Piers was going to take me on the horse he’d grabbed, but the king wouldn’t let him. He said I’d be safer with him. It was stormy that night and the wind was howling, and the knights were yelling and I was really scared, but I thought I heard him say something about brothers sticking together.’ He raised his chin as if defying Josse to contradict.
In that moment he looked so like Henry II of England that it was unmistakeable. If he had cause to adopt that particular expression that night, Josse thought, then King Richard would have known the truth in that instant even if he had not done so before.
Did it matter? he asked himself. If it helped a grieving boy to get over a terrible period in his life, then would it hurt to let him believe that his royal kinsman had deliberately set out to save his young half-brother’s life? It might well be the truth, in any case..
‘Then,’ he said, reaching out to put an arm round the boy’s shoulders, ‘you’re probably right and he did know.’ Smiling, trying to lighten the intense mood, he said, ‘Lucky for you, young Ninian, that he was there.’
With that the matter was settled. He and Ninian exchanged a deep look, as if sealing a bargain. And he knew that neither of them would refer to it again.
Eighteen
When it was fully dark, Ninian saddled the horses and they rode down to the shore. The seaman with whom Josse had negotiated their passage was waiting, and he and two of his hands helped Ninian settle the horses in the hold. Josse took their packs and went up on deck, where he found a spot up in the stern for himself and Ninian. It was a warm night and a light wind blew steadily from the south-west. The crossing ought to be relatively smooth.
Ninian came up to join him and they leaned on the rail watching the sailors as they prepared to haul in the gangplank and the heavy ropes that had tethered the boat to the quay. They appeared to be waiting for something, and presently some more passengers came hurrying along the shore: a young man and a woman, each carrying a baby. Twins, Josse thought, as the couple came into the circle of light cast by the ship’s lanterns. No wonder the parents look so exhausted. Hoping that the babies would not cry all night and keep him awake, he turned to watch the captain organize the departure.
Before Josse could even try to go to sleep, there was something he had to do. It was strange; he had known for a long time that he could not avoid this obligation, but there had never seemed any urgency to get it done. Until now when, settling down with Ninian beside him as the ship swiftly left the land behind and, sails billowing, set out into the open sea, suddenly he knew the moment was right.
‘Ninian, lad,’ he began, ‘we were talking earlier today about that time when you and your mother and I were together in the house in the woods.’
‘Yes,’ Ninian agreed tentatively.
Josse had asked himself over and over again how he would tell Ninian what he had to know. In the end he had decided on a simple statement of facts. ‘Your mother and I fell in love,’ he said. ‘We lay together and she conceived a child, a little girl who was born the following October.’ He waited but Ninian made no comment; Josse could sense his tension and the boy hardly seemed to be breathing. ‘I did not know about our child for quite a long time,’ he went on. ‘For her own good reasons, your mother did not tell me. I met my daughter — she’s called Meggie — ’ Ninian gave a gasp of recognition and Josse remembered his references to that little girl — ‘when she was sixteen months old and, although she continued to live with her mother out in the forest, she and I have had regular contact ever since.’
There was a long silence. Then Ninian said, ‘Why did you not marry my mother?’
Josse had expected the question. ‘I wanted to and, in a way, so did she, for our love was true and enduring, but she was not willing to abandon the strong voice that called her to her life in the wild, and it was not a life that I could join.’
‘Why not?’
‘She lives with people like her, Ninian. They are not like me.’
‘Are they like me?’ Ninian spoke intently but so softly that Josse had to strain to hear.
‘Your mother is of their kind, as was her mother,’ he said. ‘Mag Hobson, your grandmother, was one of the Great Ones of the forest people, as indeed is your mother. I do not know, lad, but I imagine that your inheritance on the distaff side would make you welcome out in the wild, if you chose to go.’
‘I was looking for my mother when you and I met,’ Ninian said. ‘You did not ask why that was.’
‘That’s true.’ Josse thought back. ‘I had imagined it was because you were concerned about her.’
‘I was only worried after I’d looked for her and been unable to find her. I went looking for her because I wanted to ask if I could go and live with her.’
But you were too late, Josse thought, pain ripping through him. Your mother would have done all she could to persuade you back to the life she thought you ought to lead but, in the end, she would have let her heart rule and given you the best, biggest and most loving welcome any lad ever had.
He did not think it would help either of them to say so.
‘What now?’ he asked gruffly.
‘Now? I do not know.’ Ninian sounded far too world-weary for a boy of fourteen.
‘You could return to Sir Walter,’ Josse suggested. ‘He would be pleased to see you, I’m sure, and you could continue your training with-’
‘No.’ Ninian spoke the single word with utter conviction. ‘Sorry, Josse. I know you are trying to persuade me on down the path my mother envisaged for me, but I don’t want to take it any more.’
‘What do you want?’ Josse hardly dared to ask.
Ninian gave him a very sweet smile. Then, settling down on his folded blanket and wrapping his cloak round him, he said, ‘I’ll tell you tomorrow.’
Josse listened to Ninian’s breathing, deepened by sleep, and wondered why the soporific sound was not making his own eyes heavy. Sleep, though, was far away; quietly he got up and walked along the deck until he was standing directly behind the figurehead up in the prow. He looked at the carved wooden face and torso, faded by years of sun and saltwater. She was bare-breasted, her long hair flowing around her shoulders, and the expression on the strong face was fierce and proud. An image of the black goddess, wrapped in Ninian’s pack, floated into Josse’s mind. Soon she’ll be safe, he thought. Soon we shall ‘May I join you?’ A soft voice spoke beside him.
Turning, Josse saw that it was the young man who had come aboard with his wife and twins. ‘Aye,’ Josse said with a smile. ‘I’d have thought you’d be grabbing some sleep while your babies were quiet,’ he added.
The man returned the smile. ‘Yes, it is true that the presence of young makes sleep a rare commodity.’ There was a short silence. Then he said, ‘You are Josse d’Acquin.’
‘Aye.’ And you, Josse thought instantly, are of the forest people, for they do not use worldly titles but call a man simply by his name. Hard on the heels of that realization came another: his companion might bring word of Joanna.
‘I bring you news that will gladden your heart,’ the man began, ‘although it is not that which you yearn to hear.’
‘Joanna is not… She’s…?’
‘I can add nothing to what you already know,’ the man said, with an air of stopping further questions. ‘I am sorry but that is not why I am here.’
‘You were following me?’
‘Yes. We know you went to Rouen, and Deidre and I — she’s my woman; I’m called Ruis — were sent after you. We’ve been watching you and this afternoon, after you had arranged to cross the narrow seas on this ship, I bought passage for us too.’
‘Why?’
Ruis paused for some time. Then he said, ‘You saw Joanna, both before the great ceremony and on that night when the power was raised.’
‘Aye. I… Aye.’ Josse found it both a joy and a pain to remember and it was hard to speak.
‘You did not lie with her when you met in the cathedral?’
