Janna Mysteries 1 & 2 Bindup (3 page)

G
ODRIC
!
A GREAT
smile spread over Janna’s face as she recognised him. She was so happy to see him, she could have kissed him. But she had no chance to embarrass either herself or him, for he’d made straight for the fallen animal. He kicked it, and the boar shifted and tried to struggle to its feet.

‘Don’t!’ Janna reached out a hand to stop him. Although upset and hurting, she knew that the creature had acted only according to the rules of nature, obeying its instinct for survival. She shuddered as she looked down at the great hairy beast.

‘It’s a wild pig, not a relative.’ Godric leaned over the boar. His arm rose and, with a swift movement, he slit its throat. Blood spurted. Janna jerked back with a cry of horror.

Godric wiped his knife clean on a patch of moss, then sheathed it at his waist. ‘I had no true aim in the dark,’ he explained. ‘I had to see if I’d killed it or if it was still conscious. It was lucky I managed to strike it hard enough to stop its charge.’

‘You didn’t have to kill it!’

‘Yes, I did. It was ready to get up and go for us again. My knife would have been no defence against it at all.’

Speechless with shock, Janna could only nod in understanding.

‘Are you all right?’ Godric placed a steadying arm around her shoulders.

‘It knocked my breath from my body, but it didn’t hurt me.’ She leaned against him briefly, grateful for his warmth, his solid comfort. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You’ve saved my life tonight.’

‘What are you doing out in the forest so late?’ he asked.

‘Gathering strawberries.’ Janna touched the purse hanging from her belt. She’d fallen backwards. Hopefully the fruit hadn’t been crushed when she fell. ‘What about you? Why are you here?’

‘Unlike you, I have permission from both my lord Robert and the abbess to come into the forest.’ His laughing eyes belied his tone of reproof.

‘How so?’ Janna asked, intrigued that a common villein like Godric, tied as he was to the lord of Babestoche Manor, should be given the freedom to roam about in a royal hunting forest.

‘I’ve been leading lost souls.’ Seeing Janna’s frown of puzzlement, Godric grinned. ‘Today I escorted a group of pilgrims from Wiltune Abbey on their way to Glastingberie,’ he explained. ‘There’s an ancient road built by the Romans that crosses the full length of the forest from east to west, but it’s visible only to those who know that it’s there. If the forester is about some other business, I am often asked to lead travellers through the forest to save them from getting lost.’

‘How do you know about the Roman road?’ Janna asked curiously.

‘My forefathers were huntsmen here at the time of the Saxons. Their knowledge has been passed down from father to son, through many generations. So shall I pass on the knowledge to my sons, and I’ll show them too, when it’s time.’ Godric nodded to himself, confirming his intention.

‘So you acted as a guide today. What about tonight?’ Janna searched the surrounding forest for signs of the pilgrims, but could see no-one.

Godric laughed. ‘I’m still on my way home, should ill luck bring the forester my way.’

‘The knife is for your protection, of course.’ Janna indicated the sheath hanging from his belt.

‘Of course. He gestured around the forest. ‘I might meet outlaws, wolves, wild boar or even young damsels in need of protection.’

‘You might also have to protect yourself against a savage rabbit or two,’ Janna ventured.

Godric’s mouth twitched. ‘That’s certainly possible.’

He must have abandoned his catch to come to her rescue, Janna thought, feeling sorry that he’d lost his dinner on her account. She stared down at the beast that had so frightened her. Its legs were coated black with mud and dung, and so was its nose from a lifetime of rooting about for its food. It stank, and yet Janna couldn’t help feeling a pang of pity – and then fear as she realised the consequences of their night’s work.

‘What are we going to do with it?’ she asked, pointing at the dead boar.

‘I can think of several things.’ Godric licked his lips in hungry anticipation. ‘Collops of bacon. Chops. A leg roasted on a spit …’

‘Have you taken leave of your wits?’ Suddenly becoming conscious of the noise they were making and the need for secrecy, Janna lowered her voice as she continued. ‘The forester will be told you’ve been in Gravelinges today. You’d be caught with blood on your hands, and brought before the forest court. You could lose your hands, your eyes, possibly even your life! You know how harsh the laws are. Oh, Godric, I fear that I have put you in far more danger than I ever was.’

