The Rose of the World

TWELVE

In his hiding place, Ninian stirred in his sleep and woke. Still groggy, he focused his mind on the message he had to send, concentrating on the image he was trying to impart. He brought Josse to mind, visualizing him lying deeply asleep, and gently attempted to introduce the vivid image into his dreams.

He and Meggie could sometimes communicate in that way, although it was haphazard and only worked intermittently. They practised regularly, and Meggie was sure they were improving. Would it work with someone who was not of Joanna’s extraordinary blood? Would it work with Josse?

Ninian fervently hoped so.

When Ninian had obeyed Meggie’s fierce command and run away from the fight up by the chapel, he’d had no idea of where he would go, other than that it was undoubtedly best to stay within the great forest. He had first encountered it when he was a child, a fugitive with his mother and on the run from a cousin of hers whose plans for Joanna and her son were not at all to Joanna’s taste. There had been several years when he had lived a very different life, but a decade ago he had come back. Since Josse had adopted him and they had all gone to live in the House in the Woods, Ninian’s knowledge of the wildwood and everything that lived within it had grown until it was almost as great as his half sister’s.

Without even thinking about it, he knew as he’d fled that it was the obvious place for a man like him to hide.

To begin with, the overriding necessity had been to get away. As soon as he was some distance from the chapel he had deliberately slowed right down. A running man could not help but leave tracks because, for one thing, his headlong flight tended to break branches and flatten undergrowth and, for another, if you were racing along you could not see where you were putting your feet, and it was all too easy to leave footprints in muddy patches.

In the depths of the dense woodland, Ninian had moved silent and light-footed as a shadow. The immediate danger was past, and so he had turned his mind to what he was going to do. He had wounded a great lord and in all likelihood killed another. He heard Meggie’s words in his head: if he’s dead they’ll make sure you hang.

He did not want to die. Life was sweet, and he was not ready yet to leave it.

Having decided that, he began to make plans. Get far away, preferably across the Channel. Yes, that was good. He would need his horse, some good, weatherproof garments, some food supplies. Some money. None of those could he acquire except from his home, so he would have to make contact with the household. Well, he would have to do that anyway, for to leave England without saying goodbye was impossible. He pictured Josse and Meggie, and then an image of Little Helewise’s lovely face gently took their place.

Before he could be undermined by his emotions, he deliberately closed them away in a corner of his mind and returned to the practicalities.

He wondered how grave the accusations against him were. Was he exaggerating the danger? Would they listen if he said that both lords had advanced on him, each bearing arms, and his actions had been purely in self defence? They might. But what if they did not? He shook his head fiercely. Oh, but it was hard, not knowing the outcome of the fight.

He had drawn close to the little hut where his mother and Meggie had lived. He had not been aware of heading that way, and he wondered if perhaps his mother’s spirit had tugged at him. He stopped under the trees at the edge of the clearing and, trying to empty his mind as Meggie had taught him, he waited. There was a faint whisper, as if a soft breeze had swirled up from the ground around him, and he found that he was smiling. Then it — she — was gone.

Meggie was not at the hut, but he had not expected her to be. Some time had passed since the fight, but he guessed she was still involved with the wounded men, probably down at the abbey by now. But somebody was there.

As he approached, the door opened and Tiphaine said, ‘You’d better come in and tell me what’s happened.’

She made him sit down by the fire, and swiftly she made a hot drink for him. It was some herbal concoction that had the effect of swiftly soothing him, so that he was able to tell his tale calmly.

When he had finished, she nodded and said, ‘I knew something was amiss. Josse has been here, and he told us, but I’d already felt it in the air.’ She paused. He wondered if she would go on to explain, but he ought to have known better. Turning to face him, her eyes seemed to snap back to the present moment, and she said, ‘You didn’t kill either of the men you fought.’

He was about to shout with relief, but he knew from her expression that his joy was premature. ‘Go on.’

‘Two things,’ she said. ‘One: there’s a third man at Hawkenlye and he is dead, and they’re saying you killed him.’

