Janna Mysteries 1 & 2 Bindup (32 page)

‘Why, then, did you leave Wales?’

Janna gulped. ‘I … er … my oldest brother has wed. He has taken the land and the cot for his own, so Edwin and I decided to seek a living in Winchestre. We are free born, sire,’ she added for good measure.

‘This isn’t Winchestre,’ Hugh commented dryly.

‘No. No, sire, it isn’t. But we have no money of our own so we are forced to find food and shelter along our way, which we repay with our own labour.’

‘Then I wish you both good fortune.’ Hugh paused a moment. ‘I’ve watched you and your brother. You are hard workers, and your skill as a healer is also welcome here. You may stay on my manor as long as you wish.’

‘Th … thank you, sire.’ Janna stepped away from Hugh and bowed her head, desperate for him to leave. To be so close and not tell him the truth was a torture to her. When she looked up again, he had returned to his place at the table but he watched her still, his face screwed up into a thoughtful frown. Knowing she must act, and quickly, Janna turned to a young girl standing nearby. She was Bertha’s young sister, Janna realised, and she was looking at Janna with a hopeful expression on her face. Without giving herself time to think, Janna grabbed the girl’s hand and led her into the throng of laughing, dancing villeins.

Just as she had no notion of music, so Janna didn’t know how to dance either. It didn’t seem to matter among all the noise and confusion, but still she tried to copy the actions of those around her, clapping her hands and stamping her feet in time to the beat. When the villeins linked arms or whirled their partners around by the waist, so did Janna, and when they formed into a long line and danced around the high table, so did Janna along with Bertha’s sister. She hoped Hugh was still watching. She hoped he was satisfied that she was who she claimed to be. But in truth, she thought, as she stole a quick glance at him, it was Gytha who held his attention now, for she held a plate of sweetmeats before him, tempting him both with the delicacies and with her eyes.

Janna looked quickly away and concentrated on following the pattern of the dance. She was just beginning to enjoy herself when a sudden shout sounded above the music. ‘Fire!’

At once there was pandemonium. Some began to scream, some froze to the spot with terror, while others pushed past and over them in a desperate effort to get through the door and down the stairs to safety. It took some time for the hall to clear and everyone to realise that the danger lay not in the manor house but outside in the fields.

One of the haystacks was alight. They could see the glow above the palisade of sharpened stakes that fenced the manor house and yard. Cold dread gripped Janna as she listened to new cries of alarm. If the fire moved on and destroyed the other haystacks, the winter fodder would be burned and the animals would starve. Yet everyone milled around, waiting to be told what to do until Hugh shouted out above the hubbub: ‘Follow me to the stream!’ He raced ahead through the gate, and everyone fell into line behind him.

Janna saw that Hugh had already left instructions with Serlo for he, along with a group of his own, ran towards the shed where all the farming implements were housed. Undecided how best to help, Janna followed the crowd through the gate and up into the field, then stopped to watch. In the light from the flames, she saw that Hugh was now dividing the villeins into two groups, sending some towards the small stream that ran down into the river, and beckoning others to follow him to the flaming haystack. As Serlo and his helpers raced to the stream with leather buckets from the shed, the villeins began to form into a long line, making a chain that led from stream to haystack. At once they began to fill the buckets and pass them from hand to hand up the line. Serlo stayed by the stream to keep the buckets moving, while Hugh took up station beside the haystack to direct the flow of water onto where the flames were fiercest.

Once the contents were thrown, the buckets were thrust at a knot of children waiting nearby. They took turns to race back with the empty buckets to the stream to be refilled. Janna noticed Urk among them, carrying two buckets at a time and racing faster than anyone. Had he been in the hall with everyone else before the haystack caught alight? She couldn’t be sure. All her attention had been on Hugh, and then on her dancing partner as she tried to convince Hugh that she was a youth. It was certain that Urk was on the spot now, and doing all he could to help put out the fire – but had he set it in the first place? It seemed unlikely, when he was making such an effort to help now.

Janna looked about. Was anyone missing? Who else might have fired the haystack? She had little doubt that this was no accident, but she was greatly fearful that Urk would be blamed for it. After all, he’d set fire to hay once before. Serlo would surely believe he might do so again.

