The Paths of the Air

Postscript

21 December 1196

I t was not the traditional season for a wedding, but the young bride and bridegroom had waited quite long enough and it was high time that their union was formalized.

Dominic had asked his mother, and she had asked the priest, and Father Gilbert had said that little would give him greater pleasure than to perform, at Hawkenlye Abbey, the ceremony that would unite the Abbess’s younger son in matrimony with his radiant bride.

The wedding would take place on the shortest day of the year. To honour their beloved Abbess and show off the Abbey to the very best of their abilities, the nuns, the monks and the lay brothers threw themselves into the preparations. The news spread swiftly that Abbess Helewise’s son was home again after countless decades bravely fighting the Infidel in Outremer — it was only eleven years, but wild exaggeration spiced up a tale — and many people made up their minds to go to the Abbey and show their respect for its Abbess by cheering the young couple and wishing them well.

It was just as well that the Abbey could accommodate a crowd.

Helewise had ordered Dominic to face Thibault of Margat with the truth. Together mother and son went to see the Hospitaller, who, although slowly recovering, was still very unwell, and Dominic explained that he was going to entrust the formula to the safest place on earth. Thibault might have guessed where that was. He made a desultory attempt to question Dominic but soon gave up.

Looking at him with deep compassion, Helewise realized that the fight had leaked out of him. The single-minded, fierce and powerful man had gone, perhaps burned away in the fire that almost killed him and forced upon him this agonizing convalescence. He had been dosed and dosed again with Sister Tiphaine’s potions, wielded with a determined hand by Sister Euphemia. Their strength might be diminishing but the quantity that Thibault had consumed must now be considerable. And, as both the herbalist and the infirmarer often pointed out, you just did not know what else a powerful remedy did besides relieve pain.

Helewise studied Thibault as he looked up at the young man whose footsteps he had dogged so far and for so long. With a faint smile he said, ‘This thing… It is too powerful. I have seen what the lust for it will make men do and I’ve had enough of it all.’ He sighed. ‘I will not see Outremer again, for I shall never now voyage so far. When Brother Otto and I are able to travel, we shall go to Clerkenwell. I shall request a private meeting with the Grand Master and I shall report that the formula is gone.’

Dominic studied him for several moments, and it seemed to Helewise that he was thinking hard. Then he said very softly, ‘It could be retrieved, you know, were there to be incontestable need.’

The Hospitaller gave a small gasp. Then he nodded. He understood.

Josse went out to the forest to keep his tryst with Joanna. When he revealed the true identity of the young man whom she had known as John Damianos, he had the clear impression that it was not in fact news at all.

‘You knew, didn’t you?’

She smiled. ‘Yes.’

‘How?’

‘Remember when Abbess Helewise was so sick and we thought she might die?’

‘Aye. You called her back to life.’

‘I — well yes, sort of. But in the place where she was, she could see things that were going to happen, although I don’t think she realized it then or recalls it now. And one of the things she — we — saw was Dominic’s return. So when you brought him here to my hut, I recognized him.’

He shook his head in wonder. I ought to be used to her and her weird powers by now, he thought, but I’m not. I’m not sure if any normal, human man ever could be. The thought that swiftly followed — if a human couldn’t hope to understand Joanna, then what did that make her? — slipped in and out of his consciousness so swiftly that he barely noticed it. It was dark, Meggie was fast asleep and Joanna was lying in his arms.

He had other things on his mind.

The dead had to be accounted for.

Gervase de Gifford was satisfied that in several cases the murderer was dead: Kathnir killed the Turk Touros and died at the hands of William and Tancred, who were also responsible for the death of Brother Jeremiah and the fire in Tonbridge Priory’s guest wing. Tancred died fighting Josse and John Damianos, and William was slain by Josse to save John’s life.

‘Except that he’s not really called John Damianos, is he?’ Gervase said with an ironic lift of his eyebrows. He and Josse were riding out to the old manor house in the forest, Dominic and Paradisa behind them.