‘I did not,’ he said quietly.

She nodded impatiently, as if to say of course you didn’t. ‘Two: out of the two you fought up by the chapel, one’s the dead man’s brother and the other’s the king.’

Ninian felt as if somebody had punched him very hard in the stomach. Of all the men in the land, he’d had to go and inflict a wound on the king. He recalled the older of the pair. He hadn’t recognized him, but then there was no reason why he should have done. He had never met him in his life.

He looked up to find Tiphaine watching him. He almost told her: the king is my half brother. But it was his mother’s secret, and not his to tell. As if she heard his thought and understood, Tiphaine reached out and briefly clasped his hand.

Then she said, ‘You need help, but you can’t go to the House in the Woods.’

‘I know,’ he agreed. ‘If they find out my family sheltered a wanted man, Josse will be in trouble too.’

‘Not much future in staying here either,’ she went on, as if she had not heard. ‘Much as this place would welcome you, and much as I reckon you’d be safe here indefinitely, you can’t spend the rest of your life in a hut in the forest.’ She fixed stern eyes on him. ‘Your mother saw great things for you, my lad. She thought she was doing the right thing by you when she placed you in that knight’s household where you went as a boy, but it turns out that wasn’t your path after all. Now you spend your days dreaming under the trees and tending the wild creatures.’

‘I like the forest!’ Ninian protested sharply. ‘I’m happy with my life.’

She studied him, quite unmoved by his outburst. ‘So you might be, young Ninian, but I reckon what occurred today happened for a reason.’

He thought about it. ‘You mean it was all predestined, just to shake me out of my comfortable ways and force me to do something different?’ He spoke with heavy sarcasm, intending to make his suggestion so preposterous as to be laughable.

Tiphaine wasn’t laughing. And, as he listened to the echoes of his bitter words ringing in his head, he realized he wasn’t either.

In this place, in the depths of the wildwood and with the distillation of his mother’s strange legacy strong around him, it all sounded horribly plausible.

He had stayed with Tiphaine until dusk. Then he got up to go. She came out into the clearing with him, looking up into the night sky and sniffing the air. ‘Mars is rising,’ she observed. ‘He’ll give you courage if you set out with your head high.’ Then, to his surprise — for he had never thought her a demonstrative woman — she stepped up to him and put her arms round him in a quick, tight hug. She muttered something in a tongue he did not know, but he guessed it was a blessing. Then, without another word, she went back inside and closed the door.

He had already made up his mind where he would go. Keeping off the main tracks, he followed the faint animal trails that only he — and probably his half sister — knew. Even there, he was careful only to walk where the ground was firm and the leaf mound lay deep. As the light faded and he could no longer see clearly where he was putting his feet, he took to feeling his way with his toes. Progress was slow, but he was all but sure he was leaving no traces of his passing. Besides, he was not in a hurry. He had all night.

He was not sure he could find the place. When he knew he was near, he stopped, leaned his back against a birch tree and made himself relax. Memories returned: they were bitter-sweet, for his mother was wound up in them and, as always, bringing her to mind was both a pleasure and a deep, unhealed pain. For a moment he thought he heard her voice — you are too far to the east and should turn towards the North Star — but it was probably just his imagination.

He decided to follow the suggestion in any case. Presently, he spotted the landmark he had been searching for and a wide smile broke across his face. ‘Thank you,’ he said aloud.

Dawn was breaking now, and Ninian awoke in his secret sanctuary. The fire had died down, but its embers still glowed faintly, and it did not take him long to build it up again. Last night he had arranged the stones in a circle for his hearth, and there was plenty of dead wood around. He had cut sheaves of dead and dying bracken for his bed, and he had been warm enough. He was, however, very hungry. Tiphaine had fed him and given him what food she had, but he had not eaten a proper meal in days.

