Ashes of the Elements Read online

  He came to a stop, thinking hard.

  Hilde had said that Caliste was going into the forest after another sister. But supposing the old woman hadn’t really heard properly? Had jumped to conclusions – which would have been understandable – and only thought that Caliste had meant another nun?

  Perhaps what Caliste had really said was that one of the others had gone ahead into the forest, and Hilde, on the basis that the others were all nuns, had translated the remark and understood it as ‘one of the sisters’?

  I know one of the Hawkenlye community who goes into the forest, Josse thought. At least, I think that’s where she’d been, when I met her on her way back to the Abbey. This very morning.

  Had Esyllt returned there now? Was it she whom Caliste had followed?

  There was only one way to find out. Deciding that there was little point in dashing back to talk it over with Abbess Helewise, instead Josse hurried on into the forest.

  * * *

  He realised quite soon that he was lost.

  He had imagined it would be far easier finding his way in late afternoon than it had been by the moonlight of last night. But, unfortunately, a thick bank of cloud had come up from the west, so that, deep within the trees with no sun to guide him, he had no way of getting his bearings. And, as he was quickly discovering, one path looked much like another. One stand of ancient oaks was indistinguishable from the next.

  It began to rain.

  With no clear idea which way would lead him further into the forest and which would take him back to the world outside, he crawled into the shelter of a yew tree, pressed his back against its trunk and waited for the rain to stop and the skies to clear.

  * * *

  He sat under his yew tree for a long time. Its dense foliage kept out most of the rain, but sitting still meant that he grew cold. After what seemed like hours, he realised that it had become quite dark.

  And that the rain had, at long last, ceased.

  He stepped out from under his tree, feeling a sudden and inexplicable urge to thank it for its protection. Going back and putting a hand to the trunk, he actually found himself framing the words.

  Fool! he thought, hurrying away. It’s only a tree! It can’t hear.

  Back on the track, he followed it until he came to a clearing. Staring up, he saw a sight that released in him a flood of relief: a perfectly cloudless sky. The moon was full, and riding high, giving nearly as much light as day, and, over to the north, he could make out the Plough and the Pointers.

  Now that he knew which way led out of the forest, he felt less inclined to take it. He hadn’t actually achieved anything yet; all he had done was to get himself lost and shelter from the rain beneath a tree. He had found neither Esyllt, Sister Caliste, nor any sign of either of them.

  Working out which direction he had taken the previous night, making a mental map of the forest, he stepped out under the brilliant full moon and headed on into the heart of the woods. He was still wearing the talisman, on his leather thong; he reached inside his tunic and, drawing it out, clutched on to it.

  * * *

  Nobody had told Josse that Hamm Robinson had been killed on a full moon night. Exactly one lunar month ago, Hamm had trespassed into the Great Forest, and somebody had spitted him with a spear.

  Perhaps it was as well, for Josse’s peace of mind, that he didn’t know it.

  * * *

  More by luck than judgement, Josse found himself back at the grove with the fallen trees. In the midst of congratulating himself on his skill, he was suddenly overcome by an urge as strong, if not stronger, than the strange emotion he had felt underneath the yew tree. Not understanding, and with the sense that he was outside himself, a witness to his own actions, he stepped slowly across to the larger of the trees. Putting out his hands, he held them palm-downwards above the great trunk.

  At first he felt nothing. Then, right in the middle of each palm, he began to feel a tingling. It grew swiftly in strength until it was almost burning him, only just tolerable. And, at the same time, he was hit with a devastating sadness, a mourning, almost, for the vast dying thing that lay at his feet.

  Moving across to the smaller oak, he repeated the action. This time, as well as sorrow, there was anger.

  Someone had killed this tree, deliberately.

  And the forest was furious.

  Josse felt that fury. Standing there, a profound, deep dread upon him, he began to shake with fear.

