“Here’s something that may interest you,” he told the doorkeeper. As Janna whisked through behind him and kept on going, she heard Ulf expanding on how the man’s love life would improve if only he had St Valentine’s tooth to intervene on his behalf.
“St Valentine is the patron saint of lovers,” Ulf explained, with a hearty nudge into the man’s ribs to emphasize his point. Valentine? Janna couldn’t help wondering if Ulf made up the names of the saints as well as the merits of their so-called relics.
She squared her shoulders and walked into the hall with a confident air, hoping that everyone would assume she had every right to be inside the castle, although she wasn’t quite sure what to say if questioned. Servant? Wife? Hostage? Harlot? She grinned to herself, thinking it fortunate that the castle’s occupants seemed more concerned with breaking their fast than asking her business. Servants scuttled about, busy with chores, but they paid her no mind and Janna did her best not to attract their notice. She had no idea where she was going, but thought that if this castle was anything like the castle at Sarisberie, she would probably find the earl upstairs in a private chamber. She looked about for a staircase and, finding it, ran up it as fast as she could.
The stairs opened into a solar, comfortably furnished with table, stools and a couple of chests. Dishes, food and a jug of ale were set out on the table ready for the lord to break his fast. The walls were painted with decorative scenes. Embroidered tapestries, placed to keep out the worst of the drafts, added their own bright splashes of color. The solar was empty. Janna crept forward and cautiously peered into the room beyond. There seemed no-one there either and so she stepped inside, curious to see what a lord’s bedchamber looked like.
“You! What are you doing in here?” A man dropped the straw pallets he was busy stacking and sprang out in front of her, barring her way. “How dare you enter the earl’s private quarters.”
“I beg your pardon, sire.” Janna answered him in Norman French, as befitted the occasion. She dropped a meek curtsy, all the while staring at the huge bed that dominated the room. She gave an envious sigh as she noted the luxurious hangings that partly shrouded the feather bolster at its head, the puffed mattress, the fine white linen sheets and blue- and red-dyed coverings. Truly, one would sleep soundly every night in such a bed!
“Go on, get out of here!” The earl’s manservant grasped her arm and gave her a push. But Janna gathered her scattered wits together.
“I have urgent news for my lord, the Earl of Gloucestre,” she said, resisting the manservant’s efforts to get rid of her. “I must talk to him without delay.”
“I don’t know how you gained entrance to my lord’s chamber.” The manservant still had Janna’s arm in his hard grasp. “But you can get out again right now.”
“Oh, leave the young woman be, Joss.” The voice came from a side opening in the wall. A man stepped out of the garderobe, adjusting the elaborately embroidered cuffs on his sleeves. Like his half-sister, his hair was dark and Janna noted that he also had the same dark brown eyes as he surveyed her with a quizzical expression. Robert, Earl of Gloucestre, half-brother of the Empress Matilda. He was alive, unharmed, and free.
Janna felt a great relief as she sank deep into another curtsy. She waited for the earl to give her permission to rise. His eyes had widened at the sight of her, but he said nothing, merely stuck out a hose-clad foot. His manservant hastily produced a pair of leather shoes with pointed toes and knelt before him. The earl continued to scrutinize Janna as his shoes were strapped to his feet and fastened at his ankles with silver buckles. Janna began to feel increasingly uncomfortable under his gaze. She was deeply conscious of her travel-stained, mud-spattered gown, and suspected she was only moments away from eviction.
“My name is Janna, my lord,” she said quickly, anxious to explain her presence in the earl’s chambers. “Johanna,” she amended, thinking her proper name more impressive. She stood up, frightened that she’d overbalance and fall over if she stayed in a curtsy for too much longer.
“And you have urgent news for me?” There was an expression of disbelief on the earl’s face as he continued to inspect her closely. “Who are you?” he demanded unexpectedly.
