Heart of Ice (36 page)

     Now she was back where she began  . . .

     Tiphaine reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. ‘Don’t be afraid.’

     ‘I’m not – well, I am, but it’s more that I feel I’m being watched. Scrutinised, in fact.’

     Tiphaine chuckled. ‘That’s because you are, child.’

     The herbalist led the way, unerringly following the right path. They had covered about half the distance to their destination when quite suddenly, with absolutely no warning of their approach, two silent figures appeared before them, one standing a little behind the other.

     Both Tiphaine and Caliste recognised the foremost figure and, as one, they dropped to their knees before her. The Domina reached out her hands, first to Tiphaine – ‘Welcome; it is good to see you again’ – and then, a tender expression flooding the ageless face, to Caliste. She raised the young woman to her feet and then took her in her arms, whispering in her ear, ‘And welcome, too, to you, beloved granddaughter.’

     Caliste, memories rising irrepressibly, found that she was weeping.

     Then Lora – for she it was who attended the Domina – stepped forward and gently reminded her honoured elder that their purpose was urgent. The Domina released Caliste, turned and, with Lora at her side, led the small procession on to Joanna’s clearing.

A strange sensation was waxing in Tiphaine. She was well aware of the strength of Joanna’s earlier refusal to give her help – she had witnessed it, after all – but somehow that did not seem to count any more. Fight as she might to suppress the feeling, she could not; and the sensation was optimism.

     The Domina entered the clearing before Joanna’s hut, Lora a pace to the rear and the two Hawkenlye nuns behind her. Caliste, Tiphaine observed, was very pale; this return to her birthplace and her own people must, Tiphaine realised, be traumatic. She moved closer to the girl and Caliste, sensing her presence and probably also her compassionate concern, turned and gave her a very sweet smile. ‘Don’t worry; I am all right,’ she whispered.

     ‘Good girl,’ Tiphaine whispered back.

     They came to a stop behind the two forest women. Then the Domina called out, in a voice that was pitched low but somehow, like the call of a bird, carried pure and clear, ‘Beith, come out.’

     Beith. Birch, Tiphaine thought. That must be Joanna’s name within the tribe. The deep honour of being included in one of the forest people’s mysteries – their secret identity known only to a precious few – affected her profoundly and she bowed her head.

     But then there came a succession of small sounds as Joanna opened her door and stepped out. Eyes blinking open, Tiphaine stared at her.

     She looked quite different; in no way was she the everyday Joanna whom Tiphaine knew and had last seen. She wore a hooded red tunic, heavily embroidered with rich gold, and over it a widely flaring cloak made of some sort of speckled wool. It was fastened with a golden pin like running horse. Her long dark hair was braided, the plaits hanging down over her shoulders and reaching well below her breasts. The leather sandals on her feet were beautifully made and their clasps were of gold. A leather satchel hung from her shoulder and in her hand she held a rod of wood – it would be hawthorn, Tiphaine thought – in whose tip had been inserted a brownish crystal.

     She stood quite still now, staring out at them with dark, unfathomable eyes. She has indeed come into her power, Tiphaine thought humbly, and, almost without her own volition, she gave a deep and respectful bow.

     Then there was the sound of a child’s laughter; Meggie had come out after her mother and was expressing her delight at seeing Lora, whom she knew and loved. The sweet sound broke whatever spell was on the clearing and Tiphaine let out a sigh of relief.

     ‘Beith, we come as four women from two different worlds with the same request,’ the Domina said. But before she could go on, Joanna spoke.

     She went on her knees before the Domina, the wide skirts of her cloak flowing gracefully around her, and, head down, she said, ‘Forgive me, but I know what you would ask of me. I have already decided that I must do what you want.’

     The Domina paused, then said, ‘Another has spoken to you.’

     ‘Yes,’ Joanna agreed. She raised her eyes and an unreadable exchange of glances flashed between her and the Domina.

     ‘It is well,’ the Domina breathed. ‘Beith, you know now what is required of you and of your own free will you have accepted the task. This is so?’

     ‘It is,’ Joanna said firmly.

     The Domina held out her hand and helped Joanna to her feet. ‘Then,’ she said, casting her eyes around the small group, ‘let us be on our way.’

They stopped when they reached the outer fringes of the forest. Hawkenlye Abbey lay before them; Joanna would not take Meggie any closer.

     Tiphaine and Caliste hastened away, Caliste running down the slope and along the path that ran outside the walls, racing to fetch a vessel of the holy spring water; Tiphaine to fetch the Eye of Jerusalem from its hiding place in the Abbess’s room. While they were gone, Lora sat down on a fallen branch and kept Meggie entertained; the Domina stood still and silent as a statue.

     Joanna, her mind turned inward as she summoned all her reserves of concentration and power for the task ahead, stared out over the Abbey to the Vale in the distance. She felt for the bear’s claw on its silver chain beneath her tunic and, extracting it through the neck of the garment, held it tight in her right hand.

     The waiting continued.

     Tiphaine returned first. She looked up at the Domina, who gave a nod, and then she held out to Joanna the wrapped object that she held in her hand.

     Joanna took it, slowly unfolding the soft leather until the object was laid bare. She lifted the stone up by the chain from which it hung and the Eye of Jerusalem blinked in the soft grey daylight.

     She felt the power surging inside it and the shock of it almost made her drop it. She took her eyes off the huge sapphire for an instant and looked at the Domina, who gave a brief nod. Then she returned her mind to the stone, giving herself up to it while it continued with the painful and quite lengthy task of revealing to Joanna just what it was and what it could do.

