‘Very well. Come with me. I know someone close at hand who will help us.’
They went slowly over to the horses. Horace and the chestnut stood together, pacing nervously, ears laid flat against their heads. Josse was not sure which out of him and John was supporting the other. They managed to clamber onto their horses’ backs and then, praying that she would not only be there but be prepared to treat them, slowly Josse led the way to Joanna’s hut.
Sometimes he had trouble finding it. Sometimes he could not locate it at all. But today perhaps she felt his desperate need and helped him, for he rode straight to it.
He drew rein in the clearing and fell off Horace’s back, and she was there to catch him. He sensed her helping him as he collapsed to the ground and then she went to John and held out her arms to him.
It was odd, but Josse thought he saw a look of recognition on her face as she looked up at John Damianos. Perhaps she knew he was on his way, too, he thought dreamily. He would not have been surprised if she had seen both of them in her scrying bowl… He closed his eyes.
But there was no rest yet. All too soon she was back, pulling and dragging at him, saying breathlessly that he and his friend must come inside before shock combined with the wet ground and the cold made them even more unwell than they already were. And, although movement was agony, he knew she was right.
She laid them on the floor of the hut beside the central hearth. Where was Meggie? Josse wondered. He looked around for his daughter and saw her peering down from the bedding platform above his head. She whispered joyfully, ‘Josse!’ and he said, ‘Hello, little Meggie.’
Joanna must have decided that John’s wounds were the more serious for, having given both men some hot, herbal-smelling drink that she had hastily prepared, she turned her attention to him. Josse was quite content to lie there in the warmth of the fire with a blanket over him and a soft pillow under his head. The pain in his wounds was already lessening — bless Joanna for her magic remedies! — and he was feeling relaxed and muzzy. When Meggie took advantage of her mother’s preoccupation with her patient and crept down the ladder to cuddle up to her beloved father, his happiness was complete.
Nineteen
Josse awoke to the dim dawn light. He was still lying beside the hearth. Joanna must have got up during the night to put on more firewood, for there was still plenty of warmth from the glowing embers. He stretched carefully, closing his wounded left arm into a fist and opening it again, then raising the arm a few inches. There was pain — quite a lot of it — but its sharp edge was absent. He would, he decided, begin using the arm as soon as the cut began to heal.
He glanced across at John Damianos. He was still asleep and the long cut above his eye had been closed with a row of small stitches. On his shoulder a thick dressing was held in place by a bandage wrapped around his chest. Yesterday’s frightening pallor was gone.
Josse lay on his back looking up at the ceiling. The smell was unique: he would have known blindfold that he was in Joanna’s hut. It was a blend of all the plants she used for her remedies and not at all unpleasant; rather the reverse. He could not see Joanna on the sleeping platform but one of Meggie’s feet was sticking over the edge. He smiled. Perhaps she would come down to him when she woke. He was vaguely aware that she had stayed with him for much of the night, curled up against him like a kitten, but at some point Joanna must have The night. Something happened during the night. What was it? Think!
There had been a noise — a crashing noise, quite close — and he had tried to go and investigate, only his head had swum so badly he had thought he would be sick. Then Joanna had said calmly, ‘It is nothing. We are safe here. I will go and see.’ She had briefly gone outside then, returning, closed the door and said softly, ‘Go to sleep, Josse. There is nothing to worry about.’
Still fighting the nausea, he had been all too willing to obey. Now, with the morning approaching, it was a different matter.
Very cautiously he raised his head and, when that seemed to be all right, levered himself into a sitting position. So far, so good. He pushed back the soft blanket and got up into a crouch. There was a stab of protest from his wounded arm and for a moment he felt dizzy, but both sensations passed. Then he stood up.
He found that as long as he put a hand on something solid to steady himself, he could move quite well. He opened the door and stepped outside into cool air, a rapidly brightening sky and a day that promised a mild breeze from the west and perhaps rain. He looked around, smiling involuntarily at the scene before him. Joanna must work incredibly hard, he reflected, for even now she had obviously been busy in her little patch. The beds were clear of weeds and dead vegetation, the paths between them swept and the grass verges neatly clipped. The fruit trees and bushes had been pruned so that waving branches did not catch the winter winds and damage the plants as they were torn off. Everywhere spoke of her careful husbandry and he The horses had gone.
Joanna had told him last night that she had removed their tack and put them in a hazel-hurdle corral. It had not sounded very secure but he had been too far gone in pain and drug-induced confusion to care. At some time during the night — he remembered the crashing — they must have pushed their way through the hurdles. But Joanna had gone to check! Why on earth had she not reported that the horses were missing? Because she knew you would get up and try to catch them, answered his logic, and she knew you were nowhere near up to it.
She could have gone, he thought disloyally.
He went back inside the hut.
Joanna was awake, leaning on one elbow and watching out for him. ‘I did not go after them because I knew they were safe,’ she said softly; both John and Meggie were still asleep.
‘How can you be so sure?’ he whispered back. ‘There are all manner of strange beings in this forest, including the man who put those savage cuts on him.’ He nodded in the direction of John Damianos.
‘It was not he who was close by last night.’ Joanna spoke with such certainty that he believed her. ‘I know who it was, though, which is why I said we were safe. He was patrolling among the trees, guarding us. He was curious about the horses, for as you probably know my people do not have a great deal to do with them, although we greatly respect them because one of our Great Ones is revered in the form of a white horse.’
‘Aye, that’s as maybe, but are they safe?’ he demanded.
She smiled. ‘Perfectly safe. As I was saying, the being outside was curious about them and he probably called to them.’
‘I did not hear any call!’
‘No, dearest Josse, you wouldn’t have done, for it would have gone directly to their minds. They too were undoubtedly curious about him, which was why your old Horace pushed his way out of my admittedly inadequate pen and went to have a look, and the other horse followed.’
‘He’s called Cinnabar. He’s John’s horse.’ It was about the only thing Josse could think of to say.
‘Well, Horace and Cinnabar probably had a fine time with our guardian, then I expect they ambled off to look for food. Your Horace knows the Abbey well, doesn’t he?’
‘Aye.’
‘Then that’ll be where he’s gone, and Cinnabar with him. Don’t worry, Josse — ’ she swung her legs over the edge of the sleeping platform and jumped down — ‘they’ll be quite all right. When you leave, I’ll help you carry the saddles and bridles to the edge of the forest.’
‘They’re heavy,’ he said dully. It was better to think about the practicalities. The alternative was to contemplate going away from her again so soon and that hurt, especially when he hadn’t even seen his daughter yet this morning.
‘I will manage,’ she said. She added, with an attempt at a smile, ‘And you each have one good side with which to bear a load.’
Their eyes met. To his joy he saw an answering regret in hers. He knew that she too was wishing this day was going to be just for the three of them.
‘Come back soon,’ she whispered. ‘We will be waiting for you; I promise.’
She did not make promises lightly. With a grin that seemed to spread all by itself, he nodded.
‘Now,’ she said, ‘I am going outside to wash and then I shall prepare medicine, food and drink, and have a look at my patients’ wounds.’
