Ashes of the Elements

Chapter Nine

Josse returned to the Abbey to find, for all that it was after midnight, the community still awake, with torches blazing in the courtyard and lighting the shadows of the cloisters.

After the frightening darkness deep within the trees, it was a blessed relief.

He found the Abbess in her room, with the door open; it was, he thought briefly as the impression hit him, as if, in that night of anxiety and disturbance, she wanted her nuns to feel that she was close by. Accessible.

She got up as he came into the room.

‘Abbess, I haven’t found her,’ he began, ‘but I think-’

At the same moment, she said, her face full of joy, ‘She’s here! Sister Caliste has come back, and she is quite safe! Quite unharmed!’

‘Thank God,’ he said quietly.

‘Amen,’ the Abbess echoed, then hurried on, ‘Sir Josse, would you credit it! She’s dreadfully sorry to have caused us all this worry and trouble, she says, but she went for a little walk under the trees and forgot the time! Dear me, did you ever hear such a silly idea?’

‘She forgot the time,’ Josse repeated. He didn’t want to admit it to the Abbess, but, knowing the forest now rather better than she did, in fact he could see all too clearly how such a thing could happen. ‘Where is she?’ he asked, turning his thoughts with an effort away from the mystical spell of the forest and on to more urgent matters. ‘You say she is not hurt, but has she taken a chill?’

‘She’s fine.’ Abbess Helewise’s relief was evident in her wide smile. ‘She is on her knees in the Abbey church. She is full of remorse, as I said, and praying for God’s forgiveness for having upset all her sisters so badly.’

Sisters. That reminded him. ‘Abbess, this may sound a strange question, but do you know where Esyllt is?’

‘Esyllt?’ Clearly, it did sound a strange question. ‘She sleeps in a little dormitory in the aged monks’ and nuns’ home,’ the Abbess said, frowning. ‘Often they need attention during the night, you see. I’m quite sure that’s where she is.’ Eyes turning to Josse, she demanded, ‘Why?’

‘Could you send someone to check?’ he urged. ‘Abbess, I wouldn’t ask if it were not important!’

She seemed to recover herself. ‘No, of course you wouldn’t. Wait here, I’ll go myself.’

He waited. Sank down on the wooden stool, leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.

A little later, she came back. One look at her face told him he’d been right.

‘Not there?’ he asked.

‘Not there.’ The frown was back, deeper than before. ‘Do you know where she is, Sir Josse?’

‘Where she is now? No, not exactly. But I have an idea where she went earlier.’ Briefly he outlined to the Abbess the idea he’d had when he was setting off into the forest.

The Abbess was nodding slowly. ‘It seems you were right,’ she said. ‘But why? Why should Esyllt make secret visits into the forest? And at night!’

‘They would have to be at night, if they were to be secret,’ he pointed out. And, even though she’d gone at night, she hadn’t managed to keep it secret from him; he’d seen her returning, yesterday morning.

‘Quite, quite,’ Helewise was saying impatiently. ‘But for what purpose? And why should Sister Caliste know about it, whatever it was, and be prompted to follow her?’

‘Abbess, there’s something else,’ Josse said. ‘Something which, unless I’m very much mistaken, is more dreadful than a young woman going off into the forest at night.’

A sudden terrible thought struck him. Caliste was safely back within the Abbey walls, but Esyllt wasn’t.

Oh, God, what if that appalling, long drawn-out scream of agony had been hers?

What if it was she who now lay insensate in the forest, hidden in some place off the main track?

‘What? Josse, what?’ The Abbess was shaking him. ‘Tell me! Dear God, but you’ve gone ashen!’

He stood up. ‘Abbess, when I was still deep in the forest, I heard a dreadful cry. I’m very much afraid that the killer has struck again. And that-’

‘Esyllt!’ Now she, too, was ashen. ‘Oh, no! Oh, sweet Jesus, no! Not-’

‘There were others abroad!’ he said, grabbing her by her hands. ‘I fear there’s no doubt but that there’s been another attack, but, Abbess, it is by no means certain that the victim must be Esyllt!’

