Janna Mysteries 1 & 2 Bindup

by Felicity Pulman

  ‘Very well,’ he said curtly. ‘I shall speak to Serlo. I shall make sure he knows you are innocent and must be left free. But for all your faith in Edwin, I will speak to him myself. I will find out the truth.’ He hoisted himself back into the saddle. ‘You will bring him to me tonight, Johanna, in secret if you wish. There is no need for the travellers to see him. But you must make him come or I shall believe the worst of him and then not only the travellers but the whole shire will be looking for him. He will be caught, he will be tried in my manorial court and, if necessary, I shall have him hanged.’

  Janna gulped, knowing from Hugh’s tone that he meant every word of his threat. ‘There’s something else you should know, sire,’ she said, in a small voice.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Master Serlo locked me up in a barn, but I … I managed to escape.’

  ‘And how did you do that?’ In spite of Hugh’s grave expression, Janna thought she detected the hint of a reluctant smile about his mouth.

  ‘I cut through the thatch at the top of a wall. There’s a bit of a hole there now.’

  Hugh clicked his tongue in disapproval. ‘I believe I’ve underestimated you in the past, Johanna,’ he said then, ‘but I won’t make the same mistake twice. And I’ll make sure that Serlo doesn’t either.’ He dug his heels into the horse’s flank and it took off across the water meadows. Janna watched the horse and its rider cross the river and head for the manor house. She had no chance of keeping up with Hugh, but for all that, she must follow after him in case he led her to Hamo. The idea that he might have had a hand in his cousin’s disappearance disgusted and repelled her. She so desperately wanted to trust him, yet she could not get past the thought that, with Hamo out of the way, Hugh would be Dame Alice’s sole heir. He would be free to marry anyone then – including Gytha. Janna’s mouth turned down in a sour grimace at the thought.

  Her mood, as she followed him across the water meadows, was not improved by the memory of Hugh’s last injunction. How was she going to persuade Edwin to come out of hiding and face him? He would think she had betrayed him, and in truth, Janna felt as though she had, although Hugh had given her no choice in the matter. With a heavy heart, she wondered what she could say that might make Edwin trust Hugh’s word, and change his mind about staying hidden.

  Trust Hugh’s word! She tripped over the thought, and almost laughed at the bitter irony of it. It seemed disaster awaited them all, whichever way she looked.

  She was almost at the manor house when she heard the distant sound of hoofbeats. She stopped to look behind her, and her heart turned over when she saw Godric. Surprisingly, for she had not known that he could ride, he was mounted and coming her way. As he rode closer, his face set so cold and hard against her, she knew that she was not forgiven. She looked beyond, to the party riding behind him. In front were Robert of Babestoche and, beside him, Dame Alice, his wife. The dame had a kerchief to her eyes; they were scrubbed red and raw from crying. At once Janna looked down to hide her face from them. She stepped quickly out of the party’s way. Her heart went out to the mother of the missing child, knowing how frightened she must feel, and how bitter her grief would be if her only son had come to harm. Silently, desperately, she prayed that Hamo would be found alive. She also prayed that Godric would not blurt out her secret.

  To her relief, and also to her shame, Godric ignored her. He rode past her, taking Dame Alice, Robert, their small entourage of servants and the laden sumpter horses on towards the manor. None of them spared a second glance at Janna, but she was shaking with fright and reaction as she stared after them. Robert of Babestoche here at the manor! She could hardly believe that the man who had wished her dead, who had incited the villagers against her and stopped at nothing to bring his wish to fruition, was now within reach. She groaned aloud as she recalled all those who could bear witness against her, if they had the mind to do so. Cecily would hold her tongue, she was sure of that, but would Godric? Or Hugh? Or Hamo, who was just a child and could know nothing of discretion?

  She remembered then, and with a heavy sense of despair, that Hamo was not around to blurt out the truth. But she was still in danger and so she must hurry to those who might, albeit unwittingly, spell her doom with a careless word. She must warn them, for her sake, to be silent. She would start with Hugh, who didn’t understand the danger in speaking her name aloud to his aunt. She would start with Hugh, in the hope that he would lead her to Hamo.

