Child of the Phoenix (54 page)

Luned looked at her doubtfully. ‘Are you sure? She seems so happy to me.’

‘I’m sure.’ Rhonwen straightened wearily. ‘So, tell me where this abbey is. I will wait there for a message from you. I hope it’s not too far, I’m aching all over after riding three times around England looking for you!’

‘It isn’t far. You’ll get there before dark, and they will treat you with great hospitality as long as –’ She hesitated. ‘Don’t offend them, Rhonwen. Don’t let them see you don’t believe as they do. Word will get round so fast.’

‘Do you take me for a fool!’ Rhonwen snapped. ‘Of course I won’t offend them. They won’t get me to their masses and their prayers, but I shall be polite and pay my dues. What more can they possibly expect?’

VII
DARNHALL MANOR HOUSE

‘Robin!’ Eleyne recognised the tall visitor in spite of the all-enveloping cloak in which he was muffled. ‘So, you have come to see us after all.’

‘My lady.’ Robert Fitzooth stooped to kiss her. ‘How could I not come to welcome you back to Chester? How are you? And how is my cousin?’

Eleyne took his hand and led him to the chairs on the dais. ‘He is well. He is with our steward at the moment, but he will join us soon. I will send a messenger telling him you’ve come. He’ll be pleased to see you. Luned, ask the servants to bring us some wine.’

Luned beckoned a page forward. It was nearly midday and still she hadn’t found a moment alone with Eleyne to tell her about Rhonwen, and, she realised as she supervised the jug of wine and the goblets on the tray carried by a nervous new maid from the village, she was reluctant to do so. She loved Rhonwen as Eleyne did; they had been brought up by her together after all, but Rhonwen had changed. She had grown bitter and possessive, and her presence had became a threat.

‘Luned? Luned, the wine!’ Eleyne’s voice jolted her out of her thoughts. Eleyne left her guest and crossed to the table where Luned was standing. ‘What is it? Is anything the matter?’ She smiled fondly at her, troubled by the girl’s unhappy expression.

Luned glanced across at Sir Robert, who was talking to one of his companions. ‘I have been trying to speak to you, my lady,’ she whispered urgently, ‘but there is always someone there.’

‘What do you mean? You only had to say …’

‘It had to be alone, in private.’ Luned’s voice was anguished.

Eleyne looked at her hard, then she turned. ‘Robin, will you forgive me? A crisis is at hand. Drink some wine and warm yourself by the fire and I shall return at once.’

Gathering her skirts, she swept out of the hall in front of Luned and into the bright sunshine. ‘Here, in the arbour. We won’t be overheard. What is it?’

‘Rhonwen is here.’

Eleyne stared at her. ‘Rhonwen! She’s alive? Where? Where is she?’

‘I sent her to Vale Royale. It wasn’t safe for her to stay nearer. I didn’t think you’d want her here.’

Eleyne closed her eyes, stunned by the news. ‘You’re right. Dear God, I never thought to see her alive again! Is she all right? Is she well? What happened to her? Where has she been?’

Luned laughed. ‘I’m sure she’ll tell you herself.’

‘I must go to her.’ Surprised at the reluctance which vied with her relief that Rhonwen was alive, Eleyne went on, ‘Go now, and order them to saddle my new mare. We’ll say I couldn’t wait to try her out. Come with me and bring two men as escort. I’ll explain to Robin.’

In a whirl of skirts, she ran back to the house. Shaking her head, Luned turned towards the stables.

VIII
VALE ROYALE ABBEY

The abbot was waiting for her in his lodging, a stone building set apart from the other monastic buildings. It was cold in the room, but Eleyne found herself waved towards one of two comfortable chairs standing on either side of a spacious but empty hearth. ‘May I give you some wine?’ The abbot was preparing to serve it himself.

She nodded, gratefully. ‘My lord abbot, I came to seek a friend who I hoped had lodged in your guesthouse last night.’

He frowned. ‘I thought perhaps that was it.’ He handed her a brimming goblet with a bow. ‘I am afraid I had to ask your friend to leave.’

Eleyne froze. The abbot, a small, thin man with a kind, careworn face, his fringe of hair silver above watery grey eyes, seated himself opposite her. He had taken no wine himself.

‘I am sorry, my lady, if this causes you grief, but the woman who came here last night was an outlaw, wanted by the king’s men. She is a heretic and a murderess. I could not allow her to spend a night beneath my roof. I should have told my guest master to arrest her, but –’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘Perhaps I did wrong, but I felt compelled merely to send her on her way. She had sought Christian hospitality, and was given food and water to wash in. I could not send her to the gallows after that.’

Eleyne licked her lips, which had gone dry. ‘What made you think she was an outlaw, my lord abbot?’

The abbot sighed. ‘I was at Chester when word went round of what she did. I am sorry, Lady Chester, but everyone knew your lady, Rhonwen. She was too vivid, too striking for men not to remember her. When my guest master came to me and said he was worried because a guest under our roof had said she would not hear mass, I came to speak to her, thinking I could offer her some advice or reassurance. Then I recognised her and sent her on her way. I kept her servants here, and gave them absolution this morning, then I dismissed them with a small payment which will enable them to move on until they find new employment.’

‘And Rhonwen. Where did she go?’ Eleyne asked at last. The wine was untouched in the goblet in her hand.

‘She went into the forest. What else could she do?’

‘And you think that a Christian action? To send an unprotected, gently born woman into the forest to live amongst outlaws and thieves and murderers?’ Eleyne stood up. A little of the wine slopped on to her skirt but she didn’t notice. ‘My lord abbot, I think you have done her a great wrong.’

