Ashes of the Elements

Chapter Fourteen

‘You propose we do what?’

Josse could hardly believe it. Was the Abbess Helewise sick? Had she suffered some strange aberration? He stared at her, trying to detect any sign of it, but she looked pretty much as usual. A slight frown seemed to have settled between the wide grey eyes, but, other than that, she appeared calm and in control.

‘I intend to go into the forest tonight,’ she said, ‘and, as I just suggested, I think it would be a good idea for you to accompany me.’ Her eyes rested on his and, briefly, she gave the shadow of a smile. ‘If, that is, you are prepared to, Sir Josse, given its recent violent history. I should, of course, quite understand if you refuse, and I-’

‘I haven’t refused!’ He thumped his fist against the wall of her room with suppressed anger. Great God, but she was leaping ahead of herself here! ‘Of course I won’t let you go alone, Abbess, but-’

‘Oh, good,’ she said mildly.

‘What’s good?’

She turned an innocent face up to his. ‘That you’ve agreed to come with me, of course!’

‘Abbess, just wait a moment!’ He tried to think rapidly, tried to work out how best to put his huge disapproval into words that might have a chance of stopping her in this folly.

Moving across the room and standing with his hands resting on her table, he said, ‘Abbess Helewise, there is great peril in the forest. Two men have been killed there, and, for all that Sheriff Pelham believes he has one murderer safely under lock and key, there is still the matter of the first death!’

‘I am aware of that,’ she said, with a new coolness in her voice. ‘However, I-’

‘And yet you’re telling me that, despite all that, the two of us are going to sally out into the forest tonight!’ he exploded. ‘For what purpose, pray? To have a good nose around and see how long it takes for us to get a spear in our backs?’

‘You did not listen when I used that same argument to try to prevent you from going into the forest a few weeks ago,’ she observed. ‘You said, if I recall, that, since you would be armed and on the look out, you would be perfectly safe.’

‘And I was!’ he replied heatedly.

‘So why will you not be as safe now?’ she demanded.

‘Because-’

He stopped. Yes, of course. This was the crux of it. And, having realised it already, this was, naturally, why she was being so belligerent.

‘I would be as safe,’ he said, after a pause. ‘But I am not prepared to risk your wellbeing.’

‘It is not up to you to make that decision,’ she said coolly. ‘As Abbess of Hawkenlye, I am in charge of my nuns and my lay servants. Two of my women are suffering, and suffering deeply, and it is my duty to do all that I can to alleviate their distress.’

‘By making some ill-prepared and reckless venture into the forest by night?’ he shouted.

‘Yes!’ she shouted back. ‘Do you not see, the forest holds the key to all this?’

He wasn’t at all sure that it did. And, even if she was right, he had to stop her in this wild idea. Good Lord, it was impossible! ‘It will not help your young women for you to be killed!’ he cried.

‘I have absolutely no intention of being killed,’ she said. ‘Why should anyone kill me, in any case?’

‘They killed Hamm Robinson.’ He could not help the righteousness in his voice.

She gave a sigh of exasperation. ‘Hamm Robinson was different!’

‘Why, pray?’

‘He-’ She stopped. Then, in a more placatory tone, ‘Come with me tonight, Sir Josse, and I will show you!’

Come with me! Dear God, but she was determined! If he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself left in the safety of Hawkenlye Abbey tonight while she went off by herself into the forest.

‘Is there nothing I can say that will dissuade you?’ he asked quietly.

‘Nothing.’

He ran his hands over his face. ‘Very well, then.’

‘You will come with me?’ She sounded as if she could hardly believe it.

He removed his hands and looked at her. ‘Aye.’

He wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought he saw her relax briefly in her relief.

* * *

Helewise had thought he would not give up without one last attempt to dissuade her, and she was right. He kept his peace as they ate the evening meal — her conscience hadn’t troubled her over ordering good portions of the braised hare with vegetables for Josse and herself, bearing in mind the night’s work that lay ahead for them — and, as they drank a fortifying cup of wine back in the privacy of her room, he had managed to restrict himself to the sort of remarks habitually made to one another by courteous strangers meeting on the road.

She excused herself and went across to the Abbey church for Compline, making a great effort to empty her mind of all thoughts of the forthcoming adventure. In the powerful atmosphere of the church in the late evening, she felt a sudden flow of courage come coursing through her; had she not already firmly made up her mind that what she was doing was the right thing, this sign of almighty approval would surely have convinced her.

