Stolen Child: The Janna Chronicles 2

by Felicity Pulman

  He held tight to a piece of rope attached to a mangy dog. All skin and bones, with matted fur, it now limped over to sniff around Janna’s toes. She scrambled away, her alarm increasing as she took in Hamo’s companions with a quick glance. They were just coming through the gate; there was no sign of Hamo’s elderly and disapproving nurse. In her place, and still some distance away, came Cecily and…Godric?

  Janna blinked and peered more closely. Yes, there was no mistake. It seemed that Hamo had found himself a new nurse, as well as a guide to bring him through the forest. With an effort, she tore her gaze away from Cecily’s sturdy escort to meet the boy’s questioning gaze.

  “I know you,” he announced firmly. “You’re—”

  “My name is John,” Janna said gruffly, too alarmed by his unexpected arrival to worry about rudely interrupting the young lord of the manor. Her alarm increased as she noted Cecily’s steps quicken to protect her charge. Although Cecily knew Janna hadn’t died in the fire, she’d been sworn to secrecy. Would she keep the secret even now? And Godric, how could she face him? He had protected her so loyally, but he didn’t know the truth, for she’d stayed hidden when he came looking for her. Her decision had seemed sensible at the time but now she could feel only shame over her behavior toward him.

  “My name is John,” she said again more firmly, and jumped to her feet, desperate to escape before anyone could challenge her identity. She’d forgotten about the dog. Startled by her sudden movement, it sank its teeth into her boot and hung on, growling.

  “Get your dog off me, Hamo,” she ordered.

  “Bones!” Hamo dropped the rope. He tried to force the dog’s teeth apart, but it growled and sank them deeper.

  “Be careful! Mind he doesn’t bite you,” Janna said, automatically protective.

  “Godric will help. He brought us through the forest and he found Bones. He’ll know what to do.” And before Janna had a chance to protest, Hamo turned and shouted the villein’s name. There was nothing else for her to do then but wait for the shame of discovery.

  “Bones! Let go!” Godric arrived in a burst of speed. He didn’t look at Janna. All his attention was on the dog as he bent and firmly prized open its jaw. Janna felt the pressure ease, and wondered if she still had time to make a run for it. But Hamo had grabbed hold of her hand.

  “This is John,” he said gravely, holding on tight. She had no choice but to stand still and face Godric.

  “Thank you for getting the dog off me,” she said faintly.

  His eyes widened. He said nothing, but he went pale. Janna knew she would never forget the look on his face as he studied her intently. Confusion gave way to elation, which immediately darkened into anger and rejection. He scowled at her, and turned away. Cecily had reached them, and she took in the situation in one quick glance.

  “Janna! What are you doing here?”

  Godric still said nothing. Janna tried to find the words to explain why she’d acted as she had, and to tell him what was in her heart. She ached for his understanding, but she could think of nothing to say that would make the situation any easier. Stricken mute, she looked down at the ground.

  “Janna?” Hamo queried.

  “There you are, John! I’ve brought your dinner.” Edwin had come dashing into the yard, and he hailed Janna as soon as he spied her. As he noticed the tableau beside the well, his footsteps slowed.

  With a muttered exclamation, Godric pushed past them, moving at speed toward the gate.

  “Godric! Wait!” Janna said urgently. “I can explain—”

  He ignored her and increased his pace. The dog took off after him, moving as fast as its maimed paws would allow.

  “Bones! Come back!” Hamo tried to grab hold of the rope trailing behind his pet, but Cecily grasped him and hauled him back.

  “You must stay with me, Hamo,” she said firmly, and looked at Edwin. “Who is he?” she asked Janna.

  A short silence followed Cecily’s question, before Edwin cheerfully gave her his name. “I am John’s elder brother, mistress,” he added by way of explanation, and sketched a bow. Still no-one said anything, Janna because she was incapable of speech and Cecily because she was utterly confused. Edwin’s worried glance moved between them both, and then he looked after Godric’s disappearing figure. His frown deepened.