‘You think she was innocent?’ The abbot had risen as well.

‘She killed a man, but it was in self-defence. She had no option.’

The abbot raised an eyebrow. ‘Forgive me, my lady, but that is not the way I heard the story. However, it is not for me to judge. I sent her on her way and she has gone with her horse and her life. No doubt the earl can find her; he has but to put the word around and offer a reward and every cutpurse in the country will search for her.’ He paused, his face full of compassion. ‘I understand she was your nurse, my lady, and I realise you must have loved her, but don’t be misled by her. That lady is a danger to everyone around her. She is evil. I recognised it in every part of my body and soul.’

Eleyne put the goblet down untouched and turned towards the door. ‘As you said, my lord abbot, she was my nurse and she loves me, she said. ‘And I love her.’

IX

John was sitting playing chess with Robin when Eleyne walked at last into the great hall. Both men rose.

‘Where have you been?’ John asked. ‘It’s late. You missed both dinner and supper.’

She pulled off her gloves and threw them down next to the chessboard. ‘I am well aware of that,’ she said sharply. She was hungry and tired and disappointed. ‘I rode to the abbey. The abbot delayed me there and then on the way back through the forest we took the wrong track.’

‘Then what you need is some wine and some delicious titbits to tempt your appetite, my lady.’ Robin pulled forward his own heavy chair. ‘Here, sit by the fire. Don’t bully her, John. Your lady is not to be upset!’ He grinned at his cousin impudently. ‘She can tell us about her adventures when she is rested and not before.’ He lifted Eleyne’s cloak from her shoulders and guided her to the chair.

Eleyne saw that John was watching her closely, but his worry was only for her safety, she was sure of that. He had not guessed about Rhonwen. How could he? Unless Rhonwen came to the house he would never know that she was nearby. But would she come to the house? Eleyne remembered Luned and looked for her, but there was no sign of her in the crowded hall; Luned, who had comforted her on the return ride with the words: ‘She knows where you are. She’ll find you … somehow.’

In spite of herself, Eleyne began to enjoy the evening. Robin had brought her wine, serving her on one knee with a clean napkin over his arm. Then he had brought her a silver platter, full of dainty pieces of food, somehow reheated, although, she was sure, the great oven fires must long ago have been damped and the kitchens swept clean.

Secure in her love, John no longer found himself racked with jealousy as his cousin flirted and laughed with Eleyne. He was glad that the pain which had shown around her eyes when she walked in had gone. Whatever had been worrying her had been forgotten. He relaxed and found himself laughing, responding to the young man’s charm and humour, wishing, not for the first time, that he had a son like Robin. Eleyne laughed and opened her mouth as Robin poked a piece of pastry at her. John sighed and pushed the thought away, beckoning the musicians who had been waiting hopefully at the foot of the dais.

The noise lessened as men and women found themselves seats on the forms ranged around the edge of the hall, or on their spread cloaks on the rush-strewn floor. The dogs settled before the fire and with an expectant hush the eyes of everyone present turned to the musicians as they began to tune up. The leader of the troop bowed to Eleyne.

‘My Lady Chester. What would you like us to play? A love song perhaps?’ He raised his eyebrow suggestively.

‘Yes.’ Eleyne smiled. ‘A love song, please.’ She held out her hand to John. He came and stood behind her, taking her fingers and pressing them to his lips. Robin watched them for a moment, then with a little shrug he stood back and, offering John his chair, he went and squatted on his haunches by the fire.

They sat a long time that evening, contentedly listening to the music. Eleyne was too tired to move from her chair. She leaned sideways until her head was on John’s shoulder, feeling his warmth through his mantle. Robin sat by the fire, his arms wrapped around his legs, his chin sunk thoughtfully on his knees, his eyes shut. The great hall was silent save for the occasional snore, quickly hushed, from a man-at-arms asleep in the corner. The night was cold and clear; the stars seemed very far away.

X

Near the door a kitchen maid was lying beside one of the pantry-men. He had spread his cloak over them both and his hands were busy under her skirt. She lay still, trying not to giggle, feeling the excitement mounting, knowing that soon they would creep away into the stables. Opening her eyes sleepily, she saw that the door was close by. No one would notice if they crept outside. She turned to the man at her side and firmly removed his hand from between her legs. He scowled, then understood. He stood up and, picking up the cloak, took her hand. They tiptoed along the edge of the hall, stepping over other somnolent bodies, and made their way towards the door.

The courtyard was very cold. Their breath showed in clouds of white as, unable to wait, he pulled her to him and thrust his hands inside her gown, fumbling at her breasts.

‘Not here. The countess would send me off if she found out. In the stables – it’s warmer,’ she breathed. Capturing his hand, she began to lead him across the courtyard, but almost at once she stopped.

‘What is it?’ It was his turn to pull her.

‘I don’t know, look.’ She found she was holding her breath.

‘Where?’ There had been fear in her voice, and he found he was no longer feeling quite so lusty.

The white figure was standing in the shadows near the angle of the wall and the western range of buildings. It was indistinct, a wraith in the mist which seemed to surround it. It began to move, gliding towards the door of the great hall.

‘Blessed Virgin!’ the man gasped. He stood paralysed, unable to turn or run. Beside him the girl seemed to have stopped breathing.

They watched the figure as it moved away from them towards the corner of the hall. There it stopped, seemingly unable to decide whether or not to go in, then it turned and glided away again. Seconds later it had disappeared into the darkness.

XI
DARNHALL
St Columba’s Day

Luned pulled the pins one by one from Eleyne’s hair and reached for the comb. ‘Is he no better, my lady?’ she asked sympathetically as Eleyne closed her eyes wearily.