Godric frowned. ‘Then we’ll leave the body here for the creatures of the forest to pick the flesh off its bones,’ he said regretfully, after a moment’s reflection.

‘We can’t,’ Janna contradicted firmly. ‘If the forester comes this way and spies it, he’ll suspect you, he’ll make you the scapegoat. We have to bury the boar, Godric. We can’t trust the forest to keep our secret safe.’

‘I’d much rather eat it than bury it,’ Godric grumbled.

‘Eat it, and we could be burying you!’ Janna retorted.

Godric heaved a sigh, and bent to take hold of the beast’s front legs. He began to drag it towards an overgrown thicket. ‘I have only my knife to dig with,’ he said, looking over his shoulder at Janna. ‘We need to find a place where the soil is moist and the growth thick enough to hide the evidence.’

Janna nodded in understanding. Lifting her torch higher to cast a better light, she led Godric into the darkness under the trees.

She knelt beside him and helped him dig the grave, using a stout stick and her bare hands as tools. A silence fell between them as they concentrated on their task, yet Janna was acutely conscious of his presence beside her. She recalled her mother’s teasing words, and her cheeks burned. If Godric had taken a fancy to her, it would be true to say that she had also found him worth looking at. She stole a quick glance. How old was Godric? Seventeen, maybe eighteen. Not much older than her, anyway.

As she dug deeper into the earth, Janna’s thoughts went back to their first meeting only a few weeks ago. He had come, in a fright, for a cure for his mother. She was shaking with ague, he’d said. She could hardly breathe. He didn’t know what to do for her. Could someone please come at once?

Eadgyth had sent Janna to gather fresh herbs, and Godric had followed her out into their herb garden, looking as if he wasn’t quite sure where to plant his feet. Fearing for the delicate herbs, which were her responsibility, Janna bade him stand still and hold what she picked. Although he’d stayed where she’d put him, there was a contained restlessness about him that told her Godric was a man more used to action, and that he chafed at standing still. She was conscious that he watched her, and she tried to make sure he didn’t catch her looking at him. Yet he was pleasing to look at, being tall and well built, with the fair hair and blue eyes of the Saxons. She’d been disappointed when Eadgyth bade her stay home to keep an eye on a mixture she had simmering over the fire, rather than allowing Janna to accompany them to the sick woman’s cottage.

‘What do you know of Godric and his mother?’ she’d asked, when her mother returned home. Eadgyth had chuckled, not deceived by the casual question or the real focus of Janna’s interest.

‘They live over at Babestoche Manor,’ she said. ‘Godric owes his allegiance to Dame Alice and her lord.’

‘Not to the abbess?’ Janna was surprised. The Abbess of Wiltune owned vast tracts along the Nadder River, including the land their own cottage was on. Godric must have walked several miles across the downs to seek them out.

‘The manor’s lands adjoin those belonging to the abbess. Godric’s mother has told me about his position there, and his prospects. He sounds like a good and honourable man, Janna.’

‘He’s not married then?’

‘No. But his mother would be glad to see him take a wife.’ Janna wondered now if Eadgyth shared that ambition, and if she’d been left behind on purpose, so that her mother could check out Godric’s suitability as a husband. Yet Eadgyth often left her behind while she went out to minister to her patients. It was an old grudge, and the injustice of it angered Janna anew.

‘How is your mother?’ she asked Godric, thinking that she should make use of this time to get to know him while Eadgyth wasn’t around to interfere. ‘Is she quite recovered now?’

‘She is very well, I thank you.’ Godric paused for a moment and studied Janna. ‘It was a blessed day that brought me to your door.’

And what did that mean? Was he thankful for his mother’s cure, or was he glad of their meeting? Janna wanted to ask him, but was afraid where the question might lead. To a proposal of marriage? She smiled in the darkness, telling herself not to let her imagination run away with her.

‘This is not how I imagined our second meeting would be.’ Godric continued to dig while he elaborated on his earlier observation. ‘I had intended to ask your mother if I might call on you.’

‘Do you need more medication for your mother?’ Sudden panic prompted Janna to deliberately misunderstand Godric’s meaning. At once she wished she could retrieve her words. He’d already told her his mother was well. He’d think her a witless idiot.

Godric laughed. ‘I think you understand me well enough, Janna,’ he said cheerfully. To her relief, he straightened then, and said, ‘The hole is deep enough. Hold up the torch so that I can see what I’m doing.’

