by Alys Clare
Meggie and Faruq hurriedly dismounted, and Faruq quickly secured the horses, looping their reins around the branch of a beech tree. The mare, whickering a greeting to her stable mate, moved over to the tethered horses. She was lame, favouring her right foreleg.
Faruq muttered something; words of fear and anxiety, from his tone, in a language Meggie didn’t understand. The meaning of the lame mare, her stained shoulder and the broken rein was only too clear. Together they began searching.
It was Meggie who found Hadil. She lay half asleep, or perhaps half conscious, in soft grass a few paces back from the road. Her face was shaded by a mass of ferns, which concealed much of her body. It was only the scarlet fringe of the shawl she had wrapped around her that had caught Meggie’s eye.
She called out to Faruq. Even as he came pounding over to her, she was already crouching at Hadil’s side. She took one of the woman’s hands in both of hers. The flesh was cool, but not cold. Hastily Meggie’s fingers went to the upper side of the wrist, searching for the pulse of life that beat there. At first she couldn’t detect it. Then she moved her fingers slightly and there it was. Slow, but quite steady. She said calmly, ‘She’s alive.’
Faruq gave a sort of sob, and began a long, soft, monotone muttering that Meggie guessed was a prayer. With quick hands she began feeling for injuries. There was a large bump on the right side of Hadil’s forehead. Her right arm was very swollen; it was either broken or badly sprained. There was a cuff at the end of the sleeve of her soft white undergarment and already this tight band had made the hand puff up alarmingly. Unable to fathom how the cuff fastened, Meggie drew out her little knife and cut it. It seemed to her – although she knew she was probably being over-optimistic – that straight away the hand began to subside. She ran her fingers up and down Hadil’s forearm again, then, gently laying it across the woman’s breast, resumed her examination.
She was very aware of Faruq standing over her. He had finished his prayers and she could hear his rapid breathing. He had the good sense to keep quiet and let her get on with her task.
After a while, she sat back on her heels and said, ‘She has probably broken her arm; one or both of the bones below the elbow. I can treat it, but not here, although I can make her a little more comfortable so that riding won’t be too painful.’
He nodded. ‘What else?’
Meggie looked down at Hadil. ‘She banged her head, probably when her horse fell, as both her injuries and the horse’s are on the same side.’ She bent down close to Hadil, and said gently, ‘Hadil? Hadil? Can you hear me? It’s Meggie, from the abbey, and Faruq is here with me.’
Hadil’s eyes fluttered open. She looked at Meggie, and at Faruq behind her, and gave a groan. She said one word, very sharply – Faruq gave a gasp – then closed her eyes again.
‘What did she say?’ Meggie asked him in a whisper.
Faruq was shaking his head. ‘I will not tell you.’ His face wore a strange expression: half disapproving, half awestruck. ‘I had no idea she knew such words,’ he muttered.
Meggie chuckled. ‘It appears she’s not very pleased that we’ve caught her up.’
He, too, laughed briefly. ‘I believe you are right.’
‘I don’t think she knocked herself out,’ Meggie said, ‘because it looks as if she was able to crawl from wherever she fell – which must have been on or close to the track – to this well-shaded spot. But she’s had a blow to the head, and she’s hurt her arm quite badly, so what we must do is take her somewhere so that she can rest and be well looked after. We’ll—’
‘I’m not going back to that abbey.’ Hadil’s eyes were still closed but she spoke with total authority.
‘Mother, you must,’ Faruq said. ‘You need rest and care, and we—’
‘I will not go to the abbey,’ Hadil repeated, quite a lot more loudly.
‘But—’
‘No!’ she shouted. Meggie’s ears rang with the reverberations.
‘Hadil, why don’t you want to go to Hawkenlye Abbey?’ she asked gently.
Hadil’s eyes flew open. ‘They are kind, and they are skilful, I have no doubt. But they pray, and their God is with them always, and they are not of my faith.’
‘Isn’t he your God too?’ Meggie asked.
But Hadil’s only response was to close her eyes once more.
Meggie looked up at Faruq. ‘What do you think?’
He straightened up, walked a few paces away and beckoned to her. ‘If we take her back to the nuns,’ he said very quietly once she stood beside him, ‘she’ll only try to get away again.’
