Stolen Child: The Janna Chronicles 2

by Felicity Pulman

  His question caught Janna by surprise. She gave a reluctant nod.

  “And I suspect you know a lot more than you’re telling me?” Hugh waited for Janna’s reply, but she stayed silent. Although her mother had died because Robert tried to silence Cecily, Janna couldn’t accuse the lord of anything without proof. The fact that he’d tried to silence Janna with the willing aid of the villagers, and failed, meant that he would try again if he realized his secret hadn’t died with her.

  “Perhaps you’re not prepared to betray any confidences?” Hugh ventured. Janna nodded again, relieved that he seemed to understand her position. “Then tell me!” He grasped her once more by the arm, and thrust his face close to hers. “Does any of this have anything to do with Hamo’s disappearance now?”

  “No. At least, I don’t think so.” Janna looked up at Hugh, conscious of how closely they stood together. She could see the stubble of his beard, and smell the sweat on him after his hard ride through the forest. She closed her eyes, feeling suddenly faint with longing.

  “Johanna.” His voice was gentle. “I keep saying that I won’t underestimate you, and then I go and do it all over again.” He gave a rueful laugh. “But you still haven’t told me why you’ve been following me about the manor, when you could have come straight to the stable if you really wanted to check up on Arrow.”

  His question brought Janna back to the reality of her position. She blinked, and stepped hastily away from him. How far could she trust him with the truth? “I’m looking for Hamo, my lord. I wondered if you…” She could not go on.

  “If I…know where he is? If I can lead you to him? Is that it? Do you think I have him hidden somewhere?” There was a hard edge of anger behind the question. Janna tilted her chin, assuming a bravery she did not feel. Hugh gave a short, hard laugh. “I can assure you I don’t know where Hamo is, and I’m every bit as concerned for his safety as you are. If you have any thoughts about where he might have strayed, or what might have happened to him, please tell me so that we don’t waste any more time.”

  “I don’t think he has strayed, sire. I believe he’s been taken on purpose, and that was why the rue was left in the undercroft. I believe the thefts came after.”

  “Hamo’s been taken? But why? And by whom?” Hugh looked stunned as the full import of Janna’s words struck home.

  Was her new understanding of the situation correct? A name was on the tip of Janna’s tongue, but she found she could not utter it. Not yet, not without further thought. Not without proof. “I don’t know, sire,” she said instead.

  “But you thought I was responsible?” Hugh nodded before Janna could answer the question. “Yes, I can see why you might think it in my interest to have Hamo out of the way, although I am sorry you should think so ill of me.” He grasped Janna’s shoulders and held her tight. “You must believe me, I know nothing of any of this,” he said earnestly. “But by God, you can be sure I’ll get to the bottom of it. No-one will be safe from my questions, no-one.” He let her go and took a step back. “Not even Edwin,” he added. “Go and fetch him now. I will question him along with everyone else.” And before Janna could protest, he strode out of the stable.

  Chapter 12

  Janna picked up Hamo’s ball and followed Hugh. All her fine theories about his guilt had been blown away, and she was more than glad of it, for she’d thought of someone else to take his place. She still needed to piece together what she’d seen and heard, to see if they added up, but she thought she’d discovered a possible motive behind the incidents. Even Hamo’s disappearance was beginning to make sense.

  She must start by asking questions, and finding proof. Fetching Edwin would have to wait for she had far more urgent things to do than go looking for him. As a first step, she went in search of Cecily. She didn’t have to look far. The young woman was moping about the kitchen garden once more. Bones was with her, still tied with the old piece of rope. Even as Janna watched, the dog lifted a leg and sent a liberal spray over a patch of parsley. Janna hoped that the cook was as punctilious as her own mother had been when it came to washing herbs before using them.

  “Cecily,” she called, to prevent her from hurrying away now that her charge had done its duty. She tucked Hamo’s ball behind her back as she approached. Bones barked and wagged his tail, and she bent to give him a pat, pleased that he stood four-square on his paws, apparently without too much discomfort.

