Nobody spoke for some moments. It was as if, Hrype reflected, all three of them were quietly sympathizing with Claude; mourning with her for the life she had wanted so desperately and been so ruthlessly forced to give up.
It was Lassair who broke the silence. ‘Please, sir,’ she said, eyes fixed on Gurdyman, ‘will you tell us if you can think of any boy or young man in the service of Lady Claude’s family who could have fathered Ida’s child?’
Hrype watched the sage and the young healer, each focused so thoroughly on the other that he might not have been there. He sensed Gurdyman’s interest in the girl; his fascination, even, for Hrype could feel how the sage was sending out subtle probes into Lassair’s mind, testing, assessing, exploring. She was holding her own. Amused, Hrype saw her shake her head violently as if ridding herself of a persistent wasp, at which Gurdyman, with a wide grin, withdrew.
‘I will tell you what you wish to know as well as I am able,’ he said. ‘Heathlands is a very well-run, efficient household, as anyone would expect who was acquainted with Lady Claritia, for she is a hard mistress and tolerates no laziness, slackness or mistakes. There is no need to look beyond the indoor servants for your girl’s lover, for in truth I can think of no circumstances in which she would have been free to form the necessary liaison with any of the outdoor workers. She would barely have had the opportunity to meet any of them, never mind take one as her lover.’ He paused, frowning thoughtfully.
‘And the indoor servants?’ Lassair asked eagerly.
‘It is possible that some handsome lad caught her eye, but, again, there is the question of opportunity,’ Gurdyman said slowly. ‘Ida would have slept in Lady Claude’s quarters, the lady being fanatical about the needlework she was producing for her marriage and insisting that Ida guard the finished objects and the costly materials at all times.’
‘Yes, she did the same when they were at Lakehall,’ Lassair put in. ‘That’s her cousin Lord Gilbert’s manor, on the edge of our village.’
‘Yes, I know of Lord Gilbert,’ Gurdyman murmured.
Once more, silence fell. Hrype sensed the frustration build up in Lassair until it spilled over and she cried, ‘Somebody fathered Ida’s child! It can’t be anyone she met since she went to Lakehall, because she was already pregnant when she arrived there. She didn’t have lovers among the village lads and the man who wanted so badly to marry her once he was free to do so never touched her!’ She paused for breath. ‘Now you say she wouldn’t have had the chance to meet a lover while she was at Heathlands, so what are we to conclude?’ She looked round at Hrype, and he saw that her grey-green eyes were alight with the strength of her passion. The crescent moon scar on her left cheek stood out white against her flushed skin.
Pitying her, he said, ‘If the suggestion is that it was this unknown lover who killed her, his reason being that he had cause to fear the revelation of her secret, then should we not ask whether any of the other servants accompanied Lady Claude from Heathlands to Lakehall?’
Lassair flashed him a beaming smile. ‘Yes!’ she breathed. ‘Yes, of course, he loved her, and he’d have wanted to be with her, so he’d have-’ But then her face fell. ‘Lady Claude wouldn’t take a male servant,’ she said dully. ‘Would she? I mean, what would he do for her that Lord Gilbert’s staff couldn’t do? She only took Ida because she was such a good seamstress. She didn’t even take a personal maid, or if she did, nobody’s told me, and I tended her when she was unwell so I’d have probably met or heard about any maid then.’
Hrype watched as she shouldered her disappointment. He understood why this mattered so much to her, and he wondered if she would confess her interest to Gurdyman. It would depend, he mused, what impressions she was forming of the sage. .
Favourable ones, it appeared. ‘My brother is in love with Derman’s sister, Zarina,’ she said suddenly, addressing Gurdyman. ‘Derman’s the-’
‘The simpleton accused of murdering Ida,’ Gurdyman supplied. ‘You said.’
‘Derman’s run away,’ Lassair went on, undeterred by the mild irony, ‘which might be a good thing, since Zarina says she can’t marry Haward — my brother — because she doesn’t want to impose Derman on my family, but the problem with that is that she really cares about him and she won’t be happy all the time he’s missing and she’s so worried about him. So you see-’
‘You must discover who really killed Ida, so that Derman may be exonerated and return home and Zarina’s fears for him will cease,’ Gurdyman finished smoothly. ‘Whereupon she will realize she was wrong in permitting the existence of her brother to come between her and Haward, and they will marry and be as happy as you have seen them to be.’
Lassair’s mouth dropped open. ‘You — how did you know?’
Gurdyman laughed delightedly. ‘I did not know, I guessed,’ he corrected her. ‘You have a set of runes in your satchel, unless I am much mistaken, and they resonate with your power. You have just revealed what is uppermost in your mind: over and above your determination to find out who killed the young woman and her unborn child, you want your brother to be happy because you love him dearly. Therefore, I concluded that what drove you to consult the runes was your overwhelming desire to know if all will end aright for him.’
‘The runes showed them together,’ Lassair whispered. ‘They were laughing, and they were devoted to each other.’ Gurdyman nodded. ‘Was that true? Did I read it right?’ she asked him.
Gurdyman said gently, ‘The runes are enigmatic, Lassair. It is very often the case that we consult them and end up less than satisfied, for reading is in itself a complicated business and one which takes many, many years to learn.’ He glanced at Hrype, his bright eyes crinkled in a smile. ‘Hrype here is a rune master,’ he said, ‘and if he is prepared to teach you, you are fortunate indeed.’
‘She shows some promise,’ Hrype allowed.
‘In this case, however,’ Gurdyman went on, ‘I believe that a simple question received a simple answer.’
Lassair went on staring at him. ‘You mean-’ she began.
But he shook his head. ‘Do not ask me,’ he said with sudden firmness. ‘It is between you and the spirits who guide you; I will say no more.’ Hrype watched as she slumped down on her seat, a small frown of perplexity on her face. Then Gurdyman got to his feet, took Hrype’s arm and drew him over to the small table beside his chair. Unrolling the manuscript, he spread it on the larger table, and Hrype, staring down at it, recognized what it was.
‘You have done it!’ he exclaimed.
‘No, no, for I cannot claim to have produced anything other than the vaguest of outlines,’ Gurdyman said. ‘It is here in my head — ’ he tapped the bald dome of his skull — ‘but I am unable to find a satisfactory way of expressing what I see in my mind in a visible form.’
Lassair’s interest was piqued. Hrype saw her quietly get up and lean over to look at the manuscript. ‘What are you trying to do?’ she asked.
Gurdyman spun round to her. ‘You travelled here to Cambridge from Aelf Fen this morning, did you not?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then think, if you will, of the line made by your feet as you journeyed. Think of the land over which you passed, the streams and rivers that you crossed, the hamlets, villages and towns you passed.’
‘Ye-es.’
‘Now, imagine I asked you how to get from here to Aelf Fen. What instructions would you give me?’
She closed her eyes and said, ‘Leave your house, turn right, then left, then right again, then — oh, several more lefts and rights until you emerge into the street. Go on past the big stone houses, past the quays and over the bridge, then go right, and on through the outskirts of the town till you-’
‘Yes, that will do,’ Gurdyman interrupted smoothly. ‘Now, Lassair, instead of telling me, draw it for me.’ He smoothed out another piece of manuscript — it had clearly been a practise piece and was fluffy from erasures — and held out his quill.