The Song of the Nightingale (18 page)

She gave a faint smile. Reaching inside a fold of her robe that lay over her heart, she drew out a small rectangular object, wrapped in black silk. Unfolding the silk, she put on the little table in front of her a set of the images that he'd noticed the bonshommes carried, and which they used to help others understand the complexities of their faith. Most sets were simple, crudely drawn on thin paper. The ones that Alazaïs now spread out before him were painted on to heavy card and were stunningly beautiful.

‘Behold,' she said, ‘the secret heart of our faith. Encoded in these twenty-one images, Ninian, hidden in symbols that no outsider could penetrate, is the journey of the soul as it passes its years down here in its earthly existence.' He was staring down at the images, his eyes dazzled by the glorious colours and the high degree of the artistry. He was also experiencing the disconcerting illusion that cool fingers were walking their way down his spine: the images seemed to generate a strong, mysterious power. ‘Would you like to take the journey with me?'

He found his voice. ‘Yes.'

She had laid the images out in a particular sequence – three rows of seven – and now she straightened the edges so that they were perfectly in line. Pointing to the card on the left of the top row, she said, ‘Here we begin, for this is the Lost Soul; the angelic spirit trapped in an earthly body and torn out of its true home in the spirit realm. Here—' she went on to the second image – ‘is the Free Spirit, and a door opens just a crack to admit a tiny light, representing the faint hope that the Lost Soul may find his way home again if he can overcome all the challenges and dangers that await on the journey. Here—' she indicated a strange, robed figure which, although clearly an authority figure, was female – ‘we have the female face of religion, or perhaps you would say Mother Church, and she is our enemy; after her comes her male counterpart, the human head of that church.' She paused, and he thought he detected a tremor in her hand.

She went on, pointing to the next two images and identifying them as the Queen and the King, representing temporal power on earth, and the one that came next, symbolizing the temptations of the carnal – love and procreation – both of which tried to pull the Lost Soul from his true path. ‘Finally in the first row comes the Wagon,' Alazaïs said, ‘and here, see, is the picture of a rich man's worldly goods loaded high on a runaway wagon that is out of control and about to crash, to the ruin of everything on it. This is the temptation of materialism, and the image illustrates its ultimate futility.'

The low, steady voice compelled him to listen as her finger went on to the next row, describing each image as she came to it, setting out for him the journey and the qualities needed to endure it. Fortitude. The strength to withdraw and seek extraordinary courage. A warning not to seek justice within the confines of the world. The wheel of fate, and the assessment of the soul at the completion of each turn.

With a sudden light in her eyes, she said, ‘Now we come to the soul commencing transition. Great suffering must be endured as the end of physical existence approaches, but the agony is assuaged by the promise of the glory ahead. Here is Death, the end of life incarnate, and here Alchemy, as the consolamentum purifies and releases the soul, allowing it to quit the body.'

Her hands now spread over the last line of seven images. ‘Here is the ruler of the material world in all his evil, waving in fury as he tries to call the soul back. But, see, he is impotent in his rage, for the soul is already free, flying up towards the Angelic Realm. Now the great material edifices of the world collapse, shattering and breaking; many choose to see these building as symbols of the Church, ultimately failing. Here is the Star—' she indicated a beautiful image of a fragile, ethereal star bathed in silvery light – ‘which is the first level of spirit; and here is the Moon, which is the second. Here is the Sun, whose fire and heat burn off all the impurities that the Lost Soul has gathered during its time on earth, leaving it pure and clean as it was before its long imprisonment. Now, at last, it is ready for Transcendence—' she pointed to the penultimate card – ‘where the soul completes its long and arduous journey and is once more simple free spirit.' She paused, catching a quick breath. ‘Here the soul may at last hear the first snatches of the heavenly music, speeding him on his way. And finally, here is the Angelic Realm.'

She fell silent. Ninian, looking up, saw tears rolling down her face. Hastily, he returned his attention to the final image.

