Ashes of the Elements (12 page)

Seth stood quite still, looking all around him as if suspecting a trap.

But there was no further sound.

He climbed back into the ground, coming up again, grunting with effort, bearing some large object in his hands. Stuffing it into the sack – with some difficulty – he had a last look around the clearing, then, slinging the bulging sack over one shoulder and picking up his spade in the other hand, set off after Ewen.

Josse gave him a few minutes’ start, then, coming out from his hiding place, moved stealthily back into the clearing. Staring first down the path which the men had taken, then around the circumference of the encircling trees, he began to suspect his eyes were playing tricks.

Either that, or—

No. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about.

What Josse
thought
he saw was a figure.

Human, and, by its slenderness, female. Robed in white, a little stooped. And, in her hand, a long wand.

But it must have been his eyes, seeing imaginary sights. Because, when he rubbed them hard and looked again, she was no longer there.

Josse clutched at his talisman. He felt the point of the sword press into his hand, and the small sharp pain brought him back to himself.

It was just the effect of the forest, he told himself, of the watchful, silent trees, of the ancient workings, the ruined buildings and edifices of a long-gone people. And that humming – that dire, haunting humming – was probably no more than some weird effect of the wind in the branches.

But the night was still and calm.

There wasn’t any wind.

He tried to stay calm. Telling himself that he was making a rational decision, that the dark, swooping waves of alien power he could sense emanating from the dense wood all around him had nothing whatever to do with it, he concluded that there really was no purpose in staying out any longer. That, for all the good he was doing, he might as well head back to the Abbey. He was on the point of doing just that when another, very different, sound seared through the forest.

It wasn’t humming, this time. It didn’t even begin as a sweet sound, and there was no suggestion in it whatsoever of music, of singing.

It was a scream.

A human scream, beginning faintly, swiftly escalating to a high-toned, vibrant pitch of sheer terror.

It ended, abruptly, in a sort of groan.

Then, as the echoes died away, the utter silence of the brooding forest closed in once more.

And Josse, at last losing what little remained of his self-control, heedless of the brambles and the tangling undergrowth that tried to hold him back, raced out of the clearing and off down the path that led to the outside world.

PART TWO

DEATH IN THE FOREST

Chapter Nine

Josse returned to the Abbey to find, for all that it was after midnight, the community still awake, with torches blazing in the courtyard and lighting the shadows of the cloisters.

After the frightening darkness deep within the trees, it was a blessed relief.

He found the Abbess in her room, with the door open; it was, he thought briefly as the impression hit him, as if, in that night of anxiety and disturbance, she wanted her nuns to feel that she was close by. Accessible.

She got up as he came into the room.

‘Abbess, I haven’t found her,’ he began, ‘but I think—’

At the same moment, she said, her face full of joy, ‘She’s here! Sister Caliste has come back, and she is quite safe! Quite unharmed!’

‘Thank God,’ he said quietly.

‘Amen,’ the Abbess echoed, then hurried on, ‘Sir Josse, would you credit it! She’s dreadfully sorry to have caused us all this worry and trouble, she says, but she went for a little walk under the trees and
forgot the time!
Dear me, did you ever hear such a silly idea?’

‘She forgot the time,’ Josse repeated. He didn’t want to admit it to the Abbess, but, knowing the forest now rather better than she did, in fact he could see all too clearly how such a thing could happen. ‘Where is she?’ he asked, turning his thoughts with an effort away from the mystical spell of the forest and on to more urgent matters. ‘You say she is not hurt, but has she taken a chill?’

‘She’s fine.’ Abbess Helewise’s relief was evident in her wide smile. ‘She is on her knees in the Abbey church. She is full of remorse, as I said, and praying for God’s forgiveness for having upset all her sisters so badly.’

Sisters. That reminded him. ‘Abbess, this may sound a strange question, but do you know where Esyllt is?’

‘Esyllt?’
Clearly, it did sound a strange question. ‘She sleeps in a little dormitory in the aged monks’ and nuns’ home,’ the Abbess said, frowning. ‘Often they need attention during the night, you see. I’m quite sure that’s where she is.’ Eyes turning to Josse, she demanded, ‘Why?’

‘Could you send someone to check?’ he urged. ‘Abbess, I wouldn’t ask if it were not important!’

