Janna Mysteries 1 & 2 Bindup (33 page)

The lad went over to a row of implements then, and selected two scythes. He gave one to Janna. ‘To cut the rushes,’ he said shortly, and led the way out, heading down towards the river.

Looking up at the fields, Janna noticed the blackened remains of the burnt haystack. With a feeling of dread, she realised what she must do. ‘Let’s cut the rushes at the stream,’ she said, pointing in the direction of the haystack. The stable boy frowned at her, seeming resentful that she was taking charge. ‘It means we can carry the load downhill instead of uphill,’ Janna pointed out.

He gave a grudging nod and changed direction. Janna followed him, veering off to the haystack as they passed. She bent to examine the ashy remains. The scene and the smell reminded her of the time she’d searched the burnt ruins of her own home, and how her search had uncovered her mother’s secret cache with its clues to her father’s identity, the clues she could not read and didn’t know how to interpret. Hugh’s words came back to Janna. He’d said that the abbess knew something of her mother’s past. Janna wondered now if, instead of fleeing in a blind panic, she should first have sought an audience with the abbess. Perhaps it was still possible? It would certainly be worth the risk of being seen by the villagers if the abbess could tell her where to begin her search for the truth about her mother – and her father. Janna pushed the thought aside for consideration later, and began her search.

She knew exactly what she was looking for and she examined everything very carefully, first the ruined remains of the haystack, then widening her search to encompass other haystacks nearby. It didn’t take her long to spy it, the leaves a silvery green, the flowers a bright splotch of yellow tucked into the pale straw of a nearby haystack.

Janna snatched out the posy of rue, and ground it to shreds under her boot. Too late, she wondered if she should take Hugh into her confidence, if she should have kept it to show him or even brought him out with her to search the haystacks. Would he have believed her, or had she already stretched his trust too far?

It was too late, now, to think of it or to regret her action. Janna looked towards the stream where the stable lad was already hard at work cutting rushes for Arrow’s stall. She hurried to join him. There was no sign of Edwin now, or her dinner either, Janna realised. With haymaking over, shearing had begun. The hurdles had been taken down and the animals were free to graze in the water meadows, but there was no sign of them or their keeper. She wondered where they were folded now, for it was there that shearing would be taking place and where she needed to search for Edwin if she wanted her dinner this day.

Janna was sweating, hot and filthy by the time she and the stable lad had finished cleaning out Arrow’s stall and spreading armfuls of clean rushes over the bare earth floor. It seemed to her that the horse stood easier now. She knew Hugh’s pride in his sleek black destrier and, having an affinity for all living creatures and in particular this one who had twice borne her on his back, she hoped that the cure was already working, and that the wound would heal without leaving any lasting harm.

With her task over, Janna hurried to the well, keen to slake her thirst. She sank the bucket down, then wound it up again. After splashing cool water over her hands to cleanse them, she cupped them and drank her fill. She was glad to get away from the sullen stable lad, glad to have a few quiet moments alone to think once more about her conversation with Hugh. She was mortified that he had recognised her, and found her out in all her lies, but she also felt an easing of her mind that she no longer had to pretend with him, that he knew the truth, or most of it at least. She hated lies; she hated deceit, and her anger flared anew at the memory of those who had made such a subterfuge necessary.

Her thoughts turned then to the abbess, who knew something about her mother. Hugh had indicated that the abbess thought badly of Eadgyth. She would also think badly of Janna once she found out that Janna was still alive, for she would believe that Janna had fled to escape the consequences once her cot had burned down. Was it worth braving the abbess’s wrath in the hope she would relent enough to tell Janna what she knew?

With her thirst quenched, Janna sat for a few moments beside the well to rest and ponder the question, leaning her back against the rough stone wall with a weary sigh. But the shocks of the day were not yet over.

‘Hello! My name’s Hamo. What’s yours?’ A child’s voice jerked her out of her reverie. She sat upright with a gasp, feeling giddy and disorientated. This had happened once before. Was she dreaming now, or was it happening all over again? She blinked as a little boy’s bright face came into focus. She recognised him. Just so had he introduced himself to her at the manor house at Babestoche. She looked about her, recognising her surroundings as Hugh’s manor farm, and breathed a faint sigh of relief that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. But what was Hamo doing here?

