Janna Mysteries 1 & 2 Bindup (41 page)

‘Was he?’ Hugh seized her arm. He sounded truly fearful as he begged, ‘For God’s sake, tell me if you know where he is, Johanna!’

‘I do not know, sire. I wish I did.’ Baffled, Janna shook her head while the last of her carefully constructed assumptions fell apart in the face of Hugh’s anguish.

Hugh let go of her arm and began to curse under his breath. Then he turned on Janna. ‘I must go out and search for the boy. You have given relief to my aunt in the past, Johanna. Will you see her again? Perhaps mix up some posset to ease her mind, for she is in great distress.’

‘I can’t!’ Janna answered without thinking.

‘Why not?’ Now Hugh sounded cold and hard as he continued: ‘I will pay you for your ministrations, if that is what is on your mind.’

‘No! No, sire, it isn’t that at all!’

‘Then why will you not go to my aunt? Cecily begged me to keep your secret, she says you believe people wish you harm, but you cannot fear my aunt, surely?’

‘But I do, sire. I fear everyone.’ Janna stopped and took a deep breath. She remembered what Hugh had said in the past about his aunt’s marriage. Would he be sympathetic to her cause? ‘I especially fear my lord Robert,’ she said carefully.

Hugh frowned, but he didn’t say anything. Janna knew she had come too far to back out now. She must go on, although she would not tell him everything she knew. She wouldn’t betray Cecily. ‘I asked you once before to keep my identity a secret,’ she said. ‘It was because I feared him. I believe it was he who incited the villagers to set fire to my cottage, even though they knew that I was inside. In fact, I suspect that was part of the plan, for the lord Robert wanted me either dead or gone from the manor. I want him to think he has succeeded in this. Indeed, my safety depends on it.’

‘Why should Robert want your death? What do you know about him?’

It was a fair question, but one Janna was not prepared to answer, at least not without Cecily’s permission. She stayed silent while Hugh waited for an answer. At last, when he saw she would say nothing more, he heaved a sigh and said softly, ‘My aunt married unwisely when she chose Robert but, by calling in the priest to marry them at the church door, she now has the sanction of the church on her marriage and therefore cannot undo the union, no matter how much she might have come to regret it. That is why she summoned me for the birth of her baby, and that is why I stayed on at the manor for such a long time afterwards. It was because she suspected that Robert has turned his affection elsewhere. How am I doing so far, Johanna? Do you know what I’m talking about?’

His question caught Janna by surprise. She gave a reluctant nod.

‘And I suspect you know a lot more than you’re telling me?’ Hugh waited for Janna’s reply, but she stayed silent. Her own mother had died because Robert had tried to silence Cecily, but without proof Janna couldn’t accuse Robert of anything. That hadn’t stopped him trying to silence Janna with the willing aid of the villagers he’d incited. And she knew he’d try again if he realised his secret hadn’t died with her.

‘Perhaps you’re not prepared to betray any confidences?’ Hugh ventured.

Janna nodded again, relieved that he seemed to understand her position.

‘Then tell me!’ He grasped her once more by the arm, and thrust his face close to hers. ‘Does any of this have anything to do with Hamo’s disappearance now?’

‘No. At least, I don’t think so.’ Janna looked up at Hugh, conscious of how closely they stood together. She could see the stubble of his beard, and smell the sweat on him after his hard ride through the forest. She closed her eyes, feeling suddenly faint with longing.

‘Johanna.’ His voice was gentle. ‘I keep saying that I won’t underestimate you, and then I go and do it all over again.’ He gave a rueful laugh. ‘But you still haven’t told me why you’ve been following me about the manor, when you could have come straight to the stable if you really wanted to change Arrow’s dressing.’

His question brought Janna back to the reality of her position. She blinked, and stepped away from him. Yet she could not break the tie she’d sensed between them. How far could she trust him with the truth?

‘I’m looking for Hamo, sire. I wondered if you …’ She found she could not go on.

‘If I … know where he is? If I can lead you to him? Do you think I have him hidden somewhere?’ There was a hard edge of anger behind the question.

Janna tilted her chin, assuming a bravery she did not feel. She found she was incapable of answering his question.

Hugh gave a short, hard laugh. ‘I can assure you I don’t know where Hamo is, and I’m every bit as concerned for his safety as you are. If you have any thoughts about where he might have strayed, I beg you to tell me so that we can look for him there.’

‘I don’t think he has strayed, sire. I believe he’s been taken.’ Janna felt a sudden doubt as she said the words. Had her longing for Hugh led her to misread the situation? For a brief moment, she didn’t know whether or not to hope that she had. Then she reminded herself that everything pointed to abduction rather than happenstance.