“Johanna, my lord.” Janna’s heart sank. If the earl was so witless he couldn’t even remember her name from one instant to the next, what chance did she have of convincing him of the bishop’s treachery? “I am nobody important,” she hurried on, “but I was traveling with a group of pilgrims recently. We came across a dead man in possession of a message written by the Bishop of Winchestre.”
The earl’s disbelief was replaced by an expression of utter incredulity. “Yes?” he said cautiously.
“The man had met his death through an accident, no more than that. But the message was addressed to the bishop’s brother. The king.”
“You may leave us, Joss.” The earl waited until they were alone before gesturing to Janna to continue. She couldn’t tell whether or not he believed what she was telling him as she hurried through her explanation. She could only trust that he wasn’t too stupid to understand that the bishop had been against the empress right from the start and that he would know what to do about it.
But the earl surprised her with his grasp of the situation. “I already know the contents of the letter,” he said, after she expressed her fear that it hadn’t yet reached him. “Walter brought it to my chamber last evening past.”
Janna sagged with relief, releasing tense muscles she hadn’t realized were strained so tight. Walter had reached the earl first in spite of Ralph’s pursuit! But the danger was by no means over. Once Ralph told the bishop what had happened, he would know then that his treachery was betrayed and that he must act to protect himself. She must warn the earl, and Walter too, that the bishop’s plot was uncovered and his agent on their trail.
Not brave enough to interrupt the earl, she forced herself to patience as he continued. “Walter told me he’d ridden hard to bring the message to me without delay and to beat the curfew, but he did not say where he’d come from, or who had given him the message. So I thank you, Johanna, for coming to see me yourself. Tell me, how do you know what Bishop Henry said in his letter?”
Janna gulped. She had no idea what the punishment was for reading a letter not intended for her eyes, even though she’d done it with the best of intentions. “Er…” She scratched around for a likely excuse. “Er…”
To her relief, the earl didn’t wait for her answer. “And why should you suspect that something might have happened to Walter along the way to prevent him from bringing it to me?”
A sudden understanding of what she’d unleashed fell on Janna’s shoulders with a force that almost crushed her. She lifted her chin and tried to summon up the courage to answer him truthfully. She hadn’t given enough thought to the consequences of speaking so freely, and now she was trapped for, if she told the earl what he wanted to know, she would at the same time condemn to death the traitor who had promised to help her find her father.
“A stranger joined our pilgrim group some time after we encountered the dead man and found the message. The stranger told us he was a pilgrim and he traveled with us thereafter,” she began, wishing that she did not have to go on. But the earl was waiting for an explanation. If she did not give it, he and Walter might fall into a trap and meet their deaths because of it.
“His name is Ralph de Otreburne,” she continued reluctantly. The earl gave a slight nod. It seemed he’d heard the name before. “Walter questioned if I knew of him. I suspect he believes that his brother may have died at Ralph’s hand.”
“Has this Ralph de Otreburne come in pursuit of Walter? Is that why you feared something might have happened to Walter along the way?”
“Yes, my lord.” Janna would have given just about anything not to have to answer the earl’s questions.
“And how does he know that Walter has the message?”
“He – he found out.” Janna flushed with angry shame.
“As soon as he realized that I’d given Master Walter the message and that he was bound for Winchestre, he set off in pursuit.”
“Then we must warn Walter that the bishop’s agent is looking for him,” the earl agreed.
“Yes, but there is also danger to yourself, sire,” Janna pointed out.
“Yes, indeed.” The earl nodded thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving Janna’s face. She shifted her weight from one foot to another, not sure if she should go now or wait to be dismissed. Or did the earl want to interrogate her further?
He summoned his manservant then, who at once fumbled in his purse and drew out several silver coins. Janna put her hands behind her back and stepped away. She didn’t expect to be rewarded, and was embarrassed that the earl could think that was the reason behind her warning.