‘No,’ Josse agreed.

Gervase looked at him through narrowed eyes. ‘I must get used to calling him Dominic Warin, I suppose,’ he said. Then, bitingly: ‘And I only have his and your word, Josse, as to how these two Franks were slain.’ Pretending surprise, he added, ‘Both killed by you, as it happens, fighting for your life, you say, alongside this son of your extremely good friend Abbess Helewise.’

Josse waited until he had his anger under control. Then he said, not for the first time, ‘Tancred would have killed me had I not struck the fatal blow before he did. And William virtually had his knife in Dominic’s throat and was about to kill him.’ He added stiffly, ‘I will swear to it if you wish.’

There was quite a long pause. Then Gervase said, ‘Your word is enough.’

The mood between them was definitely chilly. Gervase had been intensely curious about that strange, round indentation in William’s forehead and Josse’s explanation — that William fell on his face and the stone must have embedded itself, only to fall out and roll away into the grass — sounded feeble, even to Josse’s ears. He was tempted to say more but it was not his secret to tell.

They rode on in silence until at last — and it was not nearly soon enough for Josse — the old manor came into view.

Paradisa told her story and again Josse noticed the scepticism in Gervase’s eyes. It was as if the sheriff was thinking, ah, but it is too easy! These people all swear that the killings were justified, done in self-defence or in defence of the innocent, but since they all bear witness for each other, how am I to decide if they speak the truth?

Paradisa led them to the place in the trees where she had buried the body of Akhbir. Gervase stared down in silence and then observed that it was a long way for a woman to carry the body of a grown man.

Paradisa said tonelessly, ‘I did not carry him. I tied a rope around him and fastened the other end to my horse’s saddle. I dragged him to his grave, and I bitterly regret both the treatment and the fact that I was not able to dig the grave deep enough. I have had dreams of his body being dug up and eaten by wild creatures.’ A sob escaped her, hastily suppressed, and she put her hands up to hide her face. Dominic put his arm around her. Gervase went on staring down at the man-shaped mound of earth. Then abruptly he turned away.

He and Josse rode back towards Hawkenlye without a word being spoken. When they reached the place where Gervase’s road down to Tonbridge branched off, he drew rein. He looked Josse in the eye and, nodding in the direction of the young couple, said, ‘You can tell them I’m satisfied.’

‘I will,’ Josse said. ‘Thank you.’

‘But, Josse, next time-’ Gervase bit off whatever he had been about to say. Then: ‘Just remember who’s sheriff around here.’

He touched his cap, put spurs to his horse and cantered away.

Perhaps Sabin de Gifford had sufficient tact and understanding to reason the sheriff out of his bad mood at what he clearly saw as a challenge to his authority, if not worse. Either that or he came to his senses by himself. Sabin sent word that she and Gervase would come to the Abbey on Dominic and Paradisa’s wedding day to add their congratulations and good wishes.

Josse learned of this with relief. Gervase was just too good a friend to lose.

The day of the wedding began misty and dank and there was a soft, chilly rain in the air. The nuns and the monks, eyeing the weather and trying to smile, endlessly repeated the old saying rain at dawn, sun by mid-morn, and at least some of them believed it. The sceptics were proved wrong. As the church emptied after sext, the congregation looked up to see that the clouds had cleared. By the time Dominic and Paradisa stood side by side at the church door, the sun was shining brightly down from a pale winter sky.

Dominic was the first to make his vow, saying in a strong voice that carried right to the back of the crowd, ‘I do take you, Paradisa, as my wife,’ and straight away she echoed the words. Rings were handed to Father Gilbert to be blessed, and then he returned them to the young couple and they placed them on each other’s hands. The priest led them into the church and up to the altar, where they knelt while he prayed. Then he blessed them and the entire congregation broke into joyous song.

After the ceremony came the celebration.