He held tight to a piece of rope attached to a mangy dog. All skin and bones, with matted fur, it now limped over to sniff around Janna’s toes. She backed away, her alarm increasing as she took in Hamo’s companions with a quick glance.

They were just coming through the gate. There was no sign of Hamo’s elderly and disapproving nurse. In her place, and still some distance away, came Cecily and … Godric? Janna blinked and peered more closely. Yes, there was no mistake. It seemed that Hamo had found himself a new nurse, as well as a guide to bring him through the forest. With an effort, she brought her attention back to the boy’s questioning gaze.

‘I know you,’ he announced firmly, and then more questioningly, ‘aren’t you …?’

‘My name is John,’ Janna said gruffly, too alarmed by his unexpected arrival to worry about being rude and interrupting the young lord of the manor. Her alarm increased as she noted Cecily’s steps quicken to protect her charge. Cecily knew that Janna hadn’t died in the fire, but Janna had sworn her to secrecy. Would she keep the secret even now?

And Godric, how could she face him? He had protected her so loyally, but he didn’t know the truth for she’d stayed hidden when he came looking for her. She hadn’t wanted him to see her, arguing to herself that she couldn’t afford to become involved with him, or feel beholden to him, for he was tied to the manor whereas she was free to go – to run for her life, as it turned out. Her decision had seemed sensible at the time but now she could feel only shame at her mean spirit and lack of trust in not showing herself when he’d called her.

‘My name is John,’ she said again more firmly, and jumped to her feet, desperate to escape before anyone could challenge her identity. She’d forgotten about the dog. Startled by her sudden movement, it sank its teeth into her ankle and hung on, growling. The pain was sharp as a cut from a sword, and Janna stopped with a cry. ‘Get your dog off me, Hamo,’ she ordered.

‘Bones!’ Hamo dropped the rope. He tried to prise the dog’s teeth apart, but it growled and sank them deeper.

‘Be careful! Mind he doesn’t bite you,’ Janna said, automatically protective.

‘Godric will help. He brought us through the forest and he found Bones. He’ll know what to do.’ And before Janna had a chance to protest, Hamo turned and shouted the villein’s name. There was nothing else for Janna to do then, but wait for the shame of discovery.

‘Bones! Let go!’ Godric arrived in a burst of speed. He hardly looked at Janna. All his attention was on the dog as he bent and firmly prised open its jaw.

Janna felt the teeth withdraw, and wondered if she still had time to make a run for it. But Hamo had grabbed hold of her hand. ‘This is John,’ he said gravely, holding on tight. She had no choice but to stand still and face Godric.

‘Thank you for getting the dog off me,’ she said faintly.

His eyes widened. He said nothing, but he went pale. Janna knew she would never forget the look on his face as he studied her intently. Confusion gave way to elation, which immediately darkened into anger and utter rejection. His face closed into a bitter scowl, and he turned away. Cecily had reached them now, and she took in the situation in one quick glance. ‘Janna! What are you doing here?’

Godric still said nothing. Janna wanted to find the words to reach him, to make him understand why she’d acted as she had, and to tell him what was in her heart. She tried, but she couldn’t think of anything to say that might make the situation any easier. Stricken mute, she looked down at the ground.

‘Janna?’ Hamo queried.

‘There you are, John! I’ve brought your dinner.’ Edwin had come dashing into the yard, and he hailed Janna as soon as he spied her. As he noticed the still tableau beside the well, his footsteps slowed. He held out the sack of food to Janna as he advanced towards them.

With a muttered exclamation, Godric pushed past them all and headed towards the gate, moving at speed. ‘Godric! Wait!’ Janna said urgently. ‘I can explain …’ But he ignored her plea and increased his pace. The dog took off after him, moving as quickly as its maimed paws would allow.

‘Bones! Come back!’ Hamo made an effort to grab hold of the rope trailing behind his pet, but Cecily grasped him and hauled him back. ‘You must stay with me, Hamo,’ she said firmly, and looked at Edwin.

‘Who is he?’ she asked Janna.

A short silence followed Cecily’s question, before Edwin cheerfully gave her his name. ‘I am John’s elder brother, mistress,’ he added by way of explanation, and sketched a bow. Still no-one said anything, Janna because she was incapable of speech and Cecily because she was utterly confused. Edwin’s worried glance moved between them both, and then he looked after Godric’s disappearing figure. His frown deepened.