“Take it,” the earl advised. “You’ve earned it. And have no fear, mistress. I haven’t been idle since learning of the bishop’s treachery. I had intended to visit him today and force him to sign a public declaration of support for my sister, so buying time while I return to Oxeneford to muster our troops. After what you’ve told me, I must rethink this situation. But you need have no concern for Walter. He will be warned of the peril he faces from this Ralph de Otreburne. The bishop’s agent will be found and brought to trial for treason, as well as for the murder of Walter’s brother. Tell me, has Walter met this man? Can he identify him for me?”
“Master Walter has seen him only once, sire. I don’t know if he would recognize him again.” Janna knew she should volunteer to help look for Ralph, but every instinct screamed against it. Although angry at Ralph’s betrayal, she quailed at the thought of him in chains, facing torture and death.
“But you must know the bishop’s agent well, for you say he traveled with you for a time. So I would ask you to keep company with Walter, and ensure his safety until he leaves Winchestre. Come with me.” Without waiting for a reply, the earl set off toward the stairs, snatching the coins from his manservant as he passed. These he thrust directly into Janna’s hand. Not daring to defy him, she slipped them up her sleeve for safekeeping. Thirty pieces of silver, she thought, hating what the earl had asked her to do. With all her heart she wished that she could find a way out of it.
“Where is your home, Johanna?” the earl asked, as he led the way down the stairs to find Walter.
“I come from Berford, near the Forest of Gravelinges, sire. My mother was a wortwyf there. A herb wife,” Janna amended, in case the earl didn’t understand the language of the Saxons.
“And who is your father?”
Janna blushed scarlet, ashamed to tell him the truth. Yet she wasn’t brave enough to lie to an earl. “I know not, sire,” she admitted, shame-faced.
He swung to face her. She could read the questions in his eyes. He seemed about to say something, then checked himself and shrugged. He walked on, with Janna following him. She wanted to ask him what action he would take against the bishop, but dared not. It was with difficulty that she held her tongue.
“Walter!” The earl’s bellow brought everyone in the hall instantly to attention. Janna looked about but could not see Walter among the crowd. She was relieved to note that most of the hall’s occupants were soldiers all still breaking their fast. It seemed that the earl had brought with him a sizeable guard.
“Walter!” the earl bellowed again, when no-one came forward in answer to his summons. He began to move between the soldiers, peering about for the missing man. “He was here last night,” he said over his shoulder to Janna.
Was Walter hiding for some reason? She felt sick as she suddenly recalled Juliana’s anxious foreboding. Where was Walter, if not already dead, and by Ralph’s hand?
“Get yourselves ready and wait for my instructions,” the earl commanded. “And you!” He beckoned one of the soldiers forward. “Raise the cry after one Ralph de Otreburne, for he is guilty of murder and must pay the price for it. What does he look like?” He swung around to confront Janna.
Janna had thought she felt as bad as it was possible to feel. But she was wrong. This was much, much worse. She had to choose between condemning a man to death, a man whom she’d thought she might love, and who might lead her to her father, or ensuring the safety of the empress, the earl, and the future of the kingdom. And yes, also avenging the death of Bernard. Whatever choice she made, she would have to live with the consequences. Yet she knew that the choice had already been made, and that the consequences would tear her apart and bring to ruin all her hopes for the future.
Janna wanted to run away and pretend that none of this was happening. She struggled to control her emotions. Ralph had betrayed her and now she, in turn, was about to betray him. She was under no illusion about what she was being asked to do: give the earl’s men a description so that they could hunt Ralph down, try him and kill him. It took all of her strength to speak, to force the words of betrayal from a throat gone dry and aching with grief.
“He wears a dark green cloak, my lord, and a red linen tunic with embroidery here, here and there.” She indicated her neck, sleeves and hem. “He wears fitted breeches and fine leather boots. His hair is long and fair, and his eyes are blue. He has a mustache.” She raised her hand to stroke her upper lip, indicating its shape and size. “And a short beard.”