Josse moved among the crowds spilling out into the cloister, the stable yard and every other available space. He had a pewter mug of excellent French wine in his hand. He was grabbed and greeted by many people: the Abbess’s elder son, Leofgar, was there with his wife Rohaise, four-year-old Timus and his two-year-old sister, Little Helewise, the children dressed in their best and bubbling with excitement. Leofgar looked pale and Rohaise confided to Josse that her husband and his brother had been up most of the previous night catching up on the years of Dominic’s absence, ‘and talking is such thirsty work, is it not, Josse?’ she added with a lovely smile.

He moved on, stopping — or being stopped — with increasing frequency. Among the guests were former patients who had been treated in the infirmary, including some who had been plague sufferers; ordinary people who had cause to be deeply thankful to Hawkenlye Abbey and who had come to express their gratitude on this special day. They all wanted to wring Josse’s hand and he was moved at being among so many people who seemed to regard him as a friend. It was quite something, when you considered that He saw Joanna.

She was standing just inside the Abbey gates, Meggie holding her hand and looking eagerly about with wide eyes. On Joanna’s other side stood a slim, erect figure cloaked in grey. As Josse approached, all three turned to look at him — Meggie shouted with delight, ‘Josse! Josse!’ — and he saw that the Domina had come to bestow her good wishes on the newly married couple.

He greeted the Great One with a deep, respectful bow. As he straightened up and met her strange, other-worldly eyes, he hoped he was not the only person there who knew just what an honour this was. Joanna murmured that she would escort the Domina over to where the Abbess sat beside her son and his bride, on a bench in the sunny cloister. ‘Of course,’ Josse said.

The two women moved away, Meggie between them turning to give her father a beaming smile. Just for a moment Joanna turned, too. She looked straight into Josse’s eyes and mouthed the one word, Later.

With a secret smile, he continued on his round. Joanna had just made the day perfect.

Late in the afternoon, Josse found himself sitting beside Dominic in the refectory. Not entirely sure how he came to be there, Josse turned with what he hoped was a sensible and sober face and said, ‘Well, Dominic, what a wonderful day!’

Dominic gave him a happy smile. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. He glanced at Paradisa, sitting on his other side. The neckline of her deep green velvet gown had slipped a little and the tops of her breasts were exposed, the skin pale cream, the flesh firm and rounded. ‘Yes,’ he repeated.

There was a sudden fierce erotic charge in the air.

‘Have some more wine,’ said Dominic, reaching out for the jug and topping up Josse’s mug.

‘Thank you.’

There was a pause while both men sipped the excellent wine. Then Josse said, ‘Why did you not bring Paradisa to New Winnowlands when you came in the guise of John Damianos? It must have been dreadful to be separated when you knew she was in such peril.’

‘It was,’ Dominic said quietly. ‘But I felt that her peril was even greater if she was with me. I hoped to keep the hiding place in the undercroft a secret from the entire world. I believed one or more of my pursuers would pick up my trail in the end and I wanted to make sure it led somewhere else.’

‘You succeeded,’ Josse said. ‘And it was to see her and check on her safety that you slipped away each night?’

Dominic met his eyes. ‘Yes, Josse. Although that was not all I did.’

Aye, Josse thought with a smile. The Abbess was quite right to insist that this marriage take place without delay…

There was something he wanted to say. It concerned a very important matter and he had not been able to find a suitable moment. Now, quite drunk, the suitability no longer seemed important. ‘What do you think of New Winnowlands?’ he demanded.

Dominic looked surprised. ‘Your estate? It’s fine. A good place, with rich pasture. Your people seem all right, too.’ He leaned closer. ‘You might do better moving your sheep to the higher ground during the winter. That way you’ll rest the summer grazing on the marshland. It’s fertile soil but sheep can damage it in the wet months. Also I reckon some of your land might be suitable for wheat. It might be an idea to keep some of the pasture back for making hay for winter fodder.’

Josse sat back in amazement. ‘You know all that, just from the short time you were there?’

Dominic smiled. ‘I just kept my eyes open. Most of it’s pretty obvious, Josse.’