  THE GROOM WAS leading away the mounts ridden by Godric and his party, but there was no sign of them, or of Hugh, when Janna entered through the gate. She hurried up the stairs to the hall and, greatly daring, pushed the door open a crack and peeped through.

  Alarm took her breath away. Hugh was in there already, along with his guests. Cecily was also in attendance, red-eyed and shamefaced. Only Gytha seemed to be enjoying herself as she plied them all with refreshments. Janna scowled at the young woman before turning to Cecily. How could she catch the tiring woman’s eye, and ask her to pass on the warning to Hugh not to divulge her identity? Impatient and perturbed, she jiggled and bobbed about in an effort to attract Cecily’s attention. At last Cecily looked her way. Her eyes widened in surprise. Janna beckoned to her, then stepped hastily back out of sight.

  ‘Janna! What are you doing here?’

  ‘I escaped. But never mind that now. You have to warn my lord Hugh not to tell Dame Alice or Robert that I’ve survived the fire.’

  Cecily frowned. ‘But what reason shall I give for such secrecy?’ she asked nervously.

  Janna was silenced. Cecily’s secret couldn’t be told, but without that truth nothing else made much sense. ‘I’ve already told him that there are some who wish me harm,’ she said at last. ‘Could you just remind him of that, and ask him to keep my true identity a secret from everyone, including his own family?’

  ‘Very well.’ Cecily gave a reluctant nod. To Janna’s relief, she set off at once and, without ado, bobbed a curtsy to the dame and then drew Hugh aside. At once Janna shut the door and escaped down the stairs and into the yard. Bertha ran over to her.

  ‘You shouldn’t be here, Janna,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Serlo’s told everyone you’re a thief on the run. Edwin too. People are out looking for both of you now, as well as Hamo.’ In her agitation, she’d grasped hold of Janna’s sleeve. She clutched onto Janna, her face tight with distress.

  ‘Don’t fret, mistress. And don’t make a scene and attract attention our way.’ Janna gently disengaged Bertha’s fingers. ‘I’ve spoken to my lord Hugh and he knows I am innocent, and Edwin too, but he still wants to see him tonight, in secret if necessary. If Edwin wants to stay here at the manor, you’ll have to persuade him to come out of hiding. Do you understand?’

  To Janna’s relief, Bertha nodded. It was one hurdle out of the way. ‘Have you been watching Gytha? What have you seen?’

  Bertha drew a quivering breath. Janna knew her fear and distress was on Edwin’s account, not her own. She waited for Bertha to compose herself.

  ‘Gytha spent part of the morning out with a search party. She stayed with them all the time and only came back to the manor when she saw my lord Hugh return. She’s upstairs with him now.’ Bertha’s eyes brightened with sudden amusement, her good humour almost restored as she continued, ‘I was following Gytha as you told me, and I heard my lord tell her to make herself useful for once, and prepare some refreshments for his family. I must say he didn’t sound very loving, or even very friendly.’

  Janna stood still while she absorbed Bertha’s information. ‘You’ve done well,’ she said slowly. ‘Will you keep on watching?’ She was fairly sure Bertha was wasting her time, but if she told her so, Janna knew the girl’s suspicions might move on to a far more likely prospect. Besides, she might have misjudged Gytha, underestimated her pride and her ambition. The thought of Gytha’s guilt was some consolation to Janna, even if she couldn’t quite believe in it.

  Bertha nodded, and walked back to keep watch on the st
airs leading up to the hall. She flicked a hand in farewell, and Janna returned the gesture. She wondered what she should do while Hugh was engaged with his guests. Every instinct prompted her to join in the search, but she was sure there was no point to it, for if Hamo was going to be found, he would have been found already. Rather than rush around pointlessly, Janna decided instead to follow the leads she’d come up with, in the hope that Hamo’s whereabouts might become clear to her. She could only pray that she would find him in time to save his life.