  Cecily gave her a woebegone smile. “I’m glad Serlo has seen sense and that you are free, Janna.”

  Janna grinned in return. “The lord Hugh has had a word with him, and knows about the missing goods. He knows I am not to blame, and he has spoken to Serlo about it.” Surprised, the tiring woman opened her mouth to question Janna further. “Will you tell me again about the last time you saw Hamo?” Janna hurried on, unwilling to waste time on less important matters.

  Cecily’s eyes filled with tears. “I left him over there.” She flung out her hand toward the staircase which led up to the hall.

  “And he was playing with his ball?” Janna confirmed. Cecily nodded. “This one?” Janna pulled it out from behind her back and showed it to the tiring woman.

  Cecily gasped. “Where did you find it?” She took it from Janna and peered at it as if it might reveal the secret of Hamo’s whereabouts.

  “It was here in the kitchen garden, where I also found the dog. I suspect Bones had been beaten. He seemed really frightened.”

  “But—who? Why?”

  “I’m working on it.” Janna took Cecily’s hand. “Try not to worry,” she said gently. “I think I’m close to finding an answer. If I’m right, none of the blame for Hamo’s disappearance will fall on you.”

  “Do you know where he is? Is he still alive?”

  “I hope so.” It was as far as Janna was prepared to go right now. She released Cecily’s hand, frowning as she noticed a patch of tiny blisters on her own hand. They were itchy and sore. Janna scratched them absent-mindedly as she continued to probe for the truth. “You said you went to speak to the cook about Hamo’s meals. What prompted you to do that?”

  “I’d been talking to Master Serlo,” Cecily answered readily. “I asked his advice about Hamo. I wanted to know how I might keep the boy occupied during his visit here. He is so bright and merry, I knew he would not be content to stay by my side all the time. I thought Master Serlo might arrange for him to go riding, or become more proficient with his swordplay, for I know he loves to pretend to fight just like his cousin Hugh. Serlo gave me a few suggestions, and then advised me to speak to the cook about providing good fresh food for Hamo, including more meat, fish and fowl, for he is growing apace and is always hungry. Was hungry. Oh, Janna. How can he still be alive after all this time?” She began to cry.

  “Shh. You mustn’t give up hope. Not yet.” Janna patted Cecily’s shoulder, her mind wholly taken with what she’d just learned. Serlo! No-one had been more assiduous in the search for Hamo than the reeve. And no-one was more proud of the manor farm than the reeve. In Hugh’s absence, he had taken charge of it as if it was his own. He had nothing to gain from setting a fox among the hens, or killing a lamb, setting fire to a haystack, destroying the new wheat or laming Hugh’s horse. He had nothing to gain but the destruction of Hugh’s reputation. But snatching a child…Janna’s heart plummeted to her boots. Serlo might have started out with the intention of discrediting Hugh in the eyes of his aunt, hoping that it would further his own interests. But snatching Hamo meant a larger purpose altogether, a purpose Janna was beginning to understand.

  If there was anything in Serlo’s past to shed light on his actions now, the cook would surely know of it, Janna thought. The woman delighted in finding out what was happening around the manor and passing on the information, the more salacious or derogatory the better. She must be made to talk.

  Conscious that precious time was passing, Janna turned to Cecily. “I’m going to make up a posset for Dame Alice, for I believe the lady is in sore distress
,” she said. “Will you come to the kitchen and fetch it by and by? I beg you, if you value my life, please don’t tell my lady, or Robert, who prepared it.”

  Cecily nodded, and swiped her sleeve across her eyes to dry them. “I have kept your secret, as I vowed I would,” she assured Janna.

  “But will you also please tell my lord Hugh that I made up the posset as he asked?”

  Cecily nodded. “I must go up to my lady.” She thrust the end of the rope into Janna’s hand. “Please take the dog. It upsets Dame Alice to have it nearby, while my lord Robert gives it a kick every time it comes close to his boots.”

