‘Thank you for coming to see me,’ she said, smiling at Meriel and then at Jerome.
‘The thanks are ours,’ Meriel said. ‘I don’t know how we’d have got through this terrible time without you, Abbess.’
‘It is my nuns you must thank,’ she said gently. ‘They have been praying for the three of you. And, with them, prayer also has a practical side — it was a stroke of genius on Sister Euphemia’s part, to ask Berthe to help her with the two new babies in the maternity room.’
‘I don’t suppose for a moment that she really needed Berthe’s help,’ Jerome said.
‘Neither do I,’ Helewise agreed. ‘How do you think she is? Berthe, I mean?’
Meriel gazed at her for a moment before replying. ‘She truly is beginning to get over it, I believe,’ she said. ‘It was a frightful shock to see Alba fall. It will recur in her dreams for a while, I dare say.’
‘Yes, I expect it will,’ Helewise agreed.
‘But she is beginning to see that there was really no escape for Alba,’ Meriel went on. ‘Even if you had refused to let Bastian take her back to Denney to answer for the murder of poor Felix — and there was no reason why you should refuse, Abbess, we quite understand that — then it was really only postponing the inevitable. Sooner or later, Alba would have had to face up to judgement for her sins.’ She paused. Then: ‘Is it fairly certain that she killed the monk in the Vale, too?’
‘We think so, Meriel, although with both victim and probable murderer dead, there is no way we can be certain. But it seems likely. We surmise that Alba went to the Vale to check that there was nobody there who might have recognised Berthe. And, of course, she found exactly what she was dreading she’d find. Somehow she must have lured him outside, then killed him with his own staff.’
‘She’d have recognised a Denney Templar all right,’ Jerome said grimly. ‘She used to go and spy on their comings and goings — she was obsessed with them. We never knew why.’
Helewise said quietly, ‘I believe I do.’ Then she told them what Alba had said about her parentage.
Meriel was aghast. ‘Did you believe her, Abbess?’
Helewise sighed. ‘My reason tells me I should not,’ she said, ‘since I knew perfectly well that poor Alba was a liar. But somehow that makes no difference — I did believe her, yes.’
‘Her father was a Templar!’ Jerome breathed. ‘No wonder my uncle Bastian was so keen to get her back to Denney. He must have been terrified she’d tell someone!’
Helewise looked at him. ‘Your uncle was only doing his duty,’ she said. ‘He was quite right in wanting to have Alba put on trial for Felix’s murder. And as for the other business, he may not even know about the rumour regarding the identity of Alba’s father. The warrior knights are, I am quite sure, very discreet.’
Jerome grinned briefly. ‘That they are. I’ve lived around the Templars for much of my life, and I’ve never heard so much as a whisper of gossip about babies fathered by illustrious monks.’
‘And I do not believe it will benefit anybody if such gossip begins now,’ Helewise said firmly, looking searchingly at each of the young people. ‘Alba is dead, and beyond our help. Even if the truth about her could be uncovered, it would do her no good. And it might do the Denney Templars a great deal of harm.’
‘If one of them really did beget Alba, then don’t they deserve having harm done to them?’ Meriel said.
But Jerome put his arm round her, hugging her to him. ‘The harm would affect all of them,’ he said softly. ‘And the majority do not deserve it.’
Helewise smiled at him. I couldn’t have put it better myself, she thought. ‘Brother Bastian is leaving today,’ she said. ‘I am sure he would want to say goodbye to you both, and to wish you luck.’
‘There’s no need for farewells,’ Jerome said. ‘We’ll be going back to Denney, too, and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t ride with him. He’s been very good to me.’ He gave Meriel a swift glance. ‘And he’s promised to help us if we decide to settle back near Denney.’
‘And will you?’ Helewise asked.
Jerome was still looking at Meriel, apparently waiting for her to answer. ‘No,’ she said. ‘We don’t think so. Too many memories.’
‘I understand,’ Helewise said. ‘What will you do?’
‘Jerome has some money, left with the monks in trust for him by his father,’ the girl went on. ‘That’s why we have to go to Denney, to arrange about the legacy. We think we’ll use it to set up home somewhere around here. We can both work — Jerome was taught lots of skills by the monks, and I can help him. We won’t have much, but we’ll manage. We’ll have each other. And Berthe can live with us, at first.’
‘At first?’
‘Abbess Helewise, she wants to be a nurse. She loves working in the infirmary, and she’d like best of all to become a nursing lay nun, if you’ll have her.’
‘Gladly,’ Helewise said warmly. ‘But let’s wait a while till she’s older. She might change her mind.’
‘She won’t,’ Meriel said with a smile.
Helewise went to the gates to see the three of them, Meriel, Jerome and Berthe, on their way. Brother Bastian was waiting for them, and beside him stood Josse.
She went over to the two men. Josse gave her a smile; Bastian performed his deep bow.
‘Abbess, I like your friend Sir Josse d’Acquin,’ Bastian said as she approached. ‘He is a sound man.’ He gave Josse a hearty thump on his arm; fortunately, it was the left one.
‘Indeed he is,’ Helewise agreed.
‘I am full of admiration for your skill in deduction,’ Bastian continued. ‘You make a good team.’
‘The Abbess is the brains, I am merely the brawn,’ Josse said modestly. ‘On this occasion, I fear she has had to be both brains and brawn.’
‘You were sick, Sir Josse,’ she said. ‘But even from your infirmary bed, you were invaluable.’
Brother Bastian gave a short laugh. ‘If ever I have an insoluble problem at Denney, I may send for you,’ he said. Glancing at Meriel, Jerome and Berthe, and seeing that they were ready, he swung into the saddle and beckoned to the other three. ‘Farewell!’
Helewise and Josse stood watching until the four riders were out of sight. Then, turning to go back inside the Abbey gates, Helewise remarked, ‘He said, if I have an insoluble problem. As if he were of some importance at Denney.’
Josse chuckled. ‘Well deduced, Abbess Helewise,’ he said, copying Bastian’s tone. ‘Our friend Brother Bastian is actually Master Bastian. He’s in charge at Denney.’
With his wounded arm fully mended and memories of the disturbing presence of Alba and her sisters quickly receding into the past, there was no excuse for Josse to stay at Hawkenlye. He wanted to get home, back to New Winnowlands; Will would have managed in his absence, he knew that, but he missed his home.
Before saying adieu to the Abbess, he went to find Sister Euphemia. Steering her outside into the sunshine for a brief moment, he handed her a purse of coins. ‘That is for you to use as you see fit, Sister. It comes with my eternal thanks for saving my arm and probably my life.’
She looked at him. ‘I thank you, Sir Josse. I will put your coins to good use, you have my word.’
‘I know that.’
‘As to saving your life. .’ She paused, eyeing him. He had the impression she was deciding whether or not to reveal something to him.
‘Go on, Sister, you can tell me!’ he said with a laugh. ‘Whatever it is can’t affect me now. Even if you say you almost gave me up for lost, it’s over now. And here I am, still alive!’
‘It’s not that, not exactly.’ Again she hesitated. Then she said, ‘The wound was not healing. In fact, the infection was getting worse, and everything that I tried seemed to make no difference. Then Sister Tiphaine came up with something, and it worked.’
‘So I must thank Sister Tiphaine as well,’ he said quietly. ‘Which indeed I shall do.’
But Sister Euphemia clearly hadn’t finished. ‘Sir Josse, whatever it was — and I’ve certainly never seen the like before — she got it from the forest.’