Hamo, as the first and only surviving child born to Hugh’s aunt, Dame Alice, would inherit everything on her death. In the interim, Hugh kept this manor for his aunt, but he would be expected to vacate it once Hamo married. Unless, of course, the child died before then?
Janna swallowed hard. She cast a glance at Hugh, hating what she was thinking yet understanding that she could not deny the truth of his situation. Only Hamo stood between him and a vast inheritance from Dame Alice. All the evidence could easily point to Hugh. These incidents had only started on his return to the manor. He, more than anyone, was free to come and go as he wished; no-one would dare to challenge him. Had he set up a pattern of accidents to convince his aunt that Hamo’s disappearance – even his death – while regrettable, was just another accident?
Rue for regret. Repentance. Yes, Hugh might well regret the circumstances that forced him to act in this way. And he might well feel repentance for his actions.
It was still no excuse for murder! Janna continued to watch Hugh direct proceedings, meanwhile berating herself for letting her thoughts run away with her. Hugh murdering Hamo! It was laughable, quite out of the question. She herself had seen his fondness for his cousin when they’d played ball together. And Hamo wouldn’t have fretted after Hugh left the manor if his cousin hadn’t shown him genuine kindness. Nor did it seem likely that Hugh would have tampered with his own destrier’s shoe to lame the horse, for his anger had been apparent and his concern quite real.
No. Janna tried to laugh off her fears. There must be some other explanation. If not Hugh, then who? Edwin? Janna shook her head. His absence might indicate guilt to some, but he’d gone missing before Hamo’s disappearance. Unless that was to cover his actions and avert suspicion? Janna remembered that this wasn’t the first time Edwin had gone missing. He’d been absent on the night of the medale, when the haystack had caught fire and the villagers had come together to put it out. Had he gone off to fire the haystack, and come back later pretending innocence? Was that what he intended to do now? But that was assuming Hamo had vanished for a reason, perhaps for ever, and she couldn’t bear to believe that. She sighed with exasperation. Her imagination was taking her into all sorts of places she didn’t want to go.
Where was Edwin? She had to find him in order to clear his name. Yet it was also true Edwin had a bad side to his character, she conceded. After all, he’d tried to steal her property. Janna’s hand went automatically to her purse. She heard the coins clink at her touch, and felt the shape of the small statue she had found, the mother clasping her child. Her fear eased slightly, and she smiled at the notion that the statue had brought comfort.
Mother and child. She felt a sudden pang of deep distress as she recalled Dame Alice. The lady was utterly cast down by the death of her newborn babe. She would surely go off her head with grief if her only surviving son also died.
This won’t do, Janna told herself sternly. It’s too early for despair. Hamo’s missing, not dead. And he hasn’t been gone for long. She remembered the mangy dog. Hamo must have gone in search of it once more. He would surely soon be found.
By now, everyone had been summoned by the urgent, clamouring bell. Although she’d been ordered to search outside the manor with the men, Janna decided instead to hunt for Bones. Instinct told her that if she could find the dog, she would probably find Hamo too. Regardless of what the rue might mean, it was too great a coincidence that boy and dog should both be missing. So she tried the kitchen first, where she’d last seen Bones. She searched within and without, but there was no sign of dog or boy. She widened her search then, calling as she went, but there was no answering bark or shout for help. It seemed she was right: both of them had vanished. So where had they gone, and with whom?
‘You! Boy!’ Serlo had his horse on a rein, ready to mount, but now he stopped and beckoned Janna to come to him. His face set in a thunderous frown as he waited for her to draw near. ‘Where’s your brother?’ he barked. From the hostility in his tone, Janna understood that she and Edwin were under suspicion for this too. It took all her courage to face the reeve.
‘I don’t know where Edwin is, Master Serlo,’ she answered politely. She became aware she was still clutching the posy of rue, and hastily secreted it behind her back.
‘And the young lord? I don’t suppose you know where he is either?’
‘No.’ Janna hesitated, wondering if she had the nerve. ‘But I do know he’s not with Edwin,’ she added boldly.