She was staring at him wide-eyed. ‘We must go and look!’ she cried. ‘Whoever the victim is, we must search for them. Now! All of us!’

And, before he could even try to stop her, she had rushed out of the room, skirts of her habit flying, calling out to her senior nuns. Very soon afterwards, she had made her arrangements; efficient even in such a frightful crisis, she had organised and dispatched the search parties more quickly than Josse would have thought possible.

He waited for her to come back and tell him what she wanted of him, and at last she returned to her room. Wiping sweat from her brow — the night was close — she said, ‘Sir Josse, will you come out and search with me?’

Making her a bow, he said, ‘Gladly I will.’

* * *

Marching off into the forest, Abbess Helewise was more glad than she would have admitted to have Josse’s steady tread at her side. And she had made sure that Sister Euphemia, Sister Basilia and Sister Martha also had strong men with them in their search parties; moreover, every man of them armed with stout staves. Few of the lay brothers, she reflected, would have much sleep this night.

The darkness under the trees was more profound than she had expected. But then, the night was wearing on, and the moon no longer so high in the sky. Full moon, she mused. Full moon again, and now a second murder.

To take her mind off her fears over who the victim was, she said to Josse, ‘Sir Josse, do you realise that-’

But she never asked her question. For at that moment, flying towards them with her skirts raised high around her bare thighs, blood on her outstretched hands, on her chin and on her gown, hair awry and face as pale as death, came Esyllt.

Seeing them, she screamed, ‘He’s dead! And there’s so much blood!’

Then she rushed into Helewise’s arms.

In the first few seconds, Helewise could do nothing but hold the girl tightly against her breast, cradling her, quieting the harsh sound of her sobbing.

‘Hush, child,’ she murmured, dropping a kiss on the wild hair, ‘you’re safe now. We won’t let any harm come to you.’

Esyllt pulled away from her, craning round to look back over her shoulder down the path along which she had just come.

‘He’s in there,’ she said, with a shudder. ‘Way back there. Lying deep in the underbrush, and he’s dead, I’m sure he’s dead, he must be dead!’ She was rapidly losing control again.

Josse said gently, ‘Who is dead, Esyllt?’

She spun round to look at him, staring at him wide-eyed as if she did not recognise him. But then a shadow of her usual smile touched her lips. ‘Sir Knight,’ she said. ‘Are you going to come and see my old dearies?’

‘Soon,’ Josse said. ‘I promise.’

She nodded. ‘Good. They’ll like that.’ Then, as if awareness of her present distress, momentarily put aside, had come flooding back, her face crumpled and she whispered something.

‘What was that?’ Helewise asked, rather too sharply.

Esyllt shook her head, tears flowing down her face. ‘Nothing,’ she muttered.

‘Esyllt,’ Helewise persisted, ‘something terrible has happened, and, for the moment, our Christian duty is to find this poor man who has been attacked and do what we can for him.’

‘You can’t do anything, he’s dead, I keep telling you, dead, dead!’ Esyllt moaned. A great shiver went through her, and her sobbing began again. ‘And, oh, God, it’s so awful! I — he — you see, we…’

‘Then we must take him back to the Abbey for decent burial,’ Helewise replied implacably, cutting off whatever Esyllt had been trying to say. ‘Then — and only then — will we set about trying to discover what lies behind all this.’ She gave the girl a gentle shake. ‘Do you understand, Esyllt? You are in no condition to be questioned now, but we will be doing so when you have recovered yourself.’

Helewise wondered if Josse would realise what she was trying to do. Wondered, too, if he had noticed what Helewise had seen, when Esyllt had first rushed out of the trees towards them. No, she told herself. Don’t think about that now. Time enough to get to the bottom of that later, when they were safely back inside the Abbey walls.

By speaking firmly to the girl — in effect, shutting her up — the Abbess was hoping to make sure that, in her shock and confusion, Esyllt didn’t blurt out something she would later regret.

There was always the danger that, if she spoke up now, she might somehow incriminate herself. And the one thing Helewise was quite sure about was that, whatever else she might have done, Esyllt was no murderer.

