Alys Clare - Ashes of the Elements

She lowered her head. In a muffled voice, she said, ‘Sir Knight, what can you mean?’

If she wasn’t prepared to bring it out into the open, then he was. ‘You told me,’ he said, careful to keep his voice down, ‘that Tobias had put aside the ways of his misspent youth. That his side of the bargain which you struck was that he would be a model husband, as respectable as a man married to a lady such as yourself ought to be. And that, my lady, was a lie.’ Again, she kept her silence. ‘Wasn’t it?’ he hissed.

She rounded on him. ‘All right, yes !’ she hissed back. ‘Are you satisfied now? Do you wish to witness my humiliation as well as my grief? For shame, Sir Knight! For shame!’

Humiliation was not the word he would have used; intent only on finding out all that there was to find out, he probed on. ‘I know that he was in the habit of visiting the Great Forest,’ he said, ‘because I saw him there, on two occasions. Indeed, he made no secret of his preference for the forest fringes as a fine place to fly his falcon. But that was merely a cover, wasn’t it?’ He wanted to take hold of her, give her the comfort of his touch even as he interrogated her. ‘He was in league with Hamm Robinson, wasn’t he? Hamm, and his fellow thieves Ewen Asher and Seth Miller. The three of them took the risks and did the dirty work, and passed on the valuable objects they found for Tobias to sell. Isn’t that right, Petronilla?’

She had been watching him as he spoke, mouth opening in a silent gasp. She was going to deny it all, he thought grimly, tell him he was mistaken. What would he do then?

In tones of ice, she said, ‘I have never heard of any of those men.’

Well, there was no reason for Tobias to have mentioned their names. But, on the other hand, she sounded so convincing! Josse would have sworn she was telling the truth! With the distinct feeling that he was racing off down a dead end, he said, ‘Maybe not, but all the same, lady, it’s my belief that Tobias knew them, nevertheless.’ Frustration surging through him, he said, ‘I could have proved it, I know I could! I still can, maybe, there must be a way to trace the things they took from the forest, and-’

She did not let him go on. Disdain making her voice harsh, she said, ‘My husband had no dealings with petty thieves.’ Fixing Josse with a furious stare, she went on: ‘In God’s name, Sir Knight, he married a rich woman! What need had he to go peddling trinkets?’

It was a good question. Frowning, Josse began, ‘Well, I would scarcely call them trinkets, and-’

Again, she interrupted. ‘How can you!’ she cried, her thin hands twisting together in her distress. ‘My husband’s body is scarcely cold, and here you stand, accusing him of some crime more suited to forest peasants than to the gracious, noble man that he was!’

Josse bowed his head. Poor woman, he thought, she is in shock. The terrible events of this morning still overwhelm her, and here I am with my small accusations, pursuing a matter which, to anybody but me, must appear trivial by comparison. Guilt flooding through him, he raised his eyes and said, ‘Lady, forgive me. My remarks are inappropriate. This business can wait until a later-’ No. He must not even say that. Putting all the sincerity he could muster into his voice, he said gently, ‘Petronilla, I came to help you. Tell me, if you will, how I may.’

She was staring at him, and, in the light from the open door, he could see her face clearly. The angry, offended expression slowly cleared, and for a moment she looked the proud, haughty noblewoman bearing her pain with dignity. ‘I thank you, Sir Knight,’ she began, ‘there will be matters to attend to, decisions to be made as to…’

Slowly she trailed, to a halt. As if drawn by some force she could not resist, her eyes returned to Tobias’s body. With a tiny whimper, she knelt down, her full skirts pooling around her, and, with the tender touch of a mother on the face of a sleeping child, she smoothed the thick hair back from the ruined forehead.

‘He is dead,’ she whispered. ‘Dead.’

Then, bending low over the corpse, she began to sob.

Josse stood the heartbreaking sounds for a moment, then, leaning down, took firm hold of Petronilla’s shoulders and raised her to her feet. ‘Lady, you must be brave,’ he said. ‘Come, sit with me, and we shall send for some heartening drink, something to give you the strength to cope with what you must endure.’

She allowed herself to be led only a few paces away from the steps where Tobias lay. Then, turning back, she murmured, ‘I do not want to leave him.’

‘You need not, lady,’ Josse said, ‘for now, we shall remain close by him, and-’

As if she had not heard, Petronilla said, ‘He cannot leave me now. He must stay here, in my hall, and I shall have his bright company all the time.’

A shock ran through Josse, the frightening sense that, suddenly, he was in the presence of madness. ‘He must be tended to properly, Petronilla,’ he said gently. ‘He cannot remain here long. It is not-’ He searched for a word with sufficient weight, gave up and ended weakly, ‘It is not fitting. ’

She was still staring at Tobias. Crooning gently, a faint smile crossed her face.

‘Come, we’ll plan together where he is to be buried,’ Josse suggested. ‘Somewhere close, think you, so that you may often go to visit the place, and recall your happy times? Or-’

She had spun round, and now her attention was fully on Josse. ‘Happy times?’ she echoed. Some violent inner struggle evident in her face, she began to speak, then stopped. But, as emotion seared through her again, the words she was trying to hold in burst out of her.

‘There was pain in this house!’ she cried. ‘I told you that! Pushing her face close to his, her terrible anguish as readable as an illuminated script, she said, ‘You said you knew my husband visited the Great Forest, and you asked me why. Do you want to know? Do you?’ She was all but spitting at him. ‘Well, Sir Knight, you shall know! I will tell you what he did in the forest.’

She paused, drawing in a sudden sharp breath. As if bracing herself, she briefly shut her eyes, clasping her hands on her breast as if in silent prayer.

Then, quite calmly, she said, ‘He lay with a woman. A young and vivacious woman whose soft flesh yielded to his caresses, whose moist body opened to his, whose full lips kissed his eager mouth.’ A violent sob broke out of her, shaking the thin frame. She added, her voice a mere whisper, ‘A beautiful woman, who could give him all the passion he wouldn’t take from me.’

Josse was shaken to his very core. Was she right? Could she possibly know, for sure? He said, ‘How can you be certain of this?’

Her face took on a look of cunning. ‘You forget,’ she said. ‘You asked me did I still have him followed, and I said-’

‘You said, rarely.’ Josse concluded for her.

Dear God. Poor, miserable soul! Was it the womanising that she had suspected, all along? Had it only been Josse’s prejudiced view, already branding Tobias as being in league with Hamm Robinson, that had led him to misread her comments? To believe that she meant her husband had been a thief, when in fact, handsome and comely man that he was, his offence was that he had been unable to resist a pretty face?

I was wrong, Josse thought, guilt flooding through him. And, because I was wrong, a man lies dead in his own hall. He shot a glance at Petronilla. If I had guessed earlier, he berated himself, then maybe I could have spoken to Tobias. Persuaded him that it was folly to persist in what he was doing. Tell him that he must make a clean break from the loving bonds that held him, and be true to his wife. True to his promise to her.