whatever rural household would have them. Finally reaching Fontevrault, that renowned and wealthy abbey where Eleanor of Aquitaine now spent her days, they were greeted with the news that the queen was no longer there. She had left but a few days ago, Abbess Matilda informed them, bound for her castle on the island of Oleron. She had left orders that the Abbess Helewise and her party were to join her there.
Helewise glanced nervously at Josse, who had given a very faint shrug as if to say, don’t ask me! So, summoning her courage and telling herself firmly that she too was an abbess, she said to the abbess of Fontevrault, ‘My lady, I do not know where this island may be found. Is it far?’
Abbess Matilda looked at her sympathetically. ‘It is off the coast near La Rochelle, and perhaps a week’s journey. Less if the roads are dry.’
A week! Helewise kept a serene expression and said calmly, ‘I see. In that case, we shall set out immediately.’
Abbess Matilda reached out and clasped her sister abbess’s hands. ‘A day will make little difference. Stay with us this night. Let us tend you and your horses. You can bathe, rest and recover some strength. Then we shall replenish your supplies and see you on to your road.’
Helewise hesitated. She sensed her four companions urging her to accept the kind offer and in her head she heard again Abbess Matilda’s words: A day will make little difference. With a smile of sheer relief, she said, ‘Thank you, my lady. We accept.’
As they rode out the next day, she urged Honey on so that she drew level with Josse. Sister Caliste rode ahead, while Brother Augustus and Brother Saul brought up the rear with the packhorse. There was nobody near enough to overhear, but it was still in a carefully soft voice that Helewise spoke. ‘Sir Josse,’ she said, ‘what do you think of this, of Queen Eleanor having left the safety and sanctity of Fontevrault for some island castle?’
Josse frowned. ‘I have been thinking hard, my lady, yet have come up with no satisfactory answer. Undoubtedly the queen has much to occupy her in these uncertain times, for although it appears that King John’s succession is not to be contested, there are many matters for Eleanor’s attention.’ His frown deepened. ‘I could have understood had she gone to some city such as Niort, or Poitiers, or Tours, where urgent matters of State might be addressed. Yet I asked around at Fontevrault and was told that Oleron is a desolate place with few inhabitants and barely a sizeable building other than the queen’s castle and- My lady?’
Helewise was nodding in sudden comprehension. ‘I believe I can help, Sir Josse,’ she said. ‘Our dear Eleanor has just lost her favourite son. Unlike most people, she has not the luxury of privacy, for the death of a king demands the attention of one such as she. Yet she is human too and perhaps her grief has overcome her. You describe this Oleron as a lonely spot where few people dwell; where better for a queen to withdraw and mourn in privacy?’
Now the travellers were south of the great port of La Rochelle, out in the midst of an area of flat marshland that seemed to go on for miles in each direction. The day was warm and sunny, although the soggy ground produced strange mists that snaked up around the horses’ feet and legs. Insects whined and buzzed in clouds around the heads of both humans and animals, and the irritable swishing of the horses’ tails was a constant background sound. Presently the road led up over a low humpbacked bridge and, at the top of the rise, the view opened out before them.
Sister Caliste, riding in front, called out, ‘I can see the sea!’
Josse slipped off Horace’s back and hurried to stand beside her. ‘Aye, you’re right!’ he exclaimed. ‘And there’s an island over there, straight in front of us, maybe a mile off the shore.’
‘Is it Oleron?’ Helewise demanded urgently. Just then she did not think she could bear it if he said no.
He turned, gave her a very sweet smile and said, ‘I believe so, my lady. We’ll have to go on to the coast, find a boatman and ask, but I have been following the instructions that the monks at Fontevrault gave us and I am all but sure that at long last our destination is in sight.’
Helewise set up a brief prayer of thanks. Then, looking round at her companions, she said, ‘The queen awaits us. There is no dwelling, religious house or even lowly cottage where we may seek help, but I notice that this bridge crosses a stream.’ Already Josse and the lay brothers were eyeing her dubiously. ‘Sir Josse, take Brother Saul and Brother Augustus down there to the far bank. Sister Caliste, you come with me along this side of the stream to that stand of willows.’