She stepped closer to scrutinise the chain more carefully. Hugh was beside the burning haystack, his face illuminated in the blaze as he directed the villeins to throw the water where it would be most effective. Serlo was still beside the stream, keeping a watchful eye on the buckets moving up the chain, and also on the children, making sure they ran back to the haystack once they’d handed over the empty buckets to be filled. There was order amid the panic, for everyone knew how vital it was to keep the fire from spreading. Janna’s glance narrowed as she tallied off the line of peasants labouring to pass along the heavy buckets without their precious contents being spilled. There was no sign of Edwin. Where was he?

She moved along the line to look for him.

‘You! John! Get into the stream and help fill those buckets!’ Serlo had seen her, and Janna knew that to disobey would invite his wrath as well as his suspicion. She hastened to do as she was told.

There was barely enough light from the flickering flames to make out the identity of her companions. But Edwin was not here, she was sure of it. She bent to her task, grabbing buckets from the children, sweeping them through the water to fill them, then heaving them up and into a pair of waiting arms. It was back-breaking work, but Janna had been toughened from her weeks in the fields and she knew she felt the strain less than the women who worked beside her. But they carried on without complaint, desperate to save the fodder that would keep their animals alive through winter, with meat on the table for themselves and their families.

‘Give me a bucket.’ She heard Edwin’s voice beside her, and turned on him with a mixture of relief and fury.

‘Where have you been?’ she hissed.

He hung his head. She thought he looked guilty, and feared the worst. ‘What’s going on?’ She grabbed his arm. ‘Did you set fire to the haystack?’

‘Of course not.’ He wrenched his arm away. He didn’t look at Janna but leaned over to fill a bucket as he said, ‘I came to help as soon as I realised what was happening.’

‘I hope no-one else noticed your absence! Don’t you see, Edwin, we are the last to come here so we must be the first they will blame when they come to realise that these are not accidents but deliberate attempts to do harm.’

‘Don’t be silly! This was an accident, surely.’ Edwin handed over a brimming bucket and grabbed another from a waiting child.

‘How could it be an accident? Why would a haystack suddenly catch fire in the middle of the night?’

‘Sometimes they overheat, especially if the grass is still green. It happens.’

It was true. Janna hadn’t thought of that, but in her heart she was sure it hadn’t happened that way. ‘What about the dead lamb?’ she asked. ‘That wasn’t an accident.’

‘A fox? A wolf?’

Janna shook her head. ‘A wild animal would have eaten the lamb, not killed it and left it for someone to find. Besides, its wounds were made by a knife, not teeth.’

‘Yea, ’tis true.’ Edwin’s forehead creased into a frown as he thought about it.

‘And the cows that got out and the fox that got in. And Hugh’s lame horse. Do you really think all those things were accidents?’

‘What happened to the horse?’ Conscious that Serlo prowled about, watching them, watching everyone, Edwin hastily dipped his bucket into the stream.

His frown deepened as Janna told him what she’d seen and found at the stable. ‘These things have all happened since my lord Hugh returned to the manor,’ he interrupted her recital. ‘It seems he’s not as good at managing the farm as his reeve.’

So Mistress Tova was still spreading her poison. This time Janna was determined to defend Hugh. ‘That’s not true. You can’t blame my lord for any of this.’

‘I’m only saying what everyone says.’

Janna shook her head. ‘These are not accidents, they’re deliberate actions by someone wanting to cause harm,’ she insisted.

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘The posies of rue left behind at the scene.’

‘Rue?’

‘For regret. That’s what the old ones say, anyway. I wondered at first if the rogue felt regret for his actions after he’d done the deeds, but now I’m not so sure.’ Without meaning to, Janna looked for and found Urk. He was coming their way, a bucket dangling from each fist. In spite of the gravity of the situation, his face creased into its customary cheerful smile as he thrust the buckets at Janna and Edwin.

‘He looks happy enough. Maybe it’s him,’ Edwin commented.

‘No, it isn’t.’ But Janna wasn’t as sure as she sounded. ‘I wondered if it might be you,’ she said, deciding to voice her concerns.

‘Me?’ Edwin looked astonished. ‘Why would I do something like this?’ He gestured towards the haystack. ‘What have I got to gain?’

The flames were dying at last. Smoke and the stink of wet, burnt hay tainted the air. Janna sighed with relief that the danger was past. ‘I don’t know. I just don’t know anything,’ she confessed.