  Janna could well believe it. The man was a bully, afraid of no-one save his wife. And the thought of anything that might jeopardize his comfortable life, Janna amended. She tugged on the rope to lead Bones to the herbs she wanted to pick for Dame Alice’s posset. Wild lettuce and valerian would help to calm and soothe her, banish nightmares and help her to sleep, while motherwort, sweet marjoram or any of several other herbs would build her strength and lift her spirits. She glanced at the dog as she picked the roots, leaves and flowers she needed. He’d been washed, his coat was clean and shining. In fact, the dog was starting to look almost handsome. “Where were you when Hamo was taken?” she asked, sure in her own mind that Bones had been used as bait to trap Hamo, and that the dog had then been dumped, along with Hamo’s ball, once the child was safely out of sight. Or dead. She hurriedly pushed the thought away. She could not afford to give in to despair, not while there was the slightest chance that Hamo might still be alive.

  “Did you see Hamo?” she asked Bones. “Do you know where he is now?” The dog looked at her with bright, intelligent eyes, and whined softly. Janna gave him a pat and straightened, clutching her handful of plants. She sped to the kitchen, with Bones trotting willingly beside her. He’d obviously decided that the kitchen was his favorite place, and he strained on his lead to get there, setting up a frantic sniffing and barking once inside.

  “Get that mongrel out of here,” Mistress Tova said savagely, as she swiped a piece of bacon away from the dog’s quivering nose. Janna set down the fragrant herbs she carried. She surreptitiously slid her hand over the piece of fat bacon before dragging Bones outside. While he was busy gulping down the titbit, she tied him to a post, leaving him in view of the door so that she could keep watch. She went inside, determined to put the cook’s gossip to good use for once.

  The cook glanced sideways at Janna. “Master Serlo was in here looking for you—and your brother. You’re in a lot of trouble, both of you. He says there are some goods missing from the undercroft.”

  “My lord Hugh knows that we are both innocent,” Janna said quickly.

  Mistress Tova gave a suspicious sniff, as if to smell out the truth. “Doesn’t do to get on the wrong side of Serlo,” she muttered darkly.

  It was the opening Janna was waiting for. “Tell me about Master Serlo, mistress,” she said. She hooked a pot of water over the fire to boil, and began to prepare and chop the herbs she’d picked. “How is it that he lives in such a substantial house and is allowed to keep all those fields for his own?”

  “This manor once belonged to Serlo’s family.” Unable to resist the chance of a good gossip, the cook came over and settled her bony backside onto a stool. “The land was confiscated by William the Bastard after the great battle at Hastings. The king gave this estate as well as several others to Dame Alice’s grandfather, who had fought with him, as a reward for his service. Serlo’s family lost their land and their livelihood, and were reduced to the status of villeins on a manor they had owned for centuries before that.”

  Janna was silent as she absorbed the cook’s information. This was the link that completed the puzzle. It was also a familiar story. Many Saxon thegns had been dispossessed of their lands after the Norman invasion. She’d heard that King William had even taken an inventory of everything he’d conquered, right down to the last hide and plow, cow and pig, mill and fishery, and had kept a record in what people sneeringly referred to as “the Domesday Book”, for it seemed like a final reckoning of their lives. But the commissioners had many arguments to settle first, so it was said, for the thegns did not give up their land and possessions lightly, while the Norman barons were always greedy to claim more than their entitlement. It had caused great hardship, anger and misery at the time. And now it seemed that the memory of past greatness and great wrongs did not die easily.

  “My lady inherited the property through her own family, but Serlo still takes great pride in the estate,” Mistress Tova continued, confirming the direction in which Janna’s thoughts now lay. “It was to reward him for his good offices that my lord Hugh granted him the right to live in a cottage that had once belonged to his family, and gave him the gore acres as his own, on the understanding that the work was done in Serlo’s own time and that it would not take anything away from his attention to the rest of the manor.”

  She hesitated, torn between loyalty to her daughter and confiding her innermost fears. “In truth, John,” she said finally, “I have urged Gytha to encourage Serlo’s attention, for I know he is keen—more than keen—to wed her. In faith, the reeve is besotted with her, he is sick with love, but Gytha will have none of him for she means to marry my lord and no other.”