She seemed to recover herself. ‘No, of course you wouldn’t. Wait here, I’ll go myself.’

He waited. Sank down on the wooden stool, leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.

A little later, she came back. One look at her face told him he’d been right.

‘Not there?’ he asked.

‘Not there.’ The frown was back, deeper than before. ‘Do you know where she is, Sir Josse?’

‘Where she is now? No, not exactly. But I have an idea where she went earlier.’ Briefly he outlined to the Abbess the idea he’d had when he was setting off into the forest.

The Abbess was nodding slowly. ‘It seems you were right,’ she said. ‘But why? Why should Esyllt make secret visits into the forest? And at night!’

‘They would have to be at night, if they were to be secret,’ he pointed out. And, even though she’d gone at night, she hadn’t managed to keep it secret from him; he’d seen her returning, yesterday morning.

‘Quite, quite,’ Helewise was saying impatiently. ‘But for what purpose? And why should Sister Caliste know about it, whatever it was, and be prompted to follow her?’

‘Abbess, there’s something else,’ Josse said. ‘Something which, unless I’m very much mistaken, is more dreadful than a young woman going off into the forest at night.’

A sudden terrible thought struck him. Caliste was safely back within the Abbey walls, but Esyllt wasn’t.

Oh, God, what if that appalling, long drawn-out scream of agony had been hers?

What if it was she who now lay insensate in the forest, hidden in some place off the main track?

‘What? Josse,
what
?’ The Abbess was shaking him. ‘Tell me! Dear God, but you’ve gone ashen!’

He stood up. ‘Abbess, when I was still deep in the forest, I heard a dreadful cry. I’m very much afraid that the killer has struck again. And that—’

‘Esyllt!’ Now she, too, was ashen. ‘Oh, no! Oh, sweet Jesus, no! Not—’

‘There were others abroad!’ he said, grabbing her by her hands. ‘I fear there’s no doubt but that there’s been another attack, but, Abbess, it is by no means certain that the victim must be Esyllt!’

She was staring at him wide-eyed. ‘We must go and look!’ she cried. ‘Whoever the victim is, we must search for them. Now! All of us!’

And, before he could even try to stop her, she had rushed out of the room, skirts of her habit flying, calling out to her senior nuns. Very soon afterwards, she had made her arrangements; efficient even in such a frightful crisis, she had organised and dispatched the search parties more quickly than Josse would have thought possible.

He waited for her to come back and tell him what she wanted of him, and at last she returned to her room. Wiping sweat from her brow – the night was close – she said, ‘Sir Josse, will you come out and search with me?’

Making her a bow, he said, ‘Gladly I will.’

*   *   *

Marching off into the forest, Abbess Helewise was more glad than she would have admitted to have Josse’s steady tread at her side. And she had made sure that Sister Euphemia, Sister Basilia and Sister Martha also had strong men with them in their search parties; moreover, every man of them armed with stout staves. Few of the lay brothers, she reflected, would have much sleep this night.

The darkness under the trees was more profound than she had expected. But then, the night was wearing on, and the moon no longer so high in the sky. Full moon, she mused. Full moon again, and now a second murder.

To take her mind off her fears over who the victim was, she said to Josse, ‘Sir Josse, do you realise that—’

But she never asked her question. For at that moment, flying towards them with her skirts raised high around her bare thighs, blood on her outstretched hands, on her chin and on her gown, hair awry and face as pale as death, came Esyllt.

Seeing them, she screamed, ‘He’s dead! And there’s so much
blood
!’

Then she rushed into Helewise’s arms.

In the first few seconds, Helewise could do nothing but hold the girl tightly against her breast, cradling her, quieting the harsh sound of her sobbing.

‘Hush, child,’ she murmured, dropping a kiss on the wild hair, ‘you’re safe now. We won’t let any harm come to you.’

Esyllt pulled away from her, craning round to look back over her shoulder down the path along which she had just come.

‘He’s in there,’ she said, with a shudder. ‘Way back there. Lying deep in the underbrush, and he’s dead, I’m sure he’s dead, he
must
be dead!’ She was rapidly losing control again.

Josse said gently, ‘Who is dead, Esyllt?’

She spun round to look at him, staring at him wide-eyed as if she did not recognise him. But then a shadow of her usual smile touched her lips. ‘Sir Knight,’ she said. ‘Are you going to come and see my old dearies?’