‘She’ll find it hard to ride with that damaged arm,’ Meggie observed.
Faruq gave a sort of snort. ‘If you think that’ll hold her back, you don’t know my mother.’
Meggie nodded. She was thinking that, even if somehow they managed to shut Hadil up in the abbey so that escape became a physical impossibility (and it would be all but impossible to persuade Abbess Caliste to agree to that), that wasn’t the only important consideration: far more crucial was Hadil’s state of mind. To imprison her against her will would be very bad for her, in virtually every way Meggie could think of.
There was, however, another possibility.
Later, when they had all had a bite to eat and Meggie had bound up Hadil’s arm as best she could, they were ready to set out. After considerable thought, they had decided that Meggie should ride Auban again, with Hadil sitting in front of her, and Faruq remain mounted on his black gelding; the grey mare, limping quite badly, would follow on a leading rein. Auban was sturdy and his pace was smooth and comfortable; furthermore, as Meggie assured Faruq several times, he wasn’t the sort of horse to shy at shadows and be spooked by sudden sounds in the undergrowth. Short of making poor Hadil walk, he was the best they were going to do.
Between them, they got Hadil mounted. The pain made her bite her lips so hard that they bled. Meggie, suffering with her, knew better than to flood her with sympathy; the woman had clearly made up her mind not to cry out, and so Meggie supported her in silence. Only when they were once more on the move, retracing their steps back towards the abbey, did she say quietly in Hadil’s ear, ‘The pain will lessen soon. It was a pity we had to move you, but unavoidable.’
Hadil nodded. After a pause, she said, ‘Already it is more manageable, and I am able to release my lip from the clench of my teeth.’ She gave a very short laugh, quickly curtailed.
‘I will make you comfortable once we reach our destination,’ Meggie said. ‘I shall prepare a drink that will both help you sleep and ease the pain.’
‘A miracle worker, then,’ Hadil remarked wryly.
‘A herbalist,’ Meggie corrected. ‘And, before you ask, no, we’re not going to Hawkenlye Abbey.’
‘I see.’ Even pain and distress couldn’t remove the note of satisfaction from Hadil’s voice.
‘Not that you deserve such consideration, mind,’ Meggie couldn’t help adding. ‘You brought this entirely on yourself by creeping out and running off on your own.’
To her surprise, Hadil nodded again. ‘I know,’ she said meekly. Meggie thought she’d finished but, after a moment, she went on, ‘I realize you think I’m a foolish old woman who has caused a lot of trouble and anxiety and who really ought to know better.’ Meggie, who quite agreed, refrained from saying so. ‘All I can say in my own defence,’ Hadil concluded in a suddenly sharp, hissed whisper, ‘is that you have no idea what is at stake.’
From then on, she didn’t utter another word.
When they reached the House in the Woods, Meggie realized straight away that there had recently been a big crowd of people there. The courtyard still bore signs of many horses, although Will was doing his best to clear up, and the grass either side of the path up to the house was flattened and crushed by the passage of booted feet.
Ninian must have heard her talking to Will, for he came hurrying out to greet her.
She cut short his questions. ‘Is Helewise here?’
‘No, she’s gone to the Sanctuary.’ He came to stand closer. ‘We had a band of visitors, last night,’ he went on in a low voice. His eyes flicked to Hadil, then back to Meggie. ‘Some of the forest bowmen, and they may well return tonight. Helewise, I think, prefers a quieter location, and I reckon she’ll stay at the Sanctuary. For now,’ he added.
Until this is all over and Father comes back, Meggie thought silently. For a moment, eyes on Ninian’s, she knew he was thinking exactly the same.
‘I have a patient for her!’ she said. She’d spoken too brightly, but she sensed Ninian understood the reason. She found it so hard to think of Josse out on the road somewhere, and she was quite sure it was the same for Ninian. ‘In fact, the tranquillity of the Sanctuary would be the very best place, so we’ll head on there straight away.’
‘Of course,’ Ninian said. He glanced at Faruq, sitting on his black horse just inside the courtyard gates. He hadn’t said a word. ‘If you’re all going,’ he added, ‘you’ll be needing some more supplies, so please tell Helewise I’ll send some over in the morning.’
