Alys Clare - The Joys of My Life

For Joanna, there was another difficult aspect besides the tough teaching programme and the perils of travelling to and fro across the water. Joanna had not been permitted to take Meggie with her to Chartres and the child had been left with her father. Not that Joanna objected to that, for Josse was a dedicated, responsible and very loving parent, and Joanna trusted him totally. No, what she found so hard to bear was that Meggie, too young to dissemble, had made it perfectly clear that she loved being with her father as much (‘More?’ whispered the voice of doubt in Joanna’s mind) as being with her mother. Each time that Joanna had returned to her little hut in the Great Forest and Josse had brought Meggie back to her, the child had seemed a little more Josse’s and a little less Joanna’s.

It hurt.

Joanna had been told about the fire that had destroyed the old cathedral on the night of 10 June five years ago. Lightning had struck the roof, they said, and the fire that had immediately blazed up had been ferocious, consuming everything except the south tower, the west front and the crypt. The crypt, Joanna had mused privately. The crypt, which is how they now refer to the sanctuary and the well; strange, how that should be quite undamaged. Nobody even hinted that the fire had been started by the people in their despair, but Joanna knew that some of the elders could summon the vast, dark clouds and bring down lightning out of them; she had seen it done. If the fire had been the work of her people, then the act had been misjudged, for the Christians had been greatly impressed at the miraculous survival of their holy relic and were moved to start pouring money, skill and labour into rebuilding the cathedral in what looked as if it would be record time.

Joanna’s people were reconciled now to the fact that nothing they could do would stop the rebuilding. Their purpose had accordingly changed; now their sole aim was to ensure that something of their beliefs, their ancient faith and their precious deity of the female principle should be incorporated into the stones and the very fabric of the rich merchants’ great new cathedral rising up on the hill.

Now, in the early summer of 1199, the workmen were about to begin laying the labyrinth that would stretch across the nave of the cathedral. It seemed strange to the people that the priests should have chosen to use this ancient symbol, since it was not of their own new religion but had come down out of the secretive, dark past. The people understood its power and its potential, although the elders doubted that the priests did. That was to their advantage, though; the labyrinth being one of their own symbols, it would be relatively easy to put their power into it. It was as if the priests had unwittingly given them a little door through which to pass, and the people fully intended to use it.

Joanna had no idea yet what role she would play in the ceremony. Whatever it was, she vowed she would ignore her fatigue and a persistent, nagging backache and throw her whole self into it. Since she had arrived in the secret encampment at the beginning of May she had done everything demanded of her, from taking her turn at the domestic chores, such as food preparation and clearing-up, to sitting in the meditative state for hours on end as she strove to join her consciousness and her power with that of her companions. Uniquely for Joanna among the specially selected of her people, there were extra complications. She had Meggie with her, and the demands of a six-year-old child did not always blend harmoniously with the sacred duty of a power figure of the people.

When Joanna received notification in the middle of April that she was to return to Chartres, she did what she had done twice before and sent word to Josse, asking him to come to the forest to collect Meggie and care for her while she was away. On the previous two occasions, Josse had arrived swiftly, willing and eager to accept his charge. This time, Joanna had sent her message via Thomas the tinker; two days later, it had not been Josse but Thomas who had turned up at the meeting place on the edge of the forest. Sir Josse was not at home, he told Joanna; what was more, the young couple who now lived with him at New Winnowlands said he had gone to France and they did not know when he would be back.

Joanna had managed to hide her reaction while Thomas was with her but, as soon as he and his squeaky handcart had trundled off down the track, she had collapsed on the fresh green grass and wondered what on earth she was going to do. Initially she had been furious with Josse — How dare he go off like that without telling me! I need him and he’s not here! — but she had come to her senses and realized that since she frequently went away without informing Josse, it was not unreasonable for him to do the same. Besides, he’d have come to tell me if he’d had time, she thought, I know he would.

She realized that she had not seen him since the previous autumn equinox, when he had joined in with her people’s great ceremony and afterwards stayed for several days with her and Meggie in the forest hut. The fact that she had not found the time for him since then made her feel guilty.

However, the fact remained that he had gone to France for some unknown purpose — perhaps to do with the old king’s death or the new king’s succession? — and he was not there to take care of Meggie. Over the next couple of days, Joanna thought up various alternatives. Ask the nuns at Hawkenlye to look after Meggie? Ask some of the many forest people who would not be making the journey to Chartres? Ask the pair at New Winnowlands — unlike Thomas the tinker, Joanna knew them to be the Abbess Helewise’s son and his wife — if they will care for her? But there seemed to be a good reason why she could not adopt any of these ideas. In the end, she dismissed all the possibilities and went for the obvious solution: she would take Meggie with her. Here they were, then, she and her lively, laughing daughter, in their own neat and tidy quarters within the hidden encampment.

Tonight, Joanna would have to ask one of the other women to watch over Meggie, for she had been commanded to attend a meeting of the elders. They were going to explain to her about the labyrinth and how they intended to use it. Joanna was excited, resolved to do her very best and, she had to admit, decidedly nervous. The afternoon and evening crawled by and her agitation increased; she seemed to feel watchful eyes on her and sometimes they had an intensity that made her skin crawl.

At last night came. The sounds of the day gradually faded, and in the distance the lights of the town went out. In the encampment, those not attending the meeting settled in their beds. The woman who was looking after Meggie brought her bedroll and made herself comfortable in Joanna’s usual place. Meggie, already fast asleep, did not stir.

The woman must have noticed Joanna staring down at her daughter. ‘Don’t worry,’ she whispered, briefly touching Joanna’s hand. ‘No harm will come to her. Not here.’

Joanna nodded, forced a smile and then slipped out of the shelter and into the darkness. Someone was waiting for her; a cloaked figure moved out of the deeper shadows and said softly, ‘You are Beith?’

It was the name that her people had bestowed on her. ‘Yes.’

‘I am called Ruis. Come with me.’

She fell into step beside him and they set off at a swift pace out of the encampment. To Joanna’s surprise, they did not go away from the city, as she had expected, but towards it. It seemed illogical to hold a secret meeting within the town but, as Ruis led her up a track that widened into a street and emerged between houses on Chartres’s central square, she realized that this was what they were doing.

With a quick look to right and left, Ruis took her hand and they ran quickly from the shadow of the houses across to the walls of the new cathedral, already soaring high above their heads. This meeting of the elders of her people to which she had been summoned was to be held within the cathedral.