“So the sliver of wood from the cross of Christ?” Janna didn’t know whether to frown or laugh. “Juliana bought it from you in a bid to keep Bernard safe. Is it a genuine relic, even though it obviously didn’t work?”
“I have no reason to believe it isn’t genuine. Besides, God doesn’t always answer our prayers as we would wish.” Perhaps Ulf read the skepticism on Janna’s face. “Don’t be too quick to judge me,” he warned. “You say you’re a healer so you should know, more than anyone, that the power of prayer, of belief, can sometimes do more than any medicament or treatment to heal an affliction. If someone owns a hand, or a sliver of wood, or a scrap of fabric, and believes that it belongs to a saint or to Christ or the Virgin Mary, their comfort and ease comes from the belief that it will heal ’em, and so it often does.”
“Surely their comfort comes from their belief that whoever the relic belonged to will help make things better,” Janna corrected him.
“I acquire my relics in good faith. But I sometimes take short cuts for a good cause,” Ulf admitted.
“Such as providing the means to help Winifred gain admission to an abbey? Is that why you lied on my behalf?”
“I’m in the business of providing hope,” Ulf said. “Without my relics, people would have nowt to comfort or heal ’em, nowt at all.”
It was an effective argument, Janna conceded, as they entered the alehouse.
“I believe the figurine that Mistress Winifred is showing everyone once belonged to you?” Ralph questioned, as Janna sat beside him once more. “There seems no end to the treasures you keep in your purse! What else do you have hiding in there, mistress?” There was a teasing twinkle in his eyes, and Janna twinkled back at him.
“I’m sure you’d like to know, my lord, but I am not bound to tell you, for what I carry is my concern alone.”
“I’d like to make everything about you my concern, lady,” he said gravely.
Janna felt a quick flush of pleasure, until she looked into his laughing eyes and realized he was still teasing her. At a loss, and feeling somewhat discomfited, she raised her hand to beckon a serving wench to order some supper for herself, then quickly lowered it again as she remembered that her purse was hidden beneath her gown.
Her gesture wasn’t wasted on Ralph, however. “Would you like something to eat?” he asked and, before Janna could answer, he beckoned an attentive maid and asked for a mug of ale and a bowl of stew to be brought.
“My thanks.” Janna pointed in the direction of her purse. “I shall repay you as soon as I can,” she promised.
Ralph gave her a cheeky grin. “With what you guard so carefully under your skirt?”
Janna’s face heated with embarrassment. But she would not let him see her discomfort; she kept her head bent and said quietly, and with gentle reproof: “What’s mine is precious to me. It’s not lightly given away, not to anyone, my lord.”
“Ah, Janna.” He caught her hand. “Forgive me. I don’t mean to tease you, only to help you.” He came closer, so close that the tavern and everyone in it faded from Janna’s sight and she became conscious only of him as he leaned forward and brushed her cheek with his lips. “And you are precious to me,” he murmured. “More so, I think, than you realize.” He sat back, and reached for his mug of ale.
Janna blinked at him, wondering if it was her own wishful thinking that had conjured up what had just passed between them.
Ralph swallowed some ale, and licked his lips. “If you won’t reveal the contents of your purse, tell me instead what you learned from the good sisters in the abbey.”
Janna muttered her thanks as a bowl of stew and a spoon were placed before her, along with a brimming cup. The serving wench swung her hips and glanced flirtatiously over her shoulder at Ralph as she walked away. Janna picked up the spoon and, between mouthfuls, began to recount what she’d found out.
“You already know what I’ve discovered about my father from his letter,” she said pointedly, knowing Ralph believed she was still keeping secrets from him. “But I’m finished here in Ambresberie, because my father didn’t come from these parts. The sisters told me he was traveling with a hunting party.”
Ralph nodded thoughtfully. “How, then, did he meet your mother?”
“He was taken ill. A fever. My mother nursed him back to health at the abbey, and they fell in love.” Janna’s voice softened as she imagined how it must have been between them. “So it seems I must go on now to make my enquiries in Winchestre, for he took my mother there with him once he was recovered.”