  Cecily’s glance followed his. “Over here, sire!” She hailed a couple of strangers who were just coming through the gate. Seemingly Godric had guided the men through the forest along with Hamo and Cecily, for one of them put a hand on Godric’s arm to restrain him. The other fumbled a coin from his purse but by the time he held it out, Godric had pushed past the pair and was gone.

  In answer to Cecily’s call they surrendered their mounts, including several heavily laden sumpter horses, to the waiting groom and paused to give instructions. As the groom led the horses away, Janna noticed that one of them had cast a shoe and was walking awkwardly.

  “Shearing’s started. I have to get back,” Edwin said hurriedly. “You’d better come too, John, or you’ll feel the sharp edge of Serlo’s tongue.” He thrust the sack of food at Janna and disappeared around the side of a barn.

  “John? Doesn’t he know who you really are?” Cecily asked.

  Janna sighed. “Yes, of course he does. And so does the lord Hugh.” At the mention of Hugh’s name, Cecily gave Janna a questioning glance, but she didn’t say anything. “I met Edwin while I was lost in Gravelinges,” Janna continued. “He…” She was about to tell Cecily the truth of what had happened, but stopped herself in time. This was Edwin’s secret, not hers, and his safety depended on her keeping it. “He’s from Wales and we’re going to seek work in Winchestre,” she said instead, wishing there was no need to lie to Cecily, or anyone else. She was sick and tired of telling lies, of having to hide the truth. “We decided to travel together but, by greatest misfortune, we found work and shelter on this farm not knowing that it belongs to the lord Hugh.”

  “To Dame Alice,” Cecily said.

  “But he manages the demesne for his aunt.”

  “Yes, that is why we are here.” Cecily nodded thoughtfully. “After the lord left Babestoche, Hamo fretted so much that Dame Alice decided to let him come here for a short visit.”

  “How is my lady? Is she quite recovered from…” Janna wasn’t sure how to phrase the question, but Cecily answered readily enough.

  “In truth, my lady still grieves over the death of her infant son. She is low in spirits and in health. She told me it would relieve her mind greatly to think that Hamo is here and happy with his cousin.”

  Janna surveyed the tiring woman, thinking it also a shrewd move on Dame Alice’s part to remove Cecily from her husband’s influence. Too much harm had already resulted from Robert’s untoward interest in Cecily. Janna wondered how much Dame Alice suspected about their past liaison.

  Cecily caught her hand. “I know I said I would stay and watch out for my lady,” she whispered, “but I had no choice when she asked me to accompany Hamo. His own nurse is too old to make the journey and besides, Dame Alice believes Hamo needs someone closer to his own age to take care of him and amuse him now.”

  “I shouldn’t worry about my lady’s safety,” Janna consoled her. “That is, unless Robert has turned his affection to another young woman in your household?”

  “No.” Cecily gave Janna a rueful smile. “I think he has learned his lesson—as have I.”

  “Then Dame Alice is in no danger, for Lord Robert will be trying to convince her that he has always had her best interests in his heart.”

  “Pray God that you are right.” Cecily turned from Janna, and swept a hasty curtsy. “My lords,” she said, greeting the two strangers who were now almost upon them. “I trust you are not too weary after your journey? If you will come with me, I will take you to meet the lord Hugh, Dame Alice’s nephew.” She turned away from Janna.

  “I’ll see about finding the dog, mistress. And the young lord,” Janna said quickly.


  “Hamo?” Cecily’s hand came to her mouth. “I didn’t see him go! Where is he?”

  “I’ll look for him, mistress.” Leaving Cecily to take care of Hugh’s visitors, Janna set off to search the manor grounds, bringing with her the sack of food that Edwin had thrust at her. She was hungry and so, she was willing to wager, were the dog and its master. If shouting didn’t bring them into view, a sack of food well might.

  Chapter 8

  “Hamo! Hamo, where are you?” Janna had searched the kitchen garden and orchard, as well as the undercroft and all the barns, workshops and other buildings that made up the manor’s demesne. She’d even gone upstairs to peek unobtrusively into the hall, to make sure that he was not among the throng gathered around Hugh. Gytha was there, she noted with a pang of envy, as she watched the beauty circulating among the guests, pouring wine into goblets and offering platters of food.