H
ER WORRIES KEPT
Janna wakeful and restless during the night. Her eyes felt puffy and pricked with tiredness when she finally rolled off her pallet and made herself ready to face Hugh. She was sure that she could smell herself, and she longed for a wash, but there was no privacy to be found unless she left the manor farm – and that she couldn’t do, not without Serlo’s permission. She certainly could not sneak out at night and plunge into the river, for if anyone saw her undressed they would know the truth. So she sighed, and wet her fingers and tried to smooth the singed stubble that covered her head, which was all she could do to make herself presentable. With a catch of alarm, she realised that her hair was growing long again. She patted the knife in its sheath. She must ask Edwin to cut her hair this very night.

With bread and ale consumed, she left Edwin to wait for the cook to assemble their dinner, and to chat to the serving maids while he waited, for he had become a great favourite in the kitchen. Her heart beat hard in fear and excitement as she first gathered soapwort, marsh mallow leaves and woundwort from the kitchen garden, then walked towards the stables clutching her bouquet of herbs.

There was no sign of Hugh, or anyone else other than a young boy. Janna frowned as she looked more closely. The youth was leading a small herd of nanny goats and their young through the yard towards the gate. Even as Janna watched, the boy raised his arm and aimed a pebble at one of the kids. It hit the goat on the rump and it jumped, bleating pitifully as it did so.

‘Stop that!’ Janna shouted. The boy hardly glanced at her before picking up another, larger stone. This time he aimed for the goat’s head. The animal dropped, stunned, and lay in the dirt, kicking feebly.

Without thought, Janna raced towards the boy. Before he could run away, she had caught him, and she boxed his ears hard, packing all her new-found strength into the punch.

‘Ow!’ he shouted, wriggling and squirming in Janna’s grasp. ‘Let me go!’

‘How dare you!’ she panted. ‘How dare you harm that little goat!’

‘It’s for our dinner.’ The boy had turned sullen now. ‘First finders of a dead animal gets to keep it, so Master Serlo says.’

‘I’ll wager Master Serlo doesn’t say you can go out and kill it first!’ Janna kept hold of the lad. She gave him a hard shake.

‘There’s no-one here to see me, ’cept you. Why should you care? Everyone does it.’

Somehow, Janna doubted it, but she wasn’t prepared to debate the point with the lad. ‘Then I’ll tell Master Serlo what you’ve done. If everyone is doing it, he won’t mind, will he?’

She felt the boy cower against her. He began to tremble with fright. Janna understood why when Hugh’s cool voice interrupted them. ‘What’s happening here, boy? Why are you throwing stones at my goats?’

Janna let the child go. She stayed silent, leaving him to talk his way out of the situation as best he could. All bravado gone, he began to cry.

‘Take the goats out and look after them properly, Eadwig,’ Hugh said sternly. ‘Be sure I will count them when you bring them in tonight. When you get home, tell your father he’s to come to the manor house and bring you with him.’

The lad fled, leaving Janna alone with Hugh. She knelt to pick up the herbs she’d dropped when she’d grabbed hold of the goat’s tormentor, feeling some relief as she watched the kid rise to its feet and stagger off to find its mother.

‘I saw everything that happened,’ Hugh said into the silence. ‘I was waiting just inside the stable. I heard you shouting at Eadwig. I saw it all, Johanna.’

Janna froze.

‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ Hugh continued softly. ‘Your appearance might have changed, but your voice – and your manner – not at all!’

Janna stayed on her knees, not daring to move or say anything. Hugh put his hand underneath her elbow, and yanked her upright. ‘I think you owe me an explanation,’ he said, and began to propel her towards the stables. ‘You can minister to Arrow while you tell me why you burnt your home to the ground and left us all to think that you were dead.’

‘I did not burn my home, sire!’ Janna was outraged that he could think such a thing.

He cocked his head to one side, studying her. ‘The abbess is wrath, for the cottage was her property and now it is destroyed. And Godric, the villein, has told us that you died in the fire and that he has buried you in the forest. Why so many lies, Johanna, and to what purpose?’ His voice lost some of its hard edge as he continued more softly, ‘Was the fire an accident? You know, because I told you, that Dame Alice agreed to pay heriot to the abbess and mortuary to the priest after the death of your mother. If the fire was an accident, I doubt the abbess would hold you to blame, while the villagers would surely have helped you to rebuild your cottage and given you shelter until that was done. There was no need to flee, or to tell such lies.’

How little you know of the villagers, Janna thought, as bitter memories swelled up in her mind. She did not know what to say to Hugh, and so she stayed silent.