‘Taken? But why? And by whom?’ Hugh looked stunned as the full import of Janna’s words struck home.

Could her suspicions be correct? A name was on the tip of Janna’s tongue, but she found she could not utter it. Not yet, not without further thought. Not without proof. ‘I don’t know, sire,’ she said instead.

‘But you thought I was responsible?’ Hugh nodded before Janna could answer the question. ‘Yes, I can see why you might think it in my interests to have Hamo out of the way.’ He took hold of Janna’s shoulders and grasped her tight. ‘You must believe me, I know nothing of any of this,’ he said earnestly. His jaw set into a determined line. ‘But by God, you can be sure I’ll get to the bottom of it. No-one will be safe from my questions, no-one.’ He let her go and took a step back. ‘Not even Edwin,’ he added. ‘Go and fetch him now. I will question him along with everyone else.’ And before Janna could protest, he strode out of the stable.

J
ANNA LOOKED DOWN
at the ball she was still clutching in her hand. All her fine theories about Hugh’s guilt had been blown away, and she was more than glad of it, for there was someone else now to take his place. She’d seen and heard several things that could suggest a possible motive for what had been happening, but before she could do anything to find Hamo, she would first have to prove that what she was thinking could be true. Edwin would have to wait. She had far more important things to do right now than go looking for him.

Taking care to keep her face hidden lest Robert or Dame Alice should see her, she went in search of Cecily. She didn’t have to look far. The tiring woman was moping about the kitchen garden once more. Bones was with her, still tied to the old piece of rope. Even as Janna watched, the dog lifted a leg and sent a liberal spray over a patch of parsley. Janna pulled a face, hoping that the cook was as punctilious as her own mother had been when it came to washing herbs before using them.

‘Cecily,’ she called, in case the tiring woman hurried away now that her charge had done his duty. She tucked Hamo’s ball behind her back as she approached. Bones barked and wagged his tail, and she bent to give him a pat, pleased that he stood four-square on his paws, seemingly without discomfort.

Cecily gave her a woebegone smile. ‘I’m glad Serlo saw sense and let you go free, Janna.’

Janna grinned in return. ‘Actually, I escaped. But it’s all right, my lord Hugh knows about the missing goods. He knows I am not to blame, and he has spoken to Serlo about it.’ Surprised, the tiring woman opened her mouth to question Janna further. ‘Will you tell me again about the last time you saw Hamo?’ Janna hurried on, unwilling to waste time on explanations.

Cecily’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I left him over there.’ She flung out her hand towards the staircase which led upwards to the hall.

‘And he was playing with his ball?’ Janna confirmed.

Cecily nodded.

‘This one?’ Janna pulled it out from behind her back and showed it to the tiring woman.

Cecily gasped. ‘Where did you get that?’ She took it from Janna and peered at it as if it might reveal the secret of Hamo’s whereabouts.

‘I found it here in the kitchen garden, hidden within a bush of rue. And I found the dog here, too. I think he’d been beaten. He was frightened.’

‘But … who? Why?’

‘I’m working on it.’ Janna took Cecily’s hand. ‘Try not to worry,’ she said gently. ‘I think I’m close to finding an answer. If I’m right, none of the blame for Hamo’s disappearance will fall on you.’

‘Do you know where he is? Is he still alive?’ Cecily’s face shone with new hope.

‘I hope so.’ It was as far as Janna was prepared to go right now. She released Cecily’s hand, frowning as she noticed a patch of tiny blisters on her own hand. They were itchy and sore. Janna scratched them absent-mindedly. ‘You said you were called away to speak to the cook about Hamo’s meals. Who called you away?’ She waited for an answer, willing Cecily to speak the name in her mind.

‘Master Serlo,’ Cecily answered readily. ‘I asked his advice about Hamo. I wanted to know what Hamo might do about the manor farm to keep him occupied, for he is such a bright and merry boy, I knew he would not be content to stay by my side all the time. I thought Master Serlo might arrange for him to learn to ride, perhaps, or become more proficient with his swordplay, for I know he loves to pretend to fight just like his cousin Hugh. Serlo suggested I speak to the cook about providing good fresh food for Hamo, for he is growing apace and is always hungry.’

Serlo! No-one had been more assiduous in the search for Hamo than the reeve. No-one was more proud of the manor farm. In Hugh’s absence he had taken charge of it as if it was his own. He had nothing to gain from setting a fox amongst the hens, or killing a lamb, setting fire to a haystack, destroying the new wheat or laming Hugh’s horse – or even snatching a child. He had nothing to gain but the destruction of Hugh’s reputation. Janna’s next thought sent her heart plummeting down to her boots. Serlo might have started out with the intention of discrediting Hugh in the eyes of his aunt, perhaps hoping that it would further his own interests. But snatching Hamo meant a larger purpose altogether, a purpose Janna couldn’t bear to think about.