  Hamo was nowhere to be seen, and Janna was growing anxious. The manor was close to the stream and river. Could Hamo swim? She hurried downstairs and peered first into the well. “Hamo?” she shouted, and listened to her voice echoing. There was no reply. Wasting no more time, she rushed out through the gates to check the manor’s fishpool, but there was no sign of a child, drowning or otherwise. Janna’s anxiety increased as she looked down over the stubbled water meadows to the swiftly flowing river beyond. Although it was quite shallow, the fast current could turn into whirlpools in the deep holes that pockmarked the riverbed. Even more dangerous was the mill race and water mill further downriver. The great wheel churned in a thunder of foam with the force of the water channeled into it. She looked upstream to the water-logged marsh, which was equally dangerous to a child who couldn’t swim. Beyond the river and straight ahead was the solid green wall of the forest of Gravelinges. Might Hamo have crossed the river in safety at the ford, and be on his way home to his mother?

  No, she thought, remembering Cecily’s words. He’d been lonely at home, pining for his cousin Hugh. So why, then, had he run away?

  She remembered the lame and mangy dog. Hamo seemed to have adopted it as a pet, and yet it had run after Godric when he left the manor. Had Hamo slipped away to find it? And if so, where might he have gone? She turned in a circle, trying to spot any signs of the boy and his dog. Behind the manor spread the fields, basking gold and green in the hot afternoon sun. The sounds of frightened baaing and bleating gave direction to the shearers, but there was no sign of Godric, or the dog. Would Godric have gone straight home?

  Yes, she thought sadly. He’d made no secret of his disquiet on seeing her. He would not want to encounter her again. Had Hamo followed him into the forest, hoping to find his dog? She shielded her eyes and peered across the water meadows once more, in case she could see anyone walking toward the forest. The thought of Hamo lost and alone made her shudder, but a new horror turned her cold in spite of the heat. She had to force herself to consider the possibility that this might be the next disaster to befall Hugh’s manor. If so, whoever was behind what was happening must have had advance warning that the party was arriving today, or else had acted on impulse and with lightning speed to take advantage of Hamo’s unexpected appearance. And that denoted a cunning and guile far above Urk’s capability. Who, then, was behind this latest calamity?

  Fighting anxiety, Janna cast about for any sign of movement. A couple of swans, followed by a line of fluffy gray-brown cygnets, paddled majestically upriver, laboring against the current that dragged them toward the mill. There was no indication of any other living thing either in the water or beside it, but Janna couldn’t see very much of the river’s path, shrouded as it was by trees. She forced herself to stand quietly, to think things through, for there was no point in alarming herself needlessly, or rushing about looking in all the wrong places. Better by far to think of the most logical explanation for Hamo’s absence: that he’d gone in pursuit of the stray dog, and Godric.

  It was a hot day. Godric and his party would have had a long walk through the forest, might even have had to stop there to pass the night. Neither Godric nor Hamo had taken water from the well to drink, or any food, so they would be thirsty and probably hungry too. Where might Godric or Hamo have gone for refreshment?

  The river, Janna decided. Upstream or downstream? She shrugged. She had no idea, but there was no time to waste, not if she wanted to catch up with the pair.

  “Hamo?” she shouted, as she hurried down toward the ford. “Godric!”

  If Godric had seen Hamo following him, he would have brought the boy back to the manor. Her pace increased. If Hamo hadn’t found Godric, he could be in the most deadly danger. “Hamo!” she shouted. “Where are you?”

  A faint cry answered her, and she felt a momentary relief until she realized it was the deeper tone of Godric’s voice. She couldn’t see him, but his voice had come from the dense thicket of brambles and trees that lined the river’s path upstream.

  “Godric!” She broke into a run, the quicker to reach him. “Hamo’s missing. He’s lost,” she bellowed. “Please help me look for him!” She pushed her way through trees and bushes, only to find her way barred by the mangy dog, which snarled and bared its teeth. “Get out of my way!” Janna was too worried to be afraid. She aimed a kick in the dog’s direction, and it backed off, barking furiously. “Godric!”