  She could start by looking for Hamo’s ball. As she began a careful search of the yard, she wondered if it was still there to be found. Even if Hamo had left his ball lying around, it was quite possible one of the young searchers she’d previously encountered in the barn had already made off with it. Hamo’s ball was a prize worth having, being made of leather stuffed with dried beans, rather than the straw-filled pig’s bladder that was the usual plaything of urchins. Without much hope, she poked and pried about bush and barn, and came at last to the reluctant conclusion that the urchins must indeed have found the ball first, for her careful search revealed no trace of it at all. Either it had been stolen, or Hamo had taken it away with him. It occurred to Janna then that there was still one place left for her to search. At the same time, perhaps she could also solve the mystery of the disappearing dog?

  She hurried across to the kitchen garden, and peered behind the barrels where she’d first spotted Bones in hiding. She chided herself for being fanciful as her keen eyes scoured the area and found nothing. Disconsolate, she looked around the neat garden with its rows of herbs and vegetables, an abundance of food which brought juices seeping into her mouth when she remembered her scant breakfast.

  She walked past a large bush of rue, and stopped to search for any signs of who might have been picking posies from it. Perhaps there was a footprint, or even something dropped which might help her identify the culprit. A pale glimmer deep within the foliage caught her eye, and she plunged her hand into the bush to investigate.

  ‘Yes!’ She seized Hamo’s prized treasure with a shout of triumph. As she held the ball aloft, her spirits took a sudden nosedive for she understood now, without any doubt at all, that Hamo’s disappearance was linked to what had gone before. It was a deliberate act by someone who wished him harm.

  Hugh, she thought, with an ache of sadness that wrenched her heart. She must stick by him, tight as resin to a tree. Sooner or later, he would lead her to his cousin. She left the kitchen garden and positioned herself at the side of the barn where she could see but not be seen. There was nothing for it, now, but to watch and wait until Hugh emerged from the hall and went about his business once more.

  Her feet were tired and her spirit weary from watching when Hugh finally clattered down the stairs from the hall. He was accompanied by Godric. They stood together, conferring, while Janna fumed impatiently. She desperately wanted to tell Godric what was on her mind, and enlist his help in tracking down Hamo, but she could not while Hugh was present. Of course it was quite possible, she conceded as she watched them part, that Godric would not speak to her. She could waste time with him instead of going after her prime suspect. Who, then, should she follow?

  Caution won. She followed Hugh, even though she was sure Godric had seen her. He would think she was running after Hugh. It would turn him even further against her. She longed to speak to him, to try to explain, but she could not. Not when Hugh might be on his way to check up on Hamo even now. So she skulked about watching Hugh, ducking for cover behind walls and trees every time he looked around in case he spotted her.

  He seemed in no hurry to join the search for Hamo, going first to the kitchen where he spent some time. When he came out, he was followed by Serlo. They spoke a few moments longer, and then Serlo strode off while Hugh went into the kitchen garden. Janna sidled after him, and watched him pull an apple from the tree. The apples were still not quite ripe and she suspected he was about to give himself a bellyache, but he made no attempt to eat it, walking instead towards the stable. Janna felt a sudden leap of hope. Could Hamo be hidden somewhere inside? She broke cover to creep after Hugh and took shelter in a stall while she waited for her eyes to become accustomed to the dim light.

  ‘Johanna. Why are you following me about the manor?’ Hugh’s voice sounded weary and impatient. A hot blush flamed Janna’s cheeks as she stumbled reluctantly from her hiding place.

  ‘I … I …’ She could think of no excuse that might explain her actions.

  He stroked the horse’s nose while he waited. The silence between them lengthened to snapping point. It was Hugh who gave in first. ‘Was there something you wanted to say to me?’

  Yes! But Janna was afraid to ask the questions that tumbled into her mind, for Hugh would know then that she suspected him of abducting Hamo.

  ‘I … I wanted to change Arrow’s dressing,’ she muttered.