‘In truth, I am disappointed,’ he said then, as he snicked open the latch and led her into the stable. ‘I had thought you more honourable, more courageous. I didn’t take you for a coward, Johanna.’

‘I am not a coward, sire!’ Janna could stay silent no longer.

‘And yet you have run from the village, and even disguised yourself as a boy to escape detection.’ Hugh stalked on past a line of horses and stopped at Arrow’s stall. The destrier blew a gentle greeting as Janna entered. She wondered if he remembered her. She stood awkwardly, uncertain how to make the horse lift his hoof so that she could inspect it. Hugh solved the problem by doing it for her. Janna clicked her tongue, distressed by the ugly wound which already was beginning to fester from the dung and dirt which had worked its way into the cut.

‘I need boiling water and something to wrap the hoof,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to cleanse it first. Then I’ll bind these healing herbs against the wound. You must not ride him, sire, or even take him from the stall.’ She glanced down at the mud and dung on which the horse stood. ‘It would be best if the horse stood on clean rushes for the while,’ she added.

Hugh grunted. But he released the horse’s hoof, and shouted for a stable lad to fetch what Janna needed. While they waited, he fixed his dark gaze on her once more. ‘Who is Edwin? What is he to you?’ he asked now.

‘He’s …’ Janna was going to claim him still as her brother, but she was sure Hugh would not believe her. She decided to stick as close to the truth as she could. ‘I came across him in the forest, sire, in Gravelinges. I was alone, and frightened, and he took care of me. It is true that he comes from Wales and that he has to seek his fortune after his eldest brother inherited both cot and land when his mother died.’ Janna kept her fingers crossed behind her back against yet another lie. She hoped Hugh would not doubt her word as she added, ‘Please believe me, sire. I did not set fire to the cottage. That was the work of the villagers, and that is why Godric seeks to protect me now.’

‘The villagers burnt your home?’ Hugh sounded horrified. ‘Why would they do such a thing?’

‘Because …’ But even Janna’s quick wits could not come up with a convincing enough story, other than telling Hugh the truth: that her mother had drunk the poisoned wine that Robert had given to Cecily, and that he knew Janna had found out his secret, which was why he’d incited the villagers to take action against her. She was sure Hugh would not believe it of his uncle-by-marriage, and so she stayed silent.

‘I am sorry you did not bring your troubles to my aunt,’ Hugh said, when it became clear that Janna would say no more. ‘Dame Alice would have helped you, I am sure of it. She had great respect for your mother’s skill, and yours too.’

‘I am sorry too, sire,’ Janna said softly. ‘I was alone and frightened. With no home and no family, it seemed best for me to run away, and so I did.’

‘You are safe now.’ Hugh gave her a troubled glance. ‘There is no need to disguise yourself any longer, Johanna. You could stay here and help Mistress Tova in the kitchen. I know she would be glad of an extra hand. And heaven knows we often have need of a healer for burns, and broken bones, and the pox if it comes again. You could be very useful to me, if you wish to stay.’

‘I thank you for your offer, sire. Of course I am happy to help anyone in need of a healer, but I wish to stay as I am – at least as others think I am,’ Janna said stiffly. She wanted to tell Hugh he was wrong; that she was no longer safe now that he knew her true identity. More than ever, she and Edwin needed to flee to Winchestre. She must talk to Edwin; they must leave that very night.

‘You have nothing to fear from showing yourself as you truly are.’ Hugh looked more puzzled than ever. ‘In truth, your disguise does not become you.’

Janna felt a painful blush stain her face as she recalled how he’d once looked at her with admiration in his eyes. No more, not ever again. The thought stung. ‘I beg you, sire.’ She forced herself to look into his eyes, so he could see that she was in earnest. ‘Do not allow anyone to punish the villein, Godric, for his lies. He told them for my protection, just as I would ask you, sire, to keep the truth about me to yourself. I … I cannot explain to you why my life is in jeopardy, but I beg you to believe it, and keep my secret now if … if you care about my safety.’

Hugh stayed silent, still looking troubled.

‘Please, sire!’ In her desperation to secure his silence, Janna realised she’d grabbed hold of Hugh’s arm. Quickly, she released it. ‘Please, sire,’ she said more quietly. ‘I matter to no-one other than those who wish me harm. Please protect me with your silence.’

