The Joys of My Life Read online

  ‘I can think of nobody more fitted to—’ Josse began.

  As if she hadn’t heard him, she spoke again, shocking him into silence: ‘There are foul rumours concerning a group of knights who, so they say, have been indulging in devil worship,’ she said bluntly. ‘They sacrifice young boys and perform unspeakable sexual misdeeds.’

  In a flash of understanding Josse recalled the moment of deep unease as he stood looking up at the castle. Something very bad had happened here. ‘Aye,’ he breathed. Then, eyes on hers, ‘Was it right here, within these walls?’ he asked urgently.

  She looked at him, surprise on her face. ‘No, but very close: on the island. How did you know?’ Then, anger darkening her eyes, she hissed, ‘Did somebody tell you?’

  ‘No, madam, I swear it.’ To his huge relief, she seemed to believe him. ‘Just a sensation. I felt there was evil here.’

  ‘You felt right,’ she muttered.

  ‘What has it to do with me?’ he asked. ‘Or with you, my lady? This is your island, I appreciate that, but—’

  Again she interrupted him. ‘I remember you, Josse d’Acquin,’ she said. ‘You came to our aid once before. Do you remember?’

  ‘Aye, my lady.’ Embarrassed, he lowered his head.

  ‘I was preparing the way in England for my son’s crowning and you helped to defend his good name. Well, now I call upon you to render to me the same service again.’

  ‘Your son . . . ? Madam, I do not understand.’ Josse stared at her. He read something in her expression, something that made his heart thump in alarm, and he thought that perhaps he did understand after all.

  ‘Yes, yes,’ she said slowly. Then, suppressed fury sharpening her voice, ‘Rumours, Josse, always rumours! So much has been said about my son King Richard, so much that is bad. Evil. So much that is untrue.’

  ‘They are saying that he knew of this group of knights?’ Josse asked tentatively.

  ‘They are saying that he was one of them,’ she replied brutally. ‘They say he joined them in their foul, unnatural rites, that he had carnal knowledge of young boys, that he came here, to this very island, not long before he died to lead one of their most frightful ceremonies –’ she drew a shaky breath – ‘that he was there to hear the terrible screams.’

  ‘My lady, I . . .’ But Josse was lost for words. He wanted to state firmly that he was quite sure there was no truth in the rumours, that the late king was innocent of the dreadful accusations, but he was not at all sure that he could speak the words and sound as if he were telling the truth.

  ‘I have a mission for you, Josse,’ the queen said quietly. ‘When you have completed it, report back to me. I continue my progress for some weeks, but by mid-July I shall be in Rouen. I wish you to investigate these rumours and find out if there is any truth in them. If there is not, you are to arrest all those responsible for blackening the name of the king and bring them to me for trial and punishment.’

  There was a long, aching silence.

  Finally Josse said, ‘And if there is?’

  The queen’s dark, unfathomable eyes stared straight into his. It was rather like being pinned to a wall. ‘If there is,’ she repeated, ‘bury it. Bury it so deeply that it can never emerge.’

  Two

  The Hawkenlye party were treated with every courteous consideration during their brief stay at the Château d’Oléron. To Helewise’s surprise, that evening Sister Caliste and the lay brothers were, like herself and Josse, invited to dine at the queen’s table. Observing Helewise’s amazement, Eleanor took her to one side and said, ‘My dear, this, as I believe you perceive, is my retreat. I do not have to follow the rules of the outside world here and it is my wish to have a merry gathering. Let your good Sister Caliste and the brethren enjoy some luxury while they may.’

  The queen had her wish. The simple diet of the Hawkenlye community did not include delicious and deceptively strong French wines and very quickly Brother Augustus and Sister Caliste emerged from their overawed shells and were laughing and joking as if they had known Eleanor all their young lives. Brother Saul, older and more conditioned to his lowly status, took longer to relax and it was only when the queen requested a song that he finally joined in the merriment. Helewise had never heard him sing solo before and the rich baritone that emerged from his thin, wiry frame was as much a revelation to her as it clearly was to Queen Eleanor.