He crept out of his hiding place and located the stream that ran nearby, bending to wash his face, neck and hands, and scooping up draughts of the clean, bitingly cold water. Standing up, he made his way slowly back again, staring intently to make quite sure there was no sign of his presence. The fire was placed so that what little smoke it made was concealed, but, now that it was day, he decided to let it die down. If Josse came looking, he would need no pointer to tell him where Ninian was. Or so he hoped…

Josse woke in the thin light of the pre-dawn from a dream he could not recall. Vivid in his mind, however, was the elusive memory that he had tried to pin down the night before.

There was no time to waste. He got out of bed and swiftly dressed, drawing on his boots and reaching for his cloak. The place he was going to was secret, and he must on no account give its location away by leaving tracks or inadvertently leading someone else there. He felt reasonably safe. None of his own household was awake yet — not that they posed any threat — and he did not think any search parties would be about so early. It was, after all, only just getting light.

He hurried out to the yard and, greeting Alfred, put bridle and saddle on him and led him out of the stable. Mounting, he urged him forward and set off. He briefly wondered if he should take Ninian’s horse with him, and the pack he had prepared, but he decided against it. He might be wrong — although he didn’t think so — and, besides, he knew Ninian would not leave without saying goodbye.

Josse thought he would remember the way without difficulty, but he was wrong. It was not far short of twenty years since he had first been taken there, and at the time he had been suffering from the after-effects of a blow to the head. He had been tended by a small boy, and the two of them had forged a deep bond which existed to this day. Now, his desperate need both driving him on and making him too tense to calm down and concentrate, he reined in and swore softly under his breath with frustration.

He would not find it standing still, he thought. Nudging Alfred, keeping to the side of the narrow, winding path so as not to leave hoof prints, he rode slowly on. The trail climbed up a slight rise, and he heard the sound of running water.

He stopped, dismounted and, leading Alfred, went for some way along the top of the ridge, looking intently down to the left. He came to a place where the stream he had heard ran through a shallow valley. There was no track down there now, although he thought he remembered that once there had been. He tethered Alfred and climbed carefully down into the valley. He was looking for a spot where a large ledge of sandstone stuck out from the side of the valley, its base concealed by a tangle of thorn bushes.

He smelt wood smoke. Only very faintly, and had he not been expecting it, he would probably have missed it. He looked around, but there was no wisp of smoke on the cold air.

He spotted an outcrop of rock. It was not precisely as he remembered, but it was worth investigating. As he drew nearer, he realized that the tangle of thorn that had once been knee high now reached up to his chest. It was the right rock, and the hiding place he sought lay beneath it.

He edged forward. Should he call out? If Ninian was within, asleep perhaps, and Josse took him by surprise, the consequences might be grave. He went right up to the sandstone and, with the hilt of his dagger, tapped lightly on the rock.

A voice behind him said, ‘I’m over here.’

Josse spun round. Ninian was emerging from beneath the down-sweeping branches of a yew. ‘I had to be careful,’ he began. ‘I don’t think anyone else knows about my old camp, but you can’t be too careful. I-’

He didn’t get any further. With a soft cry, Josse bounded over to him and took him in his arms. After a moment Ninian eased himself away and stood smiling up at Josse. ‘You found me,’ he said. ‘I thought you would. Come inside.’ He pushed aside the stiff and viciously-barbed branches of thorn and revealed the hidden entrance.

Crouching down, Josse went in, Ninian right behind. Josse straightened up and looked around him. The small space was just as he had remembered, although the withies woven between the posts that formed the walls were sagging and there were large gaps. But Ninian had made the place neat, and there was a fire dying in the hearth.

Josse turned to him, slowly nodding. ‘I lay there, beside the fire, which was exactly where it is now,’ he said.

Ninian grinned. ‘I used the same stones. Although several of them had become dislodged by the wild animals, they were still pretty much where I left them. I don’t believe anyone’s been here since you and I last visited. Nobody will find me here.’

The last comment jerked Josse back to the present. It was all very well indulging a fond memory, but Ninian was in danger. ‘You can’t stay here,’ he said, rather too brusquely. ‘They will find you, Ninian, for the crimes of which you stand accused are very serious.’