Cecily’s glance followed his. ‘Over here, sire!’ She hailed a couple of strangers who were just coming through the gate. Seemingly Godric had guided the men through the forest along with Hamo and Cecily, for one of them put a hand on Godric’s arm to restrain him. The other fumbled a coin from his purse but by the time he held it out, Godric had pushed past the pair and was gone.

In answer to Cecily’s call they surrendered their mounts, including several heavily laden sumpter horses, to the waiting groom and paused to give instructions. As the groom led the horses away, Janna noticed that one of them had cast a shoe and was walking awkwardly.

‘Shearing’s started. I have to get back,’ Edwin said hurriedly. ‘You’d better come too, John, or you’ll feel the sharp edge of Serlo’s tongue.’ He thrust the sack at Janna and disappeared around the side of the barn.

‘John? Doesn’t he know who you really are?’ Cecily turned to Janna to clear up the mystery.

Janna sighed. ‘Yes, of course he does. And so does my lord Hugh.’ At the mention of Hugh’s name, Cecily gave Janna a questioning glance, but she didn’t say anything. ‘I met Edwin while I was lost in Gravelinges,’ Janna continued. ‘He …’ She was about to tell Cecily the truth of what had happened, but stopped herself in time. This was Edwin’s secret, not hers, and his safety depended on her keeping it. ‘He’s from Wales and we’re going to seek work in Winchestre,’ Janna said instead, wishing there was no need to lie to Cecily, or anyone else. She was sick of telling lies, sick of having to hide the truth. ‘We decided to travel together but, by greatest misfortune, we found work and shelter on this farm not knowing that it belongs to the lord Hugh.’

‘To Dame Alice,’ Cecily corrected Janna.

‘But he manages the demesne for his aunt.’

‘Yes, that is why we are here.’ Cecily nodded thoughtfully. ‘After my lord left Babestoche, Hamo fretted so much that Dame Alice decided to let him come here for a short visit.’

‘How is ma dame? Is she quite recovered from …’ Janna wasn’t sure how to phrase the question delicately, but Cecily answered readily enough.

‘In truth, ma dame still grieves over the death of her infant son. She is low in spirits and in health. She told me it would relieve her mind greatly to think that Hamo is here and happy with my lord Hugh.’

Janna surveyed the tiring woman, thinking it also a shrewd move on Dame Alice’s part to remove Cecily from her husband’s influence. Too much harm had already resulted from Robert’s untoward interest in Cecily. Janna wondered how much Dame Alice suspected about their past liaison.

Cecily caught her hand. ‘I know I said I would stay and watch out for ma dame,’ she whispered, ‘but I had no choice when she asked me to accompany Hamo. His own nurse is too old to make the journey and besides, Dame Alice believes Hamo needs someone closer to his own age to take care of him and amuse him.’

‘I shouldn’t worry about ma dame’s safety,’ Janna consoled her. ‘That is, unless Robert has turned his affection to another young woman in your household?’

‘No.’ Cecily gave Janna a rueful smile. ‘I think he has learned his lesson – as have I.’

‘Then Dame Alice is in no danger. In fact, Robert will be trying to convince her that he has always had her best interests in his heart.’

‘Pray God that you are right.’ Cecily turned from Janna then, and swept a low curtsy. ‘My lord,’ she said hastily, greeting the two strangers who were now almost upon them. ‘I hope you are not too weary after your journey? If you will come with me, I will take you to meet the lord Hugh, Dame Alice’s nephew.’ She turned abruptly away from Janna, at a loss to explain her earnest conversation with a lowly farmhand.

Janna came to her rescue. ‘I’ll see about finding the dog, mistress. And the young lord.’

‘Hamo?’ Cecily’s hand came to her mouth. ‘I didn’t see him go! Where is he?’

‘I’ll set off in search of him right now, mistress.’

Leaving Cecily to take care of Hugh’s visitors, Janna prepared to search the manor grounds, bringing with her the sack of food that Edwin had thrust at her. She was hungry and so, she was willing to wager, were the dog and its master. If shouting didn’t bring them into view, a sack of food well might.