‘Soon,’ Josse said. ‘I promise.’

She nodded. ‘Good. They’ll like that.’ Then, as if awareness of her present distress, momentarily put aside, had come flooding back, her face crumpled and she whispered something.

‘What was that?’ Helewise asked, rather too sharply.

Esyllt shook her head, tears flowing down her face. ‘Nothing,’ she muttered.

‘Esyllt,’ Helewise persisted, ‘something terrible has happened, and, for the moment, our Christian duty is to find this poor man who has been attacked and do what we can for him.’

‘You can’t do anything, he’s
dead,
I keep telling you, dead, dead!’ Esyllt moaned. A great shiver went through her, and her sobbing began again. ‘And, oh, God, it’s so awful! I – he – you see, we…’

‘Then we must take him back to the Abbey for decent burial,’ Helewise replied implacably, cutting off whatever Esyllt had been trying to say. ‘Then – and only then – will we set about trying to discover what lies behind all this.’ She gave the girl a gentle shake. ‘Do you understand, Esyllt? You are in no condition to be questioned now, but we will be doing so when you have recovered yourself.’

Helewise wondered if Josse would realise what she was trying to do. Wondered, too, if he had noticed what Helewise had seen, when Esyllt had first rushed out of the trees towards them. No, she told herself. Don’t think about that now. Time enough to get to the bottom of that later, when they were safely back inside the Abbey walls.

By speaking firmly to the girl – in effect, shutting her up – the Abbess was hoping to make sure that, in her shock and confusion, Esyllt didn’t blurt out something she would later regret.

There was always the danger that, if she spoke up now, she might somehow incriminate herself. And the one thing Helewise was quite sure about was that, whatever else she might have done, Esyllt was no murderer.

Josse must have been sure, too. For he said, ‘No, Esyllt, no more questions for now. We shall call out and attract the attention of one of the other search parties. Then you will be taken back to the Abbey, where they will look after you. Just tell me where to find the victim, then you can go into the warmth and the light, wash, change your clothes, then sleep until you feel better.’

Esyllt’s eyes were fixed on him as he spoke, and, when he had finished, she smiled at him. ‘You have a kind heart, Sir Knight,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t he, Abbess Helewise?’

‘Indeed,’ Helewise agreed.

‘May I do that?’ Esyllt asked her. She was, it appeared, sufficiently herself to remember that it was Helewise, not Josse, who ordered her actions.

‘You may,’ Helewise said.

Josse had trotted off down the main track, calling out as he went. Presently he had an answer, and, shortly after that, Brother Saul, Sister Euphemia and the other two lay brothers in their group came into sight.

When they had finished exclaiming and offering up thanks over Esyllt’s having been found alive and safe, Sister Euphemia put her arm round the girl and the group set off with her back towards the Abbey.

‘Brother Saul?’ Josse called after him.

He stopped. ‘Sir Josse?’

‘We have an unpleasant duty to perform,’ Josse said. He shot a look at Helewise, who had a good idea what was coming. ‘Esyllt has told us where to find the man who was attacked,’ Josse went on, ‘and I wonder, Brother Saul, if you would come with me, so that the Abbess can go back to—’

Yes. It was exactly what Helewise had expected. ‘Sir Josse,’ she interrupted, ‘I am leading this expedition, and I shall not return to the Abbey until we have accomplished what we set out to do.’ She added, dropping her voice so that Brother Saul would not hear, ‘And I’ll thank you to remember that it is I, not you, who is in command here!’

He looked suitably reprimanded, and for a brief moment she felt a rich satisfaction. Then she thought, but he was trying to help! Trying to spare me a possibly – no, a definitely – terrible sight. I should not have bitten his head off for that impulse to charity.

‘I am sorry,’ she whispered.

But Josse was already turning to set off down the path, and she didn’t think he had heard.

*   *   *

The moon had set now, and they had to use the flares which had been hastily prepared before the search parties had set out. Even so, it took a long time to find him.

Esyllt had left quite a clear path for them to follow wherever she had pushed her way through undergrowth; there, it was a relatively easy matter to find the broken twigs and branches, the flattened bracken, that marked her flying feet. But, when she had run across clearings, they had to spend many minutes looking for the point at which she had entered the open space.