  Summoning his courage, he stepped away from the fallen trees. Squaring his shoulders, standing up straight, he said softly, ‘“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me, Thy rod and Thy staff do comfort me…”’

  He trailed off. No, it was not evil that he feared. He stood in awe of some vast natural power, but it was not an evil force. He was sure of that.

  Comforted by the familiar words of the psalm, he took some deep breaths, then set out to explore the far side of the clearing.

  Beyond the spot where, according to Josse’s theory, Hamm Robinson, Seth and Ewen had been digging for treasure, there seemed to be another disturbance in the forest floor. Josse hadn’t noticed it the previous night, but now, staring at it, he began to wonder. If he’d been right about the treasure being Roman in origin, then might that not suggest there were other relics of the Romans in this area of the forest?

  He made his way carefully to the edge of the clearing. There were stones there, ancient, worked slabs of stone, forming the rough shape of a right-angle … The remains of two walls of a building?

  Pushing his way into the undergrowth, Josse followed the line of the better-preserved of the walls. And came to a gap, spanned by a flat slab. A doorway?

  Stepping back to have a better look, he tripped over something. Feeling with his hands, he found a circular stone, broken off at an angle.

  Hurrying now, he searched first to the right, then to the left. And quickly found five more round stones.

  They were, he was certain, column bases. Which, from what little he knew about Roman buildings, strongly suggested that this edifice had been a temple.

  He circled the walls, finding the remains of a stone floor, and, leading away from the entrance, a paved road, badly broken up, overgrown, all but gone.

  But it was evidence enough. The Romans – or someone – had built a temple here, deep in the forest. They had mined here, that Josse knew already, built their roads here. Now, if he were right, it must be concluded that they had also buried something very valuable out here.

  We must come back here with a proper working party, Josse thought, bring ropes and—

  He heard voices.

  Muttering voices, speaking quietly as if anxious not to be heard.

  Very close at hand.

  Moving as silently as he could, Josse hurried back into his temple. Crouching down behind the ruined wall, he pulled down a branch of hazel to cover his head and peered out into the clearing.

  Two men were approaching the fallen trees, carrying what looked like a spade and a sack. They were still muttering, and Josse thought he could detect fear in the higher pitched of the voices.

  ‘… still ain’t happy, all the same, not after you-know-what,’ one was saying.

  ‘Shut up and dig,’ said the other.

  And Ewen and Seth clambered down into the hole under the trees and began to shovel out earth.

  Josse watched them for some time. Periodically one or other would emerge, put something in the sack, then disappear into the ground again.

  When the noise came, it scared Josse as much as it did Seth and Ewen.

  It was a humming sound, rather lovely at first. Sweet, like singing. Or chanting, perhaps.

  But then, as if the strange music had slid into a scale that no human ever used, it began to chill the very soul. As it grew louder, making the night air vibrate with its sound waves, Josse, crouched down behind his walls, trying to make himself small. Trying to make himself invisib
le. For, illogical though it was, he was assailed by the fear that there were people out there, watching him from their hiding places, deep-set eyes penetrating the shadows, lighting on him, knowing him …

  He felt a moment’s pity for Seth and Ewen, out there in the middle of the clearing, exposed and vulnerable. Ewen had his hands over his ears, Seth, clutching the half-full sack to his chest, was trying to look challenging, but succeeding only in looking afraid.

  ‘Oo’s there?’ Seth shouted. His words made no echo: their sound was instantly cut off, as if someone had closed a mighty door.

  ‘I’m off!’ Ewen sobbed, running and stumbling out of the clearing. Seth began to go after him, but just at that moment the humming stopped.

  Seth stood quite still, looking all around him as if suspecting a trap.

  But there was no further sound.

  He climbed back into the ground, coming up again, grunting with effort, bearing some large object in his hands. Stuffing it into the sack – with some difficulty – he had a last look around the clearing, then, slinging the bulging sack over one shoulder and picking up his spade in the other hand, set off after Ewen.

