Alys Clare - The Rose of the World

Josse let his eyes roam around the circle of faces lit by the flickering firelight. Will, and Ella crouched back in the shadows. Gus and Tilly, all three children now sitting close to their parents, as if they had been drawn there for security. Geoffroi, his round face turned up to Josse so full of trust.

Josse knew he had to tell them. ‘I have been thinking,’ he said heavily. ‘There is one set of circumstances I can envisage that would explain everything.’

‘What?’ Tilly asked nervously. Gus dropped his eyes.

Josse took a deep breath, exhaled and then breathed in again. ‘Let us suppose that, indeed, the person who caught up with Rosamund and her abductor by the trees above the river had gone to fetch her back. He challenges the man who has her. They fight. The abductor strikes his head and he dies. The man who has come to rescue Rosamund sees what he has done and knows he will be judged a murderer. He has struck and killed a man, and he will probably hang.’ Josse’s voice broke on the word, but he made himself go on.

‘Who could this man be?’ he demanded roughly, staring round at the others. ‘Someone who cares about Rosamund, obviously, someone who will not sit by while evil is done to an innocent child. Someone who, having rescued her, cannot bring her back because he’ll be arrested and charged with murder.’

‘Is it Dominic?’ asked a small voice beside him. ‘You would kill a man who took me, Father, I know you would.’

Josse hugged his son to him. ‘Aye, Geoffroi, I’d do so willingly if it was the only way I could get you back,’ he agreed. ‘But it can’t be Dominic, can it? He was here earlier, you told me?’ He looked enquiringly at Gus, who nodded.

‘He’s called in more than once in the course of the day,’ Gus confirmed. ‘I don’t think he’d have let the rest of us go on searching and worrying if he knew the little lass was safe.’

‘I agree,’ Josse said. ‘So, who else could it be?’ With the exception of Gus, they were all looking stunned. ‘Gus?’

Gus shook his head. ‘I don’t want to say, sir. It’s murder, in the eyes of the law. I — no.’

Josse sighed. ‘Very well. We have not seen Meggie since yesterday, although I do not for a moment think that, strong as she is, she could have inflicted those punches on the dead man’s face. Who else is missing?’

They all looked round. On every face but Gus’s, puzzlement slowly gave way to realization, and then to deep dismay.

Geoffroi whispered, ‘Oh, no!’

Josse hugged him tightly. ‘We do not know for sure, son,’ he said. ‘But I fear we must prepare ourselves to face the possibility that the man who fought the dead man is the one person who ought to be here and isn’t. Who, if I’m right, none of us has seen since the evening we discovered that Rosamund was missing.’

He looked round at them all. In case anybody was still in doubt, he told them. Softly, he uttered the name: ‘Ninian.’

Gervase had almost run through the list of people he was summoning to the Hawkenlye infirmary to see if they knew the identity of the dead man. None of the nuns recognized him, and Gervase had no more success with the monks from the vale. Brother Saul had helpfully brought a party of visiting pilgrims with him but, to a man, they had briefly gazed at the dead man’s face and mutely shaken their heads.

The parties out searching for Rosamund were regularly reporting back to Gervase — and the long succession of: ‘Nothing yet, sir,’ was becoming extremely frustrating and very worrying — and he had paraded each and every one of his men past the body. Nobody recognized him.

The victim was a man of some means; that was evident by his clothing and the fine leather of his boots. Studying him now, Gervase looked at the hands. They were well shaped, reasonably clean and nicely kept. The dead man was no peasant dressed up in stolen garments. Gervase looked at the neatly-cut hair. That, too, indicated a man with the money and the time to look after himself.

Who are you? Gervase asked him silently. What were you doing out there by the river? Did you abduct the missing girl? If so, who fought you, killed you and took her from you? Where were you taking her? Where has he gone with her?

So many questions. So many uncertainties. Suppressing the urge to punch something, Gervase left the recess and strode out of the infirmary.

He decided to ride down to Tonbridge to see if his deputy had anything to report. The day was drawing on towards evening, and the light was fading fast. He wanted to speak to his deputy before it became too dark to search and everyone went home for the night. Another day had passed, he reflected anxiously, and Rosamund was still missing. And, always lurking behind all his pressing preoccupations, there was that other matter; he must not leave it too long before making the journey out to the House in the Woods to inspect Josse’s valuables…

He was entering the abbey’s stable block when he heard the sound of hooves. Turning, he saw Leofgar Warin riding towards him.

‘What news?’ Gervase demanded.

Leofgar held up a hand. ‘None. I am sorry, that is not why I have sought you.’

Gervase felt himself sag. Just for a moment, he had hoped… He looked up at Leofgar and said, more sharply than he had intended, ‘Why are you here, then?’

Leofgar’s expression suggested that he understood Gervase’s mood. ‘I have to go home,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, I wish with all my heart that I could get out there again now, sleep here tonight and return to the search in the morning. She’s my niece, and I cannot imagine what my brother and Paradisa are going through. But I cannot stay. I have pressing concerns of my own.’

‘What’s more important than a missing child?’ The question burst out of Gervase before he could stop it. ‘I apologize,’ he said instantly. ‘I have no right to question your movements.’

‘No, you haven’t,’ Leofgar agreed, with the ghost of a smile. ‘But I’ll explain anyway.’ He slid off his horse and, coming to stand close beside Gervase, said quietly, ‘My wife and I are expecting an important guest. The king is on his way back to his palace at Westminster, and he is to honour us with a visit as he progresses north.’

Gervase was stunned. ‘You — King John is to stay with you? At the Old Manor?’

Leofgar’s smile held genuine amusement now. ‘Don’t sound so surprised,’ he said mildly. ‘We do have a bed or two to offer, and my household can rise to a grand occasion and turn out quite acceptable fare.’

‘I did not mean to imply otherwise,’ Gervase said stiffly.

‘No, I know you didn’t,’ Leofgar replied. ‘Between you and me,’ he added, lowering his voice still further, ‘I wish he was returning to London via a different road. I’m not looking forward in the least to entertaining a demanding king and however many hangers-on he happens to have with him. As my wife so perceptively remarked, it’s nothing to be proud of as he’s only staying with us because our house happens to be conveniently situated.’

‘I am sure it is more than that,’ Gervase said politely.

Leofgar looked at him, his mouth twisted in an ironic grin. ‘You are?’

‘I — er, I-’

Leofgar waved a hand. ‘It is of no matter.’ He gathered up his horse’s reins and put a foot in his stirrup, preparing to mount.

‘Wait!’ Gervase exclaimed, remembering. ‘Can you spare me a moment longer before you leave?’

Leofgar glanced up at the twilight sky and nodded. ‘Yes, if you’re quick. What is it?’

‘We have an unidentified body in the infirmary.’

Leofgar tethered his horse and, as the two men hurried over to the infirmary, Gervase explained how and where the dead man had been found. ‘So nobody knows who he is?’ Leofgar asked.