Alys Clare - The Joys of My Life

What? he wondered. What could he have done to make de Fleury fall?

Slowly he bent down and put his hands either side of the beam. Straining, he tried to move it. To his surprise, it moved quite easily. It did not move far, but then it would not have had to. Even a hand’s breadth would have been enough. He sat back on his heels and extinguished his torch; he could manage the climb down without it once his eyes had adjusted and it was better not to be seen.

I will not swear that’s how it was done, he thought. Only that it’s how it could have been done.

Then, doing his best to rid his mind of the vision of a man falling through the air, carefully he went back down the scaffolding to the safety of the solid ground far below.

He did not know it, but someone other than the oblivious night watchman had been observing him ever since he had entered the cathedral. The people in the secret encampment knew about the man who had fallen to his death in the centre of the labyrinth and they knew they must counteract the evil that had sullied this most precious spot. They had ordered the powerful figures among their number to stand vigil in the cathedral by night, calling down the powers of good and beseeching them to push back the threatening darkness. This first night, the sunset watch had fallen to one of the men. The second watch was Joanna’s.

She had had no idea that Josse was here in Chartres; all she had been told was that he had gone to France. So great had been her surprise when she had identified the tall, broad-shouldered figure in the nave that she had all but cried out. She had restrained herself — whatever her private feelings, she was here to do a job and abandoning her post to run out to Josse was no part of it — and settled back to watch what he would do. She guessed his purpose as soon as she saw him crouch down by the dark stain at the heart of the labyrinth and, as she watched him clamber up the scaffolding to the beam across the vault of the roof, she knew her guess was right. With her eyes fixed on his distant figure, she prayed to the Great Mother to make sure he did not fall. So fierce was her concentration that she thought she saw a faint shimmering figure made of light put out its arms to him.

She waited until he came down and willed him to leave the cathedral via the opening by which she was standing. As he came level, she drew her light cloak carefully around her and said softly, ‘Josse.’ As his shocked eyes met hers and he opened his mouth to cry out, she added urgently, ‘Hush!’

He grabbed her arm, pushed her back against the wall and hissed, ‘What are you doing here?’ Then, as understanding dawned, he said, ‘This is the place you told me about, isn’t it? The place where your people have to come to protect something that’s under threat?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘That’s what I’m doing now. The death here has brought a shadow and, in addition to our original purpose, we have to try to disperse it.’

He stared intently into her eyes. ‘It was murder, or so I believe.’

She hesitated, but as he seemed to know already there was surely no harm in telling him. ‘Some of my people were here last night,’ she said. ‘I can’t explain but it’s to do with the labyrinth.’ She pointed to the markers in the nave. ‘They saw two men climb up to the roof and one went out to sit astride the beam. He was looking down as if he were trying to find the centre of the maze, and the other man was giving him instructions. The man on the beam said, “I’m over the centre now,” and then the other man kicked the beam sideways with his foot. The man on the beam slipped off but managed to wrap his arms tightly round it, but then the other man kicked out hard again and again and in the end he let go.’

‘So it was murder,’ Josse breathed.

‘Yes.’

After a moment, he said, ‘Are you to stay here all night?’

Smiling in the darkness, she said, ‘No. I will be relieved shortly.’

She made out his expression as the moonlight glittered in his eyes. ‘Shall I wait for you?’ he said tentatively.

She did not know how to answer. Three nights ago, she had shared the Bear Man’s warm, snug bed. Here now was an older love but one who had as great if not a greater place in her heart. I cannot compare the two, she realized, for they are so different that I do not think of them in the same way at all. Would it matter? If my people — he — were to find out, would they be angry with me?

She thought, as she had thought before, that if there were any necessity to love no other than the strange being who was one of her own, then she would have been told of it. In the absence of any such command, it seemed to her that she was free to do as she wished. She wanted to spend some time with Josse, although for many reasons it could not be long. Even so they could walk out into the concealing darkness together and she could bask in his love. She wanted that; she needed it, for she was in turmoil.

He was looking down at her, in his beloved face anticipation as strong as her own mixed with a very touching tentativeness. She put her arms round his neck to draw him down towards her and whispered, ‘Yes.’

In the morning, waking in his hard bed in the convent’s guest quarters, he was not entirely sure whether she had really been there or if he had dreamed it. He pictured her standing before him, holding the folds of her cloak around her. He had made out the bulk of her leather satchel beneath it but otherwise the darkness had hidden her from him. He had seen only her dark, mysterious eyes, which glittered in the faint light, and her sweet face, illuminated by love. Aye, he thought, it could all have been a dream.

He got up, washed and dressed, then quietly went out. He walked all around the cathedral site but try as he might he could not remember in which direction she had set off when, far too soon, she left him. A long moment together, her head resting on his shoulder, and some precious, murmured words; not even the chance to loosen their garments and press flesh to flesh before she had said she must go. He walked some distance away from the city, following paths and faint tracks, searching in likely looking areas of woodland, but there was nothing. If he had really seen Joanna and if she and her people were encamped somewhere in the vicinity, they were far too good at concealing themselves for him to find them.

He was back in the square in front of the cathedral when he spotted the master mason who had identified Paul de Fleury coming towards him. ‘Good morning,’ Josse said. ‘You’re looking for me?’

‘Yes,’ the mason said. ‘I want to have a word with you before those priests try to stop me.’ He looked around as he spoke, but the square was deserted.

‘Why should they do that?’ Josse asked.

‘Because they reckon the death of Paul de Fleury is for them and them alone to deal with,’ the mason replied.

‘You don’t agree? It happened on church property, after all, so maybe they are right.’

‘They may be right but they don’t know what they’re at.’ The mason looked grim. ‘They keep speaking of an accident but all I can say is that they don’t know the nature of the man who Paul was working for.’

He had implied the same thing the previous morning, Josse recalled. ‘And you do?’

‘We all do. Philippe de Loup approached several of my team and none of the others would work for him. He’s bad, sir knight, I’ll tell you that.’

‘I see.’ Josse was thinking hard. ‘Your men do not trust him?’

‘No. I tried to tell Paul, but he didn’t listen.’

Josse was framing his next question. ‘In what way is de Loup bad?’

‘There’s too many rumours about him for them all to be false. Besides, he’s been involved in more than one suspicious disappearance, although he’s always managed to talk — or more likely buy — his way out of trouble.’