‘H
AMO
! H
AMO, WHERE
are you?’ Janna had searched the kitchen garden and orchard, as well as the undercroft and all the barns, workshops and other buildings that made up the manor’s demesne. She’d even gone upstairs to peek unobtrusively into the hall, to make sure that he was not among the throng gathered around Hugh. Gytha was up there, she noted, with an instant pang of envy as she saw the beauty circulating among the guests, pouring wine into goblets and offering platters of food.

Hamo was nowhere to be seen, and Janna was growing anxious. The manor was close to stream and river. Could Hamo swim? She hurried downstairs and peered first into the well. ‘Hamo?’ she shouted, and listened to her voice echoing downwards. There was no reply. Wasting no time, she rushed out through the gates to check the manor’s fish pool, but there was no sign of a child, drowning or otherwise. Janna’s anxiety increased as she looked down over the stubbled water meadows to the swiftly flowing river beyond. Although it was quite shallow, the fast current could turn into whirlpools in the deep holes that pockmarked the riverbed. Even more dangerous was the water mill further downriver. Its great wheel churned in a thunder of foam with the force of the water channelled into it. She looked upstream towards the water-logged marsh, which was equally dangerous to a child who couldn’t swim. Beyond the river and straight ahead was the solid green wall of the forest of Gravelinges. Might Hamo have crossed the river in safety at the ford, and be on his way home to his mother?

No, she thought, remembering Cecily’s words. He’d pined at home; he wanted to visit his cousin Hugh. So why, then, had he run away?

She remembered the lame and mangy dog. Hamo seemed to have adopted it as a pet, and yet it had run after Godric when he left the manor. Had Hamo slipped away to find it? And if so, where might he have gone? She turned in a circle, trying to spot any signs of the boy and his dog. Behind the manor spread the fields, basking gold and green in the hot afternoon sun. The sounds of frightened baaing and bleating gave direction to the shearers, but there was no sign of Godric, or the dog. Would he go straight home? Had Hamo followed them into the forest? She shielded her eyes and peered across the water meadows once more, in case she could see anyone walking towards the forest. The thought of Hamo lost and alone gave her the shudders, until a new horror forced itself into her consciousness. Now she stood, icy cold in spite of the heat, and shaking with dread. Hamo’s disappearance. Was this the next disaster to befall Hugh’s manor? If so, whoever was behind what was happening must either have had advance warning that the party was arriving today, or have acted on impulse and with lightning speed to take advantage of Hamo’s unexpected appearance. How likely was that? Fighting anxiety, Janna cast about for any signs of movement.

A couple of swans, followed by a line of fluffy grey-brown cygnets, paddled majestically upriver, labouring against the current that dragged them down towards the mill. There was no sign of any other living thing either in the water or beside it, but Janna couldn’t see very much of the river’s path for it was shrouded by trees. She forced herself to stand quietly, to think things through. There was no point in alarming herself needlessly, or rushing about looking in all the wrong places, she decided. Better, surely, to think of the most logical explanation for Hamo’s absence: that he’d gone in pursuit of the stray dog, and Godric.

It was a hot day. Godric and his party would have had a long walk through the forest, might even have spent the night there. Neither Godric nor Hamo had taken water from the well to drink, or any food, so they would be thirsty and probably hungry too. Where might Godric or Hamo have gone for refreshment?

The river, Janna decided. Upstream or downstream? She shrugged. She had no idea, but there was no time to waste in indecision, not if she wanted to catch up with the pair.

‘Hamo?’ she shouted, as she hurried down towards the ford. ‘Godric?’ If Hamo was with Godric, why had he not brought the boy back to the manor? Her pace increased. If Hamo hadn’t found Godric, he could be in the most deadly danger. ‘Hamo!’ she shouted. ‘Where are you?’

A faint cry answered her, and she felt a momentary relief until she realised it was Godric’s voice she could hear, not Hamo’s. She couldn’t see him, but his voice had come from the dense thicket of brambles and trees that lined the river’s path upstream.

‘Godric!’ She broke into a run, the quicker to reach him. ‘Hamo’s lost,’ she bellowed. ‘Please, please help me look for him!’ She pushed her way through trees and bushes, only to find her way barred by the mangy dog, which snarled and bared his teeth. ‘Get out of my way!’ Janna was too worried to be afraid. She aimed a kick in the dog’s direction, and it backed off, barking furiously. ‘Godric!’ He’d been up to some illegal fishing, she realised, as she spotted a flash of silver on the river bank behind him.

