Meggie, ‘Thank you, clever girl.’
He waited for a moment and then said, ‘We have to think where he’s gone. Meggie has already pointed out that he knows the forest extremely well, and it’s likely he’ll be hiding somewhere nearby, since he’s got to acquire a horse and the obvious place to get one is from here.’ He paused. There was something nagging at him, something he knew he ought to remember, but it remained vague and would not come into focus.
Geoffroi was tugging at his sleeve. ‘Father?’ he asked tentatively.
Josse looked down at him. ‘What is it, son?’
‘Why doesn’t Ninian just come here? He knows we all care about him and that none of us would betray him, no matter what they did to us.’
It was a sensible question and deserved, Josse thought, a proper answer. ‘Remember what I said just now to everyone?’ he asked, crouching down so that he and Geoffroi were eye to eye. ‘That if anyone wishes to avoid the risk of being accused of helping a wanted man, they must leave straight away?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Geoffroi’s worried frown cleared. ‘I understand now. Ninian knows about that too, and he doesn’t want to get us into trouble.’
‘That’s right,’ Josse said.
‘It’s really quite simple, isn’t it?’ Helewise said. ‘Ninian won’t come to us for the help he so desperately needs, so we shall have to take it to him.’
‘Aye,’ Josse agreed heavily, ‘and first we’ll have to find him.’
Josse gathered his household together for the evening meal and, before they sat down to eat food for which nobody appeared to have much appetite, Helewise stood up and rather shyly asked if she might say a prayer.
He looked at her, studying her face in the candlelight. She was pale and drawn, and he wished he could take her in his arms so that each could take comfort in the other. Not yet, he thought. ‘Of course,’ he said with a smile.
‘I know we are faced with a grave problem,’ she said hesitantly, ‘but we should not forget that, because of Meggie and Ninian, who refused to give up, Rosamund has been restored to her family. We should give thanks to God that she was unharmed.’ Closing her eyes, she made a brief, eloquent and clearly heartfelt prayer. Then, with barely a pause, her tone changed. ‘Dear Lord, we beg you to look after Ninian, wherever he is,’ she said earnestly. ‘Keep him safe and warm this night and, in the clear light of tomorrow’s dawn, let him find a way through his difficulties.’ She paused. ‘Let him know that we who love him will not condemn him without cause, and remind him that we believe every man has a right to defend both himself and those he cares for.’ She added some more, but Josse could not make out the words. Then she began the paternoster, and most of the household joined in.
Josse sat in his chair by the hearth. One by one everyone else had gone to bed, but he was restless, his mind too full to allow him to sleep. He had to do something positive to help Ninian, but unless — and until — the young man came home, there was little he could do. He wondered if Meggie had been right when she said with such conviction that Ninian would not flee without saying goodbye to his loved ones. He hoped so.
His thoughts were going round in circles. It was now very late, and he was exhausted; worn out with the exertions and the stress of that long day. Finally, he got up and, trying to move quietly, he set about preparing a pack containing everything a fugitive might want. He raided the battered old chest where Ninian kept his belongings, rolling up a woollen tunic, a close-fitting felt cap, a spare undershirt and two pairs of hose inside a warm cloak. He folded Ninian’s heavy leather tunic around the bundle, fastening it with a belt. He went out to the kitchen, tiptoeing so as not to disturb Gus and Tilly and their children, asleep in the room beyond, and fetched a small, sharp knife suitable for food preparation. From his own experiences, he knew how tricky it was to skin a hare or cut a cabbage when you had nothing smaller than your sword and your dagger. He inspected the family’s food supplies — being largely self-sufficient, they had plenty — and cut off generous slices from the cured shoulder of a pig that Gus had recently slaughtered. He found some apples and half a loaf, then filled a leather skin with fresh water. He packed everything up in his own old campaign bag and set it by the door with the bundle of clothes.
