Stolen Child: The Janna Chronicles 2
Page 16
Janna sighed, discouraged. “Go on then and look for Hamo,” she said, and gave him a gentle push in the direction of the younger children. Urk ambled off, giving her a bewildered glance as he left. Janna walked outside and looked up at the sky. The sun had begun to fall toward the earth; it would be dark within a few hours, and then Serlo would demand an explanation of Edwin’s absence. She felt like a watermill in a dry river bed, churning around uselessly and achieving absolutely nothing. She’d been rushing everywhere, but she still had no answers for Serlo, nor any idea where to find them either. What was she to do? With steps dragging, she went back to join the searchers at the forest’s edge.
She looked across the water meadows to the manor beyond, with the small cots of the peasants clinging to the lane through the hamlet like pups to a bitch’s teats. Behind the manor stretched the cultivated fields, stripes of ripening wheat in one, barley in the other, while the third was left fallow. A small copse of trees occupied part of a triangle left between two of the fields, with a fine stand of wheat filling the remaining space. From the height and distance of her position, Janna could see now that the copse hid a solid, stone-built cottage.
“Who lives there?” she asked, while beside her, Bones began to whine. “Shh.” She smacked his muzzle gently to shut him up so that she could hear Mistress Wulfrun’s reply.
“Master Serlo. The cottage and those gore acres around it belong to him.”
Janna gave a long, low whistle as she quickly revised her opinion of the reeve. Mistress Tova had mentioned Serlo’s cottage and fields, but Janna hadn’t realized the full extent of his holding. Gytha would do well to encourage him, she thought now, for the young woman’s chance of improving her station was far greater with Serlo than it could ever be with Hugh. As Serlo’s wife, she would have a certain status; she would also become a woman of property. Yet as she mentally compared the two in her mind, Janna had to admit that in Gytha’s position she’d also be hoping for a future with Hugh rather than plighting her troth to the reeve.
She dragged her thoughts back to the more pressing matter of the missing boy. “Has anyone looked around Serlo’s cottage for Hamo?” At the sound of the boy’s name Bones strained on his leash beside her, still whining.
“Yes, indeed, Master Serlo conducted the search himself.” Mistress Wulfrun caught hold of Janna’s arm. “Don’t think to go anywhere near there, John. Master Serlo does not take kindly to anyone trespassing on his property. Besides, I noticed him return to his cottage at noon for his dinner. So wherever Hamo may be, you can be sure he’s not there.”
Janna nodded, accepting that the woman was giving her good advice. “You know the manor farm better than I do, mistress,” she said. “Where do you think Hamo might be?”
“I wish I knew.” The woman scratched her nose, looking thoughtful. “They say the lord has gone to break the bad news to Dame Alice, but in his absence Master Serlo will continue the search until the boy is found. Conscientious as he is, he knows every rock and tree on the manor farm. Wherever Hamo is, alive or dead, Master Serlo will find him.”
“Then let us pray that Master Serlo finds Hamo alive!” The alternative was too dreadful to contemplate. As Janna walked on, calling Hamo’s name in the silences left between the clanging tones of the bell, she wondered suddenly how Cecily was faring and what she was doing. Newly in charge of Hamo and wanting only the best for Dame Alice, she must be riven with anxiety. And self-blame. How had Hamo managed to escape Cecily yet again? It was something she should have thought to ask right from the start.
Janna turned abruptly and hurried back to the manor, tugging Bones along with her, although the dog continued to bark and pull on his rope to get free. She was crossing the yard when she saw Cecily vanish through the line of pear and apple trees that hedged the kitchen garden. At once she followed, curious to find out what Hamo’s new nurse sought there. But it seemed that Cecily had merely escaped to find some privacy, for Janna found her sitting hunched under a pear tree, weeping as if her heart would break. Her head was buried in her lap with her arms wrapped around to muffle the sounds she was making. She didn’t hear Janna approach.
“Mistress Cecily.” Janna tapped her on the shoulder. At Janna’s touch, the tiring woman leaped up in fright and shied away.