‘It might be obvious to you but it certainly isn’t to me,’ Josse said ruefully. ‘I’m a soldier. I know nothing about farming the land.’

‘You don’t really need to all the time you have Will,’ Dominic remarked.

Josse fell silent. What he had just heard made the matter he wanted to put before Dominic all the more imperative. Without further thought he said, ‘New Winnowlands is too big for me and I don’t give it the devotion it deserves. If you and Paradisa need a home, I would like you to come and live there. There’s plenty of room but if you’d prefer to have the main house to yourselves, I’ll build a smaller place on the other side of the courtyard.’ He grinned. ‘I might even move into your outbuilding.’

Dominic’s expression turned swiftly from shocked surprise to laughter. ‘Oh, I see. You were joking.’

Josse grabbed his arm, spilling quite a lot of Dominic’s wine. ‘No, I’m not. Will you come?’

Dominic fixed Josse with a very direct stare. ‘Do you mean it?’

‘Aye.’

Dominic frowned. ‘It’s true that we are in sore need of a home. My brother Leofgar and his wife have offered to put us up until we find a place to settle but to be honest, Josse, it’s not the start to married life that I’d envisaged, what with us being so used to it being just the two of us. Don’t think I’m ungrateful — it’s very generous of him and Rohaise to have made the offer. But…’ He trailed to a stop.

Josse understood his misgivings. ‘Come to New Winnowlands, then. Make it your home.’

Dominic lowered his head and Josse guessed he was thinking hard. Letting his eyes roam around the room, Josse spotted the Abbess, sitting beside the Domina — good Lord, was she still there? — talking animatedly. The Abbess. Helewise. It was as if his heart had suddenly altered, becoming softer, kinder. She’s the sort of woman, he thought, who He did not finish the thought. Dominic was leaning over towards him and he spoke directly into Josse’s ear. ‘I was just about to ask you,’ he whispered, ‘why you were making this incredibly generous offer. But I don’t think there’s any need, do you?’

Guiltily Josse wrenched his gaze away from the Abbess. Too late; he was quite sure Dominic knew exactly where he had been looking. Then he thought, why should I feel guilty? Why should I try to hide my feelings, even if I could, from this perceptive, intelligent son of hers?

He turned to Dominic. ‘I love your mother and have done so for years,’ he said quietly. ‘It is true that I would do anything within my power to help her or to make her happy. But I would not have offered you New Winnowlands if I couldn’t abide the thought of having you living so close. Fortunately I can.’

Dominic watched him intently for a moment. Then a smile spread across his face. Lowering his voice and leaning closer to Josse, he said, ‘May I tell Paradisa? You’re not going to change your mind when you’re sober?’

Josse grinned. It was true he was drunk, but not that drunk. ‘I won’t change my mind. Tell her as soon as you like, and with my blessing.’

Helewise had gone outside into the last of the late afternoon light to take some fresh air. She went along the cloister and sank down onto a bench. Presently she saw with pleasure that Josse was weaving his not entirely steady way towards her. She smiled up at him, patting the bench beside her. He returned her smile and sank down.

For some time they did not speak. Then she said, ‘I wish he had come here openly when first he visited Hawkenlye. I — we could have helped him.’

‘He could not risk making himself known to you,’ Josse said immediately.

‘Why?’ she demanded.

She thought she heard Josse sigh. Then he said, ‘Because he would have put you in the position of defending him from his many enemies, whether or not you wanted to.’

‘Of course I would want to!’

Now the sigh was very audible. ‘Helewise, how could he know that? You’re the Abbess of Hawkenlye, a respected authority figure with considerable power. One of the men pursuing Dominic was a Knight Hospitaller. Even your own son might just recognize a possible conflict of loyalties.’

‘I would never have given him up, no matter who demanded that I should!’ she cried hotly.

‘No, of course you wouldn’t,’ Josse agreed. ‘But as well as that, there was the danger. Those others — the Franks and the Saracens — were utterly ruthless. Had Dominic come openly to the Abbey, innocent people might have got between the hunters and their quarry.’ He paused and then said softly, ‘People such as you.’

