Arcadia Read online

  *

  Antros and two others acted as scouts as they walked, while Rosalind and Pamarchon fell back, talking so intensely that they almost forgot where they were going. Several times Antros had to turn and gesture for them to be quiet, as their voices and laughter threatened discovery. Both were in a state of enchantment. They had never talked to each other properly before, not openly and honestly. They loved each other – the way their hearts fluttered demonstrated that – but did not know each other. For once Pamarchon, who had learned to be cautious and guarded, spoke freely in a way he could not do even with Antros. And Rosalind responded, no longer afraid of saying the wrong thing or of not being liked.

  ‘I wish this could go on for ever,’ she said. ‘Walking through the forest, just like this.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can arrange,’ he replied with a smile.

  ‘What do you do here? How do you live? There seem to be a lot of you in that camp.’

  ‘There’s about six hundred,’ Pamarchon said, ‘if you include the very young and the very old. Fewer than two hundred would be useful in a battle. As for living – we live. The forest provides much of what we need. There are farms around …’

  ‘You steal food?’

  ‘No. That’s what they say, but we do not. We buy it. In exchange for gold, or deer or boar, or even our work. We do not steal. I do not permit it.’

  ‘What sort of work?’

  ‘We hunt wolves, or protect from interlopers and thieves. We help in the fields sometimes, herd animals, hunt.’

  ‘You never steal?’

  ‘Only from people who have more than they need. Some have too little. We borrow, for a while.’

  ‘It’ll be The Wind in the Willows next,’ Rosalind muttered under her breath.

  ‘You must understand that we are all entitled to our plot of land. Others have taken it from us and make use of it. We take what would have been ours had we not been expelled. No more than that. When we get what is ours back, then we will be satisfied.’

  ‘Now, that is what I was going to ask. How do you plan to get it back?’

  ‘By agreement or by force. We will take it in the way that a good band of men with determination and weapons can take it, when no other possibilities are open to them. Willdon will either accept our claims or it will not.’

  ‘I don’t think Lady Catherine will just say – fair enough, I’ll leave.’

  ‘We will see.’

  ‘I assume that she also can call on men with weapons.’

  ‘She can call on the whole of Anterwold to come to her assistance. Many more people than we have.’

  Rosalind kicked some leaves as she considered this. ‘I don’t rate your chances then. I imagine that Willdon can be defended, and from my history lessons I always thought you needed more men if you are going to be the attacker.’

  ‘Whoever said anything about attacking Willdon?’

  ‘You did.’

  ‘I did not. That would involve many people, and many deaths. I can win my victory with only a handful of people. It is a question of daring and skill. That plan is already laid, although I will not need it if I win my case.’

  ‘Can you?’

  ‘I don’t know. Certainly not without an advocate, which I do not have yet.’

  ‘Where can you get one?’

  ‘That would be something you can do for me. Ask at Willdon. Get the best available, because without one there will be no point turning up.’

  *

  ‘We will stop here,’ Pamarchon said once night was falling and they could no longer see the path. ‘We are very close. In the morning, Rosalind and Antros will go on alone and I will return to the camp.’

  The two men decided that it was too risky to light a fire which might attract attention, so they ate from the packs they had brought with them. They ate quietly, finishing off everything except for the few morsels that Antros – always careful – insisted be put aside for the morning.

  ‘Now we sleep. It will be best to wake early and start quickly. Although if you would spare me a few moments …’

  He looked at Antros to hint that he should go to prepare the beds for them, to lay out the blankets, for they would be sleeping without tents or covering.

  ‘I am placing a great deal of trust in you, Rosalind. Am I right to do so? Not for me, you understand, but Antros is my best and closest friend.’

  ‘I plan to find Jay’s master, Henary. From what Jay says, he will have the authority to protect us both. Besides, I have a lot at stake as well.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You, of course. I lost my heart the moment I first saw you. You could ask anything of me and I would give it to you.’

