Faithful Dead

15

The Abbess was preparing to see Josse and Yves on their way the next day when, for the second time, their mission was thwarted, this time before they had even left Hawkenlye.

Sister Ursel, the porteress, was standing at the gate, all ready to form part of the valedictory guard, when, hearing the sound of hooves, she turned to look down the road.

‘There’s a band of horsemen approaching,’ she reported to Helewise. ‘Twelve, fourteen of them at least.’

Helewise went over to where Josse was about to mount up. ‘Sir Josse? Can it be that we are about to receive another visit from Sheriff Pelham?’

‘Not if there are fourteen men mounted in the group,’ he replied. ‘I once saw Pelham astride a tired old cob, but I doubt that his men have mounts.’

She walked to stand beside Sister Ursel. ‘They are well mounted,’ she said, as the company drew nearer. ‘Well dressed, too.’

She sensed Josse at her side. Looking down the track, he said neutrally, ‘If you have a fatted calf, my lady, I suggest you order it killed straight away. The Abbey is about to receive a visit from Prince John.’

The Prince was travelling with what, for him, was a small retinue. Nevertheless, Helewise experienced several moments of alarm — and one or two of downright panic — as she set about organising her nuns to cater for a royal visitor and fifteen courtiers.

Observing the reaction of the sisters as the news spread swiftly through the Abbey, she knew that, above all, she must retain a serene demeanour, and act as if visits from princes were all in a day’s work. My nuns will look to me, she told herself as she tried to listen to two sisters talking at once, one reporting on stocks of the good wine, one saying anxiously that the refectory roof had developed a leak and was the Abbess quite sure it was all right to entertain the Prince in there? Then, like a blessing, she had a sudden image of Queen Eleanor, who was a frequent visitor to Hawkenlye and who neither expected nor wanted any fuss made of her.

We do not entertain Prince John’s mother so lavishly that we have to be on short rations for weeks, she reminded herself. Nor would the Queen dream of complaining if a drip or two of autumn rain found its way through the roof and landed in her soup. Why, then, should we do more for her son?

Turning to the cellarer, she said, ‘Sister Goodeth, you may draw one jug of the good wine, for the Prince and his immediate circle. Otherwise, serve the wine that we drink.’

Sister Goodeth’s mouth opened in a ‘But-’ Then, looking at her Abbess’s resolute expression, she bowed her head and said meekly, ‘Yes, my lady.’

‘And, Sister Anne, we shall organise a repair of the refectory roof when Brother Saul and Brother Erse can spare the time. For now, Prince John and his men will have to take us as they find us.’

Sister Anne’s round eyes were fixed on Helewise as she spoke; Helewise had the sudden unsettling notion that Anne was memorising her words to repeat them to the rest of the kitchen staff.

Ah, well. There was nothing she could do about that.

As she left the refectory, Josse materialised at her side. ‘Abbess Helewise, what can I do to help?’

She turned to him gratefully and, as she had done so many times before, offered up a swift and silent prayer of thanks for his strength and his reliability. ‘We need time to prepare a meal. Would you care to entertain them while we do so?’

Josse grinned. ‘Gladly. Yves and I will take them down to the Vale, and Brother Firmin can show them the Holy Water shrine. By the time he’s finished telling them every last detail and fact, you and the good sisters could have a week’s worth of food prepared.’

‘I sincerely hope it will not come to that.’

He leaned towards her and said quietly, ‘It will not. I think we know why he is here, and the sooner he finds out what he wants to know, the sooner he’ll be gone.’

Watching him as he strode away, calling out to Yves, who hurried to his side, she hoped he was right.

The hastily prepared meal, if not a feast, was adequate. Prince John thanked the Abbess and her nuns in a rather flowery speech — Helewise observed Sister Anne watching him intently, no doubt recording every word of that utterance, too — and one or two of the younger and more impressionable of the novices, affected by his looks and his charm, simpered with delight.

He was a handsome man, Helewise had to admit. Nevertheless, charming and handsome though he might be, she was heartily relieved when, drawing her aside for a private word, he said that he would not dream of imposing his company on her further and was therefore dispatching the majority of his companions off to where they lodged, with one of his knights whose manor was nearby.

‘As you wish, Sire,’ she replied.

‘But I would stay on, my lady, if it does not inconvenience you.’ The blue eyes bored into hers.

