Why not here? Helewise asked herself. Would it be so bad to have it outside the abbey walls? This is our land, after all. She had checked again, and the relevant document stated that the abbey owned the land right up to the first of the trees. She walked around the perimeter of the area, trying to visualize a small, simple chapel set there against the forest… and she saw that, in the oak tree that stood out from its fellows like the prow of a vast ship, there was something lodged in the branches.
A chill seemed to creep over her, for she knew without a doubt what it was.
She hurried back to the abbey and sent word to Josse. When he arrived, she said tersely, ‘Someone’s been in my room overnight. They’ve taken the statue and-’
He muttered an oath. ‘It’s been stolen?’
‘No, Sir Josse. It’s back in the oak tree.’
‘Who could have put it there?’
‘I have no idea. Only you, I and Meggie knew where it came from. Only we, indeed, know anything about it at all.’
‘Neither Meggie nor I put it back,’ he said.
‘No, Sir Josse, I did not imagine that you did,’ she replied, calm in the face of his agitation. ‘There is, of course, one other possibility.’
‘That it flew there all by itself?’ he suggested with a faint grin. ‘My lady, you are getting carried away. It is not like you to be so fanciful.’
‘I meant,’ she said patiently, ‘that one other person at least knows where the statue was: the person who put it in the tree in the first place.’
‘And you propose that this mystery man observed that Meggie and I brought her back here; then late last night, when we’d all gone to bed, he crept into your room, managed to find the figure in her hiding place and took her back to the tree?’
It did not, she had to admit, sound very likely, but then it was more credible than a solid wooden statue flying through the darkness of its own volition. ‘Well, it’s one explanation,’ she said lamely.
He smiled at her, a true, warm smile prompted by genuine amusement. Was it a sign that he was feeling more optimistic this morning? Had her lengthy, fervent prayer been answered? Oh, she hoped so! ‘And a reasonable one, my lady,’ he was saying. ‘Still, however she got back into her tree, I’d better go and fetch her.’
‘Yes, please do, Sir Josse. Meanwhile I will sit here and think of a more secure place of concealment.’
Josse hurried out to the edge of the forest, anxious to complete his mission before Meggie came to find him. He was not sure why but he knew he did not want to involve her in this small mystery. It was.. He could not explain it, but he was all too aware that there were undercurrents to this matter that he could not understand. He had left Meggie helping old Brother Firmin fill up the jugs of holy water that were prepared every morning for visiting pilgrims. Meggie had taken to the gentle old monk as if to a beloved grandfather and as for Brother Firmin, Josse had rarely seen him so happy.
He clambered up into the oak tree, got hold of the statue, which, he observed, had been put back in exactly the same place, and then hurriedly returned to the abbey. The abbess was waiting for him in the doorway of her room and, seeing her now in the bright sunlight, he realized how pale and strained she was looking. I don’t reckon she had much sleep last night, he thought. She works too hard, bless her.
‘Here’s the figure,’ he said, thrusting it at her. ‘Have you thought of another place for it?’
‘No, Sir Josse.’ She took the figure and quickly bundled it away in the book cupboard. ‘It will have to stay there for the time being, for there is another matter I have to attend to.’
‘What? May I help?’
She gave him a grateful smile. ‘Yes, in fact I believe you can. Two days ago, we found a badly wounded man at the gates and he’s been in the infirmary ever since. I know nothing about him — he’s delirious, and I’m afraid he’s been rambling, telling us some weird tale of ancient secrets. Anyway, Sister Caliste has just come to tell me that he’s awake and I’m going to see him to hear if he makes any more sense today.’
‘And you’d like me to come with you?’
‘Yes, Sir Josse. Two of us together will do better than one alone in shedding light on whatever trouble he is in, and perhaps we shall be able to help him out of it.’ Without further explanation and looking slightly sheepish — he smiled, guessing that her real reason was to keep his mind off his anxiety — she turned and set off determinedly for the infirmary.
The infirmarer was waiting for them and led them to the recess at the end of the ward. The abbess preceded him through the gap in the curtains and stood at the head of the bed, so that to begin with all that Josse saw of the patient was his torso and his long legs.
‘You are feeling better today?’ the abbess enquired.
‘Aye, my lady. I have slept for hours, I believe, and it has been a healing sleep, for-’
I know that voice! Josse stepped to one side so that he could see the man’s face, but he needed no verification. The man in the bed looked up, saw him and exclaimed, ‘Josse!’
Josse, looking from him to the abbess, said, ‘My lady, why did you not tell me his name?’
‘I do not know it!’ she protested.
Josse grinned. ‘He is Sir Piers of Essendon,’ he said, ‘and he has a manor up on the high forest ridges to the west of here. We have known each other,’ he added, ‘for years.’
The wounded man was struggling to sit up but Sister Caliste, watching him anxiously, eased him back on to his pillows. ‘He is still very weak,’ she explained.
‘Weak I may be, but I am no addled fool whose wandering wits cannot tell a true tale!’ Piers said crossly. Then, fixing Josse with a hard stare, ‘Josse, they think I’m delirious, for all that I have no fever and when I try to tell them what happened to me, they look at me pityingly as if I were an over-imaginative child!’ He all but spat out the last word, wincing in pain as the violent movement tugged at his wounds.
‘We thought you were dreaming,’ Sister Caliste said apologetically, ‘and if we urged you to rest and not tire yourself by trying to talk, it was because we truly believed it best for you.’
Piers’s face softened at her gentle voice and he looked up at her. ‘I know, lass,’ he said. ‘Forgive me, for I’m worried out of my wits and if I yell at you, it’s only from frustration.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Sister Caliste said serenely.
‘What’s worrying you?’ Josse asked. ‘We can help, perhaps?’
‘Josse, it’s an extraordinary tale and I’m not sure I’d believe it if another man related it to me,’ Piers exclaimed. ‘Nevertheless, I’ll try.’ He paused, breathing deeply. ‘A very long time ago, a group of thirteen knights came across something amazing out in Outremer. It did not originate there — it came from an even more distant, darker land. It represents… No, I cannot yet reveal that.’ A shadow crossed his face and again he winced in pain.
‘The knights were permitted to know what this precious object was and they swore to protect it,’ he went on. ‘They formed themselves into a secret brotherhood, which they named the Knights of Arcturus; as you may know, in the heavens Arcturus lies in the constellation of Bootes, which we observe to have thirteen stars, and it is the guardian of the two bears, Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. The object that was found in Outremer represented something of vast importance and the Knights of Arcturus swore to protect it, for they understood that it was under grave threat and that with time this threat could only increase. They further comprehended — or perhaps they were made to comprehend — that if this important thing were to be lost to the world, it would be gravely, unimaginably to the world’s detriment.’
‘What was it?’ the abbess whispered. Her eyes, like those of Sister Caliste, Josse noticed, were wide with wonder.
‘I may not tell you. Yet,’ Piers added with an apologetic smile. ‘But listen to the rest of my tale. One of the original thirteen knights was my own forefather, back through many generations, and, as is our custom, his place among the Knights of Arcturus was taken at his death by a nominated member of his own family. Thus the secret is kept within the same clans and, in time, it was my uncle’s turn to join the thirteen. Now, I knew nothing of any of this until very recently when, knowing he did not have long to live, my uncle summoned me and told me of my strange inheritance. He warned me to prepare for the summons and told me that I must obey it. I had no choice.’ He sighed.