“If your father’s who I think he is, you may well find that he’s living in Normandy now, not Winchestre.”
Janna caught her breath in surprise. “So you do know him? You know who he is?”
Ralph smiled at her. “I cannot and will not say any more. Not for the world would I raise your hopes unnecessarily. But I will do all in my power to see you united with him. You may trust me on this.”
“Oh, I will,” Janna breathed. This was more than she’d dreamed of hearing from Ralph. “And if my father’s in Normandy, I shall follow him there too,” she announced. “But you are bound for Oxeneford, Ralph, and I am sure your cousin awaits you there. I cannot ask you to go out of your way on my account.” It felt like the death of hope to say it, but she felt obliged to make the offer.
“My cousin can act on my behalf, for I have made your quest my own.” Ralph caught Janna’s hand and, before she realized what he was about, he began to kiss her fingers one by one. She quivered at the touch of his lips, so light against her skin, and so gentle. Yet she sensed the passion in the strength of his grip. She closed her eyes and gave herself to delight, swept away on a sweet flood that yet was wild and strong enough to drown her in its depths.
They sat close together, heart to heart, for some moments before Ralph finally released her hand. He stretched out his long legs and arched his back with a weary sigh. “Janna, let’s not leave for Winchestre tonight, I beg you. Tomorrow will be soon enough!”
“Tomorrow,” Janna agreed, “for tonight Winifred and I plan to ask for a bed at the abbey’s guest hall.”
“And I shall come too.” Ralph banged on the table and, in the ensuing quiet, made their intentions known. “May I suggest you all come with us? We need a good night’s rest after all the troubles and turmoil of this day.”
With relief that the day was almost done, for she was beginning to realize how exhausted she was, Janna quickly finished off the remains of the vegetable and marrow stew and left the tavern with the pilgrim party.
Chapter 9
It seemed strange to be sleeping overnight in the abbey that was once her mother’s home. Even though Janna was not in the dorter with the nuns, she remembered what offices the sisters kept, and how they were expected to behave. It stretched her imagination to think of her outspoken, courageous mother keeping the great Silence and substitute obeying the Rule. But perhaps, in her youth, Eadgyth had been devout and obedient? She had certainly cared enough, believed enough, to seek shelter here and offer her services as a healer. The nuns had said she dressed as a lay sister, and had kept the offices. This was not the mother that Janna remembered. What had happened to Eadgyth after she’d met Janna’s father had changed her forever.
Winifred was hard put to hide her excitement about being in an abbey and coming so close to the life she’d always wanted. She besieged Janna with questions about everything she saw and heard. Together, they attended Mass in the morning. Janna felt a great nostalgia as she smelled once more the spicy fragrance of incense, and heard the chanting that had been part of her mother’s life and, briefly, her own. She stood and knelt on cue, and muttered some of the responses, earning Winifred’s astonished respect as she did so.
As they filed out of the church, Janna caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. “That’s Sister Amice,” she said, grabbing Winifred’s arm and leading her at a fast trot to the friendly nun. “Speak to her first about coming to the abbey as a postulant.
She’ll listen to your plea more kindly than the abbess, and I’m sure will give you her support if she believes you are in earnest.”
“Come with me!” Winifred clutched on to Janna as they neared Sister Amice.
“No.” Janna stood her ground. “This is something you must do alone, Winifred. And don’t, whatever you do, don’t mention the hand of St James!”
“I won’t.” Winifred looked stricken at the reminder. “Wish me luck?”
Janna crossed her fingers, and held them up with a smile. “Good luck,” she said. “May God go with you, Winifred.” Now that the time had come, she felt quite sad to say goodbye – if it was goodbye. She lingered beside the chapel to make sure.
