Read Online Ashes of the Elements by Alys Clare - Free Book Online Page B

sheriff became voluble. ‘Well, stands to reason,’ he said, leaning confidingly towards Josse. ‘See, the dead man was a poacher, a no-good fellow, I’ve had my problems with him before. Anyway, how I see it is that he goes into the forest after game, he comes across this group of Forest People, they don’t like him trespassing into what they see as their preserve, so they chuck a spear at him. Kill him stone dead.’
    ‘Very likely, very likely,’ Josse agreed. ‘Clever deduction, Sheriff! The only solution, really, isn’t it? Especially when you knew these Forest People were in the vicinity that night.’
    ‘Well…’ the sheriff began. Then, more aggressively, ‘That uppity Abbess woman, she didn’t believe me! Me, who’s lived round here man and boy, who’s known about the comings and goings of those wild folk all my life! Why, my old father used to talk of them, and his father before that!’ He picked a piece of meat out of a back tooth, spat it on the floor and said, ‘Women! Eh? Think they know it all!’
    ‘I am actually rather impressed with the Abbess Helewise,’ Josse remarked.
    It was a mistake. The sheriff, anger darkening his face, said suspiciously, ‘She sent you here, didn’t she? Sent you to talk to me, try to trip me up!’ He put his face right against Josse’s. ‘Well, let me tell you, Sir Knight, whoever you are, that Harry Pelham doesn’t take kindly to folk making a fool of him!’
    ‘I’m not trying to do that, Sheriff Pelham.’ Josse got to his feet. ‘There’s no need,’ he added, ‘for anyone to make a fool of you.’
    Harry Pelham, who seemed to be working out whether or not that last remark came to a compliment, sat with his mouth open as Josse shouldered his way out of the room.
    *   *   *
    Riding up the ridge towards Hawkenlye, Josse thought about the death of Hamm Robinson.
    Not that it took him long; the facts were brief enough to be summed up in a single sentence. And, as Abbess Helewise had said, nobody seemed to have investigated the matter. Not at all.
    I shall, Josse thought. I shall visit his family, his friends, if he had any. Visit the spot where he was found.
    I shall think about this strange slaying. And, only when I have done so, shall I know if to accept this all-too-obvious, all-too-convenient conclusion.
    *   *   *
    Arriving at the Abbey, he was informed that the Abbess was in the infirmary, speaking with a man dying of the wasting sickness, whose last hours were being made even more agonising by his fear over what would become of his wife and his many children.
    Josse went over to the infirmary. Standing just inside the door, left slightly ajar to let in the sweet-smelling air, he looked around him.
    Yes. There was the Abbess, kneeling beside a poor, feeble-looking man who was clutching her hands tightly in his. So the man had a large family? Yes. Josse had observed before how often men suffering from the terrible blood-spitting were yet potent enough to father a whole tribe of offspring. Josse studied the Abbess’s intent face. She was speaking earnestly to the man, nodding as if in emphasis, every part of her clearly determined to get her message across.
    Josse, unable to hear what she was saying, couldn’t tell what that message was. Assurance of God’s mercy? Hope for the afterlife? It occurred to him that, if he himself were dying and desperate, there was nobody he would rather have, both at his side and on it, than the Abbess Helewise.
    A soft voice said, ‘May I help you, sir?’
    Turning, he saw a young girl in nun’s black, over which she wore the white veil of the novice. She was quite tall, slimly built, and carried herself like a queen. The skin of her finely boned face was cream and smooth, and her eyes were deep blue. Despite the stark habit, despite the fact that her sacking apron was stained with something Josse didn’t want to dwell on, the girl was beautiful.
    He knew who she was, or was almost sure that he did.