‘Of course not,’ she said quickly. ‘I will arrange quarters for you.’

‘No need for that.’ Now the smile spread across his handsome face. ‘I note that Sir Josse and his brother lodge with the monks in the Vale, and that will be quite good enough for us.’

Wondering if ‘us’ was a sudden use of the royal ‘we’ or denoted a party consisting of more than the one person, she said, ‘We?’

‘The Magister will remain with me, as will two of my knights.’ ‘Very well, Sire.’ She made him a graceful bow and, noticing as she straightened up that he was already walking away, presumed herself dismissed.

You could not, Helewise realised, raise an item for discussion with a Prince; you just had to wait, biting your nails with impatience, until you were summoned to the presence and the matter was introduced by him.

Finding a quiet moment to speak to Josse, she found that he was as tense as she was. ‘He probably enjoys seeing us stew,’ he growled. ‘What’s he up to? He must be aware that we know as well as he does why he’s here. Why doesn’t just he get on with it?’

‘He will,’ she said soothingly. ‘In the meantime, why not come and pray with us?’

To her faint surprise, he did.

They received word in the late evening that the Prince wished to speak with them. The Prince, who had been offered the use of the Abbess’s private room and instantly accepted, had installed himself in Helewise’s chair. As Helewise and Josse entered the room — only the two of them, it appeared, had been summoned — the Prince sat at his ease, John Dee positioned at his shoulder.

Standing side by side with Josse, Helewise found she was holding her breath.

Don’t be absurd, she told herself firmly. He is but a man, like any other. Being born royal does not turn a man into a god.

She lifted her chin and looked the Prince right in the face.

She saw a faint smile cross his face. Then, turning to Josse, he said, ‘We discommode the lady Abbess by our presence, and so I will come to the point of our visit straight away.’

Since he spoke the truth, she did not contradict him.

He noticed that, as well; there was a definite edge of amusement to his voice as he went on, ‘Sir Josse, when last we met, I asked you if you had come across a man named Galbertius Sidonius. A few days later, you came to seek out the Magister here’ — he indicated John Dee — ‘who reported to me that you wanted to discover if a dead man found here at Hawkenlye could be the man we seek. It was decided that he could not be, since the dead man was younger than Sidonius.’

He paused. Josse, apparently thinking he was expected to respond, said, ‘Aye, Sire. All of that is so.’

The Prince stared at him. Eventually he said, ‘You see, Sir Josse, the problem is this. We are no nearer to finding Sidonius, and you are still our only lead.’

‘But I don’t — that is, I have never met the man!’ Josse protested. ‘Why, Sire, are you so certain that I can help you?’

The Prince, who had been relaxing in his seat and idly inspecting the nails of his right hand as if finding the whole business impossibly tedious, suddenly shot upright, turned the lazy hand into a fist and banged it down hard on the arm of the chair. ‘Because you know exactly who he is and why he will come seeking you out!’ he cried. Eyes blazing, he added in a tone that could have frozen wine, ‘Do not play with me, d’Acquin.’

Helewise sensed Josse’s reaction. Far from being frightened into submission, he was, she knew quite well, almost as furious as the Prince.

‘I have a suspicion that I do know the identity of this Galbertius Sidonius,’ he said, his voice tightly under control. ‘And, although a suspicion is not a certainty, nevertheless I was on the point of setting out to find you, Sire, to tell you what I know, when your party arrived this morning. As the Abbess Helewise here will verify, and she does not lie.’

‘I am glad to hear it,’ the Prince murmured. ‘And so? Tell me, if you please, what tidings you were bringing me.’

But, to Helewise’s surprise and admiration, Josse stood his ground. ‘I will, Sire, but may I have leave to ask a question, too?’

She thought the Prince might flare up in a rage. But instead he gave a bark of laughter and said, ‘Very well. But you must answer me first.’

‘We believe Sidonius to be a man who fought and travelled with my late father, Geoffroi d’Acquin,’ Josse began. ‘My father knew him as the Lombard, and they were good friends. Or so my father believed. The Lombard returned to Acquin with my father when they came back from Outremer and, when he finally set off for his own home, stole a precious object from my father. Earlier this year, my family at Acquin received a visit from an old man and a boy. The old man was seeking my father, and expressed a wish to keep faith with him. The boy was overheard referring to his master by name; it appeared he called him Galbertius Sidonius. The old man came here, to Hawkenlye, seeking the healing waters, but he died before the monks could help him. His servant had disappeared, but has recently been found dead. His body even now lies in the crypt awaiting burial.’

