Alys Clare - The Tavern in the Morning

‘I was told nobody was at home,’ Josse said irritably. ‘In the castle. At Tonbridge. The Clares have gone to some other residence of theirs, to escape the sickness down in the valley. Their man told me nobody was at home, but I saw him. The man. Then I waited, and, when he sneaked out at dusk, I followed him.’

‘Ah, I see.’ Helewise nodded. ‘Was he the man from the inn?’

‘I don’t know.’ Josse frowned, the movement of his brows bringing his fresh white bandage down low over his eyes. ‘Every instinct tells me he was, but I have no grounds whatsoever for saying so.’

‘Assuming he was,’ Helewise said tentatively, ‘why should he attack you? Because he knows you’re investigating the death at the inn, and he’s afraid you’ll find out something he doesn’t want you to?’

Josse said tiredly, ‘Abbess, we don’t even know that the man at the inn is involved in the death! In fact, since he himself seems to have been the intended victim, then he’s surely the last person we should suspect. A man’s hardly going to poison himself, now, is he?’

‘No, no.’ It was her turn to frown. After a moment’s thought, she said, ‘Sir Josse, what about this? Somebody else knew why he had come to Tonbridge. They tried to stop him — with the poisoned pie — but the wrong man died. Now this stranger is pursuing whatever brought him here, and that’s why he attacked you. Because he must keep his purpose here a secret. Which surely points to its being something suspicious? Something, can we propose, to do with your mysterious woman hiding in the woods?’

‘You reason well, Abbess.’ He gave her a weak grin. ‘As ever. But no!’ he said suddenly. ‘What of our earlier conclusion, that he can’t have been here for any evil purpose because, if he had been, why advertise his presence by spending the evening at the inn?’

‘Oh.’ Helewise felt deflated. But then she said, ‘Unless he had to go to the inn!’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know … to meet someone? To seek information?’

‘Hm.’ Josse closed his eyes, and, in repose, Helewise saw the lines of pain and fatigue in his face.

‘You need to sleep,’ she said, moving away from his bed. ‘Let me worry over this puzzle for a while, Sir Josse.’

He opened his eyes again. ‘I wish you joy of it,’ he murmured. Then, making a visible effort, he added gallantly, ‘I can think of nobody more likely to come up with an answer.’

* * *

His faith in her was, she had to admit as she prepared for bed that night, generous but ill-founded.

The trouble was, there was so much that they had to assume.

That Tilly’s stranger and the man who attacked Josse were one and the same, for one thing. That the man had been searching for the mysterious woman, for another. Oh. dear, this was getting them nowhere!

She lay down, wondering if there were any chance at all of quieting her mind to enable her to sleep.

Poisoned pie. An attack in the woods, a child with blue eyes, a poultice that managed to win Sister Euphemia’s vote of approval.

Something was stirring on the very edge of Helewise’s mind. Mentally, she ran towards it, only to have it recede.

Go to sleep, she ordered herself. There’s nothing more to be done tonight.

* * *

She went to see Josse in the morning, after Tierce. He looked better, but was very drowsy. Helewise was quite relieved when Sister Euphemia asked her not to stay with him long. She had nothing to tell him, and didn’t want to admit it.

Back in her room, she was surprised a little later by Sister Ursel announcing a visitor.

‘A man, Abbess, well-dressed, well-set up, like.’

‘I see, Sister. And his name?’

‘He says he’s Denys de Courtenay, Abbess. Means not a jot to me.’

Nor to me, Helewise thought. ‘Did he say what he wanted?’

‘He did not. A private matter, for your Abbot, he said. Course, I put him right on that, soon as you like!’

‘You’d better show him in, Sister Ursel.’

A stranger, Helewise thought as Sister Ursel went to fetch the visitor. Anybody familiar with the area would know that Hawkenlye Abbey was headed by an Abbess …

Sister Ursel opened the door, announced, ‘Denys de Courtenay,’ then, with a brief nod to the Abbess, departed.

The man stood just inside the door. Helewise looked at him, briefly taking in his details. Quite tall, with dark, shiny hair, worn a little longer than was the fashion. Dark eyes, with a particularly watchful look. Handsome face, wearing a wide smile. Clothes well-made, the colours chosen carefully to blend together pleasingly; dark red hose, tunic of a slightly lighter shade.

A man, Helewise thought, who was aware of his impact on others and who enhanced it to the utmost of his ability.

A man whom she mistrusted on sight.

‘Come in and be seated,’ she said, indicating the wooden stool she kept for guests.

‘So kind, Abbess — er — Helewise.’ The smile stretched still wider, revealing white, even teeth. ‘Good of you to see me. I am most grateful.’

‘Is there any reason why I shouldn’t?’ she asked, making herself return his smile.

He laughed. ‘No, no, of course not!’ He lowered himself on to the stool. ‘I meant only that you must be busy and I am intruding on your time.’

‘We are here to help those who ask it of us,’ she said.

‘I do ask your help,’ he said, his voice urgent suddenly. ‘For your prayers and your help. In a delicate matter, indeed, a family matter, one which has brought me here in wretched anxiety, eager to offer my support and my comfort, only-’ He smiled at her again. ‘But, no. I must begin at the beginning.’

‘It would be best,’ she agreed. I must keep an open mind! she told herself firmly. But, fighting as she was with the instinct that told her she was witnessing a very clever, calculated piece of play-acting, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. ‘Pray, begin.’

He sat in silence for a moment, eyes raised towards the ceiling, hands pressed together, for all the world as if he sought heavenly guidance. Then, bringing his gaze to rest on Helewise, he said, ‘Abbess, I have a niece, by name Joanna. She is lost, and I fear for her very life.’ He leaned forward, as if increased closeness could convince her of his sincerity. ‘Both her parents are dead and her elder brother died in infancy, the year after she was born. She is alone, Abbess, and this is not a fit world for a girl alone!’

‘How old is she?’

He gave a short, indulgent laugh. ‘I say a girl, for indeed that is how I think of her, the dear child. But, let me see…’ He made a pretence of calculating, counting on his fingers. ‘She would be twenty-four years old now! In faith, I can scarce believe it!’ He laughed again. ‘How they do grow, Abbess!’

‘Quite,’ Helewise said. ‘How does she come to be lost, sir?’

‘Ah, Abbess, a terrible tale! She was wed, to an older man, yes, but a fine one. He cared for her, cherished her, showered gifts and trinkets on her, and made her lady of his estates. But tragedy struck, for he was out hunting when he was thrown from his horse and killed! Dead before they got him back to his own hall, God rest his soul.’

‘Amen,’ said the Abbess. ‘How shocking it must have been for your niece, to lose a husband in such circumstances. When did this happen?’

‘A much-loved husband,’ Denys said, ignoring her question. ‘ Much loved, despite the difference in their ages.’ He seemed, Helewise noticed, strangely insistent on the point. ‘Yes, a shock indeed. And, Abbess, I hate to say this, but the horror of it unhinged my niece.’

‘Unhinged her?’

‘Yes.’ He gave a dramatic sigh. ‘Before his family could step in and take care of her, she had run away! Can you believe it, Abbess Helewise? She packed up a few belongings, crept out at dead of night and was gone! Lost!’