by Alys Clare
He knew the answer to his question even as she spoke. ‘No, of course not, she—’
She had understood, as of course she would. She led him inside, closed the door and pushed him down on to the stool beside the hearth. She picked up an earthenware mug and, tipping into it a handful of something from a jar on a shelf, poured on hot water. She stirred it, blew in it and handed it to him. ‘Drink.’ He obeyed her. ‘Now, tell me.’
He did as he was told. He had no idea what she had given him, but he trusted her. Rightly, for the herbal concoction had already calmed him. ‘Rosamund hasn’t come home,’ he said. Then his fear came galloping back, and he burst out, ‘It’s dark, she’s out in the forest and she’s barely more than a child!’
‘Hush,’ she soothed him. He glanced up at her tense face. She muttered something under her breath and then said, ‘I walked back to the House in the Woods with her late this afternoon. We were almost there when she saw you and said she’d run on and go the rest of the way with you.’
‘You let her go on alone?’ Suddenly, he was furious.
‘She wasn’t alone, she’d just seen you!’ she flashed back, her own anger rising alongside his. ‘I watched as she caught you up, then I turned round and came back here.’
Realization struck them simultaneously. ‘It wasn’t you, was it?’ she whispered. Her face had gone white.
Mutely, he shook his head.
She sank down on to the floor beside him and reached out for the mug he held. She took a sip, then handed it back. ‘It looked like you,’ she muttered. ‘Are you absolutely sure? Could it be that you didn’t hear her hurrying up behind you? You did have your back to us . . .’
He thought hard, running through his movements that afternoon and early evening. There was, however, no real need; he knew full well he’d still been far from home as dusk fell.
‘This afternoon I was fishing on the Teise,’ he said. ‘I was miles away, and it took me ages to get back. I caught a trout,’ he added absently.
‘So you would have arrived home from the opposite direction,’ she said. He watched her fierce concentration as she worked it out. ‘Rosamund and I were approaching from the west, and you were coming from the east. It can’t have been you she saw.’
He pounced on her words. ‘You just said it looked like you,’ he cried. ‘You must have seen this man too!’
Slowly, she nodded. ‘Yes, but Rosamund said, “There’s Ninian,” and I suppose I just took her word for it that it was you.’ A sob broke out of her, quickly suppressed. ‘I should have looked more carefully! I should have gone on with her and handed her over to you! To him, I mean,’ she corrected herself. ‘Whoever he was.’
Whoever he was, Ninian thought. Who was he? Oh, dear God, and what did he want with Rosamund?
He twisted around and put his arms around Meggie, pulling her close. ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ he said. He felt her resistance. ‘It wasn’t,’ he repeated, ‘and you are not to waste any more time on blaming yourself, because that’ll take your mind off what you ought to be doing, which is helping me work out what happened and where we’re going to find her.’ He realized he was yelling. ‘Sorry,’ he said quietly.
She pulled away from him, pushed back her hair and met his eyes. He saw a flash of humour in hers, there and gone in a moment. ‘You’re so much the elder brother,’ she observed. ‘I’m helping you.’ She snorted. Then her face clouded and she said, ‘Where do we start?’
‘Describe this man,’ he commanded.
She closed her eyes, and he guessed she was picturing him. ‘About your height and build, wearing a dark leather tunic and a short cloak with a hood. You’ve got a leather jerkin,’ she added, her eyes blinking open and fixing intently on his.
‘Yes, I have,’ he agreed. He waited.
‘At first he had his back to us,’ she went on, ‘and he was walking in the direction of the house.’ Her eyes were shut again, the lids screwed up tightly as if by this effort she would make herself remember more. Suddenly, she relaxed, slumping against him. ‘That’s all,’ she said. ‘I saw someone, Rosamund said it was you, I believed her. I didn’t really study him. He was among the trees and I didn’t have a clear view of him, and I—’
Gently, he took hold of her hand. ‘Enough,’ he said softly.
He had the clear impression she was about to start piling blame on herself again and that wasn’t going to help. Still holding her hand, he got to his feet and pulled her up beside him.