  When he finished – he had performed a faintly ribald song about a maid and a boy falling in love and the absurd course of the lad’s courtship – the queen clapped her hands with delight, said she had heard nothing so good since she had been a girl in the sunny, romantic south and did Brother Saul know any more?

  In the middle of the following morning, Helewise was ready to depart. The letters from the queen were safe in a small satchel that Helewise wore at her waist, and the parchments bearing the plans for the new chapel had been carefully rolled and stored inside protective lead cylinders. Brother Saul had been assigned the responsibility of getting them safely back to Hawkenlye.

  Having taken her farewell of the queen, Helewise made her way down to the stables, where the others were waiting for her. Sister Caliste and the lay brothers were already mounted; Josse stood beside Horace.

  ‘Ready, Sir Josse?’ She smiled at him. ‘We should make haste, for our business here is done and we must be on our way.’

  ‘My lady, I am not coming with you.’

  ‘Not . . . ? But, Sir Josse, why ever not?’

  He hesitated and she thought he looked awkward. ‘I have . . . The queen has asked me to fulfil a mission for her. It is a private matter.’ He hurried on as she made to comment, ‘Something that she confided in me yesterday.’

  ‘When she called you back into the hall,’ Helewise breathed. ‘Of course.’ Then a sudden flash of inspiration hit her and she realized that the queen had planned all this. Knowing Helewise, knowing the special place held by Sir Josse d’Acquin in the hearts of everyone at Hawkenlye, Eleanor had been fully aware who Helewise would ask to accompany her on this journey into the unknown. She reached out and caught hold of Josse’s sleeve. ‘Sir Josse, a word,’ she muttered.

  They walked a few paces away from the others. ‘My lady?’ Josse asked in a whisper.

  ‘I realize that this matter must be sensitive and confidential, and that you are sworn to secrecy,’ she whispered back, ‘and I would not dream of trying to make you divulge any details. However, sensitive secrets habitually bring danger with them. Whatever you have to do, dear Josse, and wherever you have to go, take Gussie with you.’

  ‘Gussie!’ Josse exclaimed – too loudly, for the young man heard and his head shot up in alarm.

  ‘It’s all right, Brother Augustus,’ Helewise called. Then, lowering her voice, she said to Josse, ‘I insist. I appreciate that you may not be able to tell him what you’re doing but, please, at least accept him as a travelling companion.’ Sensing that Josse was weakening, she added craftily, ‘You would advise the same thing yourself, would you not?’

  He laughed briefly. ‘Aye, my lady, so I would.’ He paused, frowning. ‘Very well. I’ll take the lad with me and I’ll do what I’ve been commanded to do. I’ll join you at Chartres if I can – I do not know how long my mission will take, but you, I imagine, will be in the city for a few days while you go about the task of engaging your workmen. If I miss you there, then I will meet you back at Hawkenlye.’

  She looked at him. It all seemed very uncertain. It was undoubtedly a long way even to Chartres, never mind back to England, and suddenly the thought of all those miles, all those days, without his cheery, reassuring company seemed hard to bear. However, he had his orders and so did she.

  She squared her shoulders and said, ‘Very well, Sir Josse. God’s speed, and may He keep you safe in His care until we meet again.’

  She could tell he was touched by the same emotion – she read it in his eyes – but then he bowed low, saying gravely as he straightened up, ‘And you too, my lady. Good l
uck.’

  Then there was nothing else to do but give Brother Augustus his new instructions, remove two portions of the supplies and the spare clothing from the packhorse and, with Sister Caliste on one side and Brother Saul on the other, ride out of the courtyard, over the stone bridge and away.

  Queen Eleanor planned to leave later that day. Well, that was understandable, Josse reflected, standing in a corner of the great courtyard and watching as the queen’s luggage train was prepared. She had had her private talk with him and her business here was therefore done. Now she could go on to attend to some of the myriad other matters clamouring for her attention in these uncertain times as her youngest son, King John, took his brother’s place. According to stable-yard gossip, Eleanor was heading first for Rochefort, then on to Saint-Jean-d’Angély and Saintes. ‘She’s got enemies all around her,’ one of the grooms muttered to Josse, ‘and she needs to make sure her own people will help her if she needs them.’