“Oh, it’s you, Janna,” she said, and subsided onto the ground once more. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and gave a mournful sniff. “What am I going to do?” she burst out. “The lord Hugh has gone to tell his aunt that Hamo is missing. Dame Alice will never forgive me if harm has come to him. I’ll never forgive myself. Oh, Janna, I have caused such trouble to my lady and her kin!” She burst into a storm of weeping once more.
Overcome with pity, Janna put her arm around Cecily, hoping to comfort her. No wonder she was hurting. She had loved Robert once, loved him enough to forget all honor, and all loyalty and gratitude to his wife. That he’d proved so base, so unworthy of her sacrifice, must double both her sadness and her shame. And now there was the added blame of Hamo’s disappearance. There was nothing Janna could say to ease Cecily’s pain or make things right for her. All she could do, all anyone could do, was keep on looking for Hamo and pray that he’d be found alive.
Janna continued to hold Cecily, patting her as she did so. “Hush,” she said at last, offering what little comfort she could. “Everyone’s out searching. I’m sure Hamo will be found soon. We mustn’t give up hope.”
Cecily nodded, and gave a forlorn sniff.
Encouraged, Janna asked, “When did you last see Hamo? How did he come to run away?”
“I know not.” Cecily gave her eyes a fierce scrub on her sleeve, and sniffed again. “I needed to speak to the cook about Hamo’s meals. I asked him to come with me to the kitchen but he didn’t want to, and so I left him playing with his ball.”
Janna reflected, with bleak amusement, that Hamo’s new nurse didn’t yet have his measure. Telling, not asking, would be far more effective if she wanted the child to obey her. She remembered what Hugh had said. “He was playing by the undercroft?”
“Yes. He was throwing his ball at the wall and trying to catch it. Actually, he’s very good at it.”
Having played ball with Hamo herself, Janna knew just how accurate was his aim, and how skilful his catching. She also knew that Hamo loved to play ball; she could hardly blame Cecily if the boy resisted her efforts to drag him away. “How long were you gone?” she asked.
“Only long enough for the cook to show me what she had in her stores, and for me to give her some directions regarding Hamo’s likes and dislikes. She was willing enough to listen and to learn, there was no argument there. But when I came out again and looked for Hamo, he was nowhere to be seen. I swear to you—” Cecily clutched Janna’s arm in agitation, “—I was not gone for long. Moments only!” She began to cry once more.
“Was the dog with Hamo while he was playing with his ball?” It was a chance question, but Cecily’s answer reinforced Janna’s certainty that the two were linked together somehow.
“No,” she said. “We’d been looking for the dog everywhere, but we couldn’t find it. Hamo was very upset.” She looked down at Bones, now sitting placidly beside Janna. “Where did you find it?” She brightened momentarily. “Maybe Hamo…?”
Her voice trailed off as Janna shook her head. “Bones was here, tied up behind a barrel in the kitchen garden,” she said. “There was no sign of Hamo.”
“But Hamo and I searched all around here just before he disappeared. We would have found Bones; he would have barked when he heard us calling.”
“I saw the dog outside the kitchen when I broke my fast yesterday. But I didn’t see him after that until I went looking for Hamo earlier today, and found the dog cowering behind those barrels over there. He seemed frightened, I don’t know why.” It was something to think about later, but for now she was anxious to question Cecily further. If Hugh was somehow implicated in Hamo’s disappearance, then Janna vowed to find it out.
Cecily frowned at Janna, and remained silent.
“Mistress Gytha is very attractive, is she not?” Janna prompted, hoping to goad Cecily into speaking by throwing in a snippet of kitchen gossip. “I know she cares for my lord and is hoping for a propitious marriage. Does he perhaps spend time dallying with her?”
“Gytha?” Cecily’s eyes widened. Too late, Janna remembered that at one time she’d wondered if Cecily herself was enamored with Hugh. She wasn’t then, but perhaps that, too, had changed in the time Janna had been away. Janna wished she could unask the question.
“Gytha,” Cecily said again. She gave a short laugh. “I think my lord might wish to do better for himself than the cook’s daughter.”
