The Chatter of the Maidens (27 page)

‘I do,’ he admitted. ‘I regret, Abbess, that I made no mention of it last night. But, as I am sure you will appreciate, to reveal that I knew of the death would have made you suspicious, since I did not arrive at the shrine until well after the event, and your monks, you will be glad to hear, do not gossip with new arrivals about matters pertaining to those who preceded them.’ He sighed. ‘However, as it transpires, I might as well have told you, since you have discovered who I am without assistance.’ He shot a glance at Josse. ‘Without
my
assistance, anyway.’

The Abbess said coolly, ‘Sir Josse and I are used to working together. He has often been my confidant, and his advice has been instrumental in the resolution of many grave problems.’

‘I see,’ Bastian said. ‘Well, Abbess? Now that you know the whole story, what have you decided to do about Alba? Not that it is in truth your decision,’ he added softly, ‘since, as you said, she is no longer a member of your community. She is no longer even a nun.’

‘I am aware of that, thank you, Brother Bastian,’ the Abbess said. Josse noted how, once his identity had been confirmed, she addressed Bastian by his proper title. ‘What concerns me is this, if I may speak plainly. Alba is guilty of the murder of your nephew, Felix, you tell us, and, although you have not said so, I guess that you believe she may also have attacked your brother monk in the Vale.’ Bastian began to speak, but she held up her hand for silence. ‘I fear that the emotions of you and your brethren will run high, and this is understandable since one of your own has died, but—’

‘
Two
of our own,’ Bastian put in. He gave her a sly look. ‘Felix was about to enter the Order.’

‘Very well, two of your own.’ She was staring straight at Bastian, Josse noted. Brave woman, he thought; he had an idea of what she was about to say. ‘And I very much fear, Brother Bastian, that, under the circumstances, Alba may not receive a fair trial. My inclination, therefore, is to keep her here until she may be tried in this area, where we may—’

Bastian’s face was pale with anger. ‘Not receive a fair trial?’ he repeated. ‘Abbess Helewise, remember to whom you speak! I am a Templar, and we do not pervert the course of justice!’

‘Brother Bastian, I have learned much of Alba and her sisters over recent days and weeks,’ the Abbess said. ‘I accept that she may be responsible for these acts of extreme violence, but, in the name of God’s holy mercy, should we not bear in mind that the woman has had a dreadful background, which may well have affected her adversely? You told me yourself that her mother died in giving birth to her, and you spoke of the character of Wilfrid, and—’

But Bastian could contain himself no longer. ‘These matters
will
be addressed, Abbess!’ he cried, ‘and you insult both me and my Order by implying that they will not! And, besides, what choice do you really have? You cannot release Alba to freedom, now that you know what she has done, and it may be months before she can be tried here in Kent. Put her in my care, and I will take her straight back to Denney, where her fate will be decided immediately!’

‘Brother Bastian, it serves no purpose merely to repeat your arguments,’ the Abbess answered, with what Josse thought was admirable calm. ‘I believe that the best thing—’

But neither Josse nor Bastian were to hear what she thought the best thing was. For at that moment there came the sound of running footsteps from the cloister outside. After a token thump on the door, it was flung open and Sister Martha stood there, red faced and panting.

‘Abbess, oh, Abbess, I’m sorry to interrupt but you have to know, right away! I just went down to take Alba some fresh food and water, and the door was wide open – she’s gone!’

 

Brother Bastian, his face working, demanded instantly, ‘Who let her out? Do they not
know
the danger?’

‘Danger?’ Sister Martha echoed, staring blankly at Bastian and clearly wondering why a pilgrim visitor to Hawkenlye was being so pushy and rude. Why, indeed, he was standing in the Abbess’s room.

The Abbess, already getting to her feet, said, ‘Sister Martha? Have you any idea how this has happened?’

