The Paths of the Air by Alys Clare Read Free Book Online Page A

who sought him have found him.’ She sighed. ‘Is there any more to be gained from further study of the body?’
    Josse met the infirmarer’s eyes. ‘Sister Euphemia? Have you completed your inspection?’
    â€˜I have,’ she confirmed. ‘He was a man in his late twenties or early thirties, tall and broad and very well-muscled. I would say that he was a fighting man.’
    â€˜Aye,’ Josse agreed.
    â€˜His feet and legs in particular are powerful,’ the infirmarer continued, ‘suggesting that he did a great deal of walking. His skin is darker in tone than is common among us, indicating that he comes from a foreign land. His eyes are dark brown and his hair black. He suffered multiple wounds before his throat was cut.’ She looked quickly at the Abbess, then her eyes returned to Josse. ‘It wasn’t an easy death or a quick one.’
    â€˜Thank you, Sister,’ the Abbess murmured. ‘Sir Josse? Have you anything to add?’
    Mentally Josse ran through the many wounds on the body. The horror of the man’s death prevented him thinking about anything else, but he knew he must force his brain to work. ‘I am trying to recall anything I observed of my visitor that might help us to determine whether or not this is his body,’ he said. ‘But I have not come up with anything. John Damianos was most scrupulous in keeping his head and face covered and I just don’t know . . .’
    There was a short silence. Then the Abbess said, ‘Will further contemplation of this poor, ruined man help you?’
    He realized belatedly what she was asking him. ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘I am attempting the impossible, for I am trying to compare something I can see with something that was carefully kept from my eyes. The sooner we put this man in his grave’ – and out of our sight, he might have added – ‘the better.’
    She nodded. ‘Very well. Sister Euphemia, if you will prepare the corpse, it shall be taken to the crypt to await burial.’ She was still staring down at the dead man, her eyes wide and dazed, and Josse could see that it was with some effort that finally she tore her gaze away.
    She turned and strode out of the recess. Josse, with a quick smile to Sister Euphemia and Sister Caliste, hurried after her.
    Helewise wanted more than anything to escape to her private room, close the door and bring herself under control. The dead body had disturbed her far more than she had let on and as she walked swiftly across the frost-hard ground, after-images of horror floated in front of her eyes. As she reached the cloister she was aware of someone hurrying after her – Josse, for sure – and, biting down her impatience, she turned.
    It was not Josse; he was standing in the arched doorway to the infirmary, staring after her with a faint frown on his face. It was old Brother Firmin.
    She forced a smile. ‘Brother Firmin, good day.’
    â€˜I am sorry to detain you when I know you must yearn for a moment to yourself,’ he began – oh, dear Lord, she thought, how fast news travels in this community! – ‘but I fear I must tell you. It’s not only the other brethren and me – Sister Ursel and Sister Martha were asked too, and so were two of the refectory nuns, and I am told they were also seen outside the infirmary so they must have pursued their enquiries with the nursing sisters, and I – that is, we – just thought you ought to know , my lady.’
    His honest eyes in the deeply creased old face were looking up at her anxiously and her irritation vanished as swiftly as it had come. ‘Of course, Brother Firmin,’ she said kindly. Taking his hand and tucking it under her arm, she added, ‘Come along to my room, where we shall be out of the draught, and you shall tell me what it is that troubles you.’
    â€˜But—’
    They had reached her door