Although Cecily’s words echoed what Janna herself thought, she couldn’t help feeling saddened by the reminder that if Gytha was beneath Hugh’s attention, she herself must come even lower. She brought herself back to the purpose of her questions. If Hugh was guilty, as she feared, he could have no place in her heart, none at all.
“I doubt that my lord has spent much time with Gytha or any other pretty woman who might take his fancy, for he has been very busy since his return.” Cecily said tartly. “He told me he’s been going out every day to inspect the fields, and see what’s to be done about the manor, to make sure that all is well. I know he’s worried that the manor isn’t as productive as it should be. I believe there have also been several unfortunate accidents recently. Although my lord Hugh pays tribute to Master Serlo, whom he says is an excellent reeve, I suspect his main aim is to convince his aunt of his own good stewardship, and to stay in her favor so that she will let him keep the manor for himself after young Hamo comes of age—if he still lives.” Cecily started to cry once more.
So Hugh could have gone anywhere and everywhere, with no-one to check on his movements. Janna knew she could push Cecily no further. It was clear she had little real knowledge of how Hugh passed his days. But she might know something else of use. “Gytha tells me that the visitors who traveled with you through the forest are on their way to a great fair. Do you know if they are bound for Winchestre?” she asked, sure that Cecily would have shown more interest in them than self-absorbed Gytha would have done. The travelers might be able to tell her the way even if they were not going there themselves. But if they were, she would follow them.
Janna was struck with a sudden thought: Edwin had been present when Master Siward and his servant had arrived—and he’d been missing ever since. Had he already interrogated them about Winchestre? Was that why he’d vanished? Or could it be that he’d disappeared for another reason entirely? She nodded slowly as a different scenario came into her mind. She would think it through later, when she had more time.
“Yes, I believe they are.” Cecily’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’re always asking questions,” she observed, “and always to a purpose. What’s on your mind, Janna?”
Janna was tempted to share her doubts with Cecily, along with her plans to flee the manor, but she knew she could do nothing or go anywhere until Hamo was found and the truth proved, whatever it might be. “Nothing in particular is on my mind,” she lied. “I’m just trying to work out who Hamo could be with, or where he might have gone. I’m trying to help, mistress.”
“I doubt Hamo’s gone anywhere with Master Siward.” Cecily thought for a moment. “In fact, I know he hasn’t, for I saw him and his servant earlier. They’re taking part in the search.” Her voice shook as she fought for control.
“Do you know where they have come from?” Janna asked. It seemed unlikely that these strangers could be responsible for Hamo’s disappearance. They would have no reason to wish the boy harm, nor would they have the local knowledge to keep him hidden. Yet their identity was of interest, for in that might lie the answer to at least one of the mysteries that plagued her.
“They come from near Tantone. I think ’tis in the next shire from ours.”
Tantone—the demesne of Edwin’s cruel lord. Janna nodded as her suspicion was confirmed. “Why have they stopped here?” she asked carefully.
“They needed to break their journey because one of their horses went lame. They plan to reach Winchestre in time for the annual fair of St Giles.” Cecily sounded troubled as she added, “But I suspect there might be another reason for their slow progress. I heard them ask my lord Hugh if he’d seen or given shelter to an outlaw over the past months.”
“An outlaw?” Janna’s voice squeaked in horror at the realization that now Edwin’s secret must be known to Hugh. She tried to control her agitation. “What did he tell them?”
“He asked if the outlaw was traveling on his own. When Master Siward said, ‘Yes,’ my lord replied that he had not come across any man traveling alone. Oh!” Cecily caught her breath. “Is that—did he mean Edwin? Is Edwin an outlaw?”
Janna was furious with herself for questioning Cecily. She was sure the young woman wouldn’t have worked it out if she hadn’t been prompted into it. But it was too late, now, to take back her words. She nodded.
“Oh, Janna!” Cecily clutched her arm, her own woes forgotten at this new threat. “We might have been murdered in our beds!”