It was the most glorious of all. The Angelic Realm was depicted in colours that seemed to glow, radiating heat that he thought his tentative, questing fingers could actually detect. The landscape was beautiful in its clean, pure simplicity, and the softly-rolling green hills and sparkling streams were tinged with gold, appearing transparent. There were figures in the picture, although they were vague and indistinct. They seemed to float over the shining ground as if they were too light to touch it.

Ninian's heart filled with a joy so intense that he could barely contain it. He tried to speak, but no sound came. He felt Alazaïs's hand gently touch his own.

‘You see?' she asked softly. ‘You understand?'

He shook his head. ‘No, oh, no. This – this journey, this story that symbolizes the basis of your faith, it's too complex for me.' He raised his head and met her eyes. ‘But I do understand now why you asked for my help.'

She was nodding. ‘Yes, I see that you do.' She paused, weighing her words. ‘These images represent our deepest secrets,' she said, her voice grave. ‘I have explained the journey very briefly, for I would have you know what it is you carry, yet our wisest elders spend years – lifetimes – studying the symbols, and there is always more to learn.' She sighed. ‘When we are gone, we would be happy to know that our precious images still exist somewhere in the world we leave behind. While just one set remains, there is the hope that what we were and what we believed will not be entirely lost.'

He wanted to make the obvious objection: that, if the images were so complex and the symbolism so obscure, then, without anybody to translate them, the hope was a pretty faint one. But he didn't.

What he did say, as many different strands finally came together in his mind and he looked up into her eyes, was, ‘Yes. I'll do it.'

I
t seemed to Josse that he had been searching for the Brown Man for days, although in truth it had only been the afternoon and evening of one day and the early part of the next. Yesterday he had scoured the forest closest to Hawkenlye Abbey, going back in his memories and seeking out all the places where he had ever known somebody to hide. He had wondered briefly about going to check in the area immediately around Joanna's hut, probably the best hiding place of all, since even he, who was well aware of its existence and would have said he knew how to get there, quite often had a problem locating it. In the end, he didn't bother. According to Helewise, Meggie had gone to the hut to fetch supplies, and he very much doubted it was the first time. If there had been any sign that someone had been there, she would have noticed and told him.

He had found nothing and, as darkness fell and made further searching impossible, he had turned for home. This morning, with an eager Geoffroi by his side, he had been concentrating on the area further east, closer to the House in the Woods. Heartbreakingly, they had checked the camp where Ninian had briefly stayed last autumn, before he fled. Full of memories and images of Ninian, the place had clearly lain undisturbed since its former occupant had left.

Now, Josse made up his mind to go back to Hawkenlye, and, if there was no news there, on to Tonbridge. He was deeply uneasy, although he did not know why. Mentally, he went through all the people he loved, reminding himself where they were and what they were doing. Apart from Ninian – and his absence was an ongoing pain that Josse could never make himself get used to – everyone was accounted for.

He realized that his distress was on behalf of the Brown Man; he had failed to find him, and perhaps that meant that he'd been wrong about the man choosing to hide in the forest. Supposing he had stayed close to Tonbridge? Supposing Lord Benedict's gang of thugs and bullies were even now surrounding him, closing in on him while he lay in an exhausted sleep, preparing to jump on him, beat him, bind him and take him captive to some foul prison from which he would only emerge for his hanging?

Having decided, Josse took Geoffroi back to the House in the Woods and left him in Gus's care, with strict instructions to keep a close watch on the lad. ‘I am going to seek for news, at Hawkenlye first and then down in Tonbridge. Geoffroi is wild to come with me,' Josse said quietly to Gus, ‘but there is danger there, and I would not put him at risk.' Briefly, he explained.

‘I know of Lord Benedict,' Gus said, a look of disgust twisting his pleasant face. ‘If one of his gangs finds this Brown Man of yours, I pity him.'

‘Let's hope they don't,' Josse replied.

‘Amen to that,' Gus muttered. He helped Josse back into Alfred's saddle. ‘Good luck,' he said.

‘I'll need it,' Josse replied.

Since he had to ride almost right past the clearing by St Edmund's Chapel to get to the abbey, he decided to make the brief detour and speak to the three women there. He would not be long, he told himself, and if there was news at the abbey, it could wait for that short while.