Meggie had reported that Ninian’s horse was in the stable. By morning, he would be well rested, well watered and stuffed with food. Josse thought he might just go out and check that Garnet’s saddle and bridle were to hand, and before he slipped outside he fetched a thick wool blanket from his own bed and rolled it up neatly, tying it with a generous length of fine rope. He took the packed bag with him, to leave ready out in the stable.
He was on his way back across the courtyard when he heard a tiny sound. He stopped instantly, standing utterly still, barely breathing, all his attention concentrated into his hearing. The sound came again. It was a very faint clink of harness; as if someone had hastily bound the metal pieces of their horse’s bridle and not done quite thorough enough a job.
In an old soldier’s reflex, Josse reached down for his sword. It was not there. It was, as he instantly recalled, in its usual place, in the far corner of his hall, stuck into a barrel of sawdust to keep away the rust. He had his hunting knife in its scabbard on his belt, but it was some days since he had honed it. Nevertheless, he drew it and felt a little more confident for the familiar shape of its horn handle in his hand.
He waited. Despite the chill night air, sweat broke out on his back.
Somebody else had been wakeful that night.
Up at the Old Manor, where Rohaise and the servants had been busy for days preparing for a lightning visit from the king and his party, the mood between Leofgar and his wife was delicate. One of Gervase de Gifford’s senior deputies had arrived late in the evening with the news that Rosamund was safe and on her way home. He had also reported that the king had been injured in an attack and now lay in the Hawkenlye infirmary with one of his companions, whose wound had been more serious.
‘Are we still to expect the king?’ Leofgar had demanded. ‘My wife has made everything ready, as you see.’
The deputy shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’ He grinned briefly. ‘They don’t tell the likes of me about the doings of kings, sir.’
‘Where did this attack take place?’ Leofgar asked.
‘Close by St Edmund’s Chapel,’ the deputy said. He leaned closer, eyes bright with the thrill of spreading a juicy tale. ‘They say it was a madman with a mighty sword and a knife, and he’s also wanted for the murder of some other lord. He had a woman with him, and the pair of them vanished into the wildwood like a pair of spirits!’ Mastering his excitement, he added in a more sombre tone, ‘Seems this madman was trying to defend the little lass.’
‘He escaped?’ Leofgar said.
‘He did,’ the deputy replied grimly. ‘The sheriff’s organizing a manhunt, and tomorrow my lads and I will be searching the road from Tonbridge up northwards over the downs. Keep your eyes open, sir, and make sure to lock and bar your doors. If you hear or see anything suspicious, we’ll be back in the morning and you can report it then. Your family and your household are all safe indoors, I assume?’
‘Yes. My son and my daughter are in bed, and the servants are in their quarters. What does the man look like?’ Leofgar asked.
The deputy shrugged. ‘We don’t have much of a description. He’s in his twenties, quite tall, lightly built, but strong. Bareheaded, brown hair down to his shoulders.’ He let out a gusty sigh. ‘Could apply to a hundred men.’ He turned to go. ‘Don’t forget to lock up, now.’
Left alone, Leofgar and Rohaise had rejoiced for Rosamund and her family. They discussed the attack on the king, reluctant to come to the conclusion that both of them suspected.
‘You told me that Ninian and Meggie were missing,’ Rohaise said slowly. ‘Then Rosamund turns up, in the company of the king and this other man who was also wounded, and the two men are attacked by a man who has a woman with him.’
‘So you’re saying this madman, as the deputy called him, must therefore be Ninian?’ Leofgar made an impatient sound. ‘It’s quite a conclusion to draw on slim evidence, Rohaise.’
Rohaise was pacing up and down. ‘Yes, I know,’ she snapped. ‘But you must admit that the description could be him.’
‘It could be a hundred men, as the deputy pointed out!’ Leofgar flashed back. Then, seeing his wife’s distraught face, he went over to her and took her in his arms.
‘I’m probably wrong,’ she whispered, ‘but what if I’m not? If it is Ninian, and if he’s on the run because he attacked the king and his companion, then there’s one place he might come… and that’s right here.’
Leofgar nodded. ‘Because he wouldn’t leave without seeing Little Helewise.’
