Alys Clare - The Rose of the World

Perhaps it was Joanna who wanted her to keep vigil at the chapel. Meggie had been wrong in thinking that the great lords — one of whom, as she now knew, was the king — had been there because they were hunting for the Black Madonna. The king was after something far more earthly than a mysterious black goddess.

Still, Meggie could not relax. Repeatedly, she found herself returning to the chapel, simply, as she told herself, to make sure all was well. Late in the afternoon, just before sunset, she decided to pay a last visit. She was some way down the path when, with a soft exclamation, she turned and retraced her steps. Going back inside the hut, she took a small, hard object wrapped up in a leather bag out of a specially-crafted wooden box that was screwed to the underside of the sleeping platform. Obeying some indefinable impulse, she had brought it with her from its habitual hiding place at the House in the Woods. Holding it lightly in her right hand, once again she walked briskly out of the clearing.

As she emerged from beneath the trees, she saw a group of armed men lounging around outside the chapel. One of them said something to the others, making a vulgar gesture with his hand and jerking his head in the direction of the chapel. Meggie leapt back under cover. She knew, then, who was inside.

She feared him, for she knew what he wanted of her. Yet when he had spoken to her, against all logic she had found herself liking him. She had had no dealings with men such as him; Josse had once lived in those elevated circles, but now, on his own admission, he was an ordinary family man doing his best for those he loved. She did not really understand the power of sophisticated, intelligent, determined charm…

Her own feelings must in any case be put aside, for he was in the chapel, only a few feet above the place where it held its secret. She waited until the men were not looking — that was easy, for now another of them was telling a joke or a lewd story, and all their attention was on him — and, slipping out from the shadows, she ran round to the chapel door, opened it and went inside.

He turned to look at her. ‘Meggie,’ he said softly. ‘I knew you would come.’

She made herself walk closer to him. Standing right before him, she made a low curtsey. ‘We are honoured by your presence here, my lord,’ she said.

He reached out for her hand and raised her up, putting his fingers under her chin so that she lifted her head and looked at him. They were roughly of a height; if anything, she was a little taller.

It was difficult to take in anything other than the bright eyes. He was in his forties now, the strong body getting fat around the middle, but she found that those factors weighed little against the compelling power of his gaze. He is dangerous, she told herself. Do not forget it.

‘I shall leave the abbey in the morning,’ he said softly, ‘but I could not go without saying goodbye to you.’

‘You flatter me, lord,’ she replied.

‘I have wanted you since I saw you outside with your little friend,’ he went on. ‘That mad fool Olivier must have seen me watching you both and mistaken the object of my attention.’ Anger briefly contorted his face: there and gone in an instant. He moved closer to her, and she felt the heat of his body. ‘What I want,’ he murmured, ‘I usually get.’ He ran his fingers down her hair. ‘Such beautiful curls,’ he murmured. ‘You smell clean, Meggie. I like clean people.’

‘I smell of herbs,’ she said. ‘I work with them.’

He nodded. ‘Very laudable.’ His eyes seemed to bore into her. ‘You have light in your face, and your eyes flash like sun on the water,’ he murmured. Then he took her face gently in his hands and kissed her.

For a moment the temptation was strong to kiss him back. This man held Ninian’s life in his hands. If Meggie were to give him, willingly and generously, what he so clearly and so badly wanted, perhaps he would grant her the one thing she really wanted and spare her half brother’s life. Besides, man of broad experience that he was, the prospect of making love with him was not unappealing.

A voice like cold water spoke in Meggie’s head. It was a voice which, other than in dreams and visions, she had not heard for more than a decade. Her mother said, firmly and clearly: have no truck with kings, for they take what they want and do not give anything in return.

Meggie pulled away. The moment of weakness was gone. She knew her mother was right. He would not give up the pursuit of Ninian, even if she slept with him until he grew tired of her. More than that — worse than that — if she allowed him close to her, she might inadvertently give away some small fact that would lead him to the very person she was so desperate to protect.

He moved his hands so that he gripped her shoulders. ‘You would give me the sport of forcing you, would you?’ A cruel smile crossed his face. ‘Oh, Meggie, and there I was believing you were about to yield to me right here in the sanctity of my late and much-mourned mother’s chapel!’ He gave her a shake. ‘I will have you,’ he said, his voice as soft and dangerous as a snake’s hiss.

He released her briefly, dragging at the neck of her gown and at the lacings of his own tunic. She knew she had to act then or be lost. Grasping the leather bag, which hung from her belt, she loosed the drawstrings and took out the object within.

Then she held up the Eye of Jerusalem and, just as she had so desperately hoped, the light of the lamp burning on the altar shone on it, brought its incredible heart to life and flashed blue fire all around the chapel.

The jewel was her inheritance, coming to her from her father and her grandfather, accompanied by the prediction that she would be the first person in its incredibly long history to discover its full potential. She had worked with it as much as she dared, tentatively exploring its incredible power, nerving herself to push her experiments steadily further, even though she had frequently terrified herself and regularly caused herself at worst injury, at best a crushing headache that took days to dissipate. But magic was like that; she never complained.

One thing that she had discovered was that the great sapphire had the ability to send her into a trance. She had sat with it in the hut one night, idly swinging it to and fro so that the light of the fire burning in the heath caused it to flash intermittently. Transfixed by the sight, she had felt her eyes go unfocused and her mind empty itself of whatever she had been thinking about. She had only emerged from the Eye’s spell when she had fallen over sideways on to the floor.

Few people knew about the jewel. Her father did; so did Helewise. So did one or two others. Josse and Helewise had reluctantly agreed to allow her to try out her discovery on them, and both had succumbed to the stone’s trance-inducing power even more swiftly than she had done.

Now, when so much depended on it, she prayed to her guiding spirits that it would not let her down.

She swung it gently on its gold chain. He tried to grab it, but she flicked it up out of his reach. She went on swinging it, and the blue light flashed out so brightly that it was almost blinding. She remembered to look away; this was no time to entrance herself.

There was a change in him. His hands dropped to his sides, and the brilliant eyes followed the stone in its arc — left, right, left, right — their intense blue seemingly lit from within by the light radiating through the great sapphire.

She said, very softly, ‘You do not want me. This place is hallowed, and to make love to a woman in it would violate its sanctity. There is a power here that you cannot comprehend, and it does not do to offend it.’

She went on swinging the Eye. He was deeply under its spell now, his face blank, his eyelids heavy. She knew she must stop soon. If he went right under, he would fall on to the hard stone floor and possibly injure himself. The noise of his falling might bring the guards running, and she would instantly be arrested and taken away in chains for assaulting him.