Alys Clare - The Rose of the World

Gervase nodded. ‘Excellent.’ He hesitated, eyeing Josse and then quickly looking away. ‘I — er, have a suggestion,’ he said tentatively, ‘if you would hear it?’

‘I would,’ Josse answered.

In that moment of desperate urgency, it struck Josse that Gervase was strangely reluctant to speak. He was about to press him — this was no time to be so sensitive and tactful! — when Gervase seemed to jerk himself out of his reverie.

To Josse’s surprise, for there was nobody near, Gervase leaned close and, speaking right in his ear, whispered to him. He spoke for some moments, and Josse’s eyes widened as he listened.

‘I had forgotten,’ Josse said when Gervase had finished. ‘You did tell me, years ago, but it had slipped my mind.’ Then, his eyes on Gervase, he said anxiously, ‘I pray it will not come to that!’

Gervase shrugged. ‘The king’s reach is long,’ he murmured. ‘Tell Ninian he must-’ He stopped. ‘Tell him to bear it in mind.’

‘Aye, that I will, and thank you.’

Gervase looked hurriedly away. Then, glancing up at the sun, he muttered, ‘I must go.’

He had turned aside, but Josse caught his arm and held him back. He fumbled for Gervase’s hand and they clasped, palm to wrist. Then Gervase hurried off back towards the house, and very soon Josse saw him emerge from the stable yard. Putting spurs to his horse, Gervase raced away.

In the end, only Little Helewise and Meggie went with Josse to say farewell. Geoffroi begged to be allowed to go, but Josse, knowing how painful it was going to be, gently forbad it. ‘Stay here with me,’ Helewise said softly to the boy. ‘I need someone to cheer me up, and there’s nobody like you for doing that.’

Catching Josse’s eye, she said, ‘Give Ninian my love. Tell him I shall keep him in my prayers and my heart until we meet again.’

They went on foot, leading Garnet. The various bundles that Josse had prepared were all now securely fastened, and Tilly had added a linen square in which she had tied some of her freshly-baked honey cakes. If love could protect Ninian, Josse reflected as they walked in silence beneath the trees, then he would leave his homeland in the best armour in the world.

Ninian was waiting for them in the little valley. The hiding place was once more concealed behind the thorn bush; Josse wondered absently how long it would be before it was used again. If it ever was…

He could barely cope with his sorrow. Taking refuge in being brisk and efficient, he showed Ninian what had been prepared for him and, waving aside the young man’s thanks, said, ‘Now, once you’re safely across the narrow seas, remember that you have kin there and go-’

He had not expected Ninian’s reaction. His face mottled with fury, he said, ‘They are not my kin! My mother hated that terrible old man they made her marry, and I would not seek them out even if they were all that stood between me and the gallows!’

There was a gasp of horror, from Meggie or Little Helewise; Josse did not know. He realized his mistake. ‘Ninian,’ he said quietly, ‘I do not refer to the family of Thorald de Lehon. I would never make such a suggestion to you, knowing even better than you how your mother loathed the lot of them.’

Only slightly mollified, Ninian said, ‘Who, then?’

‘I meant the d’Acquins,’ Josse said. ‘My brothers Yves, Patrice, Honore and Acelin, and their families. They are all at Acquin, and it is not very far from the coast. They will take you in and care for you.’ He paused, collecting his thoughts. It was a long time since he had seen his family — he did not even know if all his brothers were still alive — and now, in that moment full of painful emotions, he felt another one: regret that he had not made the time to visit them. With an effort, he brushed the thought aside. Yves and the others would help Ninian; that was all that mattered now.

He realized Ninian was watching him closely. ‘What is it?’

Ninian smiled. ‘They are not really my kin, Josse,’ he said gently. ‘I’m only your adopted son, remember?’

Josse waved a hand, momentarily unable to speak. He had quite forgotten. He drew Ninian to him, taking him in his arms. Very quietly, he said, ‘There is somewhere else, too.’ And he told Ninian what Gervase had said.

He hugged the young man once more, then let him go. He strode away to the edge of the valley and turned his back. He heard Meggie’s soft voice, speaking some urgent reminder to her half brother. Then she came to stand beside him.

For rather longer, he listened to the quiet sobbing of Little Helewise and the gentle tones of Ninian as he tried to comfort her.

Finally, she, too, came to join them.

They all turned and saw Ninian, already mounted on Garnet, one hand raised in farewell. He put his heels to Garnet’s sides, and the horse went up the slope out of the valley. For a few moments they heard the thud of his hooves as Ninian kicked him first to a canter and then, as the trees thinned, to a gallop. Then the sounds faded and they heard no more.

Speed him on his way and let him find a safe haven, Josse prayed. He thought he was praying to God, but suddenly an image of Joanna flashed before his eyes. He’s your boy, he reminded her, as if she needed reminding. You make sure he’s all right.

There was no answer.

On either side of him, Meggie and Little Helewise each took one of his hands. Together, not speaking, they went home.

Helewise had been praying. She wished she could go through the forest to St Edmund’s Chapel, for it was a place very dear to her heart and she felt that God’s presence was very close there. Something to do with its simplicity, she often thought, and also with its air of slight detachment, situated as it was above and apart from the hectic bustle of the abbey. It ought to have been locked up, of course. That was what the interdict meant to the ordinary people. They had few comforts in their hard lives, and now, just because two great men of power had squabbled like a couple of small boys each determined to have their own way, even the solace of the church’s services had been taken away.

Somehow, the chapel seemed to have been overlooked. And, besides, there was no lock on its door.

She could not go there now. She had seen Josse’s face as he left to say goodbye to Ninian. He would have to support Meggie and Little Helewise all the way home, and he would need some support himself by the time he got back. So she went out into the woods, following one of her favourite tracks deep beneath the trees to a private place she had discovered. An ancient oak had fallen a year or so back, and the sudden absence of its huge crown had allowed the sun into a place of darkness. The glade always appeared full of light, even on a dim day, because of the contrast to the surrounding shadowy gloom.

She knelt on the mossy ground and prayed, for Ninian and for those left behind who would miss him so much. She stayed there on her knees for some time and, when eventually she got up and returned to the house, she felt as if she had a strong, silent ally to help her face the difficult times ahead.

As she walked back along the path, something occurred to her. She stopped in surprise — why on earth hadn’t they thought of it before? — and then carefully studied the idea. Was it right? Was it practicable? She thought it was.

Hurrying, eager now to speak to Josse, she picked up her pace and strode home.

They were back. She could hear someone sobbing: it was her granddaughter. Of all of them, this was perhaps hardest for Little Helewise, she reflected, for the child was young still, deeply in love and, until this dreadful business, had happily expected to marry the man she loved as soon as the church was permitted to perform the service. Now Ninian had gone, out of her loving arms for an indefinite time.