With lifted chin signaling her determination, Winifred marched over to Sister Amice. The nun looked up and caught Janna’s eye. She gave her a friendly nod, and then turned to Winifred, who had begun to speak. Janna tried to interpret what was happening. Winifred leaned forward, caught up in the passion of her plea. Sister Amice nodded, smiling. Winifred pulled the figurine from her sleeve and held it out. Sister Amice took it, looking somewhat startled. She seemed to draw back a little, and once more caught Janna’s eye. Janna stared at her, willing the nun to accept the gift in the spirit in which it was offered. As if sensing what Janna was thinking, Sister Amice bent her gaze to the figurine. She held it up and turned it around to study it more closely.
She handed it back to Winifred, and Janna’s hopes fell in disappointment on Winifred’s behalf. But Sister Amice took Winifred’s arm and, together, they walked around the corner, Winifred casting one beaming glance behind her before they vanished out of sight. Janna breathed a sigh of relief. It looked as though Winifred had passed the first hurdle on her long spiritual journey. She hurried back to the guest house to collect her staff and find Ralph.
Suddenly she realized just what it was she was proposing to do: set off to Winchestre alone in the company of a dashing and most attractive man! Her heart gave a double skip of excitement, before doubt crept in to spoil everything.
You know so little about him, she reminded herself. What if he has something else on his mind, and is using lies about your father to entrap you?
“He is honorable! That’s why he insisted that we keep company with the pilgrims for the sake of my reputation.”
So why isn’t he putting forward the same argument this time?
“Oh, shush!” Janna tried to dismiss her unease, but she was quaking with nerves as she approached Ralph. He was waiting for her among a small group of other travelers, who stood beside their horse and cart ready for departure.
“Janna!” he said, indicating the group with a sweep of his hand. “This is Master Thomas and his band of jongleurs. They are bound for Winchestre, and he has invited us to travel with them. I have accepted his kind offer, for it is more seemly for us to travel in the company of others. I hope you don’t mind?”
“No! No, not at all.” Janna beamed her relief at Ralph, then turned her smile on the jongleur. “Master Thomas,” she said gravely. “I thank you.”
Master Thomas took her hand and kissed it with an elaborate flourish. “The pleasure is ours, mistress,” he said gallantly in the language of the Normans. He released her hand with obvious reluctance. Beside him, his wife bristled with displeasure. Janna noticed Ulf standing close by with Golde and Morcar, and went across to say her farewells while Ralph fetched his palfrey from the stable.
“Are you not coming on with us, Janna?” Ulf asked.
“No.” In spite of her doubts about the relic seller, she found herself sorry to say goodbye to him. “I came to Ambresberie to seek information about my family and I must go on, now, to Winchestre. The jongleurs and…and Master Ralph have suggested I accompany them.” She felt her face grow hot under Ulf’s penetrating gaze. “I suspect you’ve also lost Winifred, for she is staying on here at the abbey,” she continued quickly. She hoped, for Winifred’s sake, that she would prove correct. She recalled the determined tilt to Winifred’s jaw, and smiled to herself. There was really no doubt in her mind about Winifred’s future. The young woman’s determination had carried her thus far, and would see her through to the end.
“You’ve lost us too, for we’ve decided to stay on here a few days more in case there’s news of Adam,” Golde announced, with a sideways glance at Morcar.
“And we’ll continue the search for that devil spawn,” Morcar added grimly.
“So that leaves just me!” Ulf hoisted his pack on his shoulders and whistled for Brutus. “I think I shall try my luck with you, Janna,” he said cheerfully. “I’m sure the good people of Winchestre will be interested to see the treasures I carry.”
Without ado, he bade Morcar and Golde a brisk farewell, and led Janna toward the jongleurs. “My name is Ulf,” he introduced himself, and bobbed his head to Master Thomas. “I deal in relics and I’m sure I shall be an asset to your company if you will allow me to travel along with you?”
“You are welcome, Ulf, so long as you can pay your own way.” Master Thomas’s dubious expression gave the lie to his greeting. And he looked positively frightened when he realized that Brutus would also be joining them.
“I have many wonders in my pack that I guarantee will open doors along our journey,” Ulf said with a bright smile, apparently not perturbed by Master Thomas’s lack of enthusiasm. “Once I attract the good folks’ interest, you may dance or sing, or whatever it is you do. I feel sure we shall all be made most welcome.”