‘No, Abbess, indeed I have not!’ Sister Martha said hotly, as if she felt Bastian were accusing her of being personally responsible. ‘Only the three of us have been taking turns seeing to poor Alba, and we’re all very careful, I can assure you! Why, we usually make sure we’ve got—’

‘That will do, Sister Martha,’ the Abbess interrupted gently. ‘You found the door open when you went down into the undercroft, you said?’

‘Yes, wide open, and no sign of the woman!’

‘Then somebody must have let Alba out before you got there, and it can hardly be called your fault,’ the Abbess concluded. With a swift glance at Brother Bastian, fuming beside her and giving the impression that he wanted to wrest authority from her hands and take over, she went on calmly, ‘The important thing now is to find her. Sister Martha, summon three lay brothers and six nuns and divide them into three search parties. Sir Josse here, Brother Bastian and I will form a fourth. We shall meet in the courtyard as soon as we are all ready, and I will tell each party where to go. Hurry up!’

With a last glance at Bastian –
Brother
Bastian? she seemed to be wondering – Sister Martha sped away.

While the search parties were gathering, Brother Bastian excused himself and hurried off towards the Vale. When, a short while later, he returned, he had removed his coarse brown robe; now he wore openly the white surcoat of the warrior monks, emblazoned on the breast with a red cross. At his side hung a sword.

‘Brother Bastian, for pity!’ Helewise exclaimed as she saw the latter. ‘We hunt for one miserable woman, not a band of murderous brigands!’

‘I pray my sword will remain sheathed, Abbess,’ he replied grimly. ‘But I intend to take no foolish risks.’

Angrily she turned away from him, and her eyes met Josse’s. Be calm, he seemed to say.

As always, his very presence was a comfort. We shall be with Bastian to watch what he does, she thought, cheered, and he will not make any over-reckless move against Alba before two witnesses.

Will he?

When the nuns and the lay brothers were ready in their groups, she issued her instructions, giving each group an area to cover and ordering them to locate and inform the other groups if they found Alba.

Then she led Josse and Brother Bastian out of the Abbey’s main gates and off towards the forest. Josse, coming to walk closely beside her, said quietly, ‘Do you think she has run this way?’

‘I do,’ she muttered back. ‘If I am any judge of her state of mind, she is very nearly frantic.’

‘Aye,’ he agreed. ‘I am still haunted by the sound of her flinging herself against the door of her prison.’

‘As I am. Do you not think, then, Sir Josse, that the Great Forest would appeal to a fugitive? Plenty of concealment, and—’

‘I believe, Abbess,’ he interrupted, ‘that it would all depend on why our particular fugitive has run away. If it is because she has heard whispers of Brother Bastian’s intentions, then she has fled in order to hide from him. But we must not forget what has been, until now, her prime concern.’

‘Her family!’

‘Aye. It may be – indeed, I think it
must
be – that she has gone to search for Meriel and Jerome.’

Oh, dear God! Helewise felt a growing dread. Suppose the young couple have returned to the charcoal burners’ camp?

‘That area of the forest – where they made camp – must be searched,’ she said, relieved to hear that her panicky fear was not evident in her voice. ‘We shall go there straight away, Sir Josse. If, by a miracle, we find Jerome and Meriel, we can tell them what is happening.’

We can protect them, she added silently.

‘But what about
him
?’ Josse indicated Brother Bastian, striding along behind.

She hesitated. Was she doing the right thing? She still wasn’t entirely sure. ‘He will have to be told that they were here sooner or later,’ she replied eventually. ‘And what if Alba is heading straight for them? If, by some chance, they have come back, and she has discovered where they are, then—’

Brother Bastian had caught them up. ‘I know where we are going,’ he announced. ‘You are heading for the camp where Jerome and Meriel are living.’

Helewise shot Josse a quick glance, and, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. No. It was not the moment to inform Bastian that Meriel and Jerome had gone.

She turned to Bastian, adopting her most formidable manner. ‘You knew of their presence?’ she demanded. ‘Why did you not tell us?’

