Alys Clare - Heart of Ice

‘You were not able to find him in Troyes to seek his help and to give him the warning?’ de Gifford asked. Josse, who had been wondering the same thing, nodded.

‘I searched for him, naturally, as soon as I had found somebody to look after Grandfather. But I could not find him.’

‘Perhaps, seeing the burning lodging house where he knew you to be staying, he guessed that he too might be about to be attacked and made a run for it?’ de Gifford suggested.

‘No.’ Sabin spoke the denial as if there could be no shade of doubt. Then, with a slight frown, ‘Well, perhaps. But Nicol would not have deserted me — us, that is. He must have been in hiding somewhere. . I do not know. But, seeing what he believed to be Grandfather’s and my fate, who can blame him for fleeing Troyes?’

I could, Josse thought, and, from the look on his face, so could de Gifford. Both of us might have taken the time to see if we could help you and the old grandfather, or at least to confirm that you were really dead, before we turned tail and ran.

‘So you followed Nicol to Boulogne, and then across the Channel to Hastings?’ de Gifford was prompting.

‘Yes. He’d said that he would sail home via those places because his home was in Newenden, and there was quite a good road to the town from the port. My search for him was as Sir Josse suggested, with the exception that it was at Hawkenlye that I found out Nicol was dead.’ She paused, eyes downcast, as if affected by the memory of that moment. ‘I heard some people talking and they spoke of the dead young man found in the Vale; they even spoke his name, so I was left in no doubt. I thought that he must have died from the sickness, for I already knew that he had gone to the Abbey in the hope of being cured. Although, even then, I experienced a sudden intensifying of my dread, almost as if I knew in my heart what had really happened. For sure, I knew that Grandfather and I must remain in hiding, and I hastened back to Robertsbridge and reminded Stephen that, if anyone came asking, he had never heard of Sabin and Benoit de Retz and they certainly were not secreted away in the guest house of his Abbey.’

‘So what persuaded you to break cover?’ Josse asked.

‘You,’ she said simply. ‘You came to Robertsbridge and Grandfather, who is in the habit of listening at doors, windows and keyholes, heard you tell Stephen that Nicol was murdered. I then had two options: to take Grandfather back home and hope that our particular fate’ — she glanced at de Gifford — ‘never finds us, or to come out of hiding and find out the identity of the man who killed Nicol and have him hanged. Since the man undoubtedly knows who we are and where we live and work, the chance of his failing to find us is negligible. That left only the other option. So here I am.’

‘You say you would see the killer hanged,’ de Gifford said, ‘but I must tell you, my lady, that here in England we do not tolerate summary justice. The man would have to be tried and found guilty before such a punishment was imposed.’

‘Naturally,’ Sabin said with a touch of impatience. ‘But I would tell them that the man killed Nicol.’

‘You have proof?’ de Gifford asked.

‘Yes. No. Proof would be found,’ she finished grandly.

‘How do you propose that we find this man, when you implied just now that you do not know who he is?’ Josse said.

Sabin turned her clear blue eyes to him. ‘He will come after Grandfather and me and you will catch him and arrest him,’ she said, as if explaining to one whose reasoning was particularly slow.

De Gifford gave a short bark of laughter. ‘Indeed? We put the pair of you in some nice, obvious spot and wait for this man to attack, then pounce on him and throw him into gaol?’

‘Yes.’

‘ No , my lady,’ de Gifford said very firmly. ‘I would never put you at such risk.’

‘Then what do you suggest?’ she said angrily. ‘Grandfather and I will die unless this man is stopped, for he will not give up until our lips are sealed by death.’

‘What is this secret that must not be told?’ Josse asked. ‘We have surmised that the man who murdered Nicol and who seeks you and your grandfather has come to England on some secret and deadly mission, and I guess that somehow you and Nicol have discovered what it is.’ She turned to him as he spoke and he saw a strange expression fleetingly flash in her eyes; he must have been wrong, but he thought it looked like relief. ‘Will you not reveal the truth to us?’ he pleaded.

She kept her eyes on him. ‘No,’ she said, with a small smile. ‘If I were to do so, then you too would be in danger.’

De Gifford gave a snort of disbelief. ‘You surely do not think that this man will go on killing until everyone to whom you could possibly have unburdened yourself is dead!’ he exclaimed.

‘No, I do not think that,’ Sabin agreed. ‘He knows, I believe, that we are aware that we should never speak of what we know. It was, as I said, only the wine that led to Grandfather revealing the secret to Nicol.’

Something had dawned on Josse. ‘The killer went to Troyes to murder you and your grandfather,’ he said slowly. ‘He followed you there from your home, wherever that is, where you came by the secret. Why did you go to Troyes? Why select that town in particular as a hiding place?’

‘We had a good excuse to go there,’ Sabin said, ‘for there is a wider choice of wares available there than anywhere else in northern France and there were, as I have explained, particular ingredients — particular purchases that we wished to make. Our — the person whom we serve accepted that we must make the journey but we knew that, for her own good reasons, she would tell nobody else where we were bound. We hoped that the killer would not find out our destination and I do not see how he could have done; it is likely that he had a simple stroke of luck and spoke to someone who had seen us on the road. From then, I imagine it was quite easy to follow our trail; the combination of an old, blind man on a fat bay and a woman on a grey is not a common one.’

Josse was working hard, trying to store away the fragments of information which, despite her clear intention to the contrary, Sabin was unwittingly giving away. He heard de Gifford ask her a question — something about what work she and her grandfather did — and he heard Sabin politely refuse to tell him.

Josse, however, thought that he already knew.

Sabin had given him other clues, too, including one small fact that nagged away at him because it chimed with something that he had picked up recently; a piece of court gossip, he had thought, although now, faced with the enigma of Sabin de Retz, he was beginning to wonder.

De Gifford was suggesting that they return to their respective dwellings. ‘We can gain nothing from standing out here in the cold,’ he said, ‘and I have decided upon a course of action.’

‘What is it?’ Sabin asked.

‘Aye?’ Josse spoke at the same time.

De Gifford looked from one to the other. ‘It is, in a way, a variation of the plan that the lady proposed.’ He gave a small bow in Sabin’s direction. ‘I suggest that you and your grandfather move into my own house, where I have servants to care for you and where I can arrange an armed guard to protect you. Having ensured your safety and my staff’s silence, I will then spread false word that you are still lodging at the tavern and wait-’

‘Wait for him to set fire to that too?’ Josse broke in, angry at the way in which de Gifford appeared to be disregarding the safety of the tavern and everyone within it. ‘That will please Goody Anne!’

‘I will protect the tavern,’ de Gifford said calmly. ‘This man, whoever he is, will not find it an easy matter to approach the Tonbridge inn and fire it; not with my men waiting for him.’