  Josse gave him a few minutes’ start, then, coming out from his hiding place, moved stealthily back into the clearing. Staring first down the path which the men had taken, then around the circumference of the encircling trees, he began to suspect his eyes were playing tricks.

  Either that, or—

  No. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about.

  What Josse thought he saw was a figure.

  Human, and, by its slenderness, female. Robed in white, a little stooped. And, in her hand, a long wand.

  But it must have been his eyes, seeing imaginary sights. Because, when he rubbed them hard and looked again, she was no longer there.

  Josse clutched at his talisman. He felt the point of the sword press into his hand, and the small sharp pain brought him back to himself.

  It was just the effect of the forest, he told himself, of the watchful, silent trees, of the ancient workings, the ruined buildings and edifices of a long-gone people. And that humming – that dire, haunting humming – was probably no more than some weird effect of the wind in the branches.

  But the night was still and calm.

  There wasn’t any wind.

  He tried to stay calm. Telling himself that he was making a rational decision, that the dark, swooping waves of alien power he could sense emanating from the dense wood all around him had nothing whatever to do with it, he concluded that there really was no purpose in staying out any longer. That, for all the good he was doing, he might as well head back to the Abbey. He was on the point of doing just that when another, very different, sound seared through the forest.

  It wasn’t humming, this time. It didn’t even begin as a sweet sound, and there was no suggestion in it whatsoever of music, of singing.

  It was a scream.

  A human scream, beginning faintly, swiftly escalating to a high-toned, vibrant pitch of sheer terror.

  It ended, abruptly, in a sort of groan.

  Then, as the echoes died away, the utter silence of the brooding forest closed in once more.

  And Josse, at last losing what little remained of his self-control, heedless of the brambles and the tangling undergrowth that tried to hold him back, raced out of the clearing and off down the path that led to the outside world.

  PART TWO

  DEATH IN THE FOREST

  Chapter Nine

  Josse returned to the Abbey to find, for all that it was after midnight, the community still awake, with torches blazing in the courtyard and lighting the shadows of the cloisters.

  After the frightening darkness deep within the trees, it was a blessed relief.

  He found the Abbess in her room, with the door open; it was, he thought briefly as the impression hit him, as if, in that night of anxiety and disturbance, she wanted her nuns to feel that she was close by. Accessible.

  She got up as he came into the room.

  ‘Abbess, I haven’t found her,’ he began, ‘but I think—’

  At the same moment, she said, her face full of joy, ‘She’s here! Sister Caliste has come back, and she is quite safe! Quite unharmed!’

  ‘Thank God,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Amen,’ the Abbess echoed, then hurried on, ‘Sir Josse, would you credit it! She’s dreadfully sorry to have caused us all this worry and trouble, she says, but she went for a little walk under the trees and forgot the time! Dear me, did you ever hear such a silly idea?’

  ‘She forgot the time,’ Josse repeated. He didn’t want to admit it to the Abbess, but, knowing the forest now rather better than she did, in fact he could see all too clearly how such a thing could happen. ‘Where is she?’ he asked, turning his thoughts with an effort away from the mystical spell of the forest and on to more urgent matters. ‘You say she is not hurt, but has she taken a chill?’

  ‘She’s fine.’ Abbess Helewise’s relief was evident in her wide smile. ‘She is on her knees in the Abbey church. She is full of remorse, as I said, and praying for God’s forgiveness for having upset all her sisters so badly.’

  Sisters. That reminded him. ‘Abbess, this may sound a strange question, but do you know where Esyllt is?’

  ‘Esyllt?’ Clearly, it did sound a strange question. ‘She sleeps in a little dormitory in the aged monks’ and nuns’ home,’ the Abbess said, frowning. ‘Often they need attention during the night, you see. I’m quite sure that’s where she is.’ Eyes turning to Josse, she demanded, ‘Why?’

  ‘Could you send someone to check?’ he urged. ‘Abbess, I wouldn’t ask if it were not important!’

  She seemed to recover herself. ‘No, of course you wouldn’t. Wait here, I’ll go myself.’