Josse must have been sure, too. For he said, ‘No, Esyllt, no more questions for now. We shall call out and attract the attention of one of the other search parties. Then you will be taken back to the Abbey, where they will look after you. Just tell me where to find the victim, then you can go into the warmth and the light, wash, change your clothes, then sleep until you feel better.’

Esyllt’s eyes were fixed on him as he spoke, and, when he had finished, she smiled at him. ‘You have a kind heart, Sir Knight,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t he, Abbess Helewise?’

‘Indeed,’ Helewise agreed.

‘May I do that?’ Esyllt asked her. She was, it appeared, sufficiently herself to remember that it was Helewise, not Josse, who ordered her actions.

‘You may,’ Helewise said.

Josse had trotted off down the main track, calling out as he went. Presently he had an answer, and, shortly after that, Brother Saul, Sister Euphemia and the other two lay brothers in their group came into sight.

When they had finished exclaiming and offering up thanks over Esyllt’s having been found alive and safe, Sister Euphemia put her arm round the girl and the group set off with her back towards the Abbey.

‘Brother Saul?’ Josse called after him.

He stopped. ‘Sir Josse?’

‘We have an unpleasant duty to perform,’ Josse said. He shot a look at Helewise, who had a good idea what was coming. ‘Esyllt has told us where to find the man who was attacked,’ Josse went on, ‘and I wonder, Brother Saul, if you would come with me, so that the Abbess can go back to-’

Yes. It was exactly what Helewise had expected. ‘Sir Josse,’ she interrupted, ‘I am leading this expedition, and I shall not return to the Abbey until we have accomplished what we set out to do.’ She added, dropping her voice so that Brother Saul would not hear, ‘And I’ll thank you to remember that it is I, not you, who is in command here!’

He looked suitably reprimanded, and for a brief moment she felt a rich satisfaction. Then she thought, but he was trying to help! Trying to spare me a possibly — no, a definitely — terrible sight. I should not have bitten his head off for that impulse to charity.

‘I am sorry,’ she whispered.

But Josse was already turning to set off down the path, and she didn’t think he had heard.

* * *

The moon had set now, and they had to use the flares which had been hastily prepared before the search parties had set out. Even so, it took a long time to find him.

Esyllt had left quite a clear path for them to follow wherever she had pushed her way through undergrowth; there, it was a relatively easy matter to find the broken twigs and branches, the flattened bracken, that marked her flying feet. But, when she had run across clearings, they had to spend many minutes looking for the point at which she had entered the open space.

It was Brother Saul who first spotted him.

‘Sir Josse!’ he called, his voice strangely uncertain. He, too, thinks to spare me, Helewise thought swiftly, rushing ahead, since he only calls Sir Josse.

She and Josse arrived at the scene together.

And the three of them stared down at the dead man.

He was dead, there could be no doubt — nobody could lose so much blood and still live. Besides, there were savage, deep cuts to his neck and chest, and another that ran right through his left eye. Any one of those cuts could have penetrated to brain, or heart, or lung, bringing inevitable death.

Helewise realised slowly that she was very cold. Her teeth were chattering, and her fingers felt numb. She tucked her hands into her sleeves.

She became aware that Brother Saul had turned aside and was vomiting into the undergrowth.

She felt Josse’s hand touch her arm. Tentatively. Then he said, in a matter-of-fact voice that did a great deal to bring her back into control — and stop her taking the same route as Brother Saul — ‘No wonder the girl had so much blood on her. I would think, wouldn’t you, Abbess, that she must have knelt down to look at him, and the blood seeped into her skirt?’

Helewise swallowed. ‘Er — yes, indeed, Sir Josse. Perhaps, in the darkness, the extent of his wounds was not as apparent as it is now, to us, and she felt compelled to see how badly hurt he was.’ Oh, the thought of it! That poor, poor girl, kneeling down, feeling the warm wetness seep into her gown, through to the flesh of her legs! Then putting out her hands to touch him, and coming across those dreadful cuts. ‘She — er, she must have known immediately that he was dead.’

‘Hmm,’ Josse said reflectively. He, too, was kneeling down now, but being more careful than Esyllt and avoiding the worst of the blood-pool. He held the torch just above the body. ‘Aaah.’