‘Come on,’ he said.
Her eyes in the dim light were huge, the pupils wide. ‘Where are we going?’
‘I’m taking you to the House in the Woods. Then I’m going to look for Rosamund.’
‘I don’t need you to take me anywhere!’ she snapped. ‘I know my way through this forest far better than you do and I won’t go astray.’ She was reaching down into the corner as she spoke, and he thought she was picking up the bag of provisions and clean linen that she always took with her when she went to stay in the hut.
‘Indeed you do,’ he agreed, ‘but Rosamund is missing, perhaps taken by this stranger who looks like me. I won’t risk the safety of another of the family, so I—’
She did not let him finish. She spun round, and he saw that, far from picking up her old leather bag, she had a sword in her hands. It was only a short sword, little more than a long knife, but the candle light glinted off its edge and he could see she kept it very well honed.
He took an involuntary step back. ‘You don’t—’
Again, she interrupted him. ‘I don’t know how to use this? Don’t patronize me, Ninian. My mother and I lived here in the wilds for years together, and I didn’t know about this weapon until long after she’d gone. She would have been able to use it, make no mistake, and I can too.’ She held the sword firmly in front of her, the knuckles of her hands white as she gripped the hilt.
She saw his face, and slowly she lowered her blade. He said, so quietly that he was surprised she heard, ‘She was my mother too.’
The sword fell on the floor. She was in his arms, and he felt her shake as she sobbed. Then she pulled away, picked up the sword again and said, ‘Go. I’ll make for the house, and I’ll use all my senses to search for any traces of her. Come back when you can.’
He looked at her set expression and realized there was no point in arguing with her. Usually, she looked like Josse, but as she stood there in the little hut there was so much of their mother in her that Ninian felt his heart tear.
He turned away, let himself out of the hut and raced back up the track to where he had left his horse.
Josse could not remember when he had last felt so weary. He and Gus had split up soon after leaving the house, and they had been searching all night. Occasionally, Josse had heard Gus in the distance, crashing through the undergrowth and always calling, calling, her name. Once or twice they had bumped into each other.
Now dawn was beginning to brighten the sky in the east. He and Gus were riding, slowly and with their heads down, back to the House in the Woods. Neither of them had seen any sign of Rosamund.
They were approaching from the forest and, as the area of cleared trees around the house came into view, Josse saw a cloaked figure standing perfectly still on the edge of the path. He did not for an instant believe they had found Rosamund, for he had immediately recognized his daughter. He and Gus drew rein, and Josse slipped off Alfred’s back. He was about to run to Meggie and take her in his arms, but something in the quality of her stillness stopped him.
He handed Alfred’s reins to Gus, exchanging a warning glance with him. Gus, who, like all the household, was well used to Meggie and her strange ways, gave a brief grin and nodded. Josse turned back to Meggie and waited.
After some moments she said quietly, ‘Rosamund was here. I can feel something of her . . .’
‘She was almost home, then!’ Josse exclaimed. ‘She—’
Meggie put up her hand, and he stopped. She smiled at him. ‘Of course, you
don’t know,’ she murmured. ‘I walked back with her,’ she went on. ‘When we reached the bend in the path back there –’ she pointed – ‘Rosamund spotted Ninian, and she ran on to catch up with him. I turned and headed back to the hut.’ She drew a shaky breath. ‘Only, it wasn’t Ninian. He was nowhere near the house at that time.’
Josse was trying to make himself believe the unbelievable. ‘So someone was pretending to be Ninian with the purpose of abducting her,’ he said slowly. There was a gasp from Gus, quickly suppressed, but Meggie regarded him with solemn eyes and slowly nodded.
‘Abducted. Yes,’ she said. ‘It is terrible, but I believe we will serve her better if we accept the fact and act accordingly.’
‘We will return to the house,’ Josse began, hardly knowing what he was saying, ‘and—’
Gus interrupted him. ‘May I say something?’ he asked apologetically.
‘Of course!’ Josse said.