  Janna nodded. She’d seen how Serlo looked at Gytha, and how disdainfully the young woman treated him in turn. Serlo must know that he had a rival for her affections, and who that rival was. How he must hate being subservient to Hugh, especially as the whole estate had once belonged to his own family!

  “Does the lord encourage your daughter’s affection; has he spoken of marriage?” Janna asked, not sure if she really wanted to hear the answer.

  Mistress Tova sighed. “He has not,” she admitted sadly. “But my lord is lonely, and my daughter is beautiful. While he breathes, there is hope for her.” She brightened slightly. “And if Gytha’s ambition comes to nothing after all, Serlo will still have her and she must have him. She will see that he has much to offer and that she could do a lot worse than take him for a husband.”

  Indeed, Serlo had much to offer, Janna thought. No wonder he worked so hard about the manor, if Gytha was his intended prize. If he could take Hugh down at the same time, that would make his prize even sweeter. She recalled her first meeting with Serlo. “See how well my flock is doing,” Serlo had boasted to the forester while she and Edwin were in hiding. His words had led Janna to believe that they were taking refuge on Serlo’s own property, yet the fields he’d shown the forester belonged to Hugh’s aunt.

  Janna nodded thoughtfully. Serlo’s slip of the tongue should have alerted her to his real purpose right from the start. Having already reclaimed a substantial property for himself, the reeve meant to have it all. By discrediting Hugh, he hoped to drive him off the manor farm and out of Dame Alice’s good graces, leaving himself in charge. But he must have known that, even if his plan succeeded, his power would only last until Hamo came of age.

  Janna’s hand stilled on the knife she was using to cut the herbs. With a cold feeling of dread, she finally acknowledged the unthinkable. Hamo’s visit to the manor was unexpected, as was his ducking in the river, but Serlo had wasted no time using those events to his own advantage. Hamo’s death would also be attributed to Hugh’s carelessness, and with the two of them out of the way, the path would be cleared for Serlo to petition Dame Alice for the right to reclaim what had once belonged to his family. She might well agree, for by then the manor would hold only the worst of memories for her.

  Janna felt sick. Her hands began to tremble so badly she set down the knife lest she cut herself. Serlo. He had been left in charge of searching the manor grounds and forest in Hugh’s absence. How easy for him to lead the search away from Hamo. How easy for him to ensure that Hamo—or Hamo’s body—would never be found. Was Hamo alive, or dead? A hot tide of rage swept over Janna. She clenched her hands. If Hamo was dead, perhaps buried in the forest somewhere, they might
search forever and never find him. I can’t allow that to happen, Janna vowed. Alive or dead, he must be found.

  A sudden thought lifted Janna’s spirits slightly, and gave her a thread of hope on which to cling. Dame Alice would never relinquish the manor to Serlo while there was the possibility that Hamo might one day be found. Only his dead body would be enough to convince her either to sell or give the manor farm to Serlo—and so far, there was no dead body. Could that mean Hamo was still alive? Could Serlo be waiting for the hunt to be called off before causing the “accident” that would bring about the boy’s death?

  If that was the truth of it, then Serlo must be keeping Hamo captive somewhere. In his own cottage? It seemed the most likely place, but it was also the most dangerous. Serlo was the villeins’ reeve, the first person they would call on if they had a grudge or a grievance to air. And for the same reason he was also the first person Hugh would call on. Anyone entering Serlo’s cottage in search of him would find Hamo. It was surely too big a risk, even if Urk’s mother had mentioned that Serlo discouraged visitors. But if not the cottage, then where? The fields round about? Janna considered the possibility, but only for a moment. There was no shelter out there to hide a child, not for this length of time. The forest? If Serlo had managed to take Hamo there without being seen, it would make the best hiding place of all, Janna concluded. He could choose a spot, somewhere wild and undisturbed, knowing that the boy would never be found until it was safe to produce his body.