‘Where is he? Where’s Hamo?’ He’d come running, forgetting to hide the evidence of his poaching in his anxiety over the boy.

‘I don’t know. I thought he might be looking for you and the dog.’

‘Bones.’ Godric gave the dog a disgusted glance. ‘Look at it! I tried to leave it behind, but the stupid thing kept following me.’

Even though the dog had given her grief, Janna thought Godric was being a little harsh. That the dog was in pain from its paws was evident. The dog had been lawed to conform to the harsh forest laws. Three claws had been cut off to the knuckle on each forepaw so that the cur could not chase after the king’s game, but not enough care had been taken. Its paws were bloody, and full of pus. The dog was also half-starved, reasons enough for its antisocial behaviour. But Janna had no time for Bones now. Her anxiety overrode even the awkwardness she felt being face to face with Godric as she quickly explained the situation to him.

‘You go on upriver and I’ll go down towards the mill,’ he said at once. ‘Keep calling. If either one of us finds him, we must go in search of the other.’ He glanced up at the sun. ‘If neither of us finds him by the time the sun touches the tree line over there, we should retrace our steps and meet back here so that we can get back to the manor before it gets too dark to see.’

Janna nodded agreement, greatly relieved that he was prepared to help her search and that there were no recriminations – at least, not yet. ‘Hamo!’ Godric had already started off, following the river downstream. The dog limped behind him. Janna hastened off towards the marsh, also calling Hamo’s name. Along the way, and just to be on the safe side, she quickly kicked Godric’s illicit catch back into the river.

She hadn’t gone far when she heard a shout. ‘He’s here!’ Immediately she turned and raced downstream in the direction Godric had taken. After a few moments, she saw him. Her body went cold with shock as she saw that he carried the limp and dripping body of Hamo.

Pray he isn’t dead, she thought, as she rushed up to Godric and fell into step beside him. He was striding up towards the manor, bearing his burden at the greatest speed he could muster. The boy was blue around the lips, and he hung lifeless in Godric’s arms. Janna fought down her rising panic. She couldn’t bear the thought that after all, they had come too late to help Hamo. There was a bloody gash across his forehead, but Janna noticed one of his eyelids twitch and felt a huge surge of relief.

She cast her mind back into the past, to a time when she and her mother had passed two villeins arguing over possession of a pig. As they’d passed by on their way to market, the argument had escalated over whose pig it was to sell. Punches were thrown, and finally one of the villeins pushed the other into the river. Hearing his cry, Eadgyth had turned and run back to aid the culprit rescue his victim, but the man was lifeless by the time they managed to get him out of the water. Janna remembered what her mother had done. ‘Put Hamo down!’ she told Godric.

‘We have to get him back to the manor house.’ Godric’s pace didn’t check.

‘Put him down! On his stomach.’ Janna grabbed hold of Godric’s arm and dragged on him to make him do as she asked. ‘We have to push the water out of his chest.’

Reluctantly, Godric laid Hamo down on a bed of soft grass. Janna turned his head to one side, then straddled the boy’s back and pressed down hard. A gush of water erupted from Hamo’s mouth. She lifted his arms to give him a chance to breathe in, then pressed down once more. She kept pushing and lifting until at last the boy began to cough and splutter. He took in a great whoop of air, and began to breathe on his own. But he was incapable of speech, so Janna turned to Godric. ‘Where did you find him? What happened to him?’

‘He was in the river, lying face down. Drowning.’

‘I can see that,’ she said impatiently. ‘I mean, was anyone else there with him, anyone at all?’

‘No.’ Godric looked puzzled. ‘Only me. If you hadn’t sounded the alarm, if we hadn’t gone after him, he would have died. It’s lucky we found him in time.’

‘How did it happen? Can you tell?’

Godric shrugged. ‘He must have slipped and fallen into the river.’

‘What about that wound on his forehead? Do you think he might first have been hit over the head and then pushed?’

‘Why should anyone want to do that?’ Godric squatted beside Janna, who had her arm around Hamo now and was helping him to sit up. ‘What’s going on? Why are you asking me these questions?’

‘I can’t tell you.’ Janna wasn’t done yet. She had one final question, but she dreaded hearing the answer.

‘Did you notice any rue nearby? I mean a posy picked, not rue growing wild?’