‘In Thy wisdom, Thou hast put these troubled women in my care, oh, Lord,’ she prayed softly. ‘Dear Lord, let me not fail them now.’ After a moment’s pause, she added, ‘Let me not fail Thee.’

Returning to Josse some time later, she found he had come out into the cloister to wait for her. And, as she approached, he was already saying the words he must have been rehearsing: ‘Abbess, won’t you please reconsider?’

She let him make a brave start, then gently put up a hand to silence him. ‘Sir Josse,’ she said quietly, ‘this is pointless.’

‘But-’

He was glaring down at her, face close to hers. As if, at long last, he read her determination in her eyes, he gave a faint shrug. ‘Very well,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I wash my hands of you.’

‘Oh, no, Sir Josse,’ she replied. ‘That you certainly do not do.’ She added, aware that she was teasing him, ‘If you must add a homily, what about, on your own head be it?’

His only reply was a grunt.

* * *

He had, she observed, been busy while she had been at Compline. He had filled a pack with a couple of blankets, some bread and some water, and, down in the bottom of the pack, was a wrapped object that she thought looked very like a small weapon; a dagger, perhaps. She stared at it for a second or two. But now, she appreciated, was not the moment to remind him of the rule about not bringing arms into the Abbey.

‘You are warmly clad?’ he demanded as, with the darkness now absolute and the full moon just rising, at last they set out. ‘The air is still warm now, but the night will be cold later.’

‘I am indeed,’ she said. She had had the same thought, and had taken the time to visit her cubicle and put on a warm woollen chemise beneath her habit.

He nodded.

They left the Abbey by the main gate. The forest, into whose strange and mysterious depths they would soon be tentatively walking, loomed up ahead. Helewise noticed Josse slip into the Porteress’s lodge, now empty; when he returned, his heavy sword hung in its scabbard at his left side.

Even more than the dagger hidden in the pack, the sight of it gave her a shudder of fear.

* * *

He seemed to know the way.

Following close behind him — a good place to be, since, apart from anything else, it meant that, with his back to her, she was free to hitch up her skirts and still retain her modesty — she was quickly impressed by how familiar he was with the tracks and the paths of the Great Forest.

The moon was now well risen, and gave sufficient light for the journey to be fairly comfortable; this expedition would, she thought as she carefully took from Josse’s hand a wicked length of bramble whose thorns could have sliced open a cheek, have been an impossibility on a dark or cloudy night. It was wonderful how one’s eyes adjusted, she reflected, because, whereas on first leaving the Abbey, she had been able to make out only vague shapes, now she was seeing details. That little animal run going off into the undergrowth, for example, and that huge beech tree with its tangle of roots half-exposed on the bank, and-

Josse had stopped without warning, and she walked into him.

‘Sorry!’ she said, ‘But-’

‘Hush!’ He glanced at her, looking slightly apologetic for having silenced her so unceremoniously.

‘It’s all right.’ She, too, pitched her voice low. ‘What is it?’

He was standing quite still, turning his head slowly first this way, then that. She waited. After some moments, he shrugged faintly and said, ‘I don’t know. Probably nothing. Shall we go on?’

‘Yes.’

It was apparent to her that he was moving more cautiously now, although he had hardly been reckless or noisy before. He paused frequently, repeating his head-turning, and she realised he was listening.

For what?

Oh, dear Lord, not for that singing! Please, no!

She clutched at the wooden cross that hung around her neck, momentarily terrified.

But then a calm voice inside her head said, and what did you expect? You have heard the chanting, and you know it came from this forest. Is it not more than likely that you are about to hear it again?

She took a deep breath, then another.

It worked. She was still terrified, but at least she felt in control of herself.

Fleetingly she wondered, as she set off once more after Josse, if he was wearing his talisman. Somehow, she thought he probably was.

* * *

They were now deep in the forest. They had come, she reckoned, some two miles or more. Probably more; it was hard to tell, with the frequent stopping, but when they had been moving, they had walked swiftly. Despite everything, a part of her had been revelling in the sheer pleasure of hard physical exercise. It must, she thought, be years since she’d marched along like this, breathing deeply, arms swinging, legs striding out. Nuns in a convent just didn’t walk like that.

It reminds me, she reflected happily, of outings with dear old Ivo.

Her late husband had liked to walk hard, too. Often, when the demands of their busy life had relented for a few hours, the two of them had set out and-

‘Listen!’ said Josse’s soft voice, right beside her.

‘What?’

