Devilʼs Brew: The Janna Chronicles 5

by Felicity Pulman

  Conscious of her own lowly status, Janna freed herself from his grasp and backed away, fighting an overwhelming sense of loss as she did so.

  “What are you doing here? Christ Jesu, Janna, what has brought you to this?” Godric’s voice carried no condemnation, only concern as he surveyed her homespun tunic and stained apron, so different from the sober garb of a lay sister. “I’d heard you’d left the abbey, but hoped you’d found safety and happiness elsewhere.”

  Although numb with despair, Janna tried to summon up a smile. She would have given anything to avoid this meeting, yet it seemed that, after all she had endured, there was still a final humiliation she must undergo.

  “Janna?” Ulf asked anxiously.

  “It’s all right, Ulf. I know this man. He’s my…friend.”

  Ulf nodded. Godric watched until the relic seller had disappeared through the door of the tavern before turning back to Janna. “I thought I’d never see you again! I can’t believe my good fortune in finding you here!” He reached out to caress her cheek. At his gentle touch, a host of memories tumbled through Janna’s mind. Their meeting in the forest when he’d rescued her from a wild boar. His help and support during their desperate search for a missing boy, a search that had almost ended with their own deaths. Now, when it was too late, she realized that Godric had always been there when she needed him; always ready with wise counsel; always safe, dependable and strong.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to contain the emotions that surged through her like a tidal wave. Seeing him here, standing in front of her, had made her realize she was mistaken in her belief that what she felt for Godric was friendship. Stricken, she stared at him as another memory came into her mind: her curt dismissal when he’d told her he loved her, when he’d asked her to be his wife. How could he forgive her for that? And why should she think he would wait for her, when she had left the abbey without telling him that she was going or if she’d ever return. Meanwhile Cecily was close at hand and available, and Janna was sure their overlord would be more than happy to give his permission for them to be wed.

  Now that it was too late, Janna could finally understand her devastation when she’d seen him with Cecily in the marketplace, and mistaken them for man and wife. Not friendship. Love. She closed her eyes so that he could not read her pain.

  “Janna,” he said quietly. She felt his arms fold around her, and draw her close. Shutting her mind to her fears, she moved into his embrace. His kiss melted her heart, her bones, her body. This, then, was how it felt to be held, to be loved, to be wanted and valued. She clung to him as his kiss, gentle at first, became more urgent, more demanding, and her body responded to his touch. She was on fire with wanting and understood, from the way Godric held her, that his need was just as great. All thought stopped as she gave herself up to the dizzying sweetness of being held by a lover who would make her his own. She had no sense of time passing until a stern voice brought her back to her surroundings.

  “Janna! You forget yourself! There are customers about!”

  Mortified, Janna realized that Sybil must have been watching them until her patience ran out. She reluctantly freed herself from Godric’s embrace, becoming aware once more of the odoriferous yard, stained with puddles of spit, vomit and piss, and the patrons hurrying to and from the latrine.

  “I must get back to work,” she told him, shame staining her face at how low she had fallen.

  Godric nodded in understanding. But his voice was heavy with warning as he said, “We are well met for another reason, Janna. Sire Hugh is inside and you should speak to him. I’ll keep him in the tavern until you have a free moment to hear his news.”

  “Don’t you go back in there empty-handed. You’ve neglected our customers for long enough!” Sybil beckoned to Janna from the doorway of the brew house. Janna squirmed with embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry, mistress,” she said, hoping the taverner didn’t think she carried on like that with other patrons of the tavern. “Godric is an old friend and – ”

  “And a dear one, by the look of things.” A small smile quirked the taverner’s lips, giving Janna comfort that she hadn’t been misunderstood after all.

  “Very dear,” she confirmed, thinking Sybil not quite so hard-headed and hard-hearted as she liked to pretend. Anxious to prove that she still had her mind on her work, Janna quickly filled two large pitchers with the new brew and took them across the yard to the tavern.

  “And get that bush tied up outside!” Sybil shouted after her.

  A swift glance around established the fact that Godric was seated at a table with Hugh. They were waiting to be served, like any other customers. She noted that Hamo wasn’t with them, and felt a surge of relief that the boy must be safely home again at Hugh’s manor.