  At once, Hugh lifted the horse’s hoof so that she might inspect it, gentling the horse all the while. Watching him, Janna found it impossible to believe him responsible for deliberately injuring the animal, or for carrying out any of the other acts that had plagued the manor. He loved Arrow – just as Janna was sure he loved his cousin Hamo, as well as the manor that had been entrusted to his care. Janna knew Hugh to be kind, and she had thought that he was honourable. Gytha might not be quite so honourable, but Janna doubted she had either the resourcefulness or the will to snatch Hamo and bring about all the ‘accidents’ that had gone before, or even the wit to think of leaving posies of rue to mark what she was doing. But if not Hugh, or Gytha, then who?

  Once again, something niggled at her memory. Was there something she’d overlooked, had someone said something that might shed new light on the people who lived and worked here?

  Rue for repentance, rue for regret. But Eadgyth had said it could also be used to curse an enemy.

  The significance of everything that had happened at the manor suddenly shifted and began to change, forming a different pattern altogether. And with the new pattern came an unexpected name. Perplexed, wishing she had time to sift her thoughts and make some sense of them, Janna bent to the task of removing the dressing. ‘The wound is healing well, my lord,’ she said, ‘but you should not ride Arrow for a while yet.’

  Hugh nodded. He produced the apple and held it out to Arrow. ‘Don’t forget I want to see Edwin tonight,’ he said, over the sound of the horse’s happy crunching. ‘I’ve been speaking to Master Serlo, and I want some answers from you both. Too many accidents have been happening lately, seemingly without any explanation. There were no accidents until you and Edwin arrived at the manor.’

  ‘We arrived at the manor before you did, sire. There were no accidents until you came home from Babestoche Manor.’ Janna knew she was taking a risk, but perhaps it might provoke Hugh to deal honestly if he thought others suspected that his might be the hand behind all the incidents. And if he was innocent, as she was beginning to suspect he might be, then the more he could tell her, the closer they might come to understanding the reason for Hamo’s disappearance. Feeling a little fearful, she kept her head bent while she replaced Arrow’s dressing and waited for Hugh’s reaction.

  He went very still. ‘What do you mean by that?’ His tone rasped harshly.

  Janna stood her ground, not allowing herself to be intimidated by him. ‘I mean nothing by it, sire,’ she said, in as respectful a tone as she could muster. ‘You and Master Serlo seem to hold Edwin and me responsible for the troubles here. I’m only pointing out a fact in our defence.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Hugh inspected her closely. Janna flushed more deeply under his scrutiny, all too conscious of the rough smock and breeches that she wore. Automatically, her hand went to her hair, to smooth and tidy it. It was a shock to feel only stubble under her hands. Hugh lifted a sardonic eyebrow, understanding only too well her unconscious attempt to remind him that she had once been beautiful.

  ‘Do you know anything about these accidents, Johanna, any
thing at all?’ he asked in a more conciliatory tone.

  Janna hesitated, then made up her mind. If she was going to defend herself and Edwin, and test him at the same time, she might as well do it properly, she thought. ‘I know that a posy of rue has been left at the site of every mishap.’

  ‘Rue?’ She could have sworn his surprise was genuine, along with his question: ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that a posy of rue was left at the henhouse at the time the fox got in, and another was found beside the lamb that was slaughtered. I found a posy of rue near the byre after the animals escaped and destroyed the new wheat, and there was also a posy attached to the haystack next to the one that was fired. I found rue at the stable door on the day Arrow’s shoe worked loose and the nail went into his hoof and … and I saw a posy of rue at the door of the undercroft, from where the woollen cloth and silver goblets were stolen.’

  ‘And where are they now, these posies of rue?’ Hugh sounded thoroughly bewildered.

  ‘I … I was afraid that Edwin and I would be blamed for all that was going wrong, and so I destroyed them,’ Janna confessed.

  ‘You’ve told me lies in the past, Johanna. Why should I believe you now?’

  And why should I believe you know nothing about what I’m telling you, Janna thought in turn. ‘Because it’s the truth, sire,’ she said instead. ‘I told lies in the past because I had to protect myself, but I have no need to tell lies about what’s been happening here. Neither does Edwin. He likes it here, he wants to stay, he’s told me so himself. Why should he try to destroy something when it is the means to his escape from his lord as well as his future livelihood?’