‘And how would you know that if you don’t know where your brother is?’
‘I know Edwin, Master Serlo.’ Janna hoped that, indeed, she did. ‘I know he wouldn’t take the boy away for any reason, even in fun.’
Serlo’s frown deepened. ‘What makes you think there’s any reason behind Hamo’s disappearance other than that the silly child has wandered away and got lost?’ he snapped.
Janna kept silent. Hamo was anything but silly. He’d run after his dog and got into trouble for it. While he might go in search of the dog once more, it seemed unlikely he’d go to the river again, or even stray far from the manor unless enticed away by someone he trusted. But she couldn’t blame Serlo for trying to put a good face on things. Besides, it was perfectly possible she’d read the situation wrongly. The fact that there was a posy of rue on the steps of the undercroft might not have anything to do with Hamo’s disappearance; it might be a sign of something quite different, something relatively minor. Up until now the incidents had caused harm, but they were not too serious for all that. Kidnapping a child, the heir to this manor farm, on the other hand, was a very serious crime indeed.
‘Get out and look for Hamo,’ Serlo growled. ‘I don’t want to see you back here before dark. And make sure you bring your brother with you!’ With a scowl he mounted his horse and rode out through the gate.
Janna pulled a face at his departing back. ‘I’m already looking for Hamo,’ she muttered. ‘What do you think I’m doing? Walking about for my health?’ Nevertheless, she linked up with a group of women who were busy searching through the manor grounds. Although she joined them in calling out Hamo’s name, she also called for Bones. But only silence answered their calls.
The bell began to toll again, a low and mournful sound. A shiver ran through Janna as she came to understand its meaning. The sound was to guide the lost child home to safety. It would continue to toll until Hamo was found. And if Hamo didn’t come running home, it would mean that he could not; it would mean that he was dead.
Partly following Serlo’s instructions, partly to avoid Serlo himself, but mostly because she was worried sick, Janna left the manor grounds to search along the length of the river. She stayed out until it grew too dark to see properly. In twos and threes, the villeins began to return, shaking their heads in hopeless despair as they asked each other for news. Hugh called for resin torches to be fetched. With flames held high to light their way, some of the men streamed out of the gate to continue their search once more, a few on foot and some on horseback to ride further afield. Janna was relieved to see that Serlo was among them. The women and children, meanwhile, went off to their own cots to see about an evening meal and a night’s rest.
Not wanting to encounter Mistress Tova’s gossiping tongue, or questions about Edwin’s whereabouts and sly innuendoes about his reliability, Janna wearily climbed the stairs to the hall and settled down onto her pallet, determined to continue her search as soon as dawn lightened the sky. Momentarily, she wondered what had become of Edwin. But her thoughts soon returned to Hamo. She pictured him falling into the river and being crushed by the mill wheel, or blundering through the forest, lost and frightened, not knowing which way to turn. There were wolves out there, and wild boar. Having no weapon, or anything to defend himself, Hamo would be easy prey.
Janna screwed her eyes tight shut, trying to block out the pictures she’d conjured up. With so many people out looking for him, how could Hamo stay lost – unless someone was determined that he shouldn’t be fo
und? She tried to push the thought from her mind but it lay there like a stone, too heavy to shift, too heavy to ignore.
Janna passed a restless night. Nightmares frightened her awake, so that she lay, heart thudding, listening to the snores of the sleepers and, at regular intervals, the lonely sound of the clanging bell. In the end, she fell into a deep sleep and didn’t wake until one of the villeins gave her a hard shake. ‘You’d best get up, John, if you want time to break your fast,’ he said. ‘Master Serlo wants us out at first light to look for the young lord.’
Janna hurriedly did as she was bid, but she was still yawning and only half awake as she munched on a chunk of bread and tried to come up with a plan. The first thing, she decided, was to give the undercroft a thorough search, just to satisfy herself that the posy of rue was in no way connected with Hamo’s disappearance.