She had been in the trance state. When she came out of it, it was to find herself sitting on the grass leaning against an oak tree, the Eye of Jerusalem in her lap and Meggie standing anxiously beside her. Caliste had returned; she had brought two stone jugs full of water.

     ‘Now, Beith, do what you must do,’ commanded the Domina.

     This was the moment that Joanna had dreaded. Now that she had held the Eye and felt its incredible power, she was even more reluctant to let Meggie touch the precious thing. The Domina, of course, picked up her fear.

     ‘The child will be what she is born to be, as I have told you before,’ she intoned. ‘You cannot prevent this, Beith. Give her the Eye and show her what to do.’

     Joanna got up and then knelt down beside Meggie, the jars of water before them. She picked up the stone by its chain and said, trying to keep her voice level and to speak in her normal tones, ‘Hold the lovely stone, Meggie. Look! See how the blue jewel flashes as it catches the light?’

     But Meggie was no ordinary child, to be beguiled by a pretty plaything. Something in her blood recognised an object of power and at first she was afraid and drew back. Joanna said no more but merely knelt there slowly swinging the stone to and fro. And, in the end, curiosity overcame fear and Meggie took the chain from her mother’s hand and held aloft the Eye of Jerusalem.

     There was magic in the air. Tiphaine sensed it; Caliste, who had thought to have put all that behind her when she entered Hawkenlye, felt it too and shivered in dread. Lora squared her shoulders, almost as if she felt the forces swirling around as a physical assault.

     The Domina stood unmoving, watching.

     Joanna gently touched Meggie’s wrist, careful to avoid the Eye or its chain, and guided the child’s hand until it was right over the first jar of water. ‘Dip the stone into the water, Meggie,’ she said softly.

     There was a brief hesitation – the mere blink of an eye – and then Meggie obeyed.

     Tiphaine watched.

     At first nothing happened.

     Then a very faint wisp of steam, or perhaps smoke, rose up from the still surface of the water. The liquid went cloudy and, before Tiphaine’s bewitched eyes, pictures seemed to come and go within the milky swirls. Then the water cleared again.

     Meggie still held the Eye submerged in the water. Just as Tiphaine was starting to think that it was over, that whatever magic the jewel had worked was now complete, something else happened.

     The water began to shine.

     As if a minuscule fragment of a bright star had fallen into it – or perhaps was reflected in it – for the space of a few heartbeats the water emitted a brilliant light. It faded, quite slowly, but when it had gone the water had changed; it was purer, clearer and brighter.

     It will work, Tiphaine thought jubilantly. Whatever power is in the stone, whichever god has put it there for mankind’s use, it has had the right effect.

     The others were quietly rejoicing, too; nobody spoke, but then they did not need to. Joanna, a smile of pure relief on her face, was encouraging Meggie to dip the Eye into the second jug and, as the same miracle happened, Meggie began to laugh. Lora and the Domina stood a little apart; their eyes were fixed on Meggie and Lora made a quiet remark to the Domina, who suddenly smiled.

     Caliste looked as if she were in a dream.

     Tiphaine went over to her and gave her a hug; it was not something that nuns habitually did to one another but so unusual and strange were the circumstances that Caliste did not seem to notice. She returned the hug and Tiphaine discovered that the girl was trembling.

     ‘It’s all right, child,’ Tiphaine murmured. ‘It’s done. Now you and I will take the water down to the Vale infirmary and we shall see what we shall see when we try it out on those most in need of it.’

     Caliste raised her eyes to stare at Tiphaine. ‘It
will
work, won’t it?’

     ‘Oh, yes, it’ll work.’ Tiphaine gave her a last, bracing squeeze, then turned to bow to the Domina. And to Joanna, still sitting on the ground and looking dazed.

     ‘May we return with more water?’ Tiphaine asked her humbly.

     ‘Of course,’ Joanna replied. ‘We shall be here.’

     Tiphaine nodded. Then she and Caliste each picked up a jug and hurried off, as fast as they could without risking spilling any water, back to the Vale infirmary.

     As they strode along, Tiphaine was trying to work out how she would phrase her announcement; how she would tell senior nuns such as Sister Emanuel and, indeed, Sister Euphemia, who was expected back on duty later in the day, that somehow she had come upon a special type of sacred water that might just do the trick.

     That might, when all else had failed, bring the dying back from the brink. The dying who now included, and had done since that morning, the Abbess Helewise.

Chapter 19

It was not until quite late in the day that Josse finally realised just who was the latest victim of the foreign pestilence.

     He had been busy as Brother Erse’s temporary apprentice carpenter until well into the early afternoon – they’d had trouble fitting the top stanchion of the new handrail, there being nothing but virgin rock to which to fix it – and, by the time Josse was free to seek out the Abbess, he knew that she would already be on duty in the Vale infirmary. Although many nuns, monks and lay brothers were now on the nursing rosters and actively involved at close quarters with the sick, still the rule applied that nobody who was not nursing went anywhere near them. And it was thought that Josse, although he would have taken his turn if asked, was better engaged using his strength elsewhere.

     Such as the endless task of water-carrying, which resumed at full capacity once Brother Erse finally announced himself satisfied with his brand-new safety measures.

     As soon as Josse took the first load of full vessels over to the door of the infirmary ward, he realised that somebody important to the community was very ill. The faces of the nurses gave that away. And Sister Euphemia, back on duty after sleeping eighteen hours with only a couple of breaks to eat, could be heard from several paces away giving strings of orders to everybody working with her.