‘Perhaps she was treated less harshly than the others,’ the Lord said. ‘Either that or she is a quick healer.’ Turning to look at Utta, now held in a close embrace by Benedetto, tears streaming down both their faces, he lowered his voice and said, ‘How soon can you go for the other woman?’
‘I return to Hawkenlye from here,’ he said. ‘If you will keep them safe a while longer, I will bring her as soon as she is fit to come.’
The Lord nodded. ‘We will await you.’
The members of the heretic group were still wrapped up in each other. Not wishing to interrupt their happiness, Josse led Horace out of the courtyard, mounted and rode quickly away.
In the early evening, Josse watched from the shadows as the Abbess came out of the Abbey church and headed for her room. When she was inside behind a closed door, he went over to the infirmary.
‘Sir Josse,’ Sister Euphemia greeted him coolly. ‘We were wondering where you were. The Abbess is quite anxious about you.’
‘I — er, I have been visiting Gervase de Gifford down in Tonbridge,’ he replied. It was the truth, as far as it went, but still he felt the guilt rise up in him at his deceit.
‘I see.’ The expression in Sister Euphemia’s wise eyes suggested that she did see, all too clearly. ‘You’ve come to see Aurelia, no doubt. Go through, she’s sitting up and is much better.’
He did as she suggested. Aurelia stared up at him doubtfully; struck by how lovely she was, he knelt beside her bed and said slowly, ‘I am so pleased to see you looking well.’
She answered him in his own tongue, although with an accent that he did not at first recognise; it was a long time since he had talked with someone from the Midi. Listening intently, he realised that she was thanking him. That, even though he had not yet told her, she seemed to know what he was planning to do.
‘How do you know?’ he whispered.
She put a long finger to her lips. ‘I cannot tell you. It is a secret. But I know what you have been doing and I know that you will take me to join them as soon as it is possible. I think perhaps we can go tomorrow. But very early, yes? Before anyone is awake and watching.’
Thinking that it would have to be very early indeed to be before an Abbey full of nuns rose for their first prayers, he nodded. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘I’ll come for you before daybreak.’
She reached out and took his hand. ‘I cannot move quickly,’ she said. ‘You need to know this, and also that you will have to help me.’
‘I understand. I’ll get you up on my old horse. He’s steady and has a broad back. You’ll think you are still lying in your bed.’
She gave him a very lovely smile. ‘You are being untruthful with me, Sir Josse, but I know that you do it to reassure me and so I forgive you.’ She gave his hand a squeeze then, letting him go, shifted in her bed with a small wince. ‘You should go,’ she urged. ‘Somebody may wonder what you do here, whispering to me in such secrecy.’
‘Very well.’ He stood up. ‘Until tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow.’ He caught an echo of the smile, then he turned away.
The next morning, Helewise repeated her previous day’s early visit to the infirmary. Today she went straight after Prime. She headed for the recess where, behind a curtain, Aurelia’s bed was concealed, reaching it before even the infirmarer or Sister Caliste got there.
When, a little later, she was joined by Sister Euphemia, she said quietly, ‘Aurelia has gone.’
‘Aye,’ the infirmarer replied. ‘Before daybreak, I would guess.’
‘Was she fit to travel?’
Sister Euphemia gave a brief tut of concern. ‘I would have said not. I would prefer to have had the care of her for a few days more. Her wounds are healing quite well and her fever is down, but I fear very much that, without care, she may open up one of those cuts and the infection may come back.’
Helewise lightly touched the infirmarer’s sleeve. ‘It is out of our hands now, Euphemia,’ she said gently. ‘You and Sister Caliste have done your very best for her.’
Sister Euphemia stood looking down at the empty bed for a while. Then, with a shake as if she were pulling her attention back to more practical matters, she said, ‘Aye, you’re right, my lady. I’ll get this bed stripped and prepare it for whoever needs it next.’
Later in the morning, Helewise received a visit from Gervase de Gifford. He began on an elaborately courteous greeting, which she interrupted by raising a hand.
‘I am sure that you have not come rushing up to the Abbey this morning to exchange polite remarks with me,’ she said coolly. ‘Would you care to explain your mission here?’
‘Er — I am still trying to discover what happened to Father Micah,’ de Gifford said. ‘I am ashamed to confess that I still know no more than that he was found six days ago at the top of Castle Hill with a broken neck.’
‘I hope you had not been hoping for another look at the body,’ Helewise said, deliberately keeping her tone neutral. ‘We buried him four days back.’
‘No, no, I don’t think there was anything more to be learned from looking at the poor man.’ De Gifford appeared to be recovering his composure.
‘You have learned no more of his final movements?’ she asked. ‘Other than his visit to this Lord up at Saxonbury?’
‘No.’ De Gifford would not, she noticed, meet her eyes. Then he said, ‘My lady, I was expecting to meet Sir Josse here this morning but I am informed down in the Vale, where I understand him to be putting up, that he is not here.’
‘Is he not?’ She widened her eyes. ‘I am afraid that I cannot help you, Sir Gervase. I do not know where he is.’
She had a fair idea, but it was, she told herself, quite true to say that she did not actually know.
‘Oh.’ De Gifford seemed to be at a loss. ‘I wonder, my lady, if I might pay a visit to the woman in the infirmary? The heretic woman with-?’
‘I know to whom you are referring,’ Helewise interrupted. ‘I would gladly give my permission for such a visit, only I am afraid that she is not there either.’
She had to give de Gifford credit for quick thinking. The words were hardly out of her mouth when he made her a swift bow and turned for the door. ‘If you will excuse me, my lady, I have just-’
‘Just remembered an important engagement?’ she asked sweetly. ‘Please, then, do not let me detain you.’
For one brief moment he met her eyes. In his she saw excitement, the thrill of some dangerous task he had to do. There was something else, too; she did not think that he had been fooled for a moment by her act of innocence.
He said very quietly, ‘Thank you, my lady, and may God bless you.’
Then he was gone.
19
Josse remembered the pre-dawn ride to Saxonbury for a long time afterwards. He remembered it primarily for Aurelia’s courage.
He tiptoed into the infirmary while it was still pitch dark outside, finding his way to her bed by the soft glow of a candle on a shelf set up high in the wall.
He was not familiar with the daily and nocturnal nursing routine and, in any case, he was too preoccupied with getting Aurelia away unseen to think about why there was no nurse on duty with the patients.
Aurelia was sitting on her bed, dressed in a dark coloured robe and with a thick travelling cloak beside her. He whispered, ‘Have you a pack?’ and she shook her head.
He took her arm and she stood up. Then, with small steps and leaning heavily on his arm, she walked beside him along the length of the infirmary and out of the door. On the step she took one quick backward glance; he saw her lips moving but he could not hear what she was saying.
Urging her on, he helped her to where he had tethered Horace. Then, feeling her stiffen up with the pain, he helped her into the saddle. He slid back the bolts and opened the gate a little, then led the big horse outside, fastening the gate behind him. Then, trying very hard not to jog her, he got up in front of her. It was awkward and he would have felt safer supporting the ailing woman when seated behind her, but there were the wounds on her back to consider. When they were settled, he urged Horace forwards into a slow, even walk.