Legs trembling with fear, her whole body shaking with nerves, she resigned herself to her fate. She walked quietly over to where Pamarchon lay on the ground. He looked up at her and held out his hand.
50
Henary watched the search parties when they left; all, he noted, were men Gontal had brought with him. Few even knew what Catherine looked like, and none knew much about the forest. Neither Gontal nor the Chamberlain was mounting a serious hunt. They were not going to try to find her. They were going to make as sure as possible that they did not.
But where was she? She was fully aware of the importance of a timely return. Something terrible must have happened, and if it had happened to her, then Jay also was somewhere in the vast forest, dead or injured. If he had breath in his body, he knew the boy would come back to him.
There was nothing more he could do. He had bought her time, at a high price to himself. Now he had to wait and, while he was waiting, he might as well begin to construct his arguments. Win or lose, Gontal would lay a complaint against him. He had to have his arguments ready. He could start by reviewing the case of Pamarchon and the murdered Lord of Willdon to make sure that his interpretation of the criminal’s conviction was correct.
He laboured hard until mid-morning, when a servant — one he trusted as utterly devoted to Catherine — approached him.
‘The Lady Rosalind. She has come back in the company of an outlaw. She is insistent that she must speak to you. We have not told Scholar Gontal of her appearance, but he will undoubtedly find out soon enough.’
Henary stood up in a hurry.
‘Well done. Thank you. How is she?’
‘Dirty, scruffy and looking — I don’t know how to put it exactly.’
‘Try.’
‘Radiant.’
Henary examined the man curiously, wondering about his peculiar choice of words.
‘In that case, take me to her immediately.’
The servant led the way swiftly across the house, through little rooms that Henary had never visited before. The route made it less likely, so he said, that anyone would notice their passage.
‘She’s in here,’ he said when they got to the door which led into the room where Henary had once shouted at Jay. He remembered, felt briefly guilty, and went in.
Standing by the window looking out over the gardens was the slim, short figure of the girl. She did indeed look a mess. Her hair was all over the place; she was wearing men’s clothes and shoes but, as she smiled in recognition, Henary realised that the servant’s description was accurate. Radiant was a good word. More than that. In the few days since he had last seen her she had changed completely. Just the set of her body, the easier way she moved. She was more assured, more — what? Commanding, perhaps. Something about her reminded him of Catherine.
The thought brought him back to reality.
‘Where is she? Where is Jay? Are they well? Are they safe?’ he asked the moment the door had shut.
‘I am well. I am safe, thank you for asking. Tell me, is it Mr Henary? Professor Henary? Scholar Henary?’
‘Just Henary,’ came the reply, ‘and I accept your rebuke, but I can see that you are alive and in rude health. Catherine and Jay, on the other hand...’
‘They are both fine, although when I last saw Lady Catherine she was very grumpy.’
‘Oh, thank goodness!’ he said, and collapsed heavily onto a stool. Then he held his head in his hands and breathed deeply, trying to hold back the sobs of relief so she wouldn’t notice. ‘You have relieved me of all the burdens of life,’ he said eventually. ‘Thank you, dear lady. A thousand times thank you.’
‘You are most welcome,’ she replied. ‘They have been in some considerable danger but at present are in none whatsoever. I have guaranteed their safety, and so no one will dare harm them.’
‘Then why are they not with you?’
‘Well, now,’ she said, ‘that is really quite a story. Do you want to hear it?’
‘Naturally.’
‘The long version or the short one?’
‘The long one, of course, but first tell me where they are, and why they are not here.’
‘They are both deep in the forest and are the captives of Pamarchon, chief of the forest dwellers.’
‘Oh, good heavens! You think they are not in danger? I’m surprised he hasn’t slit her throat already.’
‘That’s very judgemental of you. You’d better stop being so mean about him, considering.’
‘Considering what?’
‘As I say, it is a long story. She will be back tomorrow morning, so have no fear.’
Henary paused. ‘I do fear. A great deal. Already the situation is dangerous.’
‘I know. Listen to what we have decided. But first, tell me your news.’
So Henary began to explain how the lordship of Willdon had been declared vacant and been immediately claimed by Gontal, who had arrived very swiftly.
‘We knew all that, except for the last bit. This Gontal. He’s already here?’
‘Yes. I was suspicious for a moment. Alas, his story was true. He really was on the way elsewhere. Very bad luck indeed. He should have been immediately installed but I managed to delay it,’ Henary said gloomily, ‘by pointing out that the real heir is Pamarchon until his sentence is carried out. Gontal is calling an assembly to overturn my opinion. He is likely to succeed unless Catherine returns and offers herself as candidate. We have until tomorrow, at dusk.’
Rosalind listened carefully to this, asking questions about details and events.
‘How complicated,’ she said, when Henary came to a stop.
‘Indeed. My argument was unusual and I was lucky to get away with it. I can find nothing else in the precedent books that will help. Now, why are you so calm when Catherine is in such danger?’
‘Because she is under the protection of a good man. Who is also to be my husband.’
‘Who?’
‘Pamarchon. So she is quite safe.’
‘The man is a murderer!’ Henary exclaimed. ‘How could you be so foolish?’
‘I don’t know about this place, but where I come from the normal thing is to offer congratulations when one announces one’s engagement,’ Rosalind said primly. ‘When’s the happy day? What do you want as a present? That sort of thing.’
Henary tried hard to come up with something suitable but found nothing. Rosalind felt quite sorry for him.
‘As I understand it,’ she said, ‘everyone is worried Gontal will get Willdon and join it to the power of the scholars. Right?’
‘Everybody but Gontal is terrified of the prospect,’ Henary said. ‘However virtuous the man...’
‘Yes, yes. It is clear he must not have it. Even Pamarchon and Catherine agree on that. The trouble is that Pamarchon cannot have it because of his little difficulty with the law, and Catherine cannot because Pamarchon won’t let her leave until his name is cleared. Unless they stop squabbling, it will go to Gontal by default. So they have agreed to a retrial, or appeal, or something. Both will come to the Shrine of Esilio tomorrow and they seem convinced that somehow or other that will settle the matter.’
‘Whose idea was that?’
‘That was Jay’s. Everybody thought it was very clever of him.’
Henary had been doing quite well up to that point, listening carefully and nodding respectfully. This last piece of information floored him completely, though. ‘Dearest heaven!’ he said. ‘That is extraordinary!’
Rosalind was surprised and wanted to ask what he was getting so agitated about, but he suddenly held up his hand for silence, went to the door and glanced down the corridor.