  It seemed as good a summing-up of the position as any, Josse thought. Eleanor’s situation – indeed, King John’s situation – was the one thing every fighting man tried to avoid: facing two enemies at once. Now it was Arthur of Brittany over in the north-west and Philip of France in his heartland around Paris who threatened. Josse did not blame the queen in the least for hastening to ensure the support of her own loyal vassals.

  Finally Eleanor’s party was ready to leave and the queen descended into the courtyard. She was helped on to her horse and, as she turned to ride out across the stone bridge, she cast her eyes around as if for one last look. It seemed, though, that she had a more immediate purpose: spotting Josse, her tense expression relaxed and she beckoned him over.

  He approached and made a low bow. Straightening, he said, ‘Madam?’

  Eleanor leaned down and said, ‘Do you see the squat, swarthy guard at the far end of the bridge? Don’t let him see that you are looking!’ she added in an urgent hiss.

  Slowly Josse ran his eyes all around the crowded courtyard as if assessing the number of people in the procession. Finally looking over at the bridge, he instantly picked out the guard to whom the queen referred. ‘Aye, my lady,’ he said softly.

  ‘When all is quiet and the castle is abed tonight, seek him out. He lodges in a small house close to the port. On its door there is an iron hoop in the shape of a dolphin.’

  Josse bowed again. ‘I will, madam.’

  She glared down at him for a long moment. Then she gave an abrupt nod, kicked the sides of her horse and set off at a smart trot across the courtyard and over the bridge. The long train of her attendants and her baggage snaked after her, leaving behind, when the last of them had gone and the dust had settled, a sudden silence in the courtyard that seemed almost unnatural.

  Josse decided that there was no need to involve Gussie yet, since there could surely be no danger in simply walking down to the harbour to have a chat with one of the castle guards. Accordingly, after supper that night Josse dismissed the young man with the suggestion that he turn in early and catch up on his sleep. Gussie did not need much persuasion; he was already yawning widely as he and Josse said goodnight.

  Josse found a quiet corner at the end of the stable block and sat patiently watching and waiting. Guards came and went on their patrols and, as darkness fell, only a handful were left on watch. He had noticed the previous evening that they did not seem to be in the habit of lowering the great portcullis at night; presumably they felt that the narrow stretch of water between the island and the mainland was defence enough. Anyway, the queen would not have ordered him to slip out under cover of the dark if an iron portcullis stood in the way.

  He noticed that the patrolling guards passed the bridge less frequently now. If he ran, he ought to be able to get out of the castle without being observed. Not giving himself time to worry about what might happen if they did see him, he stepped softly out of his corner, sprinted across the courtyard and over the bridge. Then he was racing down the winding approach to the castle, keeping to the shadows, and he knew by the silence that they hadn’t spotted him.

  He slowed to a walk, panting from exertion. The road led straight to the little harbour, where more of the sort of craft that had carried Josse and his party across the straits lay tied to the jetty. Opposite the water, there was a row of mean-looking dwellings that seemed to lean against the low cliff behind them. Some still showed a light, and Josse could hear the sound of voices. He walked slowly along the row and came to a door whose handle was decorated with a hoop in the shape of a leaping fish. Whether or not it was a dolphin did not seem important and he was prepared to take the queen’s word for it.

  He tapped on the door. Nothing happened. He tapped again, a little more forcefully, and suddenly the door opened. A fist closed on his tunic, he was dragged inside, and the door was closed quietly behind him. The room smelled dank, as if it were hewn from rock, and the air within was chilly. It was pitch black. The hand on Josse’s tunic eased and there was a muttered apology. There came the scratch of a flint and a tallow lamp flared. In its light Josse saw that he was face to face with the swarthy guard.

  ‘Did they see you?’ the guard said, fear very evident in his low voice.

  ‘No,’ Josse said shortly. ‘You know, then, why I have come.’ It seemed the only explanation for the guard’s furtive, frightened manner.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ the dark man said. Then, wearily, ‘Wish I’d had the sense to keep my mouth shut.’

