘Nobody will steal her,’ she said confidently. ‘You know what she did to you.’ He did; it was all too vivid a memory. She must have seen the distress that briefly crossed his face, for she grasped his hand, gave it a quick squeeze and said, ‘You can hold her now and nothing will happen.’ She pushed the wrapped statue into his hands and reluctantly he took it, waiting for that paralyzing grip on his chest.

But it did not come.

‘She didn’t know who you were,’ Meggie said. ‘When you took her out of the tree and then when you held her, she did not know if you were all right or not. Now she does.’

Josse grinned. ‘She did not appear to have that dilemma with you,’ he remarked.

And Meggie said simply, ‘Of course not.’

They went in through the gates and Josse led the way to the abbess’s room. The door was ajar and, looking up, she smiled and beckoned them in.

Josse took a deep breath and, unwrapping the figure, prepared to explain to her what Meggie had found.

That evening, Josse went off to the vale to settle Meggie for the night in a cosy little bed beside his habitual place down in the monks’ quarters. He had asked Helewise if he might return when he had done so and she had instantly agreed. She could tell by his face that something had happened; something that he did not wish to discuss in front of his child.

He came into her room, closed the door, leaned back against it and then said, ‘The Domina says Joanna had to stay in Chartres. She-’ His face crumpled and tears filled his eyes. Brushing them away, he cleared his throat and went on. ‘I don’t understand, but the Domina seemed to be implying that what Joanna has to do may remove her into some other sort of existence and… and I may never see her again.’ Briefly he put his hand up to cover his eyes.

Helewise longed to rush over and comfort him. Longed to take this big, tough, brave man with the tender heart in her arms and pour out words of reassurance. Longed to say, I’m still here Josse and I love you!

But she was abbess of Hawkenlye. She stayed where she was in her chair.

When she felt she had given him enough time to control the emotion that threatened him, she said, ‘Is it certain that this will happen?’

His red-rimmed eyes met hers. ‘No. You know the Domina — like all her kind, she talks in riddles. All I could make out is that Joanna and the others have to give some of their own power so that what they are — what her people are — and what they believe in becomes fixed in the new cathedral. I don’t know. It sounded like a lot of nonsense.’

Helewise said after a moment, ‘I believe I perceive a little of what they are trying to do.’

‘I wish you’d explain it to me,’ he said, his grief making his voice harsh and cruel.

‘I’ll try.’ She swallowed nervously, for she knew how crucial this moment was. ‘Josse, did you not feel that the magnificent cathedral at Chartres is… well, just a little brash? It’s as if the rich people who are paying for it are determined to show off their wealth and their power, as if they want a permanent memorial — in the form of a window or a beautiful carving — so that, for all the years the building will stand, people will know their identity and how rich they were.’

He stared at her. ‘That’s what she said. She said — ’ he frowned as he tried to remember — ‘that the spirit had gone from the world.’

‘Yes. Yes, that’s it!’ Helewise said eagerly. ‘And — don’t you see, dear Josse? — her people recognize the spirit so clearly, for they are so close to the earth and to nature. Why, they don’t have any permanent buildings, do they?’

‘No,’ he agreed.

But she noticed that, after the brief period of animation, his face had fallen into sorrow once more. It was time for some bracing encouragement; she prayed for the strength to provide it. ‘Sir Josse,’ she said firmly, ‘we don’t know what will happen for certain over there in Chartres and, from what you have told me, it sounds as if the Domina was just preparing you for one possible outcome.’ He looked at her dubiously. ‘It may not come to pass.’

He shrugged. ‘I’ll have to wait and see,’ he said heavily.

‘Yes. Yes, you will.’ She searched frantically for something positive with which to encourage him. Then she had it. ‘You must keep your optimism,’ she said, ‘for Meggie’s sake if not your own.’

‘Meggie.’ He repeated the name in a whisper and it worked. His face lightened and, giving her a look that was almost shy, he said, ‘Today, she called me Daddy.’

Helewise was not sure she could trust her voice. She said softly, ‘That’s what you are, Josse.’

He stood mutely staring at her for a few moments. Then, shaking his head as if ridding himself of some thought that was unwelcome, he said, ‘What about that statue, then? Did you feel its force?’

She was very grateful for the change of subject. ‘Yes, indeed. Only when I first touched her, however. When I put my hand back on her a second time, it was as if… Oh, it sounds silly, but I felt she knew who I was and accepted me.’

‘Aye, I reckon that’s the way of it,’ he agreed. ‘Meggie says — ’ his face softened — ‘the figure has to decide if you’re all right or not.’

‘And presumably we are?’ Helewise suggested.

‘Aye.’

Well, that was good to know. ‘The statue is surely very valuable, Sir Josse. Would you like me to find a safe place for it?’

‘Aye, I would.’

She considered. ‘I’ve put it for the time being in the back of my book cupboard.’ She pointed to the recess let into the stone wall. ‘It’s wrapped in the cloth and hidden behind some account rolls.’

‘That sounds as safe a place as any,’ he said. ‘Does anyone come in when you’re not here?’

‘Hardly ever.’

‘Then let’s leave it there.’ He yawned, so overcome by all that had happened that he forgot to put his hand to his mouth.

‘Go to bed, Sir Josse,’ she said. ‘Things may seem brighter in the morning.’

He looked at her and she almost heard his thought: Will they? Then he gave her a cursory bow and left.

She allowed a few moments for him to go out of the rear gate. Then she got up, made her way over to the deserted church and, sinking to her knees in front of the altar, began to pray for him.