‘You know who he is,’ Helewise said. ‘Don’t you?’

‘Aye. His name was Ewen. He was one of Hamm Robinson’s poaching and thieving gang.’

‘You are sure of that?’

‘Aye.’ He hesitated, bending to look more closely at the wounds on the chest. Then added, ‘I saw him earlier. He and Hamm’s cousin had gone back to the place where they were digging up treasure.’

Treasure, Helewise thought vaguely. Men digging for it. Whom Josse must have been watching, at some previous point in this interminable night, when he had been about business of a very different sort.

What was that, now? She wondered why it was suddenly so difficult to remember. Why had Josse gone into the forest?

Caliste. Yes, of course, he’d been looking for Sister Caliste.

Suddenly it all seemed a lot to take in. Helewise felt her head swim, and, stepping back from the corpse and the stink of blood, she leant back against the smooth trunk of a beech tree. She took several deep breaths, then, hopefully before either Josse or Brother Saul had noticed her momentary weakness, she said, ‘We must get him back to the Abbey. And, I think, Sir Josse, I must notify Sheriff Pelham that there has been another murder.’

* * *

Josse and Brother Saul carried the corpse out of the forest between them. It was not a pleasant task, especially as, with dawn now well advanced, there was sufficient light, even under the trees, to see the dead man all too clearly.

The Abbess, Josse noticed, had not, as she might have done, suggested that she hurry on ahead to notify the sisters at the Abbey of what they must prepare themselves to receive. Instead, she paced along beside the corpse, her rosary beads in her hands, her lips moving in silent prayers.

Ah, but she was a determined woman! Josse thought, partly in admiration, partly in frustration. There had been no need for her to subject herself to this horror, not when he and Saul had been there, ready and willing to go and look for the body on their own!

Still, as she had been at pains to point out, she was in command here. And, like a good commander, she didn’t make her troops do anything she wasn’t prepared to do herself.

‘Stubborn woman,’ Josse muttered under his breath.

The Abbess, quietly intoning her prayers, didn’t hear. But Brother Saul, walking ahead of Josse and bearing the dead man’s feet, turned and gave Josse a very fleeting grin.

* * *

They laid him in the crypt, a chilly, stone-walled chamber beneath the Abbey church. Its floor space was broken up by the massive stone pillars that supported the incalculable weight above; it was a dank and gloomy place.

This was not the first time it had housed the recently dead.

In the more adequate light of several torches, Josse confirmed what he had already suspected concerning Ewen’s manner of death.

Then, while Sisters Euphemia and Beata went about the ghastly task of preparing the corpse for burial, Josse went up to the Abbess’s room to await the arrival of the sheriff.

* * *

‘Did he have relatives?’ Josse asked the Abbess, resuming his seat on the wooden stool.

‘Hm?’ She turned to him, and briefly he wondered what she had been thinking about that he had just interrupted. ‘Relatives? Ewen Asher? I believe … He lived alone, I think. He used to board with his widowed mother, if indeed this is that same man. But she died last year. He had no wife and no children, as far as I know.’

‘That’s as well, now,’ Josse remarked.

There was a short reflective silence. Then the Abbess said, ‘Was he, too, killed by the Forest People?’

‘No,’ Josse said instantly.

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Because — well, I won’t go into that.’

‘But-’

He went on, determinedly ignoring her interruption, ‘I’ve been thinking, Abbess, that the most likely killer is Seth, since, on the face of it, he’s the only person with anything to gain by Ewen’s death.’

‘A larger share of whatever it is they’ve discovered in the forest, you mean.’

‘Aye. In fact, with both Hamm and Ewen dead, Seth can have the lot. Only…’ His brows came together in a fierce frown.

‘Only what?’

‘Only that’s not right, either.’

‘What do you mean?’

Josse raised his head. Meeting her eyes, he said, ‘Unlikely as it seems, Abbess, there must have been a third party out in the forest last night. Besides the poachers and Esyllt, I mean. Well, in fact a fourth party, if you count me. And, since neither the Forest People, Seth nor I slaughtered Ewen, and we must surely agree that Esyllt didn’t either, then we can only conclude that it was this mysterious fourth party who did.’