‘I am no murderer, Josse,’ Ninian said.

Josse regarded him steadily. ‘A man died as the result of a fight, Ninian. It seems somehow he was involved in the plot to abduct Rosamund, and we all know you would defend those you care for to the death, if necessary.’ And your whereabouts were not known at the time the man died, he could have added.

‘Josse, I give you my word. I have murdered nobody. The wounds I inflicted in the fight by the chapel were as much to defend myself as attack the others.’

‘Aye, I appreciate that,’ Josse replied. ‘But one of the men you wounded-’

‘Was the king,’ Ninian interrupted gently. ‘Yes, Josse, I know. I went to see Tiphaine, and she told me everything.’

‘Your horse stands ready for you back at the House in the Woods,’ Josse plunged on, ‘and I’ve prepared a pack for you, and a blanket.’ He had not expected this moment to hurt so much. Ninian had to go, and it was Josse’s task to make sure he left as quickly as he could.

Ninian put out his hand, but then let it drop. ‘I have to say goodbye,’ he muttered. ‘I won’t leave without seeing Meggie, and there’s Little Helewise. She — she-’

Josse saw tears in his son’s eyes. ‘She is at the house,’ he said. ‘Leofgar brought her over in the night.’

Ninian’s face lit up. ‘Why?’ he demanded. ‘Oh, you can’t know how relieved I am, but I don’t understand.’ He frowned. ‘Unless-’

‘Ninian, we all know you. We’ve been working it out, and we realized that, while you would never come to the House in the Woods — or, indeed, go to the homes of any of the people you care about — because you would not bring trouble to our doors, yet you are incapable of fleeing without a word of farewell.’

‘Am I so transparent?’ A bitter smile twisted his mouth. ‘If that’s the case, I might as well give myself up right now.’

Josse grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, quite hard. ‘You are not; only to we who know and love you,’ he said harshly. ‘And don’t you ever, ever, speak of giving yourself up!’

Ninian wriggled free, wincing. ‘I was only joking,’ he muttered.

‘Then don’t,’ Josse replied shortly. ‘It isn’t funny.’

There was a pause. ‘I’m going abroad,’ Ninian said.

‘Aye, I know,’ Josse said heavily. Then, for he was finding this unendurable, he made for the entrance and crouched down, preparing to crawl out. ‘Wait here,’ he said. ‘Don’t leave your hiding place. There will be search parties, although they’re going to concentrate on the main roads to begin with. We ought to have today, at least.’ He looked back at Ninian. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’ Then he hurried away.

Back at the House in the Woods, Tilly had food on the table and the household were sitting down to eat. Meggie rushed to Josse as he came into the hall, Little Helewise hard on her heels. ‘Have you found him?’ Meggie cried, at the same moment as Little Helewise said, ‘Is he all right?’

‘I have, and he is.’ He smiled at them. ‘You guessed, then, where I’d gone.’

‘It wasn’t difficult,’ Meggie replied.

Helewise got up and came to take his hand. ‘He is not hurt?’

Josse looked round at the circle of anxious faces. Little Helewise was pale, biting her lip. Geoffroi was frowning, as he often did when his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

‘He is unharmed and safe,’ Josse said. ‘Safe for now, anyway, although there is no time to waste. If we are quick, there is time, for those who wish to do so, to go and see him and see him on his way.’

Helewise squeezed his hand. He glanced at her and saw there were tears in her eyes. ‘He’ll be all right!’ Josse said heartily, with a confidence he was far from feeling. ‘He’s resourceful and brave. If anyone can get away to safety, it’s Ninian.’

‘Where will he go?’ Little Helewise asked in a whisper. She caught his eye and twisted her mouth in a brave smile.

Josse looked at her, compassion filling his heart. ‘He’ll have to get out of England,’ he said gently. ‘The king’s reach is long.’ He had a plan, which presently he would suggest to Ninian, but for now he thought he should keep it to himself.

‘When — how long will he have to stay away?’ Little Helewise said.