“I see you know him well,” the earl said dryly, twisting the knife deeper into Janna’s heart. The soldiers smirked as they looked at her. She wished, suddenly and desperately, that it was within her power to click her fingers and just disappear.
The earl turned back to his men, who instantly stiffened to attention under his steely gaze. “Get out and look for Ralph de Otreburne,” he barked. “If he couldn’t reach the bishop last night, it may be that we can still intercept him. Also watch out for Walter, and warn him that he was followed to Winchestre. He’ll know what to do. Be ready to wait on me at noon, when I myself will call on the bishop. We’ll leave Winchestre straight afterward.”
He turned and jerked his head, indicating to Janna that she should precede him from the hall. “I will also send the castle servants out to look for Walter,” he told her, not troubling to disguise his concern. “May I suggest that you accompany them, mistress?”
“I will gladly go in search of Master Walter, my lord,” Janna agreed, “but please, will you give me leave to go straightaway? Every moment’s delay is a moment wasted.” Should she look for Ralph as well as Walter? She felt sickened by what she’d just done. But if she saw him, what then? Could she warn him that the cry had been raised against him? Her stomach churned, her heart and mind were twisted with indecision.
“Very well, you may go.”
The earl was about to stride away when Janna’s concern for his safety got the better of her.
“My lord,” she said impulsively, and then stopped, overcome by the enormity of her folly. He paused, and gave her an enquiring look. Janna had no option but to brazen it out. “The bishop. You cannot trust him, my lord! Once he finds out that his treachery is known, you’ll be in the gravest danger, for he won’t change sides, no matter what he might tell you. If you call on him this noon, you run the risk that he’ll act against you, for he’ll have nothing to lose and everything to gain if he can take you prisoner.”
“Do you think I’m too stupid to have worked that out for myself?” The earl’s face darkened into fury. Yet something stopped him from berating her for her unwanted advice. Janna watched as his eyes narrowed into careful scrutiny once more. “Who are you?” he asked again.
“Johanna, sire.” Janna was getting a little tired of this.
“You remind me…”
Janna waited for him to say the empress’s name, and had her explanation ready on her lips.
“Of my father,” the earl said unexpectedly.
“My lord?” Janna lifted one eyebrow, hardly feeling flattered to be compared to a man, even if he was a king!
The earl grinned. “A trick of the light,” he said. “You are exceedingly impertinent
, Johanna, but you interest me greatly. And you haven’t yet told me how you know what the bishop said in his letter.”
Janna groaned inwardly. “I read it, sire,” she confessed.
“You can read?” The earl stared at her. Janna wanted to run, to escape the wrath she was sure was about to fall on her head. She took a deep breath, and stood her ground. “I spent a year in an abbey, sire. Wiltune Abbey.” She’d already said too much, so she might as well go all the way. “I saw your half-sister there, sire,” she said. “The Empress Matilda. I was thought to resemble her as well.” That would teach him to compare her to the old king!
“By God, so you do,” he said softly, and stepped closer.
“I admire her greatly, sire, and I would do anything to help her onto the throne.” Janna was sure now that she had gone too far, and that the earl’s fury would blow her away. But he stood silent for a moment, still watching her.
“We may well call on you to honor that promise, one day,” he said quietly. “But for now I have other things on my mind, including your warning about the bishop. I shall see what he has to say for himself. And I shall call him to account, you may be sure of it. But I shall also have my soldiers at my back to guard me while I do so.”
With a curt farewell, he strode off, leaving Janna to find her own way out of the castle. She almost flew out of the hall, so great was her relief at escaping unscathed. Agitation mingled with exhilaration. She had stood up to an earl, and had lived to tell the tale! She couldn’t wait to tell Ulf what she’d done.
But what had she done? Condemned Ralph to be hunted like an animal, hunted and put to death. Crushing guilt and sorrow returned like a dead weight. Her shoulders slumped under the burden of her distress.
Chapter 14
Pilgrim of Death: The Janna Chronicles 4 Page 23