“Nonsense!” Janna could understand why Edwin had gone missing now, but she wished he was here to argue his cause and state his innocence. More than anything, she was grateful to Hugh for keeping both her secret and Edwin’s. She felt ashamed of her suspicions about him, yet knew she must not trust him unless and until she could prove him innocent of any knowledge of Hamo’s disappearance.
“If the lord has kept Edwin’s secret, and mine, I beg you to do the same,” she pleaded. “Besides, Edwin left the manor some days ago, so you need have no fears for your safety. I believe those men frightened him away.”
“Thank goodness for that.” Cecily climbed to her feet, and stretched out her hand to help Janna up. “I must get back,” she said. She hesitated, looking suddenly awkward. “Janna, I hate to see you looking as you do. Please let me—”
“It’s all right, truly. I don’t mind.” Janna brushed dust and grass seeds from her breeches. “You go on ahead. You shouldn’t be seen with me.” Her eyes twinkled, her cares momentarily forgotten. “It might cause talk.” Cecily gave her a reluctant smile. “Go on.” Janna gave her a gentle push. “I’ll follow you.”
Chapter 10
A mournful tolling said that Hamo still wasn’t found as the villeins returned to the manor, the women and children parting from their menfolk at the gate to make their way home to their own cots. Janna could see the leaping flames of smoking torches. The men had returned only to fetch them so they might continue the search. She could hear Serlo’s voice bellowing out above the confusion, and she lingered a little longer, watching as the lighted flares streamed out and disappeared beyond the manor walls. She noticed that the forester had joined the search, and shrank back into the shadows. She must make sure to keep out of his way if he was still around in the morning.
The bell continued to toll, calling out to the lost boy, summoning him home. A wave of desolation swept over Janna. She was sure that if Hamo was lost, or had met with some misadventure, he would have been found by now, either dead or alive. Someone must have taken him, and hidden him away. Could that mean he might still be alive? Janna tried to take comfort from the thought, yet she could not get Hugh out of her mind; he was the only man who had reason to wish Hamo harm. A further thought troubled her: Hugh had gone to fetch Dame Alice. His absence meant there was no-one here to take care of Hamo while he was held captive. So was the boy dead after all?
No! Janna knew she must not give in to despair. She would not. But something else had occurred to her: it might be nothing, but it might mean everything. Cecily had said that Hamo was playing ball against the manor wall while she’d visited the kitchen to talk to the cook about his meals. Why? What
had prompted the discussion? And where was Hamo’s ball?
Janna went in search of her once more, and found her about to climb the stairs up to the hall. She’d plucked an armful of flowers from the garden, perhaps to cheer herself up. Janna was about to question her, when a sudden roar silenced them both.
“John!” Before Janna could move, could run, Serlo was upon her. He grabbed her smock in one big hand, and began shaking her as a dog would a rat.
“Stop it! Stop that!” Cecily said sharply, and bent to calm Bones, who’d begun to bark hysterically.
Serlo gave her a startled glance. “He is a thief, just as his brother is a thief!” He gave Janna another hard shake. Janna jerked her chin at Cecily, trying to tell her to go away and leave them, but Cecily stayed.
“What evidence do you have for such an accusation, Master Serlo?” she asked calmly.
“A length of fine woolen cloth is missing from a storage chest in the undercroft.” Serlo kept tight hold of Janna. “Two silver goblets are also missing.” He thrust his face into Janna’s, scowling ferociously. “Where are they?”
Janna’s first reaction was overwhelming relief. The posy of rue must have been to mark a theft, not the taking of Hamo. In spite of her situation, she felt almost light-hearted.
“I know nothing of those articles,” she said steadily, pitching her voice louder to be heard above the noise Bones was making. The dog had retreated a slight distance from Serlo, keeping a wary eye on the reeve as he snarled and barked.
“I have no possessions for you to search,” Janna continued, “but I warrant that no matter where you look, you will find nothing to link either me or Edwin to the missing objects.” The storage chests had been locked, she remembered. Whoever had the key must therefore be responsible for the thefts. She opened her mouth to voice her thoughts, and quickly closed it again. It would only increase Serlo’s suspicions if she confirmed she’d already investigated the chests.