new chapel straight away, and he has said he will come to Hawkenlye as soon as he can. In the morning, I am to see a carpenter who knows of a team turned off here because at present there is no work for them. The men to whom I have spoken have all promised to spread the word and anyone interested in coming to England will seek me out here.’
Mother Marie-Raphael nodded. ‘It is because it is for the queen.’
Helewise picked up her meaning. ‘Yes. Even outside her own land of Aquitaine, she is much loved.’
The old nun made an eloquent gesture of contempt. ‘Boundaries are not important for one such as she.’
Helewise was not sure the queen would entirely have agreed. ‘The workforce who build the great cathedrals seem to be a law unto themselves,’ Helewise said, ‘with no strong allegiance to any except their own kind.’
‘Yes, that is quite true. They give their devotion, their sweat and blood to those who inspire them. And — ’ she smiled wryly — ‘to those who can pay. Now, Helewise, I shall send for food and wine, for you and I have been on our feet since early this morning and we have earned a little respite.’
She got up to summon a servant but just at that moment there was a tap on the door and Sister Marie-Agnes came into the parlour. ‘Please, ma mere, there’s someone outside asking for Abbess Helewise.’
Mother Marie-Raphael frowned. ‘It may be the carpenter, although we did say tomorrow.’
‘He’s not a carpenter; he’s a man of quality, even if he is very tired and extremely dirty,’ Sister Marie-Agnes said. ‘He’s got a young monk with him.’
Helewise was on her feet. Her heart was singing but she managed to maintain a calm expression. ‘It sounds as if they are Sir Josse d’Acquin and Brother Augustus, who accompanied me to the Ile d’Oleron,’ she said. ‘There was a matter that they had to see to before coming on here to Chartres.’
Mother Marie-Raphael smiled. ‘I was informed that this knight would join you here. I am relieved that he has arrived. Bring him in,’ she said, turning to Sister Marie-Agnes.
Bobbing a curtsy, the nun hurried away down the passage, to return shortly afterwards with Josse striding behind her. Helewise looked at him; he was, as Sister Marie-Agnes had said, filthy, his face, hands and garments stained with dust and sweat. In that quick glance she also detected that he was deeply worried.
‘Sir Josse,’ she said, ‘it is good to see you.’ Turning to Mother Marie-Raphael, she made the introductions.
‘The lay brother who arrived with Abbess Helewise is lodging with the convent servants,’ the old nun said, studying Josse intently. ‘There is accommodation there fit for one of your rank, Sir Josse, if you will accept it.’
‘Aye, I will, and I thank you,’ he said.
‘Go and refresh yourself,’ Mother Marie-Raphael said in a tone that brooked no argument, ‘and then return to us here.’
Helewise could not protest, much as she longed to speak to Josse alone. She would have to wait to find out what fearful discovery had put that look on his face; she just hoped the wait would not be too long.
They found their time for a private talk early the following morning when, as soon as the morning office had been said and breakfast eaten, Josse asked Helewise to show him around the cathedral site. It was some time before the carpenter was due to present himself and they set off immediately.
‘What have you been up to?’ she hissed as they walked. ‘Something awful has happened — I can tell just by looking at you.’
He hesitated and she sensed conflict in him. ‘I know that whatever the queen sent you to do was highly confidential,’ she whispered, ‘but if it’s so bad, can’t you tell me so that perhaps I can help?’
He gave a rueful smile. ‘It is terrible and I don’t think you can help, my lady.’ He glanced at her. ‘Nevertheless, I shall tell you, for the matter is not over and it is dangerous. I would not have the risks increased out of ignorance.’
She did not entirely follow, but the important thing was that he was going to confide in her. ‘Go on, then,’ she urged. ‘What did the queen ask you to do and what did you find out?’
He told her.
It was all that she could do to keep up her steady pace, so deep was the shock. ‘The king was there?’ she said.
‘Hush!’ He glanced around but there was nobody close enough to have heard. ‘Aye. Looks as if he was.’
‘And you think some unspeakable crime was committed in that tower?’
He looked down. ‘Er… aye.’
Suddenly she knew without a doubt that he was keeping something back. ‘Can you not tell me?’
‘It is only a suspicion,’ he said quickly. ‘I dare not even reveal what I fear to you, my lady, until I know for certain.’
She was frowning in puzzlement. ‘But why have you come here, Sir Josse? If your purpose is to investigate this dreadful matter to its conclusion, then should you not be on the trail of this man de Loup?’ She spoke the name so softly that it was more like mouthing the words.
They had come to a stop in the square and stood together staring up at the workmen swarming on and around the cathedral. ‘I am on his trail,’ Josse said quietly. ‘The trail leads here.’
Josse escorted the abbess back to the convent, where, she told him, she was to meet a carpenter who might agree to go to Hawkenlye, and then he wandered off around the cathedral wondering how he was to find de Loup. Ask, he thought. And what will be my reason for seeking him? He frowned; with an evil man such as de Loup, it seemed best to prepare very carefully. It would not be wise to say he had come from Oleron, for that would instantly arouse the man’s suspicion. I’ll say I’ve brought word from Chalus, Josse decided, that his friend Ambrois de Quercy’s dying. Unable to come up with anything better, he asked directions and set off for the workmen’s quarters. If Philippe de Loup’s ‘special contribution’ was in fact innocent and simply involved a commission for a window or a statue, then that was a good place to start.
The temporary village that housed the huge workforce was sited a short distance beyond the last of the town dwellings and consisted of a variety of structures, some stoutly made and some flimsy. Most of the men were absent, but Josse heard women’s voices and, following the sound, came to a wash house where three girls and two older women were busy doing laundry.
Greeting them, he said, ‘I am looking for a man named Philippe de Loup. Do any of you know of him?’
The girls stared back blank-faced, but one of the women glanced nervously at her companion and said, ‘I’ve heard the name, sir.’
And you don’t much care for it, Josse thought, watching the woman. ‘I am told he is making a contribution to the new cathedral,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Has he hired a craftsman?’
Again the woman looked at her companion, who shrugged. ‘I don’t know the details, sir,’ she said eventually, ‘but I did hear it said that he’s getting Paul de Fleury to do a statue for him.’
‘Paul de Fleury?’
‘He’s a mason, sir. He lodges down there — the house right at the end.’ The woman pointed along a muddy path between two huddled rows of dwellings. ‘He’s not there now. He’ll be up at the cathedral.’
‘Thank you.’ Josse turned and set off back towards the city, but, once out of sight of the wash house, he doubled back and circled round until he reckoned he was at the end of the path that the woman had indicated. The end house was a neat little dwelling and he tapped on the low door. There was no reply. He peered in through the tiny unglazed window and made out a bare room scantily furnished. A single cup and plate sat on a small table; de Fleury, it appeared, lived there alone. Also on the table were a sheet of precious vellum, a quill pen and a pot of ink.
He returned to the cathedral and asked several men but, although some of them recognized the name, nobody could tell him where de Fleury was. ‘I’m told he is to carry out a commission for Philippe de Loup,’ Josse said to one man.
The man sniffed, hawked and spat. ‘Well, nobody else was going to.’
De Loup’s evil reputation, it seemed, had spread far and wide.
First thing the next morning, Josse sought out Abbess Helewise, to tell her about Paul de Fleury and explain that he was hoping, by setting off so early, to catch him before he left for work. She was clearly preoccupied with her lists of carpenters and masons but still she looked at him and, with anxiety in her eyes, told him to take care.
At that hour, few people were about and it was strange to see the cathedral deserted save for the circling pigeons. Something seemed to have alarmed them and suddenly they flew up in a great cloud, leaving a sole carrion
