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‘Can you suggest any reason why Hugh would have been in the area in which we found him?’ Gervase asked. ‘It was out to the west of Hawkenlye Abbey, on a rise above the river.’

‘No.’

‘Does he have friends who live nearby? Kinsmen, perhaps?’

She looked at him levelly. ‘Our family is small. My husband has one elderly cousin, but she is unmarried and childless. I am an orphan and have no brothers or sisters. I have three children: Hugh, a daughter who lives with her husband close to Canterbury, and another son.’

There was a long pause. Then Gervase said, ‘And where does the other son live? Could Hugh have sought him out or gone to visit him?’

Her gaze did not falter. ‘He lives here with Felix and me. He is not here at present. He is a grown man and keeps his own friends. It is not for his mother to question his comings and goings. As to whether Hugh was seeking him out, I doubt it. The brothers are not close.’

She closed her lips very firmly, as if determined to say no more. But Gervase was not satisfied. ‘Will you elaborate, my lady?’

She gave a small sound of exasperation. ‘Brothers are natural rivals, my lord sheriff. From childhood, sibling boys will always wish to be the first in the affection of their mother and their father.’ She gave a brief shrug. ‘My sons are no exception.’

Josse watched as, slowly and inexorably, her stiff face dissolved and the tears formed in her eyes. ‘My sons…’ she whispered. Then, squeezing her eyes shut, she said, ‘Now I have but the one.’

Josse went to her, sensing from a pace away her struggle to hold on to herself. ‘My lady, we will leave you,’ he said. He glanced around for the servant, but the man was already hurrying over to his mistress. ‘Look after her,’ Josse said.

The servant’s expression implied very clearly that he did not need Josse to tell him.

Josse had expected Gervase to head straight back to Tonbridge, or possibly the abbey, for his duty was surely to resume the search for Rosamund and, now, the hunt for who was responsible for Hugh de Brionne’s death. With a painful effort, Josse turned his mind away from that. To his surprise, however, Gervase suggested they go to the House in the Woods. ‘We are quite near,’ he said, ‘and perhaps I may impose on you for some food and drink.’

‘Aye, of course,’ Josse replied. It made sense, he supposed, although something in Gervase’s manner was disturbing him. Did the sheriff share Josse’s awful suspicions about Ninian? Was his strange, abstracted air because he knew he would have to arrest Josse’s adopted son and charge him with murder?

With a shiver of dread, Josse put his spurs to Alfred’s sides and hurried after Gervase.

They rode hard, covering the miles swiftly and without speaking. At the House in the Woods, Josse asked Will to tend the sweating, blowing horses, and he led Gervase inside the hall, where a very welcome fire burned in the hearth. He was about to call out to Tilly to bring food and drink when Gervase, with a hand on his shoulder, spoke.

‘Josse, while I am here let me do as I said I would and check on your valuables,’ he said.

‘I don’t care about my valuables!’ Josse burst out. ‘Dear God, this is no time for that, Gervase!’

Gervase’s face hardened. ‘I am doing all I can to find the girl, Josse,’ he said coldly, ‘but please remember that I have other obligations, one of which is to prevent theft. It may be a minor matter to you, but it is not to me.’

Josse waved a hand. ‘Oh, very well,’ he said grudgingly. Gervase was right, and he knew it. Forcing himself to concentrate, he looked around the wide hall, and his eye fell on the big oak chest that stood beside the door leading to the kitchen. He strode across to it and flung back the lid, revealing some tarnished silver vessels that had belonged to his mother and a wickedly-curved blade that his father had brought back from Outremer. ‘Hardly worth a thief’s trouble,’ he remarked as Gervase knelt to look into the chest.

Gervase did not speak for a few moments. Then he said, ‘Your daughter has a jewel.’

‘Aye,’ Josse breathed. He had forgotten the Eye of Jerusalem, the great sapphire that had also accompanied his father home from crusade. ‘Follow me.’

He strode across the hall and, twitching aside a heavy hanging on the opposite wall, revealed a small wooden box set into the stonework. He reached inside his tunic and withdrew a small but heavy key, unlocking the little door. ‘We keep the stone in here,’ he said.

Gervase was right beside him, staring over his shoulder into the dark recesses of the box. ‘The jewel is your daughter’s, yet you have the key?’

‘Meggie has her own key,’ Josse said shortly.

‘How many people know about this hiding place?’

Josse shrugged. ‘Most of my household, I suppose, might know, although I don’t think-’

Suddenly, Gervase stiffened. ‘What was that?’

‘What?’ Josse felt alarm course through him.

‘I heard voices…’

Josse didn’t hesitate. Spinning round, he ran across the hall and down the steps into the cold air. Seeing nobody, he hurried on to the stable yard, where Will was calmly rubbing down Alfred’s damp coat while Gervase’s horse, its nose in the water bucket, awaited its turn. Other than Will, there was nobody there either.

‘Has anyone just arrived?’ he panted.

‘Not since you and the sheriff,’ Will replied, not turning from his task.

Puzzled, Josse trotted back to the hall. Gervase was still standing by the secret box, arms folded, a frown on his face. ‘Seems you were mistaken,’ Josse said.

Gervase raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? Perhaps it was your servants, back there.’ He nodded towards the door to the kitchen. Then, before Josse could reply, he went on, ‘This seems reasonably safe, Josse, although since you say most of your household know of its existence, I suggest you get a stonemason to make a new one and this time keep its location to yourself.’

‘I trust my people,’ Josse said shortly.

‘I’m sure you do.’ Gervase’s tone was terse. ‘Nevertheless, a secret known to many is no secret.’

‘But I-’ Josse began.

Gervase put up a hand to stop him. ‘I must go back to Tonbridge,’ he said. ‘I need to speak to my deputies and learn if they have anything to report.’

‘You will not stay and eat?’ Josse was surprised at his sudden decision to leave.

‘No, thank you. I will return to the abbey later today, and I hope to see you there, Josse.’

With the briefest of bows — a mere nod of the head — the sheriff turned and strode away.

The woman sank to her knees, her joints cracking and protesting as they made contact with the cold, hard stone. She closed her eyes, shutting out the view of the snow-clad mountains through the small window.

News had come to the lonely village; terrible news. When, she reflected bitterly, was there any other kind? Another stronghold had fallen, one they had all believed would stand for ever, unassailable as it was but to the nimble-footed goats. That devil in armour who led the enemy had somehow managed to bring a siege engine within range, and the usual brutal result had swiftly followed. Hangings, burnings, mutilations, terrible deaths.

The woman pressed her fists into her eyes, trying to blot out the vivid images. People bled when they burned. She hadn’t known that…

She began to pray, at first saying the words silently, then gradually moving her lips until finally she was speaking out loud, her voice waxing in strength. Slowly, as if it were some grace given to her because of the fervour of her prayer, she began to feel comforted. At first, it was no more than the softest of touches, as if an angel’s wing had brushed in a loving gesture against her cheek. She thought she heard a tiny snatch of music. Keeping her eyes closed, maintaining the fierce concentration, the sensations intensified, and suddenly it was as if a brilliant arrow of rich, golden light flashed across her vision.