The Enchanter's Forest (31 page)

     I will not let such a fate be Joanna’s, Josse told himself. Very tenderly, disturbing her as little as possible, he tucked both blankets around her prostrate body. He felt her bare feet – they were icy – then, as he began to rub them, called out softly to Meggie.

     ‘Sweetheart, come here,’ he said. ‘Mummy’s feet are cold and she needs them to be warmed up. Will you kneel here – just here, aye, that’s right – and put her feet very carefully in your lap? Aye, like that – very good. Now, put your hands around them and,
very, very gently
, rub some heat into them.’

     He knelt back and watched as his daughter did exactly as he had ordered. Then, satisfied, he gave her a smile, bent down and kissed the top of her head and then hurried away to see about building up the fire.

     Not long afterwards he was back by her side. Meggie had done her job well and now Joanna’s feet were far less chill to the touch. ‘Well done, Meggie,’ he said approvingly. In addition, the fire was now blazing and the warmth from its flames could be felt even from where the three of them were, some four or five paces away.

     ‘Hungwy,’ Meggie announced.

     ‘You’re hungry?’ She nodded. Of course you are, Josse thought, wondering if he could steel himself to leave Joanna’s side to prepare some food. What could he fetch that would take the least time? Their provisions were low but there were some strips of dried meat, the last of the flat bread and a couple of apples. Not much for a hungry child, but at least she could have all of it; Josse didn’t think he’d ever want to eat again.

     He leapt up, fetched the bag in which Joanna carried the victuals and was back again in an instant. He delved in the bag and, extracting some meat and a hand’s-span-sized piece of bread, gave them to Meggie. She chewed her way rapidly through the food, swallowed and said, ‘More.’

     From the grass Joanna’s voice said, ‘More,
please
.’

     And Josse, knowing better than to fling himself upon a possibly wounded woman, had to content himself with saying gently, ‘Joanna. Welcome back.’

As she struggled to sit up, telling the anxious Josse very firmly that there was nothing wrong with her but a headache and she would mix up some herbs and soon put
that
right, she felt something damp on her face and neck. She put up her hand and it came away coated with blood. Oh, Great Mother, I am wounded after all and, if it gives no pain, it must be deep and grievous indeed  . . .

     But Josse, eyes watching her every move, spoke quickly. ‘Joanna, it isn’t your blood – there is no wound to your head or neck except the bump on the back of your skull.’

     ‘Then what is—’ She broke off, for what she had just caught sight of had answered her question. ‘Josse, I must see to your arm.’

     ‘But—’

     ‘Now, Josse, for the cut slices deep and if it starts bleeding again, I may not be able to stop it.’

     She got to her feet, unable quite to prevent the wince as the pain from her head seared through her. He noticed that, too, and put out a hand to hold her back. But it seemed that his strength had suddenly left him, for even as he tried to grab her, he sank back on to the grass.

     She looked down at him, nodding. ‘Yes, dear Josse. Lie there until I have done what I can for you. Meggie – oh, Meggie, hello, dearest! Have some more to eat – yes, help yourself from the bag. Now,’ she added to herself, ‘what should I do first?’

     He had mended the fire, she noted, and she put a small amount of water on to boil. While it heated up she fetched her leather satchel and took out several small packets: comfrey, Lady’s Mantle, herb bennet, horsetail and lavender; styptics and an antiseptic with which to treat that gaping wound on Josse’s arm. Also, because she knew she would be a more efficient and observant healer without the thumping headache, she set out white willow and a tiny pinch of the dangerously poisonous but highly and swiftly efficacious monkshood for herself.

     As soon as the water began to steam she poured a little into the small wooden cup that she reserved only for healing and into which she had already put some drops of lavender oil. Then, returning to Josse, she gave the bowl and a clean piece of soft cloth to Meggie and told her to bathe away the blood.

     Josse looked up at her, horrified. ‘She’s only a child!’ he hissed. Looking down at the cut on his arm – it was, Joanna had to acknowledge, not a pretty sight – he added, ‘She shouldn’t have to do this!’

     ‘She’s a healer and in her own time she’s going to be a fine one,’ Joanna replied calmly. ‘Also, as you are about to find out, she has an exceptionally gentle touch.’ Then she went back to the fire.

     The water was now boiling and quickly she poured some on to the mix of analgesic herbs in her drinking cup, swirling the mixture round and round to make the plant substances release their power and to cool the water a little. Making a face at both the ghastly, bitter taste and the still-hot water, she swallowed it down. Then, knowing that it would soon bring relief and in the meantime trying to ignore the crashing pain in her skull, she set to work to prepare the mixture that would knit Josse’s flesh together and, with any luck, heal that awful cut without the need of stitches.

Some time later, her headache all but gone and Josse’s arm bound up in clean cloth – she had after all had to put in three stitches, an operation that Meggie had observed with keen interest and that Josse had borne with great courage, only crying out once – the three of them sat under the shade of the birch trees eating the small amount of food that Meggie had left in the bag.

     ‘Now, dear Josse,’ Joanna said when there was not even a crumb remaining, ‘tell me what happened this morning just before dawn.’

     She had been dying to ask ever since she had come round but, appreciating that there were more important things to do and that, moreover, there no longer seemed to be any imminent danger, she had reined in her curiosity and got on with what she (and, increasingly, Meggie) did best. But now that she had done all that she could, she had to know.

     Josse was gazing out over the forest and for a while did not answer.

     ‘Josse?’ she prompted.