If there was anything in Serlo’s past to shed light on his actions now, the cook would surely know, Janna thought. She was a know-all and a gossip, and she must be made to talk. Conscious that time was passing and that the more pressing need was to find Hamo rather than working out how to force Serlo to show his hand, Janna turned to Cecily.

‘I’m going to make up a posset for Dame Alice, for I believe the lady is in sore distress,’ she told Cecily. ‘Will you come to the kitchen and fetch it by and by? I beg you, if you value my life please don’t tell ma dame, or Robert, where it comes from.’

Cecily nodded. ‘I have kept your secret, as I vowed I would,’ she assured Janna.

‘But please tell my lord Hugh that I have made up the posset, as he asked.’

Cecily’s eyes widened as she came to understand the full implications of all Janna had told her. The lord of the manor had reached an understanding with a lowly peasant who dressed as a boy and worked as a farmhand. A smile twitched Janna’s mouth as she read the girl’s bafflement.

‘I must go up to ma dame.’ Cecily thrust the end of the rope into Janna’s hand. ‘Please take the dog. It upsets Dame Alice to have it near by, while my lord Robert gives it a kick every time it comes close to his boot.’

Janna gave a small huff of sour amusement. She could quite well believe it of Robert. The man was a bully, afraid of no-one save his wife. And the thought of anything that might jeopardise his comfortable life, Janna amended.

As Cecily climbed the stairs and vanished into the hall, Janna tugged on the rope to lead Bones to the herbs she wanted to pick for Dame Alice’s posset. Wild lettuce and valerian would help to calm and soothe her, banish nightmares and help her to sleep, while motherwort, sweet marjoram or any of several other herbs would build her strength and lift her spirits. She glanced at the dog as she picked the roots, leaves and flowers she needed. He’d been washed, his coat was clean and shining. In fact, the dog was starting to look almost handsome. ‘Where were you when Hamo was taken?’ she asked, sure in her own mind that Bones had been used as bait to trap Hamo, and that the dog had then been dumped, along with Hamo’s ball, once the child was safely out of sight. Or dead.

She hurriedly pushed the thought away. She could not afford to give in to despair, not while there was the slightest chance that Hamo might still be alive. ‘Did you see Hamo?’ she asked Bones. ‘Do you know where he is now?’

The dog looked at her with bright, intelligent eyes, and whined softly. Janna gave him a pat and straightened, clutching her handful of plants. She hurried off to the kitchen, with Bones trotting willingly beside her. He’d obviously decided that the kitchen was his favourite place, and he strained on his lead to get there, setting up a frantic sniffing and barking once inside.

‘Get that mongrel out of here,’ Mistress Tova said savagely, as she swiped a piece of bacon away from the dog’s quivering nose.

Janna set down the fragrant herbs she carried. She surreptitiously slid her hand over a piece of bacon fat before dragging Bones outside. While he was busy gulping down the titbit, she tied him to a post, leaving him in view of the door so that she could watch out for him. Then she went back inside, determined to put the cook’s gossip to good use for once.

The cook glanced sideways at Janna. ‘Master Serlo was in here looking for you – and your brother. You’re in a lot of trouble, both of you. He says there are some goods missing from the undercroft.’

‘My lord Hugh knows that we are both innocent of this crime,’ Janna said quickly.

Mistress Tova gave a suspicious sniff, as if to smell out the truth. ‘Doesn’t do to get on the wrong side of Serlo,’ she muttered darkly.

It was the opening Janna was waiting for.

‘Tell me about Master Serlo, mistress,’ she said. She hooked a pot of water over the fire to boil, and began to prepare and chop the herbs she’d picked. ‘How is it that he lives in such a substantial home and is allowed to keep all those fields for his own?’

‘This manor once belonged to Serlo’s family.’ Unable to resist a good gossip, the cook came over and settled her bony backside onto a stool. ‘The land was confiscated by William the Bastard after the great battle at Hastings,’ she confided. ‘The king gave this estate as well as several others to Dame Alice’s grandfather, who had fought with him and so was rewarded for his service. Serlo’s family lost their land and their livelihood, and were reduced to the status of villeins on a manor they had owned for centuries before that.’

Janna was silent as she absorbed the cook’s information. This was the link that completed the puzzle. It was also a familiar story. Many Saxon thegns had been dispossessed of their lands after the Norman invasion. William had even taken an inventory of everything he’d conquered, right down to the last hide and plough, cow and pig, mill and fishery, and had kept a record in what everyone now called ‘the Domesday Book’ for it seemed like a final reckoning of their lives. But the commissioners had many arguments to settle first, so it was said, for the thegns did not give up their land and possessions lightly, while the Norman barons were always greedy to claim more than their entitlement. It had caused great hardship, anger and misery at the time. It seemed that the memory of past greatness and great wrongs did not die easily.