  Pamarchon’s eyes searched hers.

  ‘I have watched you, Pamarchon. The way you treat your fellows, your captives. I have listened to the way you talk. I can find nothing bad in you. Will you swear that you are as you seem?’

  ‘I do. I am. Believe me.’

  ‘Then go and find your sleeping place. But remember, I know nothing, no matter how I appear. Everything I have told you is a lie, really.’

  He said no more, but rose, and she watched as he walked slowly off to a place that was private. Rosalind’s heart was beating hard. She scarcely believed what she was doing, or what she was thinking of. But she never, not for a moment, considered changing her mind. She felt as though she would burst with longing. ‘Please,’ she said to herself, or to anyone who might listen and help, though she spoke so quietly not even the moths could possibly hear. ‘Please let this be the right thing to do.’

  There was no guidance, no voice in her head telling her not to be so silly, that it was shameful what she wanted so badly. The thudding inside her chest just got worse, and her mind focused more and more on that need that was vague and clear at the same time.

  Legs trembling with fear, her whole body shaking with nerves, she resigned herself to her fate. She walked quietly over to where Pamarchon lay on the ground. He looked up at her and held out his hand.

  50

  Henary watched the search parties when they left; all, he noted, were men Gontal had brought with him. Few even knew what Catherine looked like, and none knew much about the forest. Neither Gontal nor the Chamberlain was mounting a serious hunt. They were not going to try to find her. They were going to make as sure as possible that they did not.

  But where was she? She was fully aware of the importance of a timely return. Something terrible must have happened, and if it had happened to her, then Jay also was somewhere in the vast forest, dead or injured. If he had breath in his body, he knew the boy would come back to him.

  There was nothing more he could do. He had bought her time, at a high price to himself. Now he had to wait and, while he was waiting, he might as well begin to construct his arguments. Win or lose, Gontal would lay a complaint against him. He had to have his arguments ready. He could start by reviewing the case of Pamarchon and the murdered Lord of Willdon to make sure that his interpretation of the criminal’s conviction was correct.

  He laboured hard until mid-morning, when a servant – one he trusted as utterly devoted to Catherine – approached him.

  ‘The Lady Rosalind. She has come back in the company of an outlaw. She is insistent that she must speak to you. We have not told Scholar Gontal of her appearance, but he will undoubtedly find out soon enough.’

  Henary stood up in a hurry.

  ‘Well done. Thank you. How is she?’

  ‘Dirty, scruffy and looking – I don’t know how to put it exactly.’

  ‘Try.’

  ‘Radiant.’

  Henary examined the man curiously, wondering about his peculiar choice of words.

  ‘In that case, take me to her immediately.’

  The servant led the way swiftly across the house, through little rooms that Henary had never visited before. The route made it less likely, so he said, that anyone would notice their passage.

  ‘She’s in here,’ he said whe
n they got to the door which led into the room where Henary had once shouted at Jay. He remembered, felt briefly guilty, and went in.

  Standing by the window looking out over the gardens was the slim, short figure of the girl. She did indeed look a mess. Her hair was all over the place; she was wearing men’s clothes and shoes but, as she smiled in recognition, Henary realised that the servant’s description was accurate. Radiant was a good word. More than that. In the few days since he had last seen her she had changed completely. Just the set of her body, the easier way she moved. She was more assured, more – what? Commanding, perhaps. Something about her reminded him of Catherine.

  The thought brought him back to reality.

  ‘Where is she? Where is Jay? Are they well? Are they safe?’ he asked the moment the door had shut.

  ‘I am well. I am safe, thank you for asking. Tell me, is it Mr Henary? Professor Henary? Scholar Henary?’

  ‘Just Henary,’ came the reply, ‘and I accept your rebuke, but I can see that you are alive and in rude health. Catherine and Jay, on the other hand …’

  ‘They are both fine, although when I last saw Lady Catherine she was very grumpy.’

