After what seemed to the very nervous Josse a painfully long silence, Eleanor said, ‘Sir Josse, why do you imagine I have come here to my castle on this backwater of an island?’
Josse cast around frantically for a diplomatic answer but all he could think of was the truth. ‘We — that is, the Abbess Helewise and I — wondered if you might have sought a little solitude, madam, in which to grieve,’ he said quietly.
‘A gentle thought,’ she replied, ‘and, indeed, an accurate guess, for it is all too true that I have great need of such a retreat.’ She sighed. ‘I have lost the staff of my old age, the light of my eyes,’ she murmured, ‘and it all but breaks me.’ There was another pause and Josse felt her sorrow flow around him like a dark cloud. Then she said, ‘But the luxury of solitary grief is not for one such as I. Why, even here matters of State occupy me and in the brief time that I have been on the island I have granted two charters and, when the blackness of my thoughts threatens to overwhelm me, I distract myself with a new project to set down once and for all a just and reasonable system of laws for maritime trade.’ She fell silent, a frown creasing her face.
‘I can think of nobody more fitted to-’ Josse began.
As if she hadn’t heard him, she spoke again, shocking him into silence: ‘There are foul rumours concerning a group of knights who, so they say, have been indulging in devil worship,’ she said bluntly. ‘They sacrifice young boys and perform unspeakable sexual misdeeds.’
In a flash of understanding Josse recalled the moment of deep unease as he stood looking up at the castle. Something very bad had happened here. ‘Aye,’ he breathed. Then, eyes on hers, ‘Was it right here, within these walls?’ he asked urgently.
She looked at him, surprise on her face. ‘No, but very close: on the island. How did you know?’ Then, anger darkening her eyes, she hissed, ‘Did somebody tell you?’
‘No, madam, I swear it.’ To his huge relief, she seemed to believe him. ‘Just a sensation. I felt there was evil here.’
‘You felt right,’ she muttered.
‘What has it to do with me?’ he asked. ‘Or with you, my lady? This is your island, I appreciate that, but-’
Again she interrupted him. ‘I remember you, Josse d’Acquin,’ she said. ‘You came to our aid once before. Do you remember?’
‘Aye, my lady.’ Embarrassed, he lowered his head.
‘I was preparing the way in England for my son’s crowning and you helped to defend his good name. Well, now I call upon you to render to me the same service again.’
‘Your son…? Madam, I do not understand.’ Josse stared at her. He read something in her expression, something that made his heart thump in alarm, and he thought that perhaps he did understand after all.
‘Yes, yes,’ she said slowly. Then, suppressed fury sharpening her voice, ‘Rumours, Josse, always rumours! So much has been said about my son King Richard, so much that is bad. Evil. So much that is untrue.’
‘They are saying that he knew of this group of knights?’ Josse asked tentatively.
‘They are saying that he was one of them,’ she replied brutally. ‘They say he joined them in their foul, unnatural rites, that he had carnal knowledge of young boys, that he came here, to this very island, not long before he died to lead one of their most frightful ceremonies — ’ she drew a shaky breath — ‘that he was there to hear the terrible screams.’
‘My lady, I…’ But Josse was lost for words. He wanted to state firmly that he was quite sure there was no truth in the rumours, that the late king was innocent of the dreadful accusations, but he was not at all sure that he could speak the words and sound as if he were telling the truth.
‘I have a mission for you, Josse,’ the queen said quietly. ‘When you have completed it, report back to me. I continue my progress for some weeks, but by mid-July I shall be in Rouen. I wish you to investigate these rumours and find out if there is any truth in them. If there is not, you are to arrest all those responsible for blackening the name of the king and bring them to me for trial and punishment.’
There was a long, aching silence.
Finally Josse said, ‘And if there is?’
The queen’s dark, unfathomable eyes stared straight into his. It was rather like being pinned to a wall. ‘If there is,’ she repeated, ‘bury it. Bury it so deeply that it can never emerge.’
Two
The Hawkenlye party were treated with every courteous consideration during their brief stay at the Chateau d’Oleron. To Helewise’s surprise, that evening Sister Caliste and the lay brothers were, like herself and Josse, invited to dine at the queen’s table. Observing Helewise’s amazement, Eleanor took her to one side and said, ‘My dear, this, as I believe you perceive, is my retreat. I do not have to follow the rules of the outside world here and it is my wish to have a merry gathering. Let your good Sister Caliste and the brethren enjoy some luxury while they may.’
The queen had her wish. The simple diet of the Hawkenlye community did not include delicious and deceptively strong French wines and very quickly Brother Augustus and Sister Caliste emerged from their overawed shells and were laughing and joking as if they had known Eleanor all their young lives. Brother Saul, older and more conditioned to his lowly status, took longer to relax and it was only when the queen requested a song that he finally joined in the merriment. Helewise had never heard him sing solo before and the rich baritone that emerged from his thin, wiry frame was as much a revelation to her as it clearly was to Queen Eleanor.
When he finished — he had performed a faintly ribald song about a maid and a boy falling in love and the absurd course of the lad’s courtship — the queen clapped her hands with delight, said she had heard nothing so good since she had been a girl in the sunny, romantic south and did Brother Saul know any more?
In the middle of the following morning, Helewise was ready to depart. The letters from the queen were safe in a small satchel that Helewise wore at her waist, and the parchments bearing the plans for the new chapel had been carefully rolled and stored inside protective lead cylinders. Brother Saul had been assigned the responsibility of getting them safely back to Hawkenlye.
Having taken her farewell of the queen, Helewise made her way down to the stables, where the others were waiting for her. Sister Caliste and the lay brothers were already mounted; Josse stood beside Horace.
‘Ready, Sir Josse?’ She smiled at him. ‘We should make haste, for our business here is done and we must be on our way.’
‘My lady, I am not coming with you.’
‘Not…? But, Sir Josse, why ever not?’
He hesitated and she thought he looked awkward. ‘I have… The queen has asked me to fulfil a mission for her. It is a private matter.’ He hurried on as she made to comment, ‘Something that she confided in me yesterday.’
‘When she called you back into the hall,’ Helewise breathed. ‘Of course.’ Then a sudden flash of inspiration hit her and she realized that the queen had planned all this. Knowing Helewise, knowing the special place held by Sir Josse d’Acquin in the hearts of everyone at Hawkenlye, Eleanor had been fully aware who Helewise would ask to accompany her on this journey into the unknown. She reached out and caught hold of Josse’s sleeve. ‘Sir Josse, a word,’ she muttered.
They walked a few paces away from the others. ‘My lady?’ Josse asked in a whisper.
‘I realize that this matter must be sensitive and confidential, and that you are sworn to secrecy,’ she whispered back, ‘and I would not dream of trying to make you divulge any details. However, sensitive secrets habitually bring danger with them. Whatever you have to do, dear Josse, and wherever you have to go, take Gussie with you.’