Tiphaine came back around noon and made her brief report. ‘Nobody’s got anything to offer,’ she concluded, ‘but then it’s early days yet.’
‘Yes,’ Helewise agreed. Not even a full night and day had passed, she reflected. It was not very long, really.
‘Where’s Meggie?’ Tiphaine asked suddenly.
‘She hasn’t come back,’ Helewise answered. ‘Since she’s not here, I imagine she’s with Josse at the House in the Woods. She was there yesterday.’ She hesitated, then, since it was Tiphaine to whom she spoke, went on: ‘She seems to be able to pick up a — a sense of people, from the very ground itself,’ she said slowly.
Tiphaine reached across her and helped herself to an apple. ‘Of course she can. She’s Joanna’s child and Mag Hobson’s granddaughter.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Helewise smiled briefly. ‘What I was saying was that I guess she will be searching around the place where Rosamund was last seen, using whatever faculty she has that the rest of us lack to try to see what happened.’
Tiphaine nodded as if that made perfect sense. ‘Let’s hope she succeeds,’ she said.
Helewise sighed. There seemed nothing more to add, but she made herself think of the practicalities. ‘Tiphaine, I’m going to stay here, if Meggie doesn’t mind,’ she announced. ‘I need to be here, so that if anything happens at the abbey, or if there’s any news, you can come and tell me immediately.’
‘I’ll do that,’ Tiphaine said.
‘But we’ve got to eat, so I’m going over to the House in the Woods to fetch some supplies.’ Although she did not say so, she also wanted to see Josse. Her excuse to herself was that she needed to find out if there was any news. The truth, if she could admit it, was that she missed him. In this time of such anxiety, he was the one person she wanted to be with.
Tiphaine stood up. ‘I’m going back to the abbey,’ she said. ‘Something may turn up.’
Helewise tidied the little room, banked down the fire in the hearth and followed her out of the clearing.
Early as it was, Josse had already organized two search parties. Gus and Ella had gone with Will in a wide circle to the south of the house, and Geoffroi was with him, covering the ground to the north.
Ninian had not yet returned. It was now many hours since he had been gone, and all Meggie had been able to say was that he had said he was going to look for Rosamund. Josse wondered where he was. Ninian was a grown man and well used to looking after himself, but there was a streak of recklessness that ran through him and he had a temper as hot as any of his infamous paternal relatives.
Now, slowly and painstakingly covering the ground with the son of his blood close by, Josse sent up a silent prayer for the adopted son whom he loved as dearly.
Perhaps Ninian was with Meggie. She was now absent too. According to Will, she had slipped out of the House in the Woods during the time that Josse and Helewise were down in Tonbridge. She had not told Will where she was going, although Josse suspected she was at the hut in the forest. She would probably have met up with Helewise there. He said a prayer for them, too.
He stopped and straightened his back. Being tall, it was a strain to spend so long bent over studying the ground. He put both hands to the base of his spine, kneading the aching muscles with his knuckles. Geoffroi, noticing, called out, ‘What’s wrong?’ Then, quickly: ‘Have you found something?’
‘No, nothing,’ Josse replied. ‘Backache,’ he added tersely.
Geoffroi’s shoulders slumped. He resumed his searching.
They pressed on northwards through the dense woodland and presently came to the place where the trees began to thin out. Ahead was the road that curved around the northern border of the forest. To the left it led to Hawkenlye and, if you branched off it to the right, down to Tonbridge. In the opposite direction, the track led away to the east and the south-east, circling the forest and heading off into open countryside.
Side by side, Josse and his son emerged on to the road. Josse looked both ways, but there was nobody in sight. He glanced down at Geoffroi. ‘What should we do now?’ he asked. The question was rhetorical; it was hardly fair to expect an eleven-year-old boy to supply the answer to a question that had his father stumped.
Geoffroi frowned, an unaccustomed expression on his round, cheerful face. ‘We could follow the road for a while,’ he suggested. ‘We might find somebody working in the fields who was there yesterday and saw her — them — pass by.’
It seemed to Josse a pretty vain hope, but he had nothing better to suggest. They fell into step and set off westwards along the road, keeping a lookout for any distant figure in the open ground to their right.
It was Geoffroi who heard the sound. He stopped, caught at Josse’s sleeve and said, ‘Father, stop.’ He screwed up his face in concentration. Then: ‘Listen! I can hear horses.’
Josse strained his ears, and soon he, too, caught the faint sounds. A horse — no, two horses — coming towards them from the west. Travelling fast.
Josse stepped to the side of the road and pulled Geoffroi with him. If the riders were out on business of their own, they would pass straight by. If not…
Josse and Geoffroi waited.
The horses came into view around a bend in the track. Visibility was poor there on the fringes of the forest. The trees were almost bare now, but those lining the road were vast, their huge trunks and wide-spreading branches blocking the light. Nevertheless, as Josse peered at the riders, he thought he recognized one of them. He was, unless Josse was mistaken, one of Gervase de Gifford’s men.
He stepped in front of Geoffroi and, as the riders approached, raised a hand in greeting. The man in the lead pulled his horse violently to a halt, and the man behind, taken unawares, almost rode into him. When they had recovered, the first man said, ‘You are Sir Josse d’Acquin, aren’t you?’
‘Aye.’ Josse’s heart was pounding. He stared into the man’s face. He had brought news, of course he had. Was it good news? Oh, God, was it bad?
The man had slid off his horse and thrown the reins to his companion. Now, approaching Josse, he made a sketchy bow and said, ‘Sheriff Gifford sent me to find you. I’ve been trying to find Hawkenlye Manor, but it’s too well hidden for me, even though I’d have said I knew the lands well hereabouts…’ He paused, frowning.
‘What do you want with me?’ Josse said, barely managing to control his agonizing impatience.
The man must have picked up something of Josse’s mood. ‘Forgive me, sir,’ he muttered. Then he said, ‘They’ve found a body. The sheriff wants you to come with us, quick as you can.’
Josse felt as if his legs would collapse under him. A wave of nausea took him, and he saw black spots before his eyes. A body. Geoffroi was beside him, clutching at his hand, seeking reassurance.
Josse made himself stand upright. Fighting to keep his voice level, he said, ‘Whose body?’
The man had had time to realize his mistake. ‘I’m sorry, sir, that I am, really sorry.’
I’m sorry…
‘Who is it?’ Josse shouted.
‘It’s not the little girl. It’s a man, sir.’
Not the little girl. Josse put up his free hand and covered his face, for a moment shutting out the world and simply praying silently, over and over again, Thank you. Then, recalling Geoffroi beside him, he composed his expression and dropped his hand.
‘I will return to the house to leave my son there and to fetch my horse, then I will go with you,’ he said. He was quite surprised at how calm he sounded. ‘Will you wait here for me?’
The men glanced at each other. ‘I should return,’ the first man said dubiously. ‘Sheriff said not to be too long about it, as I was leading one of the groups looking for her.’
‘I’ll stay,’ the other man said. ‘My horse is blowing hard from the ride over here. She’s not as young as she was.’ He gave the mare an affectionate pat.