Josse sighed. ‘I don’t know.’ Then, overcome with helpless fury, he added bitterly, ‘Until the king either forgets him or dies, I expect.’

There came the sound he had been unconsciously listening out for and dreading to hear: a horse’s hooves clattering into the yard and Will’s voice raised in greeting. ‘Sit down, all of you,’ he hissed, pushing Meggie and Helewise before him and flinging himself down into his chair. ‘We’re an ordinary family having breakfast. We’re very worried about one of our loved ones, but we have no idea where he is or what he plans to do!’ He looked round at them all. They were too pale, too anxious. ‘Eat!’ he said in an urgent whisper. ‘Go on, eat, curse you all!’

He regretted his furious words as soon as they were out of his mouth. It was too late to apologize — he could hear Will’s heavy tread outside as he ushered their visitor up the steps to the hall — but hurriedly he glanced at everyone round the table, begging their forgiveness with his eyes.

The door opened.

Will said, ‘Sir Josse, the sheriff’s here.’

Josse turned to see Gervase de Gifford walking towards him.

Gervase studied them all. Turning to Josse, he said, ‘A word in private, if I may.’

Josse got to his feet and hurried over to him, taking his arm and walking with him out of the hall and back down the steps, crossing the open ground in front of the house until they were on the edge of the surrounding trees. Stopping, he turned to Gervase. ‘Nobody will hear us out here.’ He studied the sheriff’s grave face. ‘What is it?’

‘Josse, I should not be here. Certainly, I should not have come on the mission that has brought me to you.’ He paused.

‘You have a conflict of duty,’ Josse said quietly. ‘I understand.’

‘Do you?’ Gervase’s light eyes were intent. ‘I’m not sure you do. Ninian attacked the king and Olivier de Brionne, and they are saying he killed Olivier’s brother. The king has given me a direct order — find the madman who fought him by the chapel and bring him to justice — and the penalty for disobedience will be terrible and swiftly demanded.’ He passed a hand over his face. ‘My family — Sabin and the children — may suffer too, I cannot say.’

‘You don’t have to-’ Josse began.

‘I don’t have to help you?’ Gervase snapped. ‘Oh, Josse, but I do. You are my oldest friend, we have endured much together and each has put his trust in the other. You saved my life, and I told you then that you had made a lifelong friend. Such things make bonds that do not fade away when trouble comes. Besides, I-’ Whatever he had been about to add, he bit back.

Josse bowed his head. ‘Nobody here will say a word concerning this visit,’ he muttered.

‘I know,’ Gervase replied. He paused, cleared his throat and then said, ‘Josse, Ninian must leave England today. I can postpone a search of the forest, for we are first going to concentrate on the main roads and tracks where a fleeing man can move swiftly, but only until tomorrow. Wherever Ninian is — and I don’t want to know,’ he added quickly as Josse opened his mouth, ‘get him right away from here.’

‘Aye, I will, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for a day’s grace,’ Josse said. ‘Everything is prepared. His horse stands fed and watered and loaded in the stable, and the bag I have packed lies ready on the floor. As soon as we’ve said our goodbyes, Ninian will be off.’

Gervase nodded. ‘Excellent.’ He hesitated, eyeing Josse and then quickly looking away. ‘I — er, have a suggestion,’ he said tentatively, ‘if you would hear it?’

‘I would,’ Josse answered.

In that moment of desperate urgency, it struck Josse that Gervase was strangely reluctant to speak. He was about to press him — this was no time to be so sensitive and tactful! — when Gervase seemed to jerk himself out of his reverie.

To Josse’s surprise, for there was nobody near, Gervase leaned close and, speaking right in his ear, whispered to him. He spoke for some moments, and Josse’s eyes widened as he listened.

‘I had forgotten,’ Josse said when Gervase had finished. ‘You did tell me, years ago, but it had slipped my mind.’ Then, his eyes on Gervase, he said anxiously, ‘I pray it will not come to that!’

Gervase shrugged. ‘The king’s reach is long,’ he murmured. ‘Tell Ninian he must-’ He stopped. ‘Tell him to bear it in mind.’

