The Rose of the World by Alys Clare Page B

Meggie since yesterday, although I do not for a moment think that, strong as she is, she could have inflicted those punches on the dead man’s face. Who else is missing?’
    They all looked round. On every face but Gus’s, puzzlement slowly gave way to realization, and then to deep dismay.
    Geoffroi whispered, ‘Oh, no!’
    Josse hugged him tightly. ‘We do not know for sure, son,’ he said. ‘But I fear we must prepare ourselves to face the possibility that the man who fought the dead man is the one person who ought to be here and isn’t. Who, if I’m right, none of us has seen since the evening we discovered that Rosamund was missing.’
    He looked round at them all. In case anybody was still in doubt, he told them. Softly, he uttered the name: ‘Ninian.’

SIX
    G ervase had almost run through the list of people he was summoning to the Hawkenlye infirmary to see if they knew the identity of the dead man. None of the nuns recognized him, and Gervase had no more success with the monks from the vale. Brother Saul had helpfully brought a party of visiting pilgrims with him but, to a man, they had briefly gazed at the dead man’s face and mutely shaken their heads.
    The parties out searching for Rosamund were regularly reporting back to Gervase – and the long succession of: ‘Nothing yet, sir,’ was becoming extremely frustrating and very worrying – and he had paraded each and every one of his men past the body. Nobody recognized him.
    The victim was a man of some means; that was evident by his clothing and the fine leather of his boots. Studying him now, Gervase looked at the hands. They were well shaped, reasonably clean and nicely kept. The dead man was no peasant dressed up in stolen garments. Gervase looked at the neatly-cut hair. That, too, indicated a man with the money and the time to look after himself.
    Who are you? Gervase asked him silently. What were you doing out there by the river? Did you abduct the missing girl? If so, who fought you, killed you and took her from you? Where were you taking her? Where has he gone with her?
    So many questions. So many uncertainties. Suppressing the urge to punch something, Gervase left the recess and strode out of the infirmary.
    He decided to ride down to Tonbridge to see if his deputy had anything to report. The day was drawing on towards evening, and the light was fading fast. He wanted to speak to his deputy before it became too dark to search and everyone went home for the night. Another day had passed, he reflected anxiously, and Rosamund was still missing. And, always lurking behind all his pressing preoccupations, there was that other matter; he must not leave it too long before making the journey out to the House in the Woods to inspect Josse’s valuables . . .
    He was entering the abbey’s stable block when he heard the sound of hooves. Turning, he saw Leofgar Warin riding towards him.
    â€˜What news?’ Gervase demanded.
    Leofgar held up a hand. ‘None. I am sorry, that is not why I have sought you.’
    Gervase felt himself sag. Just for a moment, he had hoped . . . He looked up at Leofgar and said, more sharply than he had intended, ‘Why are you here, then?’
    Leofgar’s expression suggested that he understood Gervase’s mood. ‘I have to go home,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, I wish with all my heart that I could get out there again now, sleep here tonight and return to the search in the morning. She’s my niece, and I cannot imagine what my brother and Paradisa are going through. But I cannot stay. I have pressing concerns of my own.’
    â€˜What’s more important than a missing child?’ The question burst out of Gervase before he could stop it. ‘I apologize,’ he said instantly. ‘I have no right to question your movements.’
    â€˜No, you haven’t,’ Leofgar agreed, with the ghost of a