Alys Clare - Ashes of the Elements

‘Yes. And, you see, nothing would have kept him away. Nothing ever did.’

‘Except death,’ he said.

‘Except death.’

He waited, knowing what would happen. And sure enough, after a while, as the ill tidings sank in and she began to realise that, from now on, she would have to face life without him, gradually the strength went out of her. Crumpling, she sagged against Josse and cried as if she would never stop.

* * *

But, as people always do, she did.

And, later, when talking of Tobias was all she wanted to do — all she could do — she told Josse.

Told him much that he already knew, but, in addition, something he hadn’t even guessed.

It was the one thing, Josse surmised, listening to her, which would allow her to derive some faint comfort from her lover’s death. Because, now that he was beyond harm, beyond the reach of all earthly justice and retribution, Esyllt could reveal that Tobias Durand had killed Ewen Asher.

And that, on the full moon night when she had come running out of the forest straight into Josse and the Abbess, bloodstained, naked from the waist down, she had been running from the trysting place which Tobias had found for them.

‘We were making love,’ she told Josse with a reminiscent glow of joy. ‘He was deep inside me, we were so enthralled in one another that we never even heard Ewen racing and crashing through the undergrowth until he was almost on top of us. Then Tobias leapt up, all bare, his manhood still stiff and proud, and that Ewen, he said, Tobias Durant, by my faith! What are you doing here?’

‘How did they know one another?’ Josse asked.

Again, a brief smile. ‘Ewen sold Tobias a hawk once, but it took sick and died.’

‘Ah.’

‘Then Tobias picked up his dagger and killed him,’ her quiet voice went on. ‘He had to kill him, you see,’ she said earnestly, ‘because otherwise he’d have told her. Told Petronilla. And Tobias didn’t want that.’

‘It’s hardly surprising,’ Josse said wryly. ‘Clever people like Tobias don’t slay the goose that lays the golden egg.’

Esyllt took a moment to work that out, then, turning to him, said, ‘No, Sir Josse. You’re wrong. Oh, Tobias liked being a rich woman’s husband, of course he did. So would any man, brought up in miserable poverty like he was. But the reason he didn’t want Ewen Asher telling Petronilla was because he didn’t want to hurt her.’

‘You’re telling me,’ Josse said slowly, ‘that Tobias cared for his wife?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Esyllt said easily. ‘He had a loving heart, did Tobias. There was room for us both in it, her and me, only she didn’t see it that way.’

‘No, she wouldn’t,’ Josse murmured.

‘Hm?’

But the remark hadn’t really been intended for her ears. He said, ‘Nothing.’

* * *

He sat on with her for some time, still with his arm around her. She seemed calmer now, and it encouraged him to ask her what she would do now.

‘Now? Now, I’m going down to Tonbridge to tell that Sheriff Pelham. he can let Seth Miller go. There’s no reason for me to keep my secret, now Tobias is beyond the reach of the law.’ Briefly her face fell, but then, rallying, she gave a fleeting smile. ‘Not that folks will thank me for getting Seth set free, it’s been nicer hereabouts since the three of them, Ramm, Ewen and Seth, were out of the way. Still,’ she sighed, ‘you can’t execute a man just for being a rascal and a nuisance, can you?’

‘No,’ Josse agreed. ‘Just as well, there’d be bodies hanging from every gibbet in the land if we could.’

It was a feeble joke, but she gave an obliging chuckle.

He said, after a while, ‘I didn’t actually mean now, this minute, Esyllt. I meant, what will you do with your life?’

She sighed. ‘What a question, sir knight. I have no idea.’

‘You are valued here in the Abbey,’ he said.

‘You think I should become a nun?’

‘No, Esyllt, heaven forbid! I certainly do not!’ he exclaimed. This time, her laugh sounded more like the Esyllt of old. ‘I meant that I think you might consider staying right where you are, working with your old dears.’

She drew a sharp breath. ‘Stay here! Without him! Oh, but I don’t think I could do that.’

‘My lovely girl,’ Josse said gently, ‘you will miss him wherever you are. But here, although the memories will be more poignant, at least you will be engaged in valuable work, and work, moreover, for which you appear to have a singular aptitude. Would not that be a consolation, to be needed?’ He hugged her to him. ‘And, too, at least here you would be surrounded by familiar faces — friendly faces — to help you when you grieve.’

‘They’ll still be my friends?’ she asked, astonished, pulling away slightly and staring at him in disbelief. ‘Even when they know what I’ve done?’

‘Aye, child.’ He gave her a little shake. ‘Many of the good nuns, despite what you may think, probably have hidden memories of long-ago love, passion, even. Some of them may understand. And I don’t believe they would condemn you, not when Our Lord Himself, whom they worship and serve, taught us that we should love one another. And, although I know that the Abbess looks and, on occasions, sounds like a lion, I can assure you that she’s got a kind heart and a forgiving nature.’

Esyllt shot him a shrewd look. ‘And you speak as one who knows,’ she murmured.

‘Eh? What was that?’

At last, she gave a wholehearted smile that actually put a dimple back in her cheek. Laughing, she said, ‘Never you mind.’

It was many weeks before Josse went back to Hawkenlye Abbey.

With the solutions to both murders now found, there had been no excuse for a visit. And Josse found that the prospect of calling on the Abbess purely for a friendly chat was, since that night in the forest, distinctly embarrassing.

We were not ourselves, he repeatedly told himself. We had been drugged, although nobody had intended it to happen. And anything we did or said under the influence of whatever that powerful potion was, we can scarcely be held responsible.

But, reason as he might, he found it hard to banish from his mind the image of a suddenly young-looking woman with reddish curly hair, whose throat was unexpectedly smooth and who nestled her bottom into his crotch as if she had been wed to him for a decade or more …

He took himself off to France, and paid his family in Acquin a prolonged visit. He stayed with them well into October, long enough to celebrate bringing home the last of the apple harvest and to enjoy with them the few days of leisure they allowed themselves after all the hard toil.

Sitting next to his sister-in-law Marie one evening, after a prolonged meal at which rather too much cider had been served, he found himself telling her all about Hawkenlye Abbey. And its Abbess.

‘A formidable woman,’ Marie commented, when, his lengthy reminiscences at last over, she could get a word in.

‘Formidable? No!’ he began, the protest instinctive. But, on reflection, that was probably how the Abbess would seem, to someone hearing about her at second hand. ‘Well, maybe,’ he amended. ‘But a good person to have at your side in a crisis.’

‘Evidently,’ remarked Marie. The baby at her breast ceased its suckling and gave a strangely adult-sounding little sigh. Marie looked down, her face full of love. ‘Had enough, ma petite ?’ she asked softly.

‘She’s a beautiful child,’ Josse said, smoothing his smallest niece’s soft baby hair with his fingertips. ‘I’m glad I was here to attend her christening.’

‘As a good uncle should,’ Marie said. She shifted the baby on to her shoulder, rubbing the little back, and the child emitted a belch. ‘Ah, there’s a clever girl! Well done, my Madoline.’