‘I will, and thank you.’ Before he could say anything else, she gave him a smile, turned Auban and set out on the track to the Sanctuary.
Helewise was alone at the Sanctuary. The day had brought its usual quota of visitors, especially around noon, when empty bellies rumbled with hunger. Now, with time to spare – she doubted if anyone else would turn up today – she was busy washing bowls, sorting the pots and little bottles of herbal preparations and the sachets of dried herbs for the remedies taken in the form of hot drinks, and about to fetch more water from the stream. I need some more firewood, too, she thought. There was plenty to draw on, but the main supply was a short distance from the clearing around the Sanctuary.
She heard a noise. A horse … two, no, three horses, approaching from the depths of the forest.
She straightened up.
It was not that she was afraid, or even particularly apprehensive. But she was a woman, alone, and the nearest friendly soul was quite a long way away; well out of range of a shout or a scream for help.
‘Stop that,’ she commanded herself aloud.
A thick-set horse with an auburn coat, a long creamy mane and a friendly expression came into the clearing. Astride it sat, or rather slumped, a veiled woman in a dark gown and a brilliantly coloured shawl, and behind her – holding her up, in fact, as Helewise quickly realized – was Meggie. There was another horse behind the chestnut, ridden by a black-haired young man with surprisingly light eyes who was leading a grey, but Helewise barely spared him a glance.
‘This woman’s name is Hadil,’ Meggie called out, ‘and she has hurt her right arm. It may be broken but I’m not sure. She’s in a great deal of pain. She also suffered quite a bad blow to her forehead, also on the right side.’
Helewise nodded her understanding. She went to the stocky horse’s left side, holding out her arms to receive the semi-conscious woman. Then suddenly someone else was beside her, strong arms helping to take the woman’s weight as Meggie eased her out of the saddle. ‘That’s Faruq,’ Meggie said. ‘He’s Hadil’s son.’
As soon as it was safe to let go of Hadil, Meggie leapt down, and between them the three of them bore Hadil into the Sanctuary. There was a bed made up ready beside the hearth, and gently they laid Hadil on it. Helewise drew up the covers, tucking her in up to the waist. Then, meeting Meggie’s eyes, she said quietly, ‘Best to see to the arm now?’
‘Yes,’ Meggie said firmly. ‘She fainted, I think, some way back, so with any luck we can treat the injury before she recovers consciousness.’
Helewise heard the young man give a soft sound of distress. Turning to him, she said, ‘Could you help, do you think?’ It would be far better, she thought, to give him something to do.
‘Of course!’ he said instantly. ‘Anything!’
‘I was just about to fetch more water, from the stream over there.’ She indicated. ‘The pails are beside the door. When you’ve done so, please could you fill that pot—’ she pointed again – ‘and suspend it over the fire to heat up? Then more firewood, from the pile along the track over there, because we’ll need to keep your mother warm.’
He was up and away before he’d even given himself time to answer.
Meggie had already pushed the woman’s clothing back from the injured arm and was now running her hands up and down it, feeling for damage. ‘I believe I can feel a break,’ she said quietly. ‘What do you think?’
Trying to probe along the bones of the forearm without causing the patient even more pain, Helewise found what Meggie had found. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Just there.’
Meggie was on her feet, searching along the Sanctuary’s tidy shelves. ‘The splints are at the far end, lowest shelf,’ Helewise said.
The next part was the worst. They had to straighten the damaged bone and align it with the one that ran beside it; if they failed, their patient would end up with a crooked, weak arm that would not be very much use to her. The process, however, could not be done painlessly.
Hadil awoke from her faint, screamed very loudly for several heartbeats, and then as quickly subsided. She had passed out.
Now Meggie and Helewise worked as swiftly as they could. Meggie reset the bone, Helewise verified that it was as good as they could make it, then they applied splints, padding and bandaging. Meggie placed the arm diagonally across Hadil’s chest and bound it in place. They settled her against several pillows and covered her with as many blankets as they could find, for pain and shock had made her shiver with cold.
Silence fell.
From the doorway, Faruq said tremulously, ‘Is she all right?’