Gus turned to Meggie. ‘You just said you could feel her here.’ He sounded embarrassed, as if this brush with Meggie’s mysterious powers was a little too close for comfort. ‘Can you – that is, does this place tell you anything else?’
Meggie looked at him, her head on one side. ‘I was completing my examination when you rode up,’ she replied. ‘Rosamund came running up the path here –’ she pointed – ‘and someone heavier and with bigger feet was here –’ again, she indicated – ‘and he had been standing here for some time.’
‘That must be the man she mistook for Ninian!’ Josse exclaimed. ‘You’re sure it was a man, Meggie?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. I, too, saw him, although only fleetingly, and he was too tall and broad for a woman. Also—’ She broke off, frowning.
‘Yes?’ Josse prompted.
She met his eyes. ‘The imprint of this other person is quite different from Rosamund’s,’ she said shortly. ‘Don’t ask me to explain –’ Josse wouldn’t have dreamt of doing so – ‘you’ll just have to take my word for it.’
‘Can you tell anything else about him?’ Gus asked nervously. ‘Was he – er, was he good?’ The light was still dim, but even so Josse could see the blush that stained the younger man’s face. ‘I mean—’
‘It’s all right, Gus, I know what you mean,’ Meggie said gently. ‘You’re asking if I think this man’s going to harm her. My answer is that I don’t know.’ She paused. ‘I don’t feel an immediate threat from the place where he stood, that’s for sure, but if a stranger lies in wait and takes a girl away from her family, then that in itself is a threat.’
She reasoned well, Josse thought, although how she knew the things she knew was quite unfathomable. The echoes of her words rang in his ears, and he shook his head to dispel them; standing there in awe at his daughter’s powers wasn’t going to help Rosamund.
He took Alfred’s reins from Gus and, holding out his other hand to Meggie, set off up the track towards the house. Gus fell in behind. ‘We shall report to the others,’ Josse said firmly, ‘and see if they have any news. We shall eat and drink, and then I shall ride down to Tonbridge, find Dominic at Gervase’s house and tell both of them that Dominic’s child is missing.’
Quite how he would find the words to do that, Josse did not know. He felt Meggie’s cool hand squeeze his own. She knew exactly how he felt and was trying to give him comfort. He turned and gave her a smile.
Helewise had not slept. The house seemed very empty – Josse, Ninian and Gus were searching out in the forest and, soon after they had gone, Will and his woman, Ella, had slipped away. As they left, Will murmured to Helewise that they would comb the ground around the house. They had not returned.
Helewise had drifted to the kitchen and, rolling up her sleeves, fixed her mind on helping Tilly prepare food. Sooner or later the search parties would return, hopefully with Rosamund. Everyone would be hungry and cold. Tilly kept the fire stoked, and the kitchen grew almost too hot. When they had cooked everything there was to cook, washed the pans and the utensils and tidied them away, Helewise and Tilly sat on either side of the fire and waited.
As the first light of dawn appeared, Helewise ceased her silent prayers and thought about her son and his wife. Rosamund was their third child, a girl after two sons, and she was just eleven years old. Dominic and Paradisa loved all their children but, with the two boys Ralf and Hugo now living in another household as they trained for their adult roles, Rosamund was very much the focus of her parents’ attention. Not that it was spoiling her, for she was an unaffected, affectionate girl with a keen sense of humour that, probably the result of being little sister to two robust brothers, dipped very readily to the vulgar. She was also graceful, gifted with attractive colouring and very beautiful.
Where are you, child? Helewise asked silently. If you are able, come home to those who love you. If you cannot, hear me now and know that we will find you.
She sat for a few moments concentrating all her thoughts and all her love on her youngest grandchild. Then she went back to thinking about Dominic and wondering how they were going to tell him Rosamund had disappeared.
As they sat round the table eating food for which nobody had much appetite, Josse summed up everything they knew concerning Rosamund’s disappearance, not that it amounted to much. He wanted to build up a picture of the previous day and, quickly understanding, both Helewise and Meggie volunteered information.
‘Dominic left her here late yesterday morning,’ Helewise said, ‘and we had a bite to eat before going through the forest to the abbey.’