Master Thomas looked even more skeptical. Somewhat reluctantly, he began to introduce the rest of his troupe – his wife Elanor, young son Faldo, and troupe members Nicholas and Jocelin. Elanor’s mouth pursed as she looked them over, but Nicholas and Jocelin beamed a welcome. They threw back their shoulders and sucked in their stomachs and tried altogether to make of themselves something more than they were.
Janna was flattered by their efforts on her behalf, and hoped that Ralph had noticed. He, however, was scowling at Ulf, not at all pleased that the relic seller had elected to join their party.
“Why’s he coming with us?” he mouthed at Janna, jerking a thumb in Ulf’s direction.
Janna shook her head. It was a good question, but one to which she had no answer.
Ralph’s question stayed in her mind as they followed the jongleurs past the abbey walls and out onto the track that would lead them to Winchestre. Was Ulf really so free he could alter direction at a whim, or was there some other purpose to his journey? With an effort, she set aside her misgivings and, instead, thought of their destination. For the first time since she’d set out, she was confident that she would find her father, be it in Winchestre or in Normandy. She wondered how far it was to Winchestre. How long before she stood before him and told him of her existence?
She smiled to herself as she imagined his surprise. Would he welcome her – or would she be an embarrassment to him? This question was quickly followed by others, quenching her excitement as effectively as a bucket of water thrown over a fire. Did he already have a wife? And children?
She would make him welcome her, she decided, determined to recapture her sense of happy anticipation. She would make her father love her, just as she was prepared to love him.
“What do you know of Master Ralph?” Ulf’s voice broke into Janna’s musing.
“Why, as much as you do, I suspect,” Janna said, surprised by the question. She glanced at Ralph, who was striding ahead with Master Thomas. They seemed to be sharing a joke, for they were both laughing heartily. Ralph looked content; full of energy and purpose.
“Mistress Juliana and I had a long talk after Bernard’s death, while I was escorting her to Ambresberie,” Ulf went on. “A long talk.”
Janna wasn’t quite sure what he was hinting at. “A long talk about Adam?”
“About Ralph, among other things. How far do you trust him, Janna?” Ulf’s voice was unusually serious.
“Why should I not trust him?” Janna countered. “Do you know
something about him that I don’t?”
“I know nowt for certain. What interests me is why he told us he was bound for Oxeneford, but now comes with you to Winchestre.”
“Why should you question his motives when you’re doing exactly the same thing yourself?” Janna said hotly, embarrassed that Ulf might imagine the worst about her and Ralph.
Ulf opened his mouth, but Janna didn’t give him a chance to reply. “Are you not anxious to get home to your family, Ulf? You have been away for so long.”
“I have no home and no family.”
“I thought you lived in Oxeneford?”
“No. I met the pilgrims at the tomb of St James. I decided their presence would lend me an air of respectability.” He cast a worried glance at Janna. “So you see, I am free to go where my fancy takes me – and my fancy takes me now to Winchestre. Besides, I promised Mistress Juliana that I would do my best to look after you, for she claims – ”
“I know what she claims!” Janna said harshly. A vision of Bernard’s blood-stained body flashed before her eyes. She blinked quickly to dismiss it.
“She was right to be worried.”
Janna wondered if Ulf’s advice was as kindly meant as it sounded. “It’s not what you think about me and Ralph,” she muttered, annoyed at having to explain herself. “I’m looking for my father and Ralph thinks he knows where he may be found. He’s kindly offered to come with me to Winchestre to help me look for him. That’s all.”
A skeptical expression crossed Ulf’s face. “If you’re sure there’s nowt else to it but that?”
Actually, there was a great deal more to it than that! But Janna didn’t want to share with Ulf her hope that Ralph’s real purpose in traveling with them was to be close to her just as she longed to become closer to him. He had shown himself kind. Honorable. In truth, when she was with him he stirred her senses till she burned as if with a fever. But she would not share those thoughts with anyone, least of all Ulf.
“Is there any news of Adam?” she asked, anxious to talk about something else.
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