‘But-’ She struggled with her indignation. She still felt hurt that Dominic had not brought his problems, perilous and terrible though they were, straight to her. It was like plainly stating he could manage quite well without her.

Josse said gently, ‘My lady, he is still and will always be your son. But he is a grown man, a fighting man who has been in grave danger and who, by his own wits, courage and common sense, has lived to tell the tale.’ Then, softly: ‘Let him go.’

She choked on a sob. She reached for Josse’s hand and he took hers in his big, warm palm. It was immeasurably comforting.

After quite some time she said, ‘A part of me knew it was him long before he revealed himself.’ Josse did not speak but waited for her to go on. She struggled to put her thoughts into words. ‘I felt — odd, as if something momentous was happening, and I did not understand why.’ Smiling, she shook her head. ‘And, of course, there was his name.’

‘His name? What, John Damianos?’

‘No, no. His name in religion. He took the name Brother Ralf.’

Her smile deepened. She could all but hear Josse trying to work it out and failing. ‘What of it?’ he asked.

She squeezed his hand, leaning against his reassuring bulk. ‘Ralf was my father’s name. Dominic was always very fond of his grandfather.’

Much later, the newly married couple were led by a lively, ribald escort to their marriage bed in the guest quarters. The nuns had made up the bed with fine linen and warm blankets, and decked it with lucky charms and bunches of dried herbs. The priest had sprinkled it with holy water to sanction the union.

Finally the last of the happy, tipsy guests were shooed away and the gates firmly closed. The celebration was over and it was time for the lanterns and the candles to be blown out and for the night to descend.

Josse had been waiting for this moment.

When everyone had settled and all was quiet, he slipped out and hurried away to the forest. Joanna was waiting for him, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the hearth. Meggie was deeply asleep up on the platform, warmly wrapped, her thumb in her mouth.

Josse leaned down and kissed Joanna on the mouth, then settled beside her. He put his arm around her and she leaned into his shoulder.

‘You smell of wine,’ she murmured.

‘I’m not surprised. I have drunk rather a lot of it.’

‘It was a great celebration, wasn’t it?’

‘Aye.’ He put a hand to her jaw, raising her face so that he could look at her. ‘I am very glad that you and the Domina put in an appearance. It was a profound honour for her to give the young couple her blessing.’

‘Yes, it was. She did it, I think, because of the respect she has for Abbess Helewise.’

‘Dominic and Paradisa had been living in the forest, in your house. Yet the forest people made no protest?’

‘No. We recognized they are good people. They were in danger and no threat to us. Why should they not use the forest as a refuge?’

‘Mmm.’ He kissed her sweet-smelling hair as she nestled against him. It was beyond him even when sober to attempt to fathom out the strange ways of her people. He certainly wasn’t up to it tonight.

He realized how tired he was. ‘Sweeting, shall we go to bed? I fear I am too weary for more than a hug, but it would give me great pleasure to have you sleep in my arms.’

He felt her tense. ‘Yes, Josse, of course.’ She pulled a little away from him, turning her head so as to look him in the eyes. ‘But first I-’ She broke off.

‘What?’ He felt alarm swiftly rising in him. ‘What?’

She looked down. ‘I may have to go away.’

‘But you often go away!’ He tried to make light of it. ‘You’re frequently not here when I come looking but you always turn up again.’ He forced a laugh.

She did not join in.

‘This time it is different,’ she said neutrally. ‘I have to — they have told me I must go to a place which is of vital importance to us. To my people, I mean. Something is happening there. It’s under threat and we must protect it.’

‘Why you?’ he demanded. It was the first thing that flew into his head.

She smiled. ‘Oh, Josse. Dear, lovely Josse. Because I’m powerful now. I can do something about this threat. I won’t be alone,’ she hurried on. ‘They’ll choose the very best of us for the mission. I won’t be very important — others will do what is necessary. I’ll just be there to make up the necessary numbers.’