Josse said, ‘What are we all to do, my lady?’
She fixed him with a direct look. She said firmly, ‘Wash.’
Quite a long time later, the five travellers reassembled on the road. Helewise cast a critical eye over her companions and was surprised and pleased at what she saw. Her own and Sister Caliste’s ablutions had been modest and prim; carefully back to back beneath the concealing willows, they had stripped to their chemises, washed as best they could and then put on clean linen and wimples. Caliste had rubbed the mud from the hems of their robes and banged the dust from their veils, and the two of them had dressed again and stood back to inspect each other. The effect, Helewise concluded, was not bad under the circumstances. The three men, however, had outdone them. Judging from the hoots of laughter and the loud splashing noises that she and Sister Caliste had tried to ignore, Josse and the lay brothers had apparently plunged right into the water. Now they stood with wet hair, decidedly damp garments and sheepish expressions, but all three looked as if they had just stepped from a bathhouse.
‘Excellent!’ Helewise exclaimed. ‘And Brother Augustus has even removed some of the dust from the horses. Well done! Now, before we have a chance to get dirty again, let’s go and find the queen.’
They reached the shore and soon found a narrow inlet where several boats were tied up to a wooden jetty. Josse found a group of seamen crouched over a cooking fire on which something savoury was stewing, and one of the men confirmed that the island across the water was indeed Oleron. Standing up, he pointed to a grim and forbidding fortress that stood on the point directly opposite. ‘That’s the castle,’ he said, puffing out his chest. ‘The queen’s castle.’
‘Really?’ Josse obligingly acted the part of a man overawed and deeply impressed. Then he said swiftly, ‘Can you take us over there?’ He turned to indicate his companions. ‘We are five, with six horses.’
The man contemplated the group, rubbing a thumb across the dark stubble on his chin. He bent down to mutter with the other seamen and then, straightening, named his price. It seemed reasonable to Josse, although he guessed that the seaman was probably inflating his usual rate in the presence of unknowing strangers. More for form’s sake than anything else, he offered two-thirds and in the end they settled on three-quarters. Then the man summoned a younger version of himself, who had to be his son, and, with two other men, they led Josse and his companions down the beach to a low, flat wooden craft with a broad beam and a single mast. Soon both humans and horses were standing on the salt-bleached deck as the seamen wielded their long poles and pushed off from the jetty.
It was less than a mile across the stretch of water to the island. Many sea crossings had never quite convinced Josse that boats were safe and he was glad of the abbess’s presence beside him. They stood in the bows of the boat, staring ahead over the calm sea to the flat, green outline of Oleron, and he could sense her tense excitement. He did not think it was the crossing that was making her nervous.
He said, ‘We have made good time, my lady. The queen will be surprised, I believe, to see us so soon.’
She looked up at him and he read gratitude in her face. ‘Do you think so? Oh, I hope you are right — it seems so long since her messengers came to Hawkenlye and I have been anxious in case she is angry with me for delaying.’
Josse smiled. ‘The queen is a great traveller. She understands better than most that nobody could travel from the south-east of England to the west coast of France in much better time than we have taken.’ Impulsively reaching out to grasp her hand, he added, ‘Stop worrying!’
She laughed softly. ‘Very well!’ Then — and he noticed belatedly that Sister Caliste and Brother Saul were watching — she extracted her hand and stepped a deliberate pace away.
They landed on the Ile d’Oleron and stood looking around them. It was a long, thin island, lying at an angle to the mainland and stretching out roughly south-east to north-west. Eleanor’s high-walled castle stood at the south- east corner; it was, Josse thought, staring up at it, the obvious place, for it commanded the straits between the island and the mainland. For some reason he felt a sudden deep shiver of apprehension. Something very bad had happened — or was about to happen — here.
He pulled himself together. ‘Come,’ he said bracingly, ‘let us mount up and set a smart pace as we ride up to the castle.’