  ‘But you didn’t,’ Josse said, ‘and now I am tasked with hearing what you have to say.’ And deciding whether or not you speak the truth, he could have added.

  As if the man heard the unspoken thought, he said, ‘It’s true. It’s all too true.’ He sank down on to a roughly made bench that stood beside a flimsy table – those items and a low, narrow cot appeared to be the room’s only furniture – and rubbed his face with both hands. A muffled sob escaped him, an unexpected sound in a man of his tough appearance, and he said, ‘God help me, I wish I could say I made it all up, but I can’t. As God is my witness, I saw what I saw and I would swear it before the highest authority in the land.’ He gave a bitter laugh. ‘And that’d be just what the new king would want to hear!’

  Josse folded his arms, leaned back against the door and said, ‘You’d better explain.’

  The dark man shot him a suspicious glance. ‘What have you been told?’

  ‘They say –’ Josse thought it better not to mention the queen – ‘that there is a group of knights on the island and that they are involved in foul practices. Devil worship, apparently, and the abuse of young boys.’

  The man was rigid with tension. ‘What else?’ he demanded.

  Josse hesitated. Then, for there seemed to be no choice, ‘It is said the late king is involved.’

  Now the man relaxed. Nodding, looking knowingly up at Josse with a sardonic smile, he said, ‘And she’s sent you to find out if it’s true.’ Josse did not reply. ‘Oh, it’s true all right.’

  Josse said, ‘Tell me.’

  The man did not speak for some moments. He got up and stepped over to the door and, as Josse moved aside, opened it the merest crack and peered out. Satisfied, he shut it again, barred it and resumed his seat on the bench. Then, as if he had to get on with his tale before his resolve evaporated, he said in a low, swift mutter, ‘There’s this knight, Philippe de Loup. He’s got a stronghold on the island, a castle that’s more like a fortress, right up on the north-west tip, where the winds blow and the sea frets come up like will-o’-the-wisps and hide the evil that’s done there. They call it World’s End and I tell you, they’re right. Nobody goes there unless they have to – it’s haunted, it is, and we all avoid the place like it were the devil’s own.’

  ‘I was told there was a group of them,’ Josse said. ‘This de Loup’s companions must go there.’

  ‘Oh, they do,’ the guard agreed. Leaning closer, he said, ‘They call themselves the Knights of Arcturus, although other folk refer to them as the Th
irteen Nobles. They keep themselves to themselves, I’ll give them that, but it’s the way of it that people who make a dead secret of their comings and goings are always the subject of far more gossip and speculation than those who live their lives in the open for all to see.’

  ‘I’ve never heard of either title,’ Josse said.

  ‘No, well, they’re secret, like I say,’ the guard said testily. ‘Few folk have heard of them, for all that they’ve been around for a hundred years or more.’ His voice dropped to a dramatic whisper. ‘They guard something too terrible to be spoken aloud.’

  ‘I see.’ Josse wondered exactly where accuracy stopped and fear-fuelled local folklore began. ‘So how does all this involve . . . er, involve the important person who is recently deceased?’

  The guard frowned momentarily, as if working out what Josse meant. Then, the cynical smile back on his face, he said, ‘Oh, him. Well, they were here, de Loup and his knights, back in March. Towards the beginning of March, as I recall.’ A few weeks before King Richard died, Josse thought. ‘They came by night and the weather was foul, with a westerly blowing hard and seas as high as they come around here. I’ll give those knights credit for their seamanship and their courage, I’ll tell you that – you wouldn’t have caught me crossing the straits on a night like that. Anyway, they landed safely and set off at a fast pace out across the island to de Loup’s fortress. Something terrible happened that night. Screams were heard coming from the tower, dreadful, horrifying, agonized screams, enough to make a man’s blood freeze in his body, and through the arrow slits in the room above that great fortified entrance there poured a brilliant, unearthly blue light that suddenly changed to blood red.’ He sat back with a nod, as if to say, what do you make of that?

  Josse was thinking hard. Screams were heard, he repeated to himself. Who heard them? But perhaps now was not the moment to ask. ‘Go on,’ he said neutrally.