‘Very well.’ The promise was given grudgingly. It was clear Hugh was unhappy about the course Janna had urged on him. ‘I know that the priest stirred up trouble against your mother, and that he might have influenced some of the villagers because of his refusal to bury her in consecrated ground,’ he conceded. ‘I have spoken to Dame Alice about the priest but she will not take action against him.’ He stopped, and gnawed on his bottom lip. He seemed to be wondering how far he could take Janna into his confidence.

‘You must understand that this is a difficult situation,’ he said then. ‘My aunt … married unwisely. Robert was her father’s steward, and after her father died he wooed Alice. Being her father’s only heir, and with all that property at her disposal, Alice was supposed to petition the king for permission to marry, but she was desperate to have Robert and no other. With a baby on the way, it became urgent to find someone who was prepared to wed them. This priest …’ He broke off as the stable lad came clattering in, bearing a bucket of hot water and the bandage Janna had requested. But Hugh had said enough for Janna to understand the situation. Anger flamed anew as she reflected how worthless was the dame’s husband. First, and to secure his future, he had seduced Dame Alice. Next, and for his own pleasure, he had seduced Cecily, the dame’s tiring woman. Janna wondered how many others Robert had seduced – and abandoned – during his marriage.

‘I want you to know that I petitioned the Abbess of Wiltune for a requiem mass to be said for your mother’s soul, and for your own,’ Hugh said now. ‘I have to say that she was reluctant at first. It seems she knows something of your mother’s past, but I managed to convince her of your worth, and so it was done.’ Hugh surveyed Janna, his face grave as he added: ‘Obviously a mass for the dead was not necessary on your account. I can only hope that you walk in the grace of God’s blessing, and that you will continue to do so.’

‘Yes, oh yes, sire, and thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for your kindness.’ So he had kept his promise to her! Janna felt almost giddy with relief.

‘Hmph.’ Hugh looked as if he needed convincing that he’d done the right thing. ‘And what are your plans for the future?’

To go in search of my father, Janna thought. But she wasn’t prepared to take Hugh so fully into her confidence. ‘To go to Winchestre, sire, to seek employment there.’ It was part of the truth.

‘With Edwin?’

‘With Edwin.’ Janna nodded confirmation.

‘Why don’t the two of you stay on here? I’ve already told you your worth to me, and Edwin is a good worker.’

‘Thank you, sire. You are very kind.’ Janna had no intention of accepting his invitation, but she wasn’t going to tell Hugh that she was proposing to run away that very night. Instead, she set to work, crushing the waxy green leaves of soapwort into hot water before bathing the wound. Hugh and the stable lad kept tight hold of the destrier so that it would not move, or kick out at Janna while she worked. She was grateful for the lad’s presence, for it made further conversation difficult. Hugh had already given her much to think about, but she needed a quiet time alone to mull over what he had told her. For the moment, she concentrated on her task, feeling the great horse flinch as she set about binding its hoof, wrapping the hank of unspun wool tight to keep the healing herbs in place, and also to prevent any more dirt from entering the wound.

‘Clean out this stall,’ Hugh ordered, once Janna was finished and the horse was standing firmly on its feet once more. ‘Then go and cut some clean rushes to lay on the ground.’ As Janna made to do what she was bid, Hugh grasped her arm. ‘Not you,’ he said, angling his head towards the lad. ‘Him.’

‘I am capable of doing the work just as well, my lord, and it will go quicker with two of us.’

Janna felt a queer thrill in defying Hugh, and knew a moment’s deep satisfaction when he said, with a smile quirking his mouth, ‘I can see you haven’t changed anything other than your clothes. You are still as independent as you were when you lived with your mother. Very well, then. Do as you wish.’

‘Thank you, sire.’ With difficulty, Janna kept a smirk of triumph off her face as she seized a besom and began to sweep the dung and dirt into a pile. When she next looked up, Hugh’s silhouette blocked the light from the door; the next moment he had disappeared from view.

The stable lad didn’t look at her as they worked together to clear Arrow’s stall. Janna wondered how much of her conversation with Hugh he had heard. At least enough to let him know that Hugh regarded her so highly he’d arranged a mass to be said for her soul. Had Hugh said her name in his hearing? Janna cast her mind back over their conversation. No. With luck, the boy still thought of her as John. Perhaps he didn’t trust her now. If so, she couldn’t think of anything to say to make matters right, and so they filled and dumped their bucket loads in silence.