The Prince, who had been listening intently, now turned to John Dee. They murmured together for some time; once or twice Dee shook his head emphatically. The Prince did not look pleased.

Eventually, Prince John turned back to face Josse. ‘You believe the old man to be Sidonius,’ he said, his tone giving nothing away. ‘Can you prove it?’

‘I believe so, Sire,’ Josse said eagerly. ‘Although, as I said, I never met him, others did. My brother, Yves, for one, who is at present here in Hawkenlye. Some of the monks in the Vale, too, encountered the old man. Perhaps if they were to describe him to you, in as much detail as possible, you could say whether we speak, indeed, of the same man.’

‘A sound plan,’ the Prince said, ‘but for one thing. We have never met Sidonius either.’

‘We-?’

The Prince gave a tsk! of exasperation. ‘The Magister and I.’

‘But the Magister told me he was old! Ancient, in fact! I thought that meant he must know him!’ Josse exclaimed.

The Magister spoke. ‘No. I do not.’

‘Then how do you know he is ancient?’ Josse demanded, turning to glare at Dee.

‘There are ways,’ Dee murmured. ‘One receives. . an impression.’

As if he did not want the Magister to proceed with that line, the Prince spoke sharply. ‘You said you have a question for us, Sir Josse. You may ask it.’

Helewise was almost sure, judging by the long pause, that Josse had forgotten what he had wanted to know. She was about to whisper a reminder when he said, ‘Aye. I would ask you, Sire, how you come to know of Galbertius Sidonius.’

Once more, there was a brief exchange between Prince John and the Magister. Then the Prince said, with credible nonchalance, ‘The story of your father and his jewel was well-known in court circles, d’Acquin. The returning crusaders brought home many tales, and the one of the modest and unassuming knight who rescued a little boy and was awarded a valuable prize was ever a favourite.’ He leaned forward, stopping whatever Josse had been about to say before he could begin. ‘You may like to know that the little boy grew up into a warrior who begat many bellicose sons and who is still a much-respected military authority in his own land. My brother and his knights have not always been entirely happy that his life was saved; a considerable number of Christian soldiers would still be alive today if your father had left Azamar where he was.’

‘He was a child,’ Josse said softly. ‘Surely it is not in God’s orders that we kill children.’

The Prince shrugged. ‘War is unpleasant, d’Acquin. Do you not recall?’

Josse made no reply, but Helewise felt the anger ripple through him. Thinking that he might be glad of a moment to get himself under control, she said, ‘May I speak, Sire?’

The Prince waved a hand heavy with rings. ‘Of course, my lady.’

‘I wondered how you came to connect the tale of Geoffroi d’Acquin and his jewel with Galbertius Sidonius. Geoffroi’s family remember that his father always referred to his friend as the Lombard, and I was curious to know how you managed to identify him with the man you seek.’

The Prince stared at her. It was not, she discovered, a pleasant experience; against her will — she was determined not to be cowed — stories of his famous temper came to mind. I am Abbess here, she told herself. He is sitting in my chair, and I am not going to stand here before him quaking like some child postulant caught out in a minor misdemeanour.

She straightened her shoulders and stared back.

From behind the Prince, she heard John Dee emit a brief, soft chuckle.

As if the small sound had broken some contest going on between the Prince and the Abbess, the Prince relaxed, smiled and said, ‘My lady, these things happen, do they not? A man’s deeds are mentioned, someone says, oh, you mean old so-and-so, and there you are, an unknown person suddenly has an identity. Is that not so?’

She wondered why she should feel so strongly that he very much wanted her to swallow this explanation, which was so flimsy as to be almost non-existent. She said meekly, ‘Yes, Sire. Indeed it is.’

She caught Dee’s eyes on her; even if the Prince thought she believed him, John Dee certainly did not.

She went on staring at Dee.

Was it her imagination, or did she sense a warmth from him, a sense that he meant her no harm? That — surely this was taking it too far! — he just might be on her side. Which, since she and Josse stood shoulder to shoulder, made it Josse’s side, too.

In the face of the power that seemed to come in waves off the person of the Prince, to have the Magister as an ally seemed something greatly to be desired.