It was almost noon. A fire had been lit in a newly-built hearth behind the chapel, and the smell of whatever broth or stew was simmering over it filled the clearing. Josse's rumbling stomach reminded him he had not eaten since the sparse breakfast he had snatched at dawn. Slipping off Alfred's back, he tethered the big horse at the edge of the tree line and headed over to the group gathered around the fire.

There were perhaps a dozen people there, ranging in age from an elderly, toothless grand-dame wrapped in an old sack to a baby bound snugly in a shawl against its mother's chest. With the exception of the baby, every man, woman and child was rapidly shovelling in food, as if the crude wooden bowls were about to be snatched away. Studying these people, many of whom looked as if they hadn't seen food for days, Josse was ashamed of himself. He, who'd already eaten that morning, had been about to demand a share of the broth.

His eyes sought out Helewise, who was standing beside the hearth with a big white apron tied round her waist and a ladle in her hand. She was watching the hungry people, smiling in satisfaction as they ate. She had not noticed him.

I have to do something to help
, she had said to him when she told him she was planning to come back here. Well, she was succeeding. In just a few days, she and the others had got this little sanctuary up and running, with food available, advice on injuries and sickness from Meggie, and, in Helewise herself, the firm support of a woman whom most of the local people knew and trusted.

He had to admit she had been right.

He glanced around, looking for the others. There was Little Helewise, talking to the woman with the baby. The girl was pale, he thought, and she looked anxious. As if she felt his eyes on her, she turned. He could hear her gasp even from several paces away.

What was the matter with her? Helewise had told him only yesterday that the girl's spirits were much improved, yet there she was, looking at him as if he was the last person she wanted to see.

Suddenly, cold fear clutched at his heart.
Where was Meggie?

Not stopping to think, he ran into the chapel, flinging back the door so violently that it banged hard against the stone wall. Not there. He turned and raced across the clearing, past the lay brothers' shelter and into the little cell. His eyes scanned it – three tidily-made cots, the hearth swept and kindling laid ready, the women's belongings neatly stowed on and under their beds.

No, that was wrong. Two sets of belongings were stored by the owners' beds; the third cot was bare.

Meggie was no longer there.

He spun round and was about to burst out of the cell when Helewise rushed in, her granddaughter on her heels.

‘
Where is she?
' he demanded, his voice a roar of pain. ‘And don't tell me she's at the hut,' he shouted, before Helewise could speak, ‘because it'd be a lie and I won't believe you – she's taken
everything
!'

Helewise took his arm in a firm grip and steered him to the largest of the three beds. ‘Sit down, Josse,' she said, and her voice was once more that of a former abbess of Hawkenlye. He sank on to the bed, and she stood over him, Little Helewise lurking uncomfortably behind her.

‘Tell me the truth,' he said hoarsely.

‘I would not lie to you,' she replied. ‘We have been waiting for you, for we must pass on to you all that we know.' She shot a quick glance at Little Helewise. ‘We guessed you would return to the abbey, but we resolved that if you had not done so by noon – now – we would seek you out at the House in the Woods.'

His heart was thumping painfully. ‘To say what?'

She sat down beside him, taking his hand in hers. ‘Dear Josse, Meggie has gone to search for Ninian.'

He tried to leap to his feet, but she held him back; he had forgotten how strong she was. ‘I've got to go after her!' he cried. Rounding on her, he shouted, ‘
Why didn't you tell me as soon as you found out?
'

Helewise glanced at her granddaughter, and he thought he read reproof in the look. Pointing at her, he yelled, ‘It's
your
fault, is it? You're to blame, for keeping my daughter's disappearance to yourself!'

Little Helewise went white, and one hand clutched at her stomach. Josse barely saw the gesture; he wanted to leap at her and shake the truth out of her.

‘Don't shout at her, Josse, she's—' Helewise began, quickly getting to her feet and going to stand protectively in front of her granddaughter. But then, to Josse's surprise and, to judge by her expression, Helewise's too, the girl gently moved Helewise out of the way.