The Abbess got to her feet, and, without a word, walked swiftly along to her room. Presently she returned.
Carrying in her hands a long-shafted, flint-headed spear.
‘I’ve cleaned it thoroughly,’ she murmured as he took it from her.
After some time he asked, ‘Why did you keep it?’
She shrugged. ‘Oh — I don’t really know. I suppose I thought it might come in useful as evidence, although that makes little sense.’ She met his eyes, and her expression seemed bashful. Ashamed, almost. ‘No. That’s not the truth.’ She took a breath, then said, ‘I kept it because the workmanship is so fine. For all that this thing was the means of a cruel death’ — she stroked a careful finger down the central spine of the flint spear-head — ‘it is so very beautifully made.’
Josse studied it. ‘Aye,’ he said softly. ‘It is.’ He gave a snort of laughter, instantly recognising it as inappropriate.
She looked up at him questioningly. ‘Sir Josse?’
‘I was just thinking that I can’t see Seth Miller making such an object.’
The ghost of a smile twised her lips. ‘Neither can I.’
* * *
Some time later, Josse reluctantly got to his feet and announced he should be on his way; although he and the Abbess had been arguing the merits of various possible next steps regarding Seth Miller, they had reached no conclusion.
Josse was aware that he was holding something back. But he didn’t know that she was, too.
He said to the Abbess, who was walking beside him as he went to collect his horse, ‘I’m wondering if there’s any value in putting a watch on Seth’s cottage, if indeed it could be arranged discreetly.’
‘I suppose it could,’ she said after a moment’s pause. ‘But why? What would be the point?’
‘I have an idea-’ He hesitated. ‘Because,’ he said instead, ‘it might be revealing to see if anyone went to the place to look for the treasure trove. It would tell us whether Hamm, Ewen and Seth had let anybody else in on the secret.’
‘But-’
‘Abbess, I’ve been thinking,’ he went on urgently. ‘What possible good would Roman coins and plate be to a band of petty thieves? They’re simple countrymen, the three of them, born and bred not a mile from here. How could they realistically have hoped to gain by their treasure trove, unless they knew someone who would buy it off them?’ Someone rather more sophisticated, he added silently. Someone who knew his way around the rich and the wealthy of this world. Who might, say, know exactly which clandestine patron of the historic arts would be prepared to pay a small fortune for genuine Roman silver and gold. Who, more importantly, had not sufficient respect for the law to worry that two men had been murdered in the process of acquiring the precious goods.’
The Abbess was nodding. ‘I understand,’ she said. ‘And, in principle, your idea is good. But, Sir Josse, the treasure is in Sheriff Pelham’s keeping. And, before you ask, no, I doubt very much that he would be prepared to give up one or two items with which to bait your trap.’
‘Oh.’ And, Josse thought, annoyed with himself for even mentioning the plan, anyone sophisticated enough to peddle antique treasure would, equally, be sufficiently worldly to know perfectly well that there would be nothing left to find in Seth Miller’s little hovel.
‘You have, I believe, someone in mind for this shady role of middle man,’ the Abbess said softly.
‘I have.’
Typically, she did not press him. And he, wondering why he did not want to implicate in this crime, even to her, a man who might well be innocent, kept his peace.
It was not until he had one foot in the stirrup and was about to mount that he remembered to ask her: ‘Abbess, I all but forgot! You learned nothing from the girl, from Esyllt?’
‘No,’ she agreed, watching him settle in the saddle. ‘But how, Sir Josse, can you be so sure of that?’
‘Because if you’d discovered anything of value, you’d have said so.’
‘Indeed,’ she murmured.
‘No sinister explanation for her presence in the woods last night?’
‘No explanation at all.’ The Abbess looked worried. Turning her face up to look at him, she added, ‘But something hangs heavy on her conscience.’
He pictured Esyllt. Well-built, strong … Strong enough to have made those savage cuts?
His eyes still on the Abbess’s, he guessed she was thinking the same. ‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘No, Abbess, I cannot believe it. The girl has a loving heart, I’d stake my reputation on it.’
‘Even the most loving heart can be roused to fury,’ she whispered. ‘If — ’ She did not go on.
‘If what?’ he pressed.
She looked at him now with, he thought, almost a pleading expression in the grey eyes. After a small infinity of time, she said, ‘Nothing. I’m sure — I pray — you are right.’
He reached down and briefly touched her sleeve. ‘Count on it.’
But she was still looking worried. ‘I think — ’ she began.
‘What?’
Lifting her chin as if reaching a difficult decision, she said, ‘Another is involved here, Sir Josse.’
Could she, he wondered, be thinking about Tobias? Surely not, for she had no way of knowing that he had been seen in the vicinity this morning. Had she? ‘Go on,’ he said.
‘Sister Caliste,’ she said simply.
‘Caliste!’ He had forgotten about her. ‘Yes!’ All he knew, he now thought, was that, when he had arrived back at the Abbey soon after midnight, it was to find that the novice had returned. ‘When did she get back?’
‘She was waiting outside the church when we came out of Compline.’
She had returned, then, some three hours before Josse.
‘And with no explanation for her absence, either?’
‘Only this ridiculous story of walking among the trees and forgetting the time.’
Josse slowly shook his head. Caliste, Seth, Ewen, Esyllt. And, if he was right, Tobias, waiting near at hand to receive the treasure. Hoping swiftly to pay off his work force and be on his way to his wealthy buyer.
Caliste, Seth, Ewen and Esyllt had all been in the forest last night, though, deep within it. Hadn’t they? How did they all connect?
With a sound of impatience, he jerked Horace’s head up and said to the Abbess, ‘There’s a complicated story here and no mistake, but I’m all at sea, I can’t make head nor tail of it.’
She murmured something: ‘… afraid to…’ and more words he didn’t catch.
‘Abbess?’
‘Nothing.’
‘I’m going home,’ he announced, not without a certain edge to his voice; if the Abbess could not bring herself to share her thoughts with him, then there was little point in pursuing the matter. ‘If there are any developments, will you let me know?’
Her face once more turned up to his, she gave him a thin smile. ‘Of course.’
‘Until then…’ He left the sentence unfinished, and, kicking Horace into a trot, headed off along the road for New Winnowlands.
* * *
Helewise, left to the pain of her unspoken anxiety, made her way slowly back towards her room.
Then, changing her mind, instead she went into the church.
But not, this time, to pray, unless it was for God’s guidance in this matter. Instead, she settled on a narrow bench at the back of the great building, and, in its atmosphere of power combined so affectingly with peace, tried to straighten out the tangle of her thoughts and her emotions.
She had noticed — as it had become obvious that Josse had not — that, as Esyllt had come flying through the trees towards them last night, bloodied and terrified out of her wits, there had been something else unusual about her.
She had raised the long, full skirt of her gown, the better to run through the forest.
And, underneath that gown, Helewise had seen that Esyllt had been naked from the waist down.
Oh, dear God, it didn’t mean, did it, that Ewen had come across her and attacked her? Stripped off her underclothes, tried to rape her? Succeeded?