‘Where’s your brother, John? I want a word with him,’ Serlo said sternly. Startled, Janna whirled to face the reeve. She hadn’t seen him come in to the hall but, judging from the thunderous frown on his face, he was in a temper and determined to take it out on someone.
‘I … I know not where Edwin is, Master Serlo,’ she confessed miserably, sure now that she would be punished in Edwin’s place.
‘I judge him responsible for the young lord’s disappearance – and you will be suspect too, if you cannot bring Edwin to account. I’m out of patience with you both, but there’s no time to waste on you now. If you don’t have Edwin here by nightfall, I’ll raise the hue and cry after him. I’ll call in the sheriff. Be sure that I’ll also urge the forester to tell all he knows. There’ll be no place for you to hide after this, John, you or your brother. Just think on that.’
‘I swear we know nothing about the young lord’s whereabouts, Master Serlo,’ Janna said hurriedly. ‘But I will go in search of Edwin. And the young lord, if you’ll give me leave to go?’
Serlo nodded curtly, and turned away to deal with a group of women who awaited further instructions. Gytha was among them, and in spite of her anxiety Janna felt a twitch of amusement. Serlo couldn’t keep his eyes off the girl. All his remarks were addressed to Gytha. She stood before him, hardly responding to his attention, while Serlo watched her as a starving man might watch his last crust disappearing down the mouth of a rival.
Janna turned and walked quickly down the stairs. She had more pressing problems to think about now: was it more important to find Hamo or Edwin? Could they even be together?
Another possible companion for Hamo came into Janna’s mind. Urk was older than Hamo, but he was about the same age in his reasoning. Hamo would think nothing of running free on his cousin’s property – his own property – while Urk had already shown that he wasn’t aware of, or didn’t understand, the rules that bound the villeins living on the manor farm. He would be delighted to go searching for Bones, or even play a game with Hamo if the young lord still had his ball with him.
Where might the two of them go? After a moment’s reflection, Janna thought it most likely that they’d stay right here within the confines of the manor, where the ground was cleared and suitable for play. In which case they must soon be found. On the chance that they’d strayed further, Janna decided to search for them in the villeins’ cots that spread beyond the manor. Not understanding the differences in their station, perhaps Urk had taken his new friend home with him.
She hurried outside the timber palisade, making straight for Mistress Wulfrun’s cottage. There was no sign of Urk, or Hamo, but Janna decided to stay and check all the cots while she was there. Most everyone had already joined in the search for Hamo, but Janna alerted a mother who had just been brought to bed with child, and also an elderly and infirm grandmother, and bade them keep a careful watch out for him. The rest of the cots were empty. Remembering her earlier idea, Janna headed back to the manor house. She could hear the villeins’ voices calling Hamo’s name as they hunted for him up and down the river. If Hamo was there, dead or alive, he would certainly be found.
Several riders flashed past. Janna stared after them. She didn’t recognise the horses, but she knew at least one of the horsemen. Hugh. He had donned his green cloak for the journey and it sailed out behind him, given wings by the wind. She wished him a silent ‘God speed’, pleased he wasn’t riding his own destrier, that he was giving the horse’s hoof a chance to heal. They must be widening the search, she thought.
Women and children now moved about with a steady purpose, methodically inspecting once again every nook and cranny that might provide shelter for a small boy. The men fanned out beyond the manor walls, some to continue the search up and down river, looking especially at the mill and the great marsh; the rest to walk through the tall corn or search the meadows on either side of the river, and the outskirts of the forest beyond.
Janna wondered if she should go with the men, but investigating the undercroft was on her mind now. She would rather know the real purpose behind Hamo’s disappearance. She hoped to set her mind at rest. So she walked into the undercroft below the hall, and began a systematic search for anything, anything at all, that might explain the significance of the posy of rue left lying on the doorstep. What was she looking for? She wished she knew.
She kept her mind and eyes focused on the scene in front of her as she poked about. She was looking for something out of place, or something spoiled, perhaps. Even something missing – but how would she know if that was so? She sorted through the few poor possessions stored by the servants who shared her sleeping quarters in the hall, then moved on to the rest of the undercroft where food and grain were kept. Being the hungry month, the time just before harvest, the sacks of grain were few; most were empty. One of the sacks was ripped and Janna checked it carefully. Precious grain spilled out of it. Mouse droppings confirmed that it was mice rather than a human hand behind the deed.