  “When did you last see Hamo? And where?” He came running, and she realized he’d been up to some illegal fishing, as she spotted a flash of silver on the river bank behind him.

  “Hamo left the courtyard while we weren’t watching. I thought he might be looking for you and the dog.”

  “Bones.” Godric gave the dog a disgusted glance. “Look at it! I tried to leave it behind, but the stupid thing kept following me.”

  Even though the dog had given her grief, Janna thought Godric was being a little harsh. That the dog was in pain was evident. A closer inspection revealed that to conform with the harsh forest laws, three claws had been cut off to the knuckle on each forepaw so that the cur could not chase after the king’s game. But not enough care had been taken. Its paws were bloody and oozing yellow matter. The dog was also half-starved, reasons enough for its antisocial behavior. But Janna had no time for Bones now. Her anxiety overrode even the awkwardness she felt being face to face with Godric as she quickly explained her fears for Hamo’s safety.

  “You go on upriver and I’ll go down toward the mill,” he said at once. “Keep calling. If either one of us finds him, we must go in search of the other.” He glanced up at the sun. “If neither of us finds him by the time the sun touches the tree line over there, we should retrace our steps and meet back here so that we can go back to the manor before it gets too dark to see.”

  Janna nodded in agreement, greatly relieved that he was prepared to help her search and that there were no recriminations—at least, not yet. Godric started off, calling the boy’s name, following the river downstream. The dog limped behind him. Janna hastened off toward the marsh, also calling Hamo’s name. Along the way, and just to be on the safe side, she quickly kicked Godric’s illicit catch back into the river.

  She hadn’t gone far when she heard a shout.

  “He’s here!”

  She turned and raced downstream in the direction Godric had taken. After some moments, she saw him. Her body went cold with shock as she saw that he carried the limp and dripping body of Hamo.

  Pray he isn’t dead, she thought, as she rushed up to Godric and fell into step beside him. He was striding in the direction of the manor, bearing his burden at the greatest speed he could muster. The boy was blue around the lips, and he hung lifeless in Godric’s arms. Janna fought down her rising panic. She couldn’t bear the thought that after all, they had come too late. There was a bloody gash across Hamo’s forehead, but Janna noticed one of his eyelids twitch and felt a surge of relief.

  She cast her mind back to a time when she and her mother had passed two villeins arguing over the possession of a pig. As the argument escalated over
whose pig it was to sell, punches were thrown and one of the villeins pushed the other into the river. Hearing his cry, Eadgyth had turned and run back to aid the culprit rescue his victim, but the man was lifeless by the time they managed to haul him out of the water. Janna remembered what her mother had done next.

  “Put him down!” she told Godric.

  “We have to get him back to the manor house.” Godric’s pace didn’t check.

  “There’s no time for that. Put him down! On his stomach.” Janna grabbed hold of Godric’s arm and dragged on him to make him do as she asked. “We have to push the water out of his chest.”

  Reluctantly, Godric laid Hamo down on a bed of soft grass. Janna turned his head to one side, then pressed down on the boy’s back with all her strength. A gush of water erupted from Hamo’s mouth. She lifted his arms to give him a chance to breathe in, then pressed down once more. She kept pushing and lifting until, to her great relief, the boy began to cough and splutter. He took in a great whoop of air, and began to breathe on his own. He was incapable of speech, so Janna turned to Godric.

  “Where did you find him? What happened to him?”

  “He was face down in the river, drowning.”

  “Yes, yes,” she said impatiently. “I mean, was anyone else there with him, anyone at all?”

  “No.” Godric looked puzzled. “Only me. If you hadn’t sounded the alarm, if we hadn’t gone after him, he would have died. He’s lucky that we found him in time, and that you knew what to do.”

  “How did it happen? Can you tell?”

  Godric shrugged. “He was probably thirsty, looking for a drink. He must have slipped and fallen into the river.”