Meggie, looking heavy-eyed, stood beside her, her thumb in her mouth. She was tracing shapes in the dust with one foot and did not look up.
Joanna did. Her dark eyes were glaring up at Josse with such ferocity that he stopped dead.
‘Joanna,’ he said huskily; he cleared his throat and tried again. ‘Joanna, it is good to see you. This is Sabin de Retz’ — he touched Sabin’s arm, noticing as he did so that she was rigid with tension and guessing that she too had noticed Joanna’s expression — ‘and she is to ride with us since she too has business in Brittany.’
Joanna said nothing.
‘We — er — we should start as soon as we can,’ he went on. He handed Horace’s reins to Sabin and advanced towards Joanna, feeling the burning power of her eyes fixed on him.
‘Ride on, Josse,’ Joanna hissed caustically. ‘I’ll follow along in your dust.’
He realised all of a sudden the impression that he must have made and simultaneously he understood the false conclusion to which she had leapt. He put a hand on each of her shoulders — touching her sent a shock of terror through him, as if her very flesh could somehow harm him — and said very quietly, for her alone, ‘Joanna, don’t. It is not as you seem to think. Sabin is to marry Gervase de Gifford, who is sheriff here and a good man. He will be with us very soon; he is in the stables fetching his own horse and also your mare Honey, who has been in the nuns’ care.’ He gave her a little shake and, his inexplicable fear of her vanishing as quickly as it had come, leaned closer and whispered, ‘D’you think I’d let you walk when I rode? Silly girl!’
Then, at last, she smiled.
Sabin saw the smile and let out the breath she had been holding. There had been something in the air, something that she did not recognise and that scared her, and it seemed to emanate from the fierce eyes of the dark woman in the beautiful green tunic.
Who was she? If she was the woman Josse had spoken of, and surely she must be, then Josse had referred to her as Joanna. Yesterday Gervase had appeared to recognise the name; Sabin had asked him later later but all he had said was that she was a woman of the forest people who was a friend to Josse and to Hawkenlye Abbey. She was a healer, he’d said, and Sabin had detected admiration in his voice. Wondering if this Joanna might also be good-looking, she had awaited the meeting with excitement.
Joanna was good-looking; she was, Sabin now thought, almost beautiful. She had not expected Joanna to have a child with her, a girl child of about two and a half years, if Sabin were any judge.
Now, still feeling the sweet relief that had flooded her the moment when Joanna smiled, she thought again about what Gervase had said. A woman of the forest; a healer. Add to that, Sabin thought wryly, someone with the power to alter an atmosphere by her very presence and it adds up to a woman of whom to be very, very wary.
She was about to risk a friendly greeting, perhaps address a remark to the sleepy little brown-haired girl, but then she heard the sound of horse and human footsteps and, turning, saw with unexpectedly vast relief that Gervase was approaching, leading his own familiar bay and a smaller, gold-coloured mare who was dancing on her toes with excitement. He met Sabin’s eyes, gave her a smile and a wink that heartened her still further, and then walked on towards the woman in green. Sabin watched him.
He put Honey’s reins into Joanna’s hand. ‘Your mare, my lady,’ he said with a bow.
Joanna took the mare’s reins, gave Gervase a word of thanks and, lifting the child, set her astride in front of the saddle. Both Josse and Gervase stepped forward to help Joanna mount but she swung herself up behind the child without their aid. Sabin suppressed a smile as the two men stood there, their hands still outstretched and their mouths open.
She felt Joanna’s eyes on her.
Nerving herself, she met the frank stare. With a swift glance at the two men, she looked back at Joanna and raised an eyebrow as if to say, sweet, aren’t they? And, unless she was very much mistaken, on Joanna’s stern face as she glared down there appeared a very faint grin.
Sabin had the distinct feeling that Joanna’s senses worked rather more efficiently than other people’s and that the woman of the forest had observed all that there was to observe in the little scene that had just been enacted. Whether or not that was true, for some reason Sabin felt that the woman’s initial animosity had subsided.
Which, considering the long journey in each others’ company on which they were about to embark, was probably just as well.
Helewise heard a soft tap at her door.
‘Come in.’
‘They are ready to leave, my lady Abbess,’ Sister Ursel said. ‘I am sorry to disturb you, but you did say that you wished to see them off and bless their journey.’
‘Indeed I did, Sister Ursel. Thank you.’ Rising, Helewise indicated to the nun that she should go on ahead back to the gate. After taking a couple of steadying breaths, Helewise followed her.
With an appearance of calm serenity that she was far from feeling, she walked up to the quartet at the gates. Josse had yet to mount; she went up to him and said softly, ‘Thank you, Sir Josse, for what you are about to do. Good luck in your endeavours and let us all hope and pray that you meet with success.’ Then, suddenly afraid for him: ‘May God bless you for your willingness always to be a friend of the Abbey, and may he keep you in his care and bring you safely home.’
Josse closed his eyes for a moment and muttered, ‘Amen.’
‘God’s speed, Gervase,’ she said, moving on to the sheriff, who removed his hat and gave her a bow. ‘And to you, Sabin’ — she turned to the fair young woman on the grey — ‘and I congratulate the pair of you on the happy announcement that you are to be wed.’
‘Thank you, my lady,’ Sabin said meekly.
Lastly Helewise turned to Joanna, sitting silent and still on the golden mare. The child sat before her, watching Helewise with heavy-lidded eyes. ‘This little one will be asleep before you’ve gone half a mile,’ Helewise said softly, smiling up at Joanna.
Joanna smiled back, deep, dark eyes seeming to reach right into Helewise’s mind as if seeking briefly to touch on memories that both she and Helewise knew were hidden within. ‘Yes, my lady,’ she replied. ‘Meggie was awake for much of the night.’
‘She’ll soon catch up on her lost sleep,’ Helewise said, grateful to Joanna for speaking of normal things. ‘They are so very adaptable at that age, aren’t they?’ she added.
‘Yes. They tell me the trouble really starts when they’re a little older and start to question everything with why?’
Helewise laughed. ‘How true,’ she said. ‘I recall it only too well!’
She reached out and touched the child’s springy brown curls. ‘Go safely, little Meggie,’ she said softly. Then, eyes on Joanna’s, she whispered, ‘May I give you a blessing too?’
There was a split-second’s hesitation, then Joanna’s face relaxed and she said, ‘Yes, my lady. I should welcome it.’
Helewise leaned close to Joanna and Meggie and quietly uttered a brief but urgent prayer for their safety. She thought she heard Joanna murmur ‘Amen’, but she could have been mistaken.
Then she stepped back, waved a hand to Josse, now mounted, and watched as the four adults and one child rode out of the gates and off on the road that led to the coast.
Chapter 6
The early start, combined with a warm, dry day that was ideal for a journey, meant that the travellers reached the coast in the mid-afternoon. They made for the port of Pevensey, busy now in high summer with the arrival of many small ships from across the narrow seas and beyond. Josse left the others in an inn yard, where they would take care of the horses and then see about ordering a meal, and he set out along the quayside in search of a captain who would take the party over to France; preferably to some port as far to the west as possible.