Alys Clare - The Rose of the World

‘But she’s been here, hasn’t she? She’s come and gone, along with the rest?’

Now Will looked at him. ‘No, sir. She left some time yesterday morning.’

Anxiety burning through him like fire, Josse grabbed Will’s arm. ‘When did she leave?’ He felt Will wince and let go of him, muttering an apology.

Will’s deep eyes were screwed up tightly as he tried to think. ‘Well, it was after you and the abbess — you and the lady Helewise, that is — had ridden off to find the sheriff and the lady’s son.’ His frown intensifying, he added, ‘Reckon she was still here after you came back, though I couldn’t swear to it.’

Had she been at the house when he returned? Josse tried to think. So much had happened yesterday, and they had all been beside themselves with worry. Meggie had definitely been there before Josse and Helewise left for Tonbridge — he remembered her saying how Rosamund had been happily chattering to her. But he did not think he had seen her when he got home.

He tried to take it in. Meggie had left the House in the Woods yesterday morning and, according to Helewise, she had not gone to the hut. Nobody, it seemed, had seen her for well over a night and a day…

Will cleared his throat and said tentatively, ‘Sir?’

Somehow Josse knew he wasn’t going to like whatever it was that Will was preparing to tell him. ‘What is it?’ he asked tersely.

With a visible effort, Will met his eyes. ‘The lady’s mare’s missing.’

‘Daisy?’ It was a stupid and totally irrelevant question.

‘Daisy,’ Will confirmed.

‘She’s been stolen?’ It was not all that likely, since the House in the Woods was well hidden and some distance from the road. But then Gervase had said something about robbers…

Will sighed. ‘Reckon Meggie came for her,’ he said.

‘Why? What grounds do you have to say that?’ Josse demanded.

‘Because I’d put the mare’s bridle aside on my workbench ready to repair a bit of loose stitching, and whoever took the horse knew where to find it. So…’

‘So it could only be one of us,’ Josse finished for him.

There was a painful pause. Where are you, Meggie? Josse asked silently.

Somebody must know where she was.

He ran from the stables, across the yard and took the steps into the hall at a couple of bounds, the exertion giving rise to another groan of pain. He flung open the heavy wooden door and burst into the hall. A fire was blazing in the hearth, and around it sat Geoffroi, Gus and Tilly. Tilly’s younger children, subdued for once, sat in a corner quietly playing with their toys. The eldest child, a boy, sat close to his father, and Gus had an arm around the lad’s thin shoulders. Ella, presumably, was in her habitual place in the kitchen.

Just as Will had said, Meggie was not there. Josse repeated his question: ‘Has Meggie been home today?’

Gus looked up at him, surprised. ‘No! We thought she’d be over at the hut.’

‘She’s not. She hasn’t been there at all.’

‘Oh, no! Then where is she?’ Geoffroi looked wildly around, his expression anguished.

‘Will thinks she’s taken Daisy,’ Josse added. ‘Where can she have gone?’

‘She’s probably met up with one of the other search parties and gone back with them,’ Gus said reasonably. ‘Dominic was here earlier. He found nothing,’ he added quickly, in response to Josse’s unspoken enquiry, ‘and he said he was going to make his way slowly back to New Winnowlands and aim to be there as darkness fell.’

Dominic. Oh, Dominic. ‘How is he?’ Josse said gruffly.

Gus shrugged. ‘He’s holding up.’

Poor Dominic had to go home to Paradisa this night, Josse realized, and tell her the child is still out there somewhere. Dear Lord, help them both.

Tilly got up and went to stand beside Josse. ‘Come and eat,’ she urged. ‘Ella’s got hot food all ready, and there’s a jug of spiced wine just waiting for the hot poker to make it steam.’

Food. Wine. Josse realized how hungry he was. He subsided on to a bench by the fire and, looking gratefully at Tilly, said, ‘Aye, I like the sound of both of those.’

Tilly hurried off to fetch the food, and Gus prepared the wine. Josse took a deep draught — he felt the warmth and the alcohol hit his empty belly and for a moment his head swam — and he emitted a long, ‘Aaaah,’ of satisfaction. Presently, Tilly returned with a platter of mutton stew in rich gravy, with chunks of root vegetables and a generous hunk of bread, and Josse ate as if he hadn’t seen food for days. It did not take him long to clear the platter and, putting it down, he said, ‘I have some news. Not much, but I wish to keep you all informed. Gus, would you please fetch Will and Ella?’

While they waited, Josse wondered idly how many other knightly households included their servants in family discussions. He smiled wryly to himself. His no longer felt like a knightly household — if, indeed, anywhere he had lived fitted that description, whatever it meant — and he had never been entirely sure where kin ended and kith began.

Geoffroi got up and came to sit beside him on the bench. Josse put his arm round the boy, just as Gus had done to his own son. It felt good.

When Will and Ella had settled — the diffident Ella so far to the back of the little group that Josse could hardly see her — he told them everything that had happened since he had been summoned that morning by the sheriff’s man, Tomas, and ridden off with him. His listeners made no comment beyond a few soft muttering among themselves, so Josse went on to outline Abbess Caliste’s thoughts on what might have happened.

It was Gus who spoke first. ‘It’s either a falling out among the two people who slept in the camp, then, and in that case probably nothing to do with our Rosamund.’ A frown creased his brow. ‘It could be that the man who took her was challenged by someone, who he fought with and who was killed in the fight. Or else maybe it was the dead man that took her, and somebody objected to that and went to try to take her back.’ His frown cleared. ‘I reckon that’s the most likely way of it.’

‘Aye,’ Josse said thoughtfully. ‘Aye, it’s possible.’

‘This other man got the better of the abductor,’ Gus went on, ‘and as a result of a particularly good punch, the man fell backwards and crushed his skull.’ He looked around the company. ‘So, assuming that if this other man attacked the dead man because he didn’t hold with him taking a little girl, what did he do?’

Josse had been wondering the same thing. ‘He might not know who she is and where she belongs,’ he said slowly. ‘He might even now be trying to take her back home, but unable to because he doesn’t know where home is.’

‘She’d tell him, surely?’ It was Tilly’s voice, and Josse looked at her in surprise. She had come a long way, he reflected absently, from the skinny, nervous, shy little tavern girl she once was… ‘Rosamund’s not slow to speak up, is she? When someone rescued her and asked where he ought to take her, she’d say, I live at New Winnowlands, and she’d be able to tell him where that was.’

‘Even if she couldn’t,’ Geoffroi put in, ‘and I could, and she’s the same age as me, she’d have said something like I know them at the abbey so you can take me there.’

Josse nodded slowly. ‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you?’ he said vaguely. Something was troubling him. It had begun earlier as a small, dark suspicion right on the edge of thought, and he had been able to push it away without too much effort. Now it was back, insistently demanding his attention. And it wasn’t small any more.

Gus was looking at him. ‘What is it?’ he asked quietly. It was as if he already knew…