The Enchanter's Forest (44 page)

     Sandstone, and it was unworked. Yet the lining and the base of the tomb were surely granite, beautifully shaped with loving care.

     Something began to stir at the back of Josse’s mind.

     He leaned down into the grave. Half expecting a smell, he detected nothing but a slight earthy tang, by no means unpleasant. Laying the blanket within reach on the graveside, he edged his upper body down over the lip of the tomb and, eyes alert, looked very carefully all around the bones, trying to see if anything lay beneath them.

     With his head right down in the grave, he soon found what he was searching for.

     There was virtually nothing left of the leather bag except for its top, where the leather was doubled over to hold the drawstrings. But its contents had proved more durable and now they lay in a tidy little group beneath the skeleton’s right hip.

     Unable to tear his fascinated eyes away, Josse silently enumerated them.

     There was the clawed foot of some bird of prey: probably a kestrel, he thought. Next to this lay a knife made out of some metal that, during its long immersion in the ground, had acquired a greenish sheen; its handle was of bone and carved into the shape of a dragon. There was also a razor with a handle of stone, two small shells and a set of matching stones which, when Josse reached down and picked up a couple, had strange designs carved into them. There was also a collection of small animal bones and a large amber bead.

     He pulled himself back out of the tomb and knelt on the grass. Then, making himself act before the enchantment took over and he could no longer make such decisions for himself, he reached for his blanket and, with all the tender care of a father tucking up his child for the night, laid it across the skeleton and fixed it as well as he could so that every part, except for the ankles and the feet, was now hidden from view.

     The strange force that had filled the clearing seemed to fade a little, as if the respectful gesture had somehow diminished its potent anger.

     And Josse, sweating and gasping, collapsed on the grass.

He lay there for some time, listening to the natural and very welcome sounds of the forest reassert themselves. The birds sang, a light breeze rustled the leaves and from somewhere near at hand he thought he heard water running.

     He closed his eyes and some of the various anxieties that he had been carrying seemed to seep out of him, leaving him relaxed and drowsy. It was almost as if a soft voice was murmuring in his ear, saying
Sleep, sleep
  . . .

     He slept.

He was suddenly wide awake, disturbed by some faint sound that echoed through his head but that he could not identify. It had seemed to his dreaming mind that somebody had called his name, but that couldn’t be right.

     But then he heard it again.
Josse
.

     And, sitting bolt upright so fast that his head swam, he found himself staring up at the Domina.

     ‘What are you doing here?’ Her voice sounded cold.

     ‘I came to tell her that it’s over. The tomb is closed and I was going to try to find out where he found her – where her true resting place had been – so that I could return her there.’ He met the Domina’s secretive eyes. I have nothing to be either ashamed or afraid of, he told himself firmly. Standing up – he felt at even more of a disadvantage crouched at her feet – he added, ‘Only I now think I was wrong.’

     ‘About what?’

     ‘About thinking that Florian found the bones elsewhere and moved them here.’ He paused, watching her closely. ‘This woman has been here all along. Hasn’t she?’

     There was a long pause, and then very slowly the Domina nodded. ‘Yes.’

     ‘Who was she?’ he asked eagerly. ‘How—’

     But the Domina did not appear to hear, or, if she had, she chose to ignore his question. ‘The man Florian did indeed discover her grave,’ she said. ‘He came into the forest around the time of the spring equinox and he was in great distress, so severe that it was in his mind to make an end of his life and hang himself from one of the oak trees. He had been searching for buried treasure, having heard a rumour that coins had been found deep within the forest. He came across this clearing and noticed the hollow in its centre. He began to dig and instead of finding treasure, he found bones.’ She looked away, into the tomb. ‘A rib bone was detached and had been brought up near to the surface by some burrowing rodent. It was the end of this rib that Florian first found. Excited, for where there were bones there might also be valuable grave goods, he dug and he dug and he went on digging until he discovered that a whole skeleton lay buried here.’

     She sighed, sadly shaking her head.

     ‘And Florian’s instant thought,’ Josse said slowly, ‘was how he could turn his discovery to his own advantage. In his desperate need for money, he came up with the idea of pretending that they were Merlin’s bones – no doubt he, like everyone else, had heard about what the Glastonbury monks have done. Florian realised he could not claim that he had discovered the bones of King Arthur or his queen, since it’s said they lie at Glastonbury, and so he settled on Merlin.’ He shook his head. ‘Who would have ever dreamed that this skeleton is that of a woman?’

     ‘Your nun did,’ the Domina observed drily.

     ‘Aye, but then Sister Euphemia is vastly experienced in matters of the human body.’ A thought occurred to him and he voiced it. ‘You seem to know a lot about Florian’s discovery of the tomb. Why, if you were aware of him and what he was doing here, did you not stop him?’

     ‘Some of my people asked the same question,’ she replied. ‘Incensed as we all were by this sacrilegious intrusion into somewhere so close to our own sacred places, many of our young men wished to attack Florian and protect the site from further despoliation.’

     ‘He is dead,’ Josse said quietly.

     ‘I know. We are not responsible for his death.’