  He waited. Sank down on the wooden stool, leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.

  A little later, she came back. One look at her face told him he’d been right.

  ‘Not there?’ he asked.

  ‘Not there.’ The frown was back, deeper than before. ‘Do you know where she is, Sir Josse?’

  ‘Where she is now? No, not exactly. But I have an idea where she went earlier.’ Briefly he outlined to the Abbess the idea he’d had when he was setting off into the forest.

  The Abbess was nodding slowly. ‘It seems you were right,’ she said. ‘But why? Why should Esyllt make secret visits into the forest? And at night!’

  ‘They would have to be at night, if they were to be secret,’ he pointed out. And, even though she’d gone at night, she hadn’t managed to keep it secret from him; he’d seen her returning, yesterday morning.

  ‘Quite, quite,’ Helewise was saying impatiently. ‘But for what purpose? And why should Sister Caliste know about it, whatever it was, and be prompted to follow her?’

  ‘Abbess, there’s something else,’ Josse said. ‘Something which, unless I’m very much mistaken, is more dreadful than a young woman going off into the forest at night.’

  A sudden terrible thought struck him. Caliste was safely back within the Abbey walls, but Esyllt wasn’t.

  Oh, God, what if that appalling, long drawn-out scream of agony had been hers?

  What if it was she who now lay insensate in the forest, hidden in some place off the main track?

  ‘What? Josse, what?’ The Abbess was shaking him. ‘Tell me! Dear God, but you’ve gone ashen!’

  He stood up. ‘Abbess, when I was still deep in the forest, I heard a dreadful cry. I’m very much afraid that the killer has struck again. And that—’

  ‘Esyllt!’ Now she, too, was ashen. ‘Oh, no! Oh, sweet Jesus, no! Not—’

  ‘There were others abroad!’ he said, grabbing her by her hands. ‘I fear there’s no doubt but that there’s been another attack, but, Abbess, it is by no means certain that the victim must be Esyllt!’

  She was staring at him wide-eyed. ‘We must go and look!’ she cried. ‘Whoever the victim is, we must search for them. Now! All of us!’<
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  And, before he could even try to stop her, she had rushed out of the room, skirts of her habit flying, calling out to her senior nuns. Very soon afterwards, she had made her arrangements; efficient even in such a frightful crisis, she had organised and dispatched the search parties more quickly than Josse would have thought possible.

  He waited for her to come back and tell him what she wanted of him, and at last she returned to her room. Wiping sweat from her brow – the night was close – she said, ‘Sir Josse, will you come out and search with me?’

  Making her a bow, he said, ‘Gladly I will.’

  * * *

  Marching off into the forest, Abbess Helewise was more glad than she would have admitted to have Josse’s steady tread at her side. And she had made sure that Sister Euphemia, Sister Basilia and Sister Martha also had strong men with them in their search parties; moreover, every man of them armed with stout staves. Few of the lay brothers, she reflected, would have much sleep this night.

  The darkness under the trees was more profound than she had expected. But then, the night was wearing on, and the moon no longer so high in the sky. Full moon, she mused. Full moon again, and now a second murder.

  To take her mind off her fears over who the victim was, she said to Josse, ‘Sir Josse, do you realise that—’

  But she never asked her question. For at that moment, flying towards them with her skirts raised high around her bare thighs, blood on her outstretched hands, on her chin and on her gown, hair awry and face as pale as death, came Esyllt.

  Seeing them, she screamed, ‘He’s dead! And there’s so much blood!’

  Then she rushed into Helewise’s arms.

  In the first few seconds, Helewise could do nothing but hold the girl tightly against her breast, cradling her, quieting the harsh sound of her sobbing.

  ‘Hush, child,’ she murmured, dropping a kiss on the wild hair, ‘you’re safe now. We won’t let any harm come to you.’

  Esyllt pulled away from her, craning round to look back over her shoulder down the path along which she had just come.