Abbess Caliste, he knew, would have her own good reasons for not being present, and it was not for him to judge her. Cross with himself, he increased his pace. ‘Come on.’
Gervase tapped on the door of the abbess’s room, and her soft voice bade them enter. Observing her, Josse felt even guiltier over his brief disloyal thought. Her table was groaning under its load of heavy, bound ledgers and piles of vellum, and her eyes were bloodshot and ringed with the grey of extreme fatigue.
‘Sir Josse, my lord sheriff, I deeply regret that I was not able to be there when the poor man was brought in,’ she said, getting to her feet to greet them. ‘I have been praying for his soul, and a mass will be said for him.’
She did not, Josse observed, give any excuse to exonerate herself, as well she might have done. ‘You are busy, my lady,’ he said, indicating the table.
‘The king’s agents were here two days ago,’ she replied tonelessly.
There was no need for her to explain. ‘Will the abbey survive?’ he asked.
The lines of anxiety in her lovely face deepened, and she shrugged. Then, with a lift of her chin, she said, ‘If I have anything to do with it, yes.’
Touched, Josse went forward and briefly took her hand. ‘We have a little surplus at the House in the Woods,’ he murmured.
She looked up at him with a smile. ‘You have your own people to think of, dear Sir Josse. They are your responsibility, just as the abbey is mine.’
But I am not subject to the iron fist of a greedy and selfish king, Josse thought. Nobody has come to Hawkenlye Manor to demand we hand over all our produce and all our income, to be given back to us if we do as we are told.
He could not, of course, say it aloud. Gervase was an old friend, and Josse would have trusted Caliste with his life, but such a comment was treason and walls had ears. Even — or perhaps especially — abbey walls.
He leaned closer to the abbess. ‘We have enough,’ he whispered. ‘If you ever reach your wits’ end, we are there.’
He was still holding her hand, and now she gave his a firm squeeze. ‘Thank you,’ she breathed. ‘I know.’
He let go of her hand and, embarrassed suddenly, stepped back to stand beside Gervase.
‘So, the dead man,’ Abbess Caliste said, sitting down in her great chair. It seemed to Josse as if she had briefly stepped out of her role as head of the abbey and now had re-entered it, for all at once it was undoubtedly she who held authority in the little room. Helewise, your successor was wisely chosen, he thought. Abbess Caliste was speaking, and he made himself pay attention.
‘You do not know who he is, I imagine, or else you would have called him by his name,’ she said.
‘Correct,’ Gervase said. ‘We can say, however, that he is a man of quality, judging by his clothes and his general appearance.’
‘I understand that he was found out to the west of here, close by the river.’
‘Yes, my lady,’ Gervase said. ‘There is a track that leads along the river valley and then on to the hamlet of Hartfield, where the ground begins to rise up to the open heathland of the forest. It appears that the dead man made camp in the place where he died, although of course it is impossible to say in which direction he had been travelling.’ He glanced at Josse. ‘He rode a good-sized horse and he had someone with him, for there were signs that two people had lain beside the little fire that he made.’
Abbess Caliste did not reply. Her elbows were on the table, and she had propped her chin on her clasped hands. Her expression was serene, but Josse had the impression that, behind the calm features, her mind was working fast.
He was right. After a short time, she said, ‘Two people and a horse spent the night in that camp. One is now dead. The horse and the other man have disappeared. It seems there are two possible explanations: one, the second person killed the man and rode away on the horse. Two, someone else arrived, fought the man in the camp and, having laid him out, left him for dead and rode away with the other person who was in the camp.’
Gervase was looking puzzled. ‘Why should there have been anyone there besides the two who fought?’ he demanded. ‘There was only one horse there overnight and, if two people had rested there, surely there would have been a second one?’
‘The pair might have ridden on one horse,’ the abbess said.
Gervase muttered under his breath and Josse caught the words blasted Templars again. Addressing the abbess, Gervase said, ‘As I said, why raise the possibility of a third person? I-’
Josse understood. He flashed an anxious glance at Abbess Caliste and said, ‘She’s thinking of Rosamund. Aren’t you, my lady?’
Slowly, the abbess nodded. ‘I am. Somebody took her away, but we know she did not have her own horse with her. Unless her abductor brought along a mount for her, then he must have borne her on his own horse. They rode off westwards, heading for some unknown destination, and, overcome by darkness, they stopped to rest for the night. Some time during the night or the next day, someone else came across them. He attacked the man and the two of them fought. The man was killed, and — and-’ She stopped, her face pale.
‘And took Rosamund?’ Josse asked softly. ‘If, indeed, it was she who slept beside the camp fire that night, then where is she now?’
Abbess Caliste held his eyes. ‘I do not know, Sir Josse,’ she said. ‘It is little enough to go on, but it would seem we have nothing else. If we agree that it may have happened in that way, does that not give us a focus in our search for her?’
‘Of course it does!’ Gervase said eagerly. Josse could sense the energy building up in him, bursting for release. ‘We must gather all our men together and head out to the west, towards the Ashdown Forest. We-’
But Josse interrupted. ‘He was taking her in that direction,’ he said gently. ‘The man who abducted her. It does not necessarily follow that whoever now has her has the same objective in mind.’
The horror that lurked beneath his words overcame him briefly. He put a hand to his face, hoping to hide his expression. He was too slow. Abbess Caliste’s voice said calmly, ‘Sir Josse, we must maintain our strength and go on trusting that she will be found safe and unharmed. We are praying for her constantly, and God will hear us.’
He looked up. There was such certainty, such absolute faith in her expression that for a moment he believed her. Then he thought of that lonely, desolate spot where the dead man had been found, and of the miles of empty countryside that stretched away all around it. It was the end of October, and the nights were cold. Rosamund was little more than a child.
He managed a smile. ‘I am comforted, my lady. Meanwhile, we must do everything we can to help ensure this happy outcome.’
Gervase’s impatience had got the better of him. ‘You must excuse me, my lady,’ he said, bowing to Abbess Caliste, ‘for I have much to do if we are to pick up the trail while there yet remains any freshness in it. Now, in addition, there is the problem of how we are to discover the identity of the dead man.’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Go, my lord.’
‘I also must leave you,’ Josse said, backing out in Gervase’s wake. ‘I wish to break the news of this death to my household before they hear it from others and — er, and fear the worst.’
‘I understand,’ the abbess said. ‘Give them my love and tell them they are in my thoughts and in my prayers.’
He bowed. ‘I will.’ Then he hurried away.
Josse watched as Gervase shouted instructions to his men. Then they all rode off, the ground vibrating under the pounding hooves. He mounted Alfred, hurried out through the abbey’s main gates and, setting a good, fast pace, took the slope up towards the dense woodland at a canter and headed off beneath the trees. Very soon the track became too narrow and overgrown to ride, and he dismounted, leading Alfred behind him.
He met Helewise on the path that led from the hut in the clearing. She was walking towards him and drew to a halt as he came into view.
‘Josse!’
He was gratified that she looked both relieved and, he thought, happy to see him. ‘Aye. I’ve come from the abbey.’ He told her about the discovery of the body, explaining, as delicately as he could, Abbess Caliste’s theory concerning Rosamund.
She took in his words without speaking. She squeezed her eyes shut at one point, and he feared she would break down, but she regained control. ‘Thank you for coming to tell me,’ she said after a moment. ‘Tiphaine has returned to the abbey — she was heading for the vale, so that’s probably why you missed each other — and she