Helewise got up, her heart wrung with pity. She wondered how long he’d been standing there. Poor young man, to hear his mother cry out so! ‘She will be all right now,’ she said, taking hold of his hand and then, for that didn’t seem to be enough, enfolding him in a hug. ‘Meggie has seen to her poor arm,’ she went on, holding him tightly, her voice calm and soothing, ‘and presently, when she wakes, she shall have a drink that will make her sleep and help with her discomfort.’
For a few moments he had accepted her sympathy. Then, as dignity reasserted itself, he disengaged himself. He looked at her and she noticed how he stood up straighter, squaring his strong shoulders. He said, ‘My thanks to you, my lady, for all that you have done to help her,’ and gave her a low and graceful bow.
‘I’m not “my lady”, I’m just Helewise,’ she said with a smile. ‘This is the Sanctuary, and that’s what we do here. Help people, that is. Now,’ she went on briskly, for he seemed to be struggling to control his emotion, ‘what about using some of that wood you just fetched to build up the fire?’
Meggie prepared a herbal infusion for Hadil, setting out chamomile, valerian, linden flowers and a pinch of the poppy that she reserved for severe pain. Hadil’s face was grey, and the manner in which she kept shifting on the straw mattress told Meggie that, however she sat or lay, she couldn’t get comfortable.
Helewise made a thick broth of vegetables, barley and some pieces of bacon, and there were chunks of bread to dip in the rich liquor. Meggie persuaded Hadil to eat a few mouthfuls, and encouraged her to drink some water. But then, too soon – for Meggie knew she’d barely eaten all day – she pushed Meggie’s hand holding the wooden spoon away, turning her face into her pillows.
‘Sleep?’ Meggie asked softly.
Hadil’s eyes flew to her, an expression on her face that suggested she’d just been offered the keys to paradise. ‘Oh, yes,’ she whispered.
Meggie strained the infusion into a small pottery cup. It was cool now, and Hadil gulped it down, making a face at the bitterness. ‘I’m not going to ask what’s in it to make it taste so terrible,’ she said, managing a very small smile.
Meggie was impressed by her courage. ‘Best not to know,’ she replied lightly. Then, leaning close, she added, ‘But I do know what I’m doing, I promise.’
Hadil watched her for a short while. Then, with a sigh, she let her eyes close. Meggie sat beside her for some time. When she was quite sure her patient was asleep, she got up, stretched, and announced she was going out to make sure the horses were secure for the night.
Faruq leaped to his feet. ‘I will do that,’ he said gravely. ‘You have earned your rest.’
‘Thank you, but I need some fresh air,’ Meggie said. ‘Also, I think I …’ hastily she corrected herself, ‘I think we ought to look at your mother’s mare.’
‘I have already done so,’ he said. ‘I think it is not a serious injury, and requires little more than rest.’
‘She can rest here, as can her mistress,’ Helewise said calmly. She glanced at Meggie. ‘It’s a pity Geoffroi isn’t here, for he’d no doubt have the right poultice prepared and slapped on in an instant.’
‘My brother,’ Meggie explained to Faruq. ‘He’s gone to … er, he’s away, with my father.’
‘Then there is nothing to do now but make sure they will not wander off,’ Faruq said. ‘This I will do.’
‘They won’t,’ Helewise said softly as they heard his receding footfalls outside. ‘Geoffroi made that little stockade for me, and he doesn’t make fences that fall down under a little pressure.’
Meggie smiled. ‘I know,’ she agreed. ‘I think, however, that Faruq wants to do something; in return for us helping his mother, I mean.’
Helewise looked at her affectionately. ‘I think you are right,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry! In the morning, I shall find plenty of tasks he can help us with.’
Some fifty miles to the north-east, Josse and his small party were also settling down for the night. As Meggie had surmised, they had indeed crossed the estuary that day, taking ship late in the afternoon from the Hoo peninsula over to the Essex shore. They had been ferried by a small craft whose sole purpose was the transporting of human, horse and other cargo, and Josse told himself that nobody had taken any notice of three more passengers. He, Yves and Geoffroi wore good wool cloaks, but they were old and well worn. They were also sufficiently voluminous to cover both their garments and the weapons they carried. Little could be done to disguise the fine quality of their horses, however; Josse had made sure the three of them and their mounts went on board the ferry last and stood right at the stern for the crossing, in the hope that they would go largely unnoticed.