He had stopped again, at what appeared to be the end of a long and winding little path deep within the trees; they had been following its rather well-concealed course for some time. He drew her back into the moon shadow of a great oak, and, mouth to her ear, said, ‘Can you hear it too, or am I imagining it?’

She held her breath, and, trying to shut out the sounds of Josse beside her, listened.

At first, nothing. The wind in the treetops, high overhead, and a faint distant rustling, quickly curtailed, as if some small animal had been running for safety and had made it to its burrow.

She was just beginning to shake her head in denial when she heard it.

Just a short snatch, which could have been the dancing leaves up above. But then it came again. The same phrase was repeated, again and then once more, each time with a fraction more volume.

And then, in some macabre and premature parody of the dawn chorus, still many hours away, other throats took up the sound. The original phrase echoed again, but extended now, elaborate, involved, turning back on itself and going higher, higher, so high as almost to leave the range of human hearing, only to dive down into a deep, thrumming baritone that throbbed like a distant drum.

Then it stopped.

Helewise felt the sweat of fear run down her back, accompanied by a great shudder that seemed to make her hair crawl on her scalp. In atavistic dread, she wanted to crouch on the ground, curl herself up small, creep away into some dark little niche where she would be safe, where they could not find her. But, just as the urge to hide became all but irresistible, Josse leaned close and said quietly, ‘Abbess, it seems you were right after all, and the answers to all our questions may be just ahead of us.’

She managed to say, in something like her usual tones, ‘Indeed.’

Had he known? Had he picked up her huge fear, and, wanting to help her master it, spoken thus to her?

It was his having called her by her title that did it, she thought, feeling strength returning with each second. It had, in that moment of weakness, reminded her of who and what she was. Of her responsibilities. And, even more important, reminded her what she was doing there in the middle of the forest when she ought to be safe in her bed.

Answers must be found, she told herself firmly. And Sir Josse and I shall find them.

She whispered, ‘What should we do now?’

Turning from his intense concentration on the open space that lay ahead, he whispered back, ‘We are close to the grove where the two fallen oak trees lie, where Hamm discovered the treasure. It is, I believe, of some importance in the forest, and I think we should try to get closer.’

‘Very well. I was going to tell you, I-’ But now was not the moment, and in answer to his eyebrows raised in enquiry, she shook her head.

He hitched the pack higher on his back, and was about to set forth when he hesitated. With a quick look back to her, he said, ‘They — whoever they may be — could be in the oak grove. We must be absolutely silent.’

She smiled in the darkness, and said, ‘I realise that. I’ll be as quiet as the grave.’

Only as she began to creep after him did she wish she had used any other word but ‘grave’.

* * *

The next mile seemed terribly slow. Copying him, she trod carefully, trying each footstep before committing herself to it, making sure no cracking twig gave them away. It was nerve-racking.

At last, he stopped once more. Again, they were on the edge of an open space, but this time it was a much wider one. And, peering round the comforting bulk of Josse’s shoulder, Helewise could see two vast felled oak trees lying across the short turf.

But, apart from the trees, the grove was empty.

Josse was moving forward, peering into the shadows that encircled the moonlit space. Suddenly he gave a soft exclamation, and, as he came back to her, she saw that he was grinning.

‘They’re ahead of us,’ he said softly, when he was right beside her again. ‘In another clearing, through there.’ He pointed.

She looked, but could see nothing. ‘Where?’

He took hold of her shoulders and pushed her gently towards the open space. ‘Go to where the trees thin out, and look to your left,’ he ordered.

She did as he said. And, staring into the darkness of an apparently impenetrable thicket of old trees, younger trees and dense, scrubby undergrowth, she saw what he had seen.

A light.

Faint, as if a single candle had been lit, or perhaps a small and carefully contained fire. But, in the deserted blackness, a strange sight.

She was about to return to him, ask what he thought should be their next move, when something caught her eye.

That light … It was as if, just for a split-second, it had been extinguished, then, just as quickly, relit. Watching, straining her eyes, it happened again.

What was it? Could it be-

Then she knew.

The blinking-out effect had an obvious cause, when you stopped to think about it. A cause that explained, too, why it went on happening.

Somebody was moving between Helewise and the source of the light.

Out in that hidden grove, there were other beings abroad in the forest.

For all that she had known they must be out there — what else, indeed, was the purpose of this whole enterprise but to find them? — still, the sight of human movement, so close by, set her heart thumping.

The fear came flooding back, with the speed and the unremitting force of the tide over flat sands. And Helewise, forgetting all about being quiet, raced the few paces back to Josse’s side as if she herself were in danger of inundation.