‘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.
It was Brother Saul who first spotted him.
‘Sir Josse!’ he called, his voice strangely uncertain. He, too, thinks to spare me, Helewise thought swiftly, rushing ahead, since he only calls Sir Josse.
She and Josse arrived at the scene together.
And the three of them stared down at the dead man.
He was dead, there could be no doubt — nobody could lose so much blood and still live. Besides, there were savage, deep cuts to his neck and chest, and another that ran right through his left eye. Any one of those cuts could have penetrated to brain, or heart, or lung, bringing inevitable death.
Helewise realised slowly that she was very cold. Her teeth were chattering, and her fingers felt numb. She tucked her hands into her sleeves.
She became aware that Brother Saul had turned aside and was vomiting into the undergrowth.
She felt Josse’s hand touch her arm. Tentatively. Then he said, in a matter-of-fact voice that did a great deal to bring her back into control — and stop her taking the same route as Brother Saul — ‘No wonder the girl had so much blood on her. I would think, wouldn’t you, Abbess, that she must have knelt down to look at him, and the blood seeped into her skirt?’
Helewise swallowed. ‘Er — yes, indeed, Sir Josse. Perhaps, in the darkness, the extent of his wounds was not as apparent as it is now, to us, and she felt compelled to see how badly hurt he was.’ Oh, the thought of it! That poor, poor girl, kneeling down, feeling the warm wetness seep into her gown, through to the flesh of her legs! Then putting out her hands to touch him, and coming across those dreadful cuts. ‘She — er, she must have known immediately that he was dead.’
‘Hmm,’ Josse said reflectively. He, too, was kneeling down now, but being more careful than Esyllt and avoiding the worst of the blood-pool. He held the torch just above the body. ‘Aaah.’
‘You know who he is,’ Helewise said. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Aye. His name was Ewen. He was one of Hamm Robinson’s poaching and thieving gang.’
‘You are sure of that?’
‘Aye.’ He hesitated, bending to look more closely at the wounds on the chest. Then added, ‘I saw him earlier. He and Hamm’s cousin had gone back to the place where they were digging up treasure.’
Treasure, Helewise thought vaguely. Men digging for it. Whom Josse must have been watching, at some previous point in this interminable night, when he had been about business of a very different sort.
What was that, now? She wondered why it was suddenly so difficult to remember. Why had Josse gone into the forest?
Caliste. Yes, of course, he’d been looking for Sister Caliste.
Suddenly it all seemed a lot to take in. Helewise felt her head swim, and, stepping back from the corpse and the stink of blood, she leant back against the smooth trunk of a beech tree. She took several deep breaths, then, hopefully before either Josse or Brother Saul had noticed her momentary weakness, she said, ‘We must get him back to the Abbey. And, I think, Sir Josse, I must notify Sheriff Pelham that there has been another murder.’
* * *
Josse and Brother Saul carried the corpse out of the forest between them. It was not a pleasant task, especially as, with dawn now well advanced, there was sufficient light, even under the trees, to see the dead man all too clearly.
The Abbess, Josse noticed, had not, as she might have done, suggested that she hurry on ahead to notify the sisters at the Abbey of what they must prepare themselves to receive. Instead, she paced along beside the corpse, her rosary beads in her hands, her lips moving in silent prayers.
Ah, but she was a determined woman! Josse thought, partly in admiration, partly in frustration. There had been no need for her to subject herself to this horror, not when he and Saul had been there, ready and willing to go and look for the body on their own!
Still, as she had been at pains to point out, she was in command here. And, like a good commander, she didn’t make her troops do anything she wasn’t prepared to do herself.
‘Stubborn woman,’ Josse muttered under his breath.
The Abbess, quietly intoning her prayers, didn’t hear. But Brother Saul, walking ahead of Josse and bearing the dead man’s feet, turned and gave Josse a very fleeting grin.
* * *
They laid him in the crypt, a chilly, stone-walled chamber beneath the Abbey church. Its floor space was broken up by the massive stone pillars that supported the incalculable weight above; it was a dank and gloomy place.
This was not the first time it had housed the recently dead.
In the more adequate light of several torches, Josse confirmed what he had already suspected concerning Ewen’s manner of death.
Then, while Sisters Euphemia and Beata went about the ghastly task of preparing the corpse for burial, Josse went up to the Abbess’s room to await the arrival of the sheriff.
* * *
‘Did he have relatives?’ Josse asked the Abbess, resuming his seat on the wooden stool.
‘Hm?’ She turned to him, and briefly he wondered what she had been thinking about that he had just interrupted. ‘Relatives? Ewen Asher? I believe … He lived alone, I think. He used to board with his widowed mother, if indeed this is that same man. But she died last year. He had no wife and no children, as far as I know.’
‘That’s as well, now,’ Josse remarked.
There was a short reflective silence. Then the Abbess said, ‘Was he, too, killed by the Forest People?’
‘No,’ Josse said instantly.
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Because — well, I won’t go into that.’
‘But-’
He went on, determinedly ignoring her interruption, ‘I’ve been thinking, Abbess, that the most likely killer is Seth, since, on the face of it, he’s the only person with anything to gain by Ewen’s death.’
‘A larger share of whatever it is they’ve discovered in the forest, you mean.’
‘Aye. In fact, with both Hamm and Ewen dead, Seth can have the lot. Only…’ His brows came together in a fierce frown.
‘Only what?’
‘Only that’s not right, either.’
‘What do you mean?’
Josse raised his head. Meeting her eyes, he said, ‘Unlikely as it seems, Abbess, there must have been a third party out in the forest last night. Besides the poachers and Esyllt, I mean. Well, in fact a fourth party, if you count me. And, since neither the Forest People, Seth nor I slaughtered Ewen, and we must surely agree that Esyllt didn’t either, then we can only conclude that it was this mysterious fourth party who did.’
Chapter Ten
Sheriff Harry Pelham, Helewise observed, had made about as favourable an impression on Josse as he had done on her.
Josse had given the sheriff his seat when the officer had come into the room; on the surface a courteous gesture, but she had realised — as surely Josse had done — that, for the sheriff to squat on a low and insubstantial stool while Josse stood over him, nonchalantly leaning against the wall, put the sheriff at a distinct disadvantage.
‘It’s those damnable Godless Forest People again, you mark my words,’ Harry Pelham, was saying, shaking an aggressive, finger at Josse. ‘First one murder, then another. And both on the night of the full moon! I ask you, what more proof do you need?’