‘Ma dame inherited the property through her own family, but Serlo still takes great pride in the estate,’ Mistress Tova continued, confirming the direction in which Janna’s thoughts now lay. ‘It was to reward him for his good offices that my lord Hugh granted him the right to live in a cottage that had once belonged to his family and gave him the gore acres as his own, on the understanding that the work was done in Serlo’s own time and that it would not take anything away from his attention to the rest of the manor.’

She hesitated, torn between loyalty to her daughter and confiding her innermost fears. ‘In truth, John,’ she said then, ‘I have urged Gytha to encourage Serlo’s attention, for I know he is keen – more than keen – to wed her. In faith, the reeve is besotted with her, he is sick with love, but Gytha will have none of him for she means to marry my lord and no other.’

Janna nodded. She’d seen how Serlo looked at Gytha, and how disdainfully the young girl treated him in turn. Serlo must know that he had a rival for her affections, and who he was. How he must hate being subservient to Hugh, especially as all this had once belonged to his own family! ‘And does the lord Hugh encourage her in this expectation?’ It took all Janna’s courage to remain calm as she waited for the cook to reply.

Mistress Tova sighed. ‘He does not,’ she admitted sadly. Then she brightened slightly. ‘But my lord is lonely, and my daughter is beautiful. While he breathes, there is hope for her.’ She thought for a moment. ‘And if Gytha’s ambition comes to nothing after all, Serlo will still have her and she must have him. She will see that he has much to offer and that she could do a lot worse than take him for a husband.’

Indeed, Serlo had much to offer, Janna thought. No wonder he worked so hard about the manor, if Gytha was his intended prize. If he could take Hugh down at the same time, that would make his prize even sweeter. She recalled her first meeting with Serlo. ‘See how well my flock is doing,’ Serlo had boasted to the forester while she and Edwin were in hiding. His words had led Janna to believe that they were taking refuge on Serlo’s own property, yet the fields he’d shown the forester were not his own but were part of the manor he oversaw for Hugh.

Janna nodded thoughtfully. Serlo’s slip of the tongue should have alerted her to his real purpose right from the start. Having already reclaimed a substantial property for himself, the reeve meant to have it all. By discrediting Hugh, he hoped to drive him off the manor farm and out of Dame Alice’s good graces, leaving himself in charge. But he must have known that, even if his plan succeeded, his power could only last until Hamo came of age.

Janna’s hand stilled on the knife she was using to cut the herbs. With a cold feeling of dread, she finally acknowledged the unthinkable. Hamo’s visit to the manor was unexpected, as was his ducking in the river, but Serlo had wasted no time using those events to his own advantage. Hamo’s death could be made to seem the result of yet another accident. With Hamo dead, and Hugh out of the way, the path would be clear for Serlo to petition Dame Alice for the right to reclaim what had once belonged to his family. She would surely be agreeable, for by that time the manor would hold only the worst of memories for her.

Janna felt sick. Her hands began to tremble so badly she set down the knife lest she cut herself. Serlo. He had been left in charge of searching the manor grounds and forest in Hugh’s absence. How easy for him to lead the search away from Hamo. How easy for him to ensure that Hamo – or Hamo’s body – would never be found. Was Hamo alive, or dead? A hot tide of rage swept over Janna. She clenched her hands. If Hamo was dead, perhaps buried in the forest somewhere, they might search for ever and never find him. I can’t allow that to happen, Janna vowed. Alive or dead, he
must
be found.

A sudden thought lifted Janna’s spirits slightly, and gave her a thread of hope on which to cling. Dame Alice would never relinquish the manor to Serlo while there was the possibility that Hamo might one day be found. Only his dead body would be enough to convince her either to sell or give the manor farm to Serlo – and so far, there was no dead body. Did that mean Hamo was still alive? Could Serlo be waiting for the hunt to be called off before causing the ‘accident’ that would bring about the boy’s death? If that was the truth of it, then Serlo must be keeping Hamo captive somewhere – but where?

In his own cottage? It seemed the most likely place, but it was also the most dangerous. Serlo was the villeins’ reeve, the first person they would call on if they had a grudge or a grievance to air. And for the same reason he was also the first person Hugh would call on. Anyone entering Serlo’s cottage in search of him would find Hamo. It was surely too big a risk. But if not the cottage, then where? The fields round about? Janna considered the possibility, but only for a moment. There was no shelter out there to hide a child, not for any length of time. If Hamo was anywhere in the fields, he would certainly have been found by now.