There were also barrels, and several chests. She tried the lid of one of the chests, but found it locked. So were most of the others, she found, as she tried them all. Only one opened to her touch, but a quick riffle through its contents confirmed that there was only a woollen blanket, worn thin and perforated with moth holes, and some chipped pots and jugs inside it. Nothing in the undercroft appeared to have been tampered with; everything seemed in order. Just to be sure, Janna tapped on each one. ‘Hamo?’ she called softly, but there was no reply. She didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry.
With her inspection over, Janna walked outside and paused for a moment while she worked out where to look next.
She was hot, thirsty and tired. And hungry. There were apples growing on the trees that bordered the kitchen garden. As Janna visualised the juicy fruit, her mouth began to water in anticipation. She hurried towards the fruit trees, hoping that the apples were ripe enough to eat, and that no-one was around to watch her steal one. A movement caught her eye and she stopped, wondering what it could be. It looked like a long brown snake. The frayed end told Janna what she’d seen. Curious now, she traced its source to a large wooden barrel. She peered over, and found Bones cowering behind it.
‘Come here!’ she ordered. She tugged hard on the rope. The unwilling creature skidded around and came into full view.
‘Where’s Hamo?’ Janna demanded, then felt silly as she realised she was talking to a dog. But so had she talked to the animals she and her mother had kept at their cottage. ‘Do you know where he’s hiding?’ Her words seemed to soothe the dog, for it stopped cringing away and baring its teeth at her and, instead, sat down and looked up at her with pleading eyes. Janna was incensed to see that its paws were still untreated by the kitchen skivvy. She chided herself for passing on the task rather than taking care of it herself.
‘Poor old Bones.’ She dragged the dog inside the empty kitchen and set about finding it some scraps, hoping to bribe it into good behaviour so that she could put the medicament on its paws. Perhaps the dog knew something about Hamo’s disappearance; perhaps it could even lead her to Hamo? First, though, Janna wanted to take care o
f its wounds so that at least it could walk properly with her when she went searching.
Once the dog was busy chomping its way through a piece of raw meat, Janna poured water into a basin and set about cleansing its front paws. As she suspected, the claws had been cut off without care, and the wounds were dirty and full of pus. The dog growled at her as she probed deeper. ‘Have a bone, Bones,’ she said, and hurriedly stuffed one of the cook’s soup bones into its mouth.
It dropped the bone and began to shiver and whine softly as Janna first cleansed then bound its paws with scraps of wool smeared with the cream she’d made up earlier. It seemed to sense that she was friend not foe. It even managed a feeble wag of its tail when she was done, while it wasted no time getting back to the feast she’d provided. ‘You realise I’m going to blame you for stealing this food,’ Janna told the dog as she scoffed up a cold meat pasty while she waited for it to finish eating. She was only half-jesting. Mistress Tova would be incensed when she realised what was missing.
Hastily, she drained a mug of ale to slake her thirst. ‘Come on,’ she said, feeling slightly more cheerful after her repast. She pulled on the dog’s leash once more. With a last look of longing at a ham that hung enticingly beside the cooking fire, the dog trotted after Janna, still limping slightly.
Holding on to the rope to keep the dog with her, Janna crossed the river. If Hamo wasn’t within the manor walls, neither was Edwin for he, too, would have been found in the search. With Serlo’s warning sounding in her ears, she went first to the sheep shed where once they’d taken shelter from the forester. As she’d suspected, it was empty. She peeped behind the rough wooden feeding trough, and felt a great relief when she espied the rusty sword she’d secreted there, along with Edwin’s pot and jug. If Edwin had left the manor to go adventuring, he surely would have remembered to take everything with him. Wherever he was, he couldn’t be far away. Hunger must surely drive him home, and soon.
Janna Mysteries 1 & 2 Bindup Page 37