     ‘No, no. I didn’t think you were. He—’ But he realised that the Domina was not listening; the doings of Outworlders, he thought, had very little interest for her unless they conflicted with the lives of her people.

     He went back over what she had just been saying; there had been something there, something he wanted to ask her about . . . Yes. That was it.

     ‘Lady, you said that this clearing is close to one of your sacred places.’

     ‘The entire forest is sacred.’

     ‘Oh.’ The vague idea that he had been forming drifted apart. ‘Then – she – the woman in the grave – she is not one of the forest people?’

     The Domina’s eyes flashed to his and she said, ‘No. She was here in an age before we inhabited these woods.’

     There was only one question to ask. He whispered, ‘Who is she?’

     Again, the Domina appeared to consider her words before she spoke. Then she said, ‘She belonged to a people known as the Long Men, for they were a race of uncommon height and strength. Their territory was between the Downs and the forest and they guarded their precious valley fiercely. They were seers, magicians, and, although their numbers dwindled in the great fight against the invader from the south, enough of them survived to return to some sort of prominence after the incomers had gone. The Long Men enjoyed a brief resurgence and some of their number were appointed seeresses and cunning men of the ancient kings of Sussex. They were admired and feared, and with good reason for, in the long years of their presence here, their powers that stemmed from the very Earth had grown and extended.’

     ‘Where are they now?’ Josse asked, his voice an awed whisper.

     The Domina glanced at him. ‘Their blood still flows in the veins of their descendants, but in the later years they were few in number and driven to choose mates from outside the tribe.’ She gave a faint smile. ‘Some men whose antecedents were from this area still stand out by their height.’

     ‘A race of giants,’ he said slowly. ‘I always thought giants were only in the tales told to children by the fireside.’

     ‘Do not dismiss such tales,’ the Domina said, ‘for at their roots there is always a grain of truth.’

     He was shaking his head. ‘They lived between the Downs and the forest,’ he said, thinking back over what she had said, ‘and so this – this place that you said was sacred – marked the northern limit of their land.’

     ‘Yes.’

     ‘Was that why she lies buried here? Because she was one of their most powerful ones and she guards the frontier of the area that her people claimed as their own?’

     ‘It was their own. They had lived here since the dawn of time.’

     ‘Aye. But I’m right, aren’t I?’

     The Domina risked another smile and he thought he detected a flash of approval in it. ‘Yes, Josse. You are.’

     His mind racing now, he went on, ‘And on the Downs is there another such burial – perhaps of a man – that guards the southern border?’

     ‘Yes, there is. But that one is more easily found, although very few people nowadays know that the marker that indicates the place stands above a man’s body.’

     He knew all at once to what she referred, for he had seen it with his own eyes and stared at it in wonder. ‘You speak of the chalk giant,’ he said.

     ‘I do. The Long Man, do folk not call him?’

     And, with a laugh of delight, Josse said, ‘Aye, they do.’

     He looked down at the huge skeleton. I know who you are and why I felt such power from you, he addressed her silently. And I know too now that I need not take you anywhere because here is where you are meant to be and where you will stay. ‘Shall I fill in the grave?’ he asked the Domina.

     ‘There is no need,’ she replied – rather swiftly, he thought, as if she wanted to make quite sure he did not suddenly start doing so.

     ‘But we can’t leave the bones lying there with only my old blanket to frustrate prying eyes!’

     She made a pacifying gesture with her graceful hands. ‘Others will perform the task, with the appropriate rituals.’

     ‘People of your tribe?’

     She hesitated. ‘No, Josse. My people will not interfere, for the same reason that we prevented our own men from taking action to defend this place and this grave when first Florian intruded here. Those who will perform the necessary rite are
her
people.’

     He baulked at accepting what he believed the Domina meant. Was she saying that there were still people of this long-dead woman’s race who would appear out of the shadows and, praying and chanting, replace the earth over her? But no, that couldn’t be right. Could it?

     He stared at the Domina. With a moment’s compassion softening her face, she said, ‘You and Joanna almost lost your lives in the forest in Armorica.’

     So Joanna had told her. Unless, of course, the Domina had used her mysterious gifts and
seen
what had happened with her own inner eye. ‘Aye. It was an attack in the night and it was only because she – Joanna – sensed danger approach that we were on our guard and fought him off.’

     The Domina watched him steadily. ‘The assailant was not who you took him to be.’

     ‘Not – but it made perfect sense! Joanna’s brother-in-law said he’d make sure she didn’t escape again; we all heard him!’

     ‘Yes, I am sure that you did. But it was not he who tried to kill you.’

     Josse tried to think but his mind was in a whirl. The Domina, with a faint noise of exasperation, said, ‘What did you notice about the man?’

     ‘Very little,’ Josse said crossly. ‘It was dark and we were fighting for our lives.’

     ‘Did you gain no impression of him at all?’

     ‘He was very tall, and—’

   
Very tall
.

     Then he knew.

     ‘Yes, yes,’ the Domina breathed. ‘He is one of the few still alive of the old race and to him and his brethren falls the sacred duty of protecting the places that mark the northern and southern boundaries of his ancient race.’