  Trying to conceal her agitation, Janna set down the pitchers and looked about for the bush. It was brown now, and wilting at the edges, but still recognizable for what it was. Once she’d tied it to the pole, she rang the bell to attract the attention of any who might not already know about the new brew. That done, she hurried back inside and began to serve the ale, all the while conscious of Godric’s and Hugh’s close watch on her. She felt deeply ashamed of her straitened circumstances; she couldn’t imagine what Hugh must think of her. But Godric’s kiss had buoyed her spirits, and she told herself that his opinion was the only one that mattered.

  “It is well that Godric has found you, for we need to talk,” Hugh said, as she paused momentarily at a table close by to set down a trencher of griddle cakes and a stew that she suspected had more hedgerow weeds and herbs than meat and vegetables in it.

  “As soon as I have a free moment,” Janna promised.

  Her opportunity came during a quiet lull after everyone’s mug had been filled and food had been served. Hugh beckoned her over. “If the taverner complains, tell her we’re ordering a meal,” he said, with a glance over Janna’s shoulder at Sybil. Janna looked down at the empty trenchers in front of the pair, and raised an eyebrow.

  “That dish of pottage wasn’t very filling.”

  Janna felt indignant on Sybil’s behalf. “Supplies have become scarce in Winchestre. You should know that many people are starving, my lord, with not even our poor fare to fill their bellies!”

  “I know that. It’s an excuse to talk to you, that’s all.” Hugh lowered his voice. “I didn’t believe my uncle when he told me he’d seen you.”

  “Lord Robert knows I am here?” Janna drew herself erect, sweating with sudden fright as she absorbed the news of this new threat.

  Hugh nodded soberly. “I’m afraid he does. That is – ” He checked himself. “He said he thought he’d seen you in the cathedral, helping to tend the sick. He himself had a slight wound, which he said needed attention.” Hugh’s emphasis on the word “slight” told Janna what he thought of his uncle’s courage – or the lack of it. “I told him he must have been mistaken, and I think he agreed with me, but I’ve been looking for you ever since, just in case. I must say, I never expected to find you in here. We only stopped at this tavern because we were hungry. And thirsty.”

  Janna looked at Godric. “I’m so glad you did,” she said.

  “But why are you here? Why are you working as a…a…” Hugh flapped his hands in the air, unwilling to put into words how far Janna had fallen.

  “I’m…” Janna was about to tell them of her search for her father and how near she was to finding him, but realized that there was nothing left to tell. Despair filled her as she recalled Ulf’s news of the ruined manor house. “Now that I’ve left the abbey I have to work for my living,” she said instead.

  Hugh bent closer, his voice so low that Janna had to lean down to hear him more clearly. “Do not fear Robert,” he whispered. “I shall tell him I have looked everywhere for you and that he was definitely mistaken. But you must take care to stay out of his way, for he hasn’t forgiven you and will do all he can to bring you down.”

  “I shall look out for
him, I promise you. And if he wants an alehouse to slake his thirst, tell him to go to Hell!” Hugh might know of the alehouse or he might not. Janna didn’t care; he could make of her comment what he liked. She was about to leave, but he caught her arm and drew her close once more.

  “You must not say anything to anyone of my warning, but I can tell you that Robert won’t be a threat to you for much longer.” Hugh’s voice was so quiet Janna could hardly hear him. “You must leave Winchestre, Johanna, at once, while there’s still time. Keep to the fields, don’t take any of the roads. And stay out of sight. Don’t trust anyone.” Without warning, he pulled her close and his lips brushed her cheek in a fleeting kiss. “Please – keep yourself safe.” He let her go and leaned back on his stool.

  “But I don’t understand. Why won’t the lord Robert be a threat to me for much longer?” Confused, Janna turned to Godric, hoping that he might explain something of Hugh’s meaning. But his face was a shuttered mask, his eyes without warmth.

  “Shh! You must not speak of it. All that I’ve said, I’ve told you in confidence.” Hugh scanned the room, checking that no-one was paying them any attention. But the customers were more intent on filling their bellies with ale and food; none looked their way. Hugh turned back to Janna. “Why did you leave the abbey? I know you talked about