     He turned to her and, smiling, reached for her hand with his unbandaged one. ‘I do realise,’ he said gently, ‘how much you must want to know. It’s just that I’m not sure how to tell you because I don’t know what
did
happen.’

     ‘Ah.’ She had an idea that she knew why this might be. To prompt him, she said, ‘We sensed that someone was out there, approaching the hillock, and—’

     ‘
You
sensed it,’ he corrected. Then, in a fervent whisper, ‘I’m still giving thanks for you and your weird abilities.’

     She squeezed his hand. ‘Me too. So, someone attacked us and we both leapt up and laid into them, you with your sword and dagger, me with my knife.’

     ‘You all but cut his ear off,’ Josse remarked.

     ‘Did I?’ She had but a vague memory of pouncing on their assailant’s back and wielding her blade. ‘Pity. I must be losing my touch because I was going for his throat. Then what happened?’

     ‘He flung you off and you fell flat on your back. I thought – hoped – you might only be winded but in any case I couldn’t do anything for you just then because—’

     She heard the apology in his voice. ‘Of course you couldn’t,’ she agreed calmly. ‘Your priority was to kill our attacker before he killed us.’

     He gave her a grateful smile. ‘You always were a very reasonable woman,’ he murmured. ‘Anyway, I chased off after him down the slope and away along some narrow and winding animal track and suddenly he stopped. When I caught up with him there was something, some
one
maybe, standing right in front of him.’

     ‘A man? An animal?’ She was now almost certain she was right.

     He shrugged, the deep frown betraying his confusion. ‘I don’t know. While I was in pursuit I thought I heard some very large animal running through the undergrowth, keeping pace with me. Then, when I saw that great shape of darkness rising up in front of the attacker, I – Joanna, it – he – was
huge
.’

     I was right, she thought jubilantly. I just
knew
he was out there – I sensed his presence. Oh, perhaps he’s been with us ever since Folle-Pensée! He must have picked up that we were in danger and he did not leave us until he had removed that danger.

     She had not a single regret over what had happened, for the man sent by Césaire had undoubtedly meant to kill her and probably Josse and maybe even Meggie – oh, Meggie! – too. Nevertheless, she who had seen her rescuer as both man and as bear knew how his very appearance could strike cold terror in the heart, even when he was in his benign aspect. In furious fighting mode, rising up to his full height on those incredibly powerful back legs, deadly claws extended to strike, he— But she stopped herself. It was too frightening even to think about.

     Trying to calm the thrill of excitement coursing through her, she said, ‘Did he kill the man?’

     ‘I’m not sure,’ Josse replied. ‘I think so. The starlight seemed to flash on a weapon of some sort – it was something I’ve never seen before, almost like a knife with multiple blades – and I caught an image of terrible violence, although the picture wasn’t clear in my mind and I’m at a loss to know what really happened.’ Slowly he shook his head. ‘The man who attacked us fell and I watched to see but he didn’t get up again. When I looked up the dark shape had vanished.’

     ‘Did you not check that the man was dead?’ she demanded; she had to know, had to be sure they were safe now.

     He looked at her and she could not read his expression. ‘No, Joanna. He was down and that was all that mattered. Me, I had other things to see to.’ There was a brief pause. Then: ‘I thought – I was terrified that you were dead.’

     She understood. Her moment of anxiety-induced anger vanished and she saw the scene from his perspective.

     Dear, loving, loyal Josse.

     She leaned against him, turning her head so that she could kiss the bare flesh at his throat. ‘Dearest Josse, I have a skull like a rock. It takes more than falling against a stone to kill me.’

     ‘Don’t say—’ he began.

     But it was enough; there was no need to say any more.

     She stopped him with a kiss.

Chapter 15

As the sun rose to its noon height, Josse insisted that he was well enough for them to get moving and proceed with their journey back to the coast. Joanna would have liked him to rest for the remainder of the day for she was afraid that, despite Meggie’s careful bathing, the wound was at risk of developing the hot, red inflammation that told of the onset of the often fatal infection in the flesh. As yet the area around his wound was cool to the touch. Perhaps he would be all right even if they did set off now, for he was strong and healthy and men such as he seemed, in her experience, to fight off deadly infections better than their weakling fellows.

     Besides, she herself had an urgent reason for moving on. Césaire wanted her dead badly enough to have set an assassin on her trail; having encountered the man, she knew that she was right in her assumption that Césaire would not do the deed himself but hire another to do it for him. But now, were he to become anxious as to what had happened to that assassin, he might very well despatch a second and she and Josse might not be so lucky again. If they left now they might make ten or a dozen miles before stopping for the night; very likely, more. And they surely could not be more than a couple of days from the coast, although for obvious reasons they could not now aim for Dinan but must turn north-westwards and take the longer road to one of the ports that lay further along the coast.

     Josse was one-handedly removing the horses’ hobbles, and Meggie was helping him. He would not, Joanna thought, be able to put on their saddles and bridles; since he really did seem determined to set off, she hastened to finish packing away their belongings and, after kicking out the last embers of the fire and throwing the circle of hearth stones back into the undergrowth, she shouldered her satchel and her pack and went to help him.

     Studying the sun’s position, she steered them to the west of the track that would lead out of the forest in the direction of Dinan. At first Josse did not notice; he must be suffering, she thought with a stab of empathetic pain, for normally he is acutely aware of direction. Eventually he said, almost apologetically, ‘Shouldn’t we turn slightly to the right if we’re heading for Dinan?’