‘Why should I?’ He sounded as if he were suppressing rage. ‘I followed along behind that young lay brother of yours, when you sent him to trail Berthe, but neither of them was aware of me. And, before you ask, I did not let Jerome or Meriel see me, either. But let us make haste! If Alba finds them, we do not know
what
will happen!’

Pushing past Josse and Helewise, he rushed on along the path, not waiting to see if they were keeping up. Not pausing, either, to look to his left or his right.

Which was why, when a small and dejected figure stepped out from behind a tangle of undergrowth, it was Helewise who saw her first, and to whom she rushed, weeping, for comfort.

‘I meant no harm to Meriel, Abbess, nor to Jerome!’ Berthe sobbed. ‘I
love
them, both of them, Meriel’s my dearly beloved sister, and Jerome promised he’d be a real brother to me! And anyway they’re not there any more – Alba won’t find them now. They’ve gone, they’ve gone and left me all alone!’ A loud wail ripped from her, its sudden shrill noise shattering the still silence of the forest.

Helewise hugged her. ‘Hush, child! You’re not alone, we will take care of you.’

Berthe did not seem to hear. ‘But, oh, Abbess, Alba’s my sister, too, and when I heard about that monk wanting to take her back for trial, well, I couldn’t just let him have her, could I? I love her, too, really, and they’ll hang her, those Templars in Denney, I just
know
they will!’

The sobbing rose towards hysteria, and Helewise held the girl tightly against her, muttering soothingly, ‘Yes, Berthe, I understand.’ She let her cry for a few moments, then, giving the girl a gentle shake, she said, ‘Berthe, stop this now. Does Alba know that Meriel and Jerome were out here in the forest? Did you tell her where they had been living?’

‘Of course I didn’t!’ Even in her pitiful state, Berthe managed to sound indignant. ‘She doesn’t even know Jerome’s still alive – I didn’t tell her, I know better than
that
. But actually, she didn’t even ask me if I knew where Meriel was. She just rushed off, in the other direction. Down there.’ She pointed.

Helewise, following the direction of the waving hand, felt a wave of relief flood through her. Glancing at Josse, she saw that he was thinking the same. Unless Alba turned sharp right off the track Berthe was indicating, she would go straight past the charcoal burners’ camp and not even suspect it was there.

Even if the young lovers had returned, Alba would not find them.

‘Come on,’ Helewise said firmly, taking hold of Berthe’s hand. ‘We’ll follow her. You, me and Sir Josse. Don’t worry, Berthe, I’m sure we’ll find her.’

But before they could set off on Alba’s trail, there was a rustling in the undergrowth and a figure appeared from the path behind them.

It was Bastian.

He ran towards them, shouting as he ran, ‘They’ve gone!’

Waiting until he had slid to a halt, Helewise said calmly, ‘Yes. We know.’

Bastian’s mouth opened and shut. ‘But you – why—?’

Berthe, looking from Helewise to Bastian and back again, wailed suddenly, ‘I don’t understand! Oh, why don’t you stop arguing and
look
for them! Both my sisters are lost in the forest, and it’s all my fault!’

Once again, she flung herself against Helewise.

Josse, stepping forward, put a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. ‘You must not take blame on yourself, Berthe,’ he said. Helewise flashed him a look of gratitude. ‘These are matters whose roots go a long way back, and—’

‘It
is
my fault, whatever you say,’ Berthe cried. ‘If I hadn’t let Alba out, Meriel wouldn’t have had to run away!’

Oh, but the child’s logic has deserted her! Helewise thought. ‘Berthe, that is not right,’ she said firmly. ‘Meriel and Jerome ran away
before
you opened the door to Alba’s cell.’

‘But—’ Berthe began.

Bastian cleared his throat. Glancing at him, Helewise noticed on his face an expression she had not seen before. It was . . . it looked as if it were pity.

He, too, came to stand beside Helewise and Josse. In a rather clumsy gesture, briefly he put his hand on Berthe’s head. It was almost as if he were bestowing a blessing.