‘I met them on the way,’ Meggie added, ‘and we all went into St Edmund’s Chapel. Rosamund and I left Helewise praying and went to sit on the slope above the abbey.’
‘Did she say anything?’ Josse asked eagerly.
‘She said a lot,’ Meggie said with a faint smile, ‘but then she always does. Nothing of any relevance, I’m afraid.’ She frowned, clearly thinking. To Helewise, she appeared preoccupied, almost absent, as if whatever was absorbing her so profoundly was not precisely the same as what they were all discussing. Then Meggie said, ‘No. As far as I recall, our talk was light and did not touch on anything serious.’
Helewise put out her hand and laid it on Josse’s. ‘We have to go down to Tonbridge and inform Dominic,’ she said. ‘Morning is here, we have found no sign of her and we can wait no longer.’
‘Aye, you’re right,’ Josse said heavily, getting to his feet. It was a dreadful prospect, but he knew it would not improve by being postponed. ‘Will’s been tending to Alfred, so he’ll be ready to leave as soon as he’s saddled up again. Dominic’s staying with Gervase – there was some matter that Gervase wanted to ask him about – so I shall be able to inform both of them at the same time.’
There was a short silence, and then Helewise said, ‘I shall be able to inform them?’
He looked down at her. He knew what she was suggesting, and for a moment his heart leapt with relief. But her place was here. ‘No,’ he said. ‘You should stay here, where you can—’
‘Make soup?’ she said spiritedly. ‘Josse, Tilly and I have prepared an ocean of soup. Dominic is my son,’ she went on softly, ‘and he left Rosamund in my care.’ She raised her chin, and an expression spread over her face that he knew of old. ‘I will not have it that this frightful news is broken to him by anyone but me.’
She, too, had stood up. She stood before him, straight and tall, and he knew there was no more to say. He held out his hand, and she took it. ‘Come on, then,’ he said.
They rode down the road to Tonbridge in silence. Josse was trying not to think about what lay ahead: it was something that had to be done, and he dreaded it, but it would not be improved by dwelling on it. Instead, he let his mind ramble, and presently he found himself recalling other journeys he and Helewise had made together. I used to have to slow old Horace’s pace, he mused, but now our mounts are more evenly matched. He glanced over to Helewise’s grey mare, another of Honey’s descendants. Her name was Daisy.
Too soon t
hey were at the bottom of Castle Hill and the town was before them. The river curled through the valley, and swirls of fog hung over the marshy ground to the east. The town was already about its business, and Josse had to shout out several times to clear their passage along the narrow, crowded streets.
They turned off to the left, and the crowds quickly thinned. Gervase de Gifford’s house was some distance out of the town, and Josse, who had visited many times, led the way unhesitatingly. They rode into the courtyard, and almost immediately a lad emerged to take their horses.
‘Morning, Sir Josse,’ he said with a grin. Then he saw Josse’s expression and the grin faded.
‘Is the sheriff at home?’ Josse asked as he dismounted.
The lad nodded, then jerked his head in the direction of the steps leading up to the house. ‘Him and the mistress are having breakfast,’ he said.
Josse nodded his thanks and then gave Helewise a swift, questioning look.
‘Ready,’ she whispered.
Together they mounted the steps and went into the hall.
Helewise looked around her at the home of Gervase and Sabin de Gifford. The hall was generously sized and well furnished. The rushes on the stone floor were fresh and sweet-smelling, and the table at which the family were sitting to eat was sturdy oak.
Gervase was on his feet, greeting his guests and calling to a servant to bring more food. Helewise paused briefly to respond to his welcome, but her eyes were on her son.
Dominic had also risen. Unlike Gervase, he stayed where he was at the table. He was staring at her, and she recognized that even in that first moment he was aware something was wrong.
Josse was muttering something to Gervase, who turned to stare at Dominic. Helewise, hardly noticing, walked steadily across to her son.
‘Rosamund is missing,’ she said. ‘She was last seen yesterday at dusk and we have had been out all night looking for her. We believe she was taken away by a young man who was lurking close to the House in the Woods.’