He looked straight into her dark eyes.

He did not believe her.

She was either being modest or, more likely, telling him this to comfort him. Trying to minimize the danger.

‘Where is this place?’ he said gruffly. ‘Is it far?’

‘Northern France.’

‘That is a big area. Can you not narrow it down?’

She grimaced. ‘No, Josse. I’m sorry. I can’t.’

Anger burst out. Keeping his voice down so as not to wake his daughter, he hissed, ‘Always so mysterious! Always I’ve got to do this or I have to go away so I won’t see you! But I’m welcome enough when you are here and you do want me, aren’t I? I’m very useful as a stud in your bed to keep you warm and give you pleasure!’

He heard his furious words and instantly wished he could draw them back.

But she took his face in her cool hands and, bending her head, kissed him. Then, breaking away, she said, ‘It’s the way it has to be. It’s never my wish to hurt you or to use you.’ A tiny pause. ‘Actually I love you.’

Once he would have been filled with joy to hear her say so. Once it would have been enough to keep him happy, keep him returning to her, patient, faithful and true.

Once…

He stood up.

‘You’re not leaving?’ She sounded aghast.

He gave her an ironic smile. ‘No. I’m going to bed.’

He went outside to relieve himself, then dipped his hands in the pail of water by the door and splashed his face and neck. Back inside, he found that she had climbed up onto the platform. She had moved over to the far side to make room for him. Meggie was curled at her feet.

He had imagined they would not speak to each other again that night. But after a while she said, ‘Josse? Are you still awake?’

‘Aye.’ As if he would be able to sleep!

He sensed that she was nerving herself to say something important. When it came, it was not what he had imagined.

‘I won’t be taking Meggie with me,’ she whispered, her mouth right against his ear. ‘She doesn’t know but I’ll have to leave her here. Lora will look after her, and Tiphaine says she’ll visit when she can. There will be others too, of course, who will share her care.’

Oh, dear God, he thought. He tried to speak, failed. Tried again. ‘When are you going?’

‘I don’t know. Perhaps next year, even the year after. It depends on — on many things. They haven’t told me much yet. There are preparations that must be made. Ceremonies,’ she added vaguely.

‘So why are you telling me this now?’

‘Because I can’t rest till I know you’ll help!’ she said in a fierce whisper.

‘Help? What help can you possibly want of me?’

‘Josse, I want Meggie to be with you,’ she said in a rush. ‘She’ll miss me and she won’t understand why I’m not here. If she has you instead she won’t mind.’

He opened his mouth to speak but found he had absolutely nothing to say.

‘Josse?’ Joanna said urgently. ‘Will you do it? Will you give me your word that you’ll do what I ask?’

He put his arms round her and drew her to him. The kiss was long and, in time, grew passionate.

When they were both satiated, he said, ‘Aye.’

He slept for some time and then was suddenly wide awake. It was still dark and he could tell from their breathing that Joanna and Meggie were sound asleep.

His mind was full of Joanna.

Where was she going? What would she be ordered to do? It must be dangerous if she was not allowed to take her child.

Joanna was going away. Not yet, but in the future. When she had gone he would slip into his daughter’s life. Oh, he was there already; he knew that the child loved him and, as for him, he adored her. But this would be different. Joanna would be far away and those in whose care she had left Meggie would be told that Josse was going to take up the role of parent. They all knew he was Meggie’s father; it was his right to care for his own child.

Meggie.

Joanna would be gone but she would leave their daughter with him. Perhaps he would take her away to live at New Winnowlands? He could find a pony for her, a nice, safe, well-mannered pony, and teach her to ride. Will would help — Will knew where to find good horses. And maybe Josse would get Ella to fix up a special chamber with a proper bed and pretty hangings. He could buy her clothes, shoes… Or perhaps she would be able to live temporarily at the Abbey? The details did not matter. He would work something out. The important thing was that the two of them would be together.

In a corner of his mind a voice that just might have been his appeared to be cheering.