‘Aye, that I will, and thank you.’

Gervase looked hurriedly away. Then, glancing up at the sun, he muttered, ‘I must go.’

He had turned aside, but Josse caught his arm and held him back. He fumbled for Gervase’s hand and they clasped, palm to wrist. Then Gervase hurried off back towards the house, and very soon Josse saw him emerge from the stable yard. Putting spurs to his horse, Gervase raced away.

In the end, only Little Helewise and Meggie went with Josse to say farewell. Geoffroi begged to be allowed to go, but Josse, knowing how painful it was going to be, gently forbad it. ‘Stay here with me,’ Helewise said softly to the boy. ‘I need someone to cheer me up, and there’s nobody like you for doing that.’

Catching Josse’s eye, she said, ‘Give Ninian my love. Tell him I shall keep him in my prayers and my heart until we meet again.’

They went on foot, leading Garnet. The various bundles that Josse had prepared were all now securely fastened, and Tilly had added a linen square in which she had tied some of her freshly-baked honey cakes. If love could protect Ninian, Josse reflected as they walked in silence beneath the trees, then he would leave his homeland in the best armour in the world.

Ninian was waiting for them in the little valley. The hiding place was once more concealed behind the thorn bush; Josse wondered absently how long it would be before it was used again. If it ever was…

He could barely cope with his sorrow. Taking refuge in being brisk and efficient, he showed Ninian what had been prepared for him and, waving aside the young man’s thanks, said, ‘Now, once you’re safely across the narrow seas, remember that you have kin there and go-’

He had not expected Ninian’s reaction. His face mottled with fury, he said, ‘They are not my kin! My mother hated that terrible old man they made her marry, and I would not seek them out even if they were all that stood between me and the gallows!’

There was a gasp of horror, from Meggie or Little Helewise; Josse did not know. He realized his mistake. ‘Ninian,’ he said quietly, ‘I do not refer to the family of Thorald de Lehon. I would never make such a suggestion to you, knowing even better than you how your mother loathed the lot of them.’

Only slightly mollified, Ninian said, ‘Who, then?’

‘I meant the d’Acquins,’ Josse said. ‘My brothers Yves, Patrice, Honore and Acelin, and their families. They are all at Acquin, and it is not very far from the coast. They will take you in and care for you.’ He paused, collecting his thoughts. It was a long time since he had seen his family — he did not even know if all his brothers were still alive — and now, in that moment full of painful emotions, he felt another one: regret that he had not made the time to visit them. With an effort, he brushed the thought aside. Yves and the others would help Ninian; that was all that mattered now.

He realized Ninian was watching him closely. ‘What is it?’

Ninian smiled. ‘They are not really my kin, Josse,’ he said gently. ‘I’m only your adopted son, remember?’

Josse waved a hand, momentarily unable to speak. He had quite forgotten. He drew Ninian to him, taking him in his arms. Very quietly, he said, ‘There is somewhere else, too.’ And he told Ninian what Gervase had said.

He hugged the young man once more, then let him go. He strode away to the edge of the valley and turned his back. He heard Meggie’s soft voice, speaking some urgent reminder to her half brother. Then she came to stand beside him.

For rather longer, he listened to the quiet sobbing of Little Helewise and the gentle tones of Ninian as he tried to comfort her.

Finally, she, too, came to join them.

They all turned and saw Ninian, already mounted on Garnet, one hand raised in farewell. He put his heels to Garnet’s sides, and the horse went up the slope out of the valley. For a few moments they heard the thud of his hooves as Ninian kicked him first to a canter and then, as the trees thinned, to a gallop. Then the sounds faded and they heard no more.

Speed him on his way and let him find a safe haven, Josse prayed. He thought he was praying to God, but suddenly an image of Joanna flashed before his eyes. He’s your boy, he reminded her, as if she needed reminding. You make sure he’s all right.

There was no answer.

On either side of him, Meggie and Little Helewise each took one of his hands. Together, not speaking, they went home.