He grabbed hold of the boar. ‘What a waste of good meat,’ he said as he tugged and pushed it into the deep hole they’d dug. Suddenly hopeful, he whipped his knife out of its sheath. ‘Couldn’t I just slice off a little …?’

‘Don’t even think about it.’ Quickly, before he had time to put the thought into action, Janna scooped up a handful of earth and threw it over the animal. With a shrug of resignation, Godric sheathed his knife and set to helping her cover the boar.

Godric wanted to come calling on her! As Janna heaped earth over the dead animal, she reflected what that meant. Courtship. Marriage. No! Although she liked Godric – liked him a lot – she did not want to wed, not yet anyway.

True, she was of an age to marry. Other young women of her age in the hamlets nearby were either betrothed or wed. One was even expecting her first child, and wore the bump of her belly like a badge of honour.

Instinctively, Janna shrank from the knowledge of what had gone before to bring their love to such a conclusion. This was not for her. She was not yet ready to share her body or her life with someone else. There was still so much she wanted to experience for herself, so many new places she wanted to explore. She could not, would not plight her troth to Godric, nor to any other, nor keep a home and bear children at the price of her own freedom, and her own dreams for the future.

Yet what were those dreams, exactly?

Janna couldn’t say, knew only that at times she sensed that a world beyond the forest awaited her, a world full of promise for the future. At such times a great longing seized her, a longing for adventure, a longing to be gone. She and Eadgyth eked out an existence from their small plot of land, and knew hunger if the season went against them. It was a hard life, but they were free to leave, to go anywhere they wished, whereas Godric, like all villeins, was bound to a liege lord and had to spend his days in service on the land so that he might have enough food to eat, and sufficient left over to pay his dues. If she wed Godric, she too would be stuck here for ever. She would never know if there was something else out there, waiting for her.

Common sense told Janna she was nothing. A nobody. Her only identity came from being Eadgyth’s daughter, while her occupation, her reason for living, lay in tending their garden and animals, growing the vegetables which fed them, and the flowers and herbs for the concoctions that made up their livelihood. It was unlikely she’d ever go anywhere. In fact, she’d be lucky to find a husband at all, let alone someone as kind and as brave as Godric.

Lost in her thoughts as she was, Janna was startled when Godric straightened and wiped his muddy hands down his tunic. ‘Do you know where we are?’ she asked, as she clambered to her feet and took hold of the resin torch.

‘Of course. I told you, I know this forest.’ He plucked off a small leafy branch of hazel and swept it around the grave to hide all trace of their illicit activity, while Janna scattered armfuls of dead leaves on top, to further disguise the spot.

‘Stay close to me. I’ll look after you.’ Godric took Janna’s hand to guide her. He began to push his way through the trees. It seemed to Janna that they were setting off in the wrong direction, but she held her peace, trusting him. Fallen logs and hidden tree roots tripped her. Several times her feet sank into boggy patches, unseen traps under the nettles, dock and bracken that carpeted the forest floor. She would have fallen without Godric’s hand to steady her. Did he really know where he was going? He didn’t seem to be following a set path; in fact she was sure they had turned through at least one circle. Once or twice he stopped, bidding her shine the torch ahead. He was following the signs of his passage, she realised suddenly, recognising then the significance of bruised and trampled plants, a muddy footprint, broken twigs. At last he bent and picked up a dead hare. He slung it over his shoulders and took her hand once more, this time walking ahead in a straight, sure line.

Janna was pleased that saving her hadn’t interfered with his real night’s work. All the same, she felt uneasy. She should say something, just to have things clear between them. How could she let him know how she felt without hurting his feelings?

It’s not my fault I don’t want to marry yet, she thought crossly. Why can’t he court Gytha instead? Or Elfreda or Wulfrun? They would surely be pleased to have an offer of marriage from such a fine fellow!

The memory of her ordeal did little to add to Janna’s peace of mind as she trudged along. Her heart pumped faster and she broke into a clammy sweat as she relived the terror of the chase. She could have died tonight. Without Godric, all her fine dreams for the future would have counted for nothing. There was no getting around the fact that she owed him her life, and that she would always be in his debt. She hated that feeling of obligation, and what it might mean for her future. In fact, Janna felt thoroughly uncomfortable by the time they came to a part of the forest she recognised. She was not so very far from home after all.