‘No. But I wasn’t looking for anything like that.’ Godric lifted a questioning eyebrow. ‘Why should there be a posy of rue lying about?’

‘It’s for regret. Repentance.’

‘I wish you’d explain yourself, Janna.’ Godric lifted the boy into his arms once more. ‘But I know that you don’t care to explain anything to me, anything at all.’ His tone was bitter as he strode off in the direction of the manor house, leaving Janna to scurry after him.

A great cry went up as they came inside the gate. It was clear Cecily had confessed to losing Hamo, for everyone came running from all directions to welcome them back. Hugh was at the forefront of the crowd. As Godric made to hand Hamo over to his cousin, Hamo wriggled free. ‘I can walk by myself,’ he announced with dignity, and bent to pat the mangy dog that had followed them in.

‘What happened, Hamo?’ Hugh asked the question that Janna most feared.

‘Nothing.’ The boy looked up, all injured innocence now.

‘Tell me!’ Hugh folded his arms and waited, hiding his concern with an appearance of exasperation.

‘I … I wanted to find Bones.’ Hamo made to take the dog in his arms but it bared its teeth and whined softly. Hamo backed off.

‘I’m afraid the dog followed me when I left the manor, sire,’ Godric admitted.

Hamo shot him a grateful glance. ‘I saw Godric going towards the river. He didn’t know I was following him,’ he added, determined that Godric shouldn’t get any blame for what had happened. ‘When I got there I couldn’t see him, or Bones, but I guessed he went downriver and that’s where I went. But Godric must have gone the other way.’

Janna waited somewhat anxiously for Hugh to ask why Godric had gone up the river at all instead of crossing the ford and heading for home.

‘What happened to you? Why are you so wet?’ Fortunately for Godric, Hugh was much more interested in Hamo.

Hamo shrugged. ‘I followed the path of the river a little way. I thought Bones might have fallen in but I couldn’t see through all the reeds so I came close to the edge to have a look and … and I slipped and fell.’ He touched the gash across his forehead, and winced when he saw the blood on his fingers. ‘I s’pose I must have hit my head.’

It was possible Hamo’s admission gave his dignity even more of a battering than his head and clothes had taken in the river, Janna thought. She heaved a deep sigh of relief as his words sank into her understanding. An accident, no more than that. ‘Godric saved me.’ Hamo looked at Janna. ‘And also …’

‘John,’ Janna said firmly, before Hamo could say her name in front of everyone.

‘And I thank you for it.’ Hugh gave Janna a searching glance, then took Hamo by the hand. ‘A hot bath for you, young man. Mistress Cecily!’ He beckoned her forward, then turned to Godric. ‘I’d like a word with you too,’ he said, and hurried off. Godric exchanged an anxious glance with Cecily as they followed Hugh. ‘I’ll make up an ointment to put on the young lord’s cuts and bruises,’ Janna called after them, resolving to use some of the ointment to treat her ankle, where the dog’s teeth had left their mark. Cecily lifted her hand to show that she’d heard, and kept on going. Ignored and forgotten, the dog trailed them up the stairs and into the hall.

With the drama over, the rest of the crowd began to disperse, the two visitors among them. Janna watched them leave. She wondered who they were and why they were visiting the manor. One was finely dressed. His tunic was richly embroidered and his boots were made of good leather, though scratched and stained with mud and muck. The journey through the forest had left its mark. His companion was more plainly dressed, and walked a pace or two behind his master. She looked about for Edwin to ask him who the lordling was. He was always quick to hear the gossip from the kitchen staff. There was no sign of him, but Gytha was still lingering, and as she caught Janna’s glance, she smiled and came over.

‘That boy will be in trouble for running away,’ she observed, and wrinkled her nose. ‘I hope he doesn’t expect us to find shelter for that smelly, flea-bitten bag of bones he’s found.’

Janna hid a smile. She was quite sure that Hamo had every intention of keeping his pet. She was also quite sure that the boy would prove more than a match for Gytha when it came to getting his own way. ‘We have visitors, I see,’ she responded.

‘Master Siward and his manservant. They go to the great fairs to buy and to sell for their lord, but one of their horses is lame so they must break their journey here for a while.’ Gytha shrugged, clearly uninterested.

‘And have they travelled far?’