  ‘Oh, thank goodness!’ he said, and collapsed heavily onto a stool. Then he held his head in his hands and breathed deeply, trying to hold back the sobs of relief so she wouldn’t notice. ‘You have relieved me of all the burdens of life,’ he said eventually. ‘Thank you, dear lady. A thousand times thank you.’

  ‘You are most welcome,’ she replied. ‘They have been in some considerable danger but at present are in none whatsoever. I have guaranteed their safety, and so no one will dare harm them.’

  ‘Then why are they not with you?’

  ‘Well, now,’ she said, ‘that is really quite a story. Do you want to hear it?’

  ‘Naturally.’

  ‘The long version or the short one?’

  ‘The long one, of course, but first tell me where they are, and why they are not here.’

  ‘They are both deep in the forest and are the captives of Pamarchon, chief of the forest dwellers.’

  ‘Oh, good heavens! You think they are not in danger? I’m surprised he hasn’t slit her throat already.’

  ‘That’s very judgemental of you. You’d better stop being so mean about him, considering.’

  ‘Considering what?’

  ‘As I say, it is a long story. She will be back tomorrow morning, so have no fear.’

  Henary paused. ‘I do fear. A great deal. Already the situation is dangerous.’

  ‘I know. Listen to what we have decided. But first, tell me your news.’

  So Henary began to explain how the lordship of Willdon had been declared vacant and been immediately claimed by Gontal, who had arrived very swiftly.

  ‘We knew all that, except for the last bit. This Gontal. He’s already here?’

  ‘Yes. I was suspicious for a moment. Alas, his story was true. He really was on the way elsewhere. Very bad luck indeed. He should have been immediately installed but I managed to delay it,’ Henary said gloomily, ‘by pointing out that the real heir is Pamarchon until his sentence is carried out. Gontal is calling an assembly to overturn my opinion. He is likely to succeed unless Catherine returns and offers herself as candidate. We have until tomorrow, at dusk.’

  Rosalind listened carefully to this, asking questions about details and events.

  ‘How complicated,’ she said, when Henary came to a stop.

  ‘Indeed. My argument was unusual and I was lucky to get away with it. I can find nothing else in the precedent books that will help. Now, why are you so calm when Catherine is in such danger?’

  ‘Because she is under the protection of a good man. Who is also to be my husband.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Pamarchon. So she is quite safe.’

  ‘The man is a murderer!’ Henary exclaimed. ‘How could you be so foolish?’

  ‘I don’t know about this place, but where I come from the normal thing is to offer congratulations when one announces one’s engagement,’ Rosalind said primly. ‘When’s the happy day? What do you want as a present? That sort of thing.’

  Henary tried hard to come up with something suitable but found nothing. Rosalind felt quite sorry for him.

  ‘As I understand it,’ she said, ‘everyone is worried Gontal will get Willdon and join it to the power of the scholars. Right?’

  ‘Everybody but Gontal is terrified of the prospect,’ Henary said. ‘However virtuous the man …’

  ‘Yes, yes. It is clear he must not have it. Even Pamarchon and Catherine agree on that. The trouble is that Pamarchon cannot have it because of his little difficulty with the law, and Catherine cannot because Pamarchon won’t let her leave until his name is cleared. Unless they stop squabbling, it will go to Gontal by default. So they have agreed to a retrial, or appeal, or something. Both will come to the Shrine of Esilio tomorrow and they seem convinced that somehow or other that will settle the matter.’

  ‘Whose idea was that?’

  ‘That was Jay’s. Everybody thought it was very clever of him.’

  Henary had been doing quite well up to that point, listening carefully and nodding respectfully. This last piece of information floored him completely, though. ‘Dearest heaven!’ he said. ‘That is extraordinary!’

  Rosalind was surprised and wanted to ask what he was getting so agitated about, but he suddenly held up his hand for silence, went to the door and glanced down the corridor.

  ‘We are about to be interrupted,’ he said. ‘Gontal is coming, with an entourage. He is playing the Lord already. He must have heard you’re here and undoubtedly wants to examine you. When you meet him you will see why I am worried about Willdon falling into his hands. Do you think you could put on a show for him?’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Seem grand beyond measure. Quote things he has never heard of. Unsettle him with the power and extent of your learning, rather as you do me.’

  ‘I unsettle you?’

  ‘Certainly you do.’

  Rosalind shook her head. ‘I will do what I can to help, of course. But I am hardly dressed properly for impressing people.’

  *

  As Henary predicted, Gontal made an entrance. Opening the door and walking through it was not good enough; rather two servants entered first, opened both sides of the double doors and stood until he had progressed through in silence. Then they walked backwards, closing the doors as they left and leaving him alone with Henary and Rosalind. He regarded her with curiosity and some suspicion. She responded with what she hoped was indifference.

  Gontal was short and fat; what little hair he had was lank and his face was red and shiny. He walked with short steps that gave an air of absurdity to his attempt at grandeur.

  ‘I have heard much about you in the past day, young lady,’ he said with an avuncular smile as he sat on a chair, ‘and it is a pleasure—’

  ‘I have heard nothing of you. Pray, introduce yourself in the proper fashion,’ Rosalind interrupted, raising a disdainful eyebrow, ‘and I do not recall that I gave you permission to sit.’

  With a fine mixture of surprise and annoyance, Gontal hesitated, then reluctantly levered himself up and spent the next few minutes going through the appropriate introductions.

  Rosalind inclined her head at the end. ‘I am pleased to see you are fat,’ she said absently, addressing the mirror on the wall. ‘For, as Caesar said, “Let me have men about me that are fat; sleek-headed men think too much: such men are dangerous.” You know your Shakespeare, of course? Act 1, scene 2?’

  ‘Certainly,’ he said quickly, ‘naturally I do.’

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘There are many who neither appreciate the beauty of his poetry nor yet the force of his morality. I look forward to a discussion with you at some stage. On Hamlet, perhaps, or Elvis.’

  ‘It will be a pleasure to have a conversation with a lady of so great knowledge,’ he replied nervously. ‘But I came simply
to welcome you to Willdon, and alas have no time for such discussions now. I do hope I can excuse myself, as I have a meeting I have to go to.’

  ‘Ah,’ she replied, wagging her finger at him disapprovingly. ‘You must never begin a sentence with “But”. It is a conjunction, don’t you know. As such, it must join two parts of a sentence. It cannot, therefore, start one, for if it does then it fails to fulfil its proper function. Nor should you say “I hope I can excuse myself”. You are asking my permission, not stating your capabilities. It should be “I hope I may be allowed”, employing “may” as an auxiliary verb, followed by an infinitive. Finally, you should never end a sentence or other statement with a participle. That is vulgar. You must say “I have a meeting to which I must go.” For, as Great-aunt Jessie said, “A place for everything, and everything in its place.” That applies to grammar as well as life. As you have legs, I imagine you can go and, as far as I am concerned, you may do so.’

  When the chastened Gontal had retreated through the door and the two were alone once more, there was a long silence before Henary said, ‘When I said unsettle him, I didn’t mean frighten him to death, poor fellow.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. I was talking nonsense. I’m sure I got that quote wrong too.’

  ‘Who are you, Rosalind? Where are you from?’

  Rosalind looked at him seriously. ‘It’s more where you are from that concerns me,’ she replied. ‘Let me try to explain. Jay says that you are the wisest man he has ever known, the most thoughtful, the most reasonable and the kindest. Catherine says the same.’

  ‘That is generous of them both, although the sort of thing one would expect from a student about his teacher.’

  ‘No. He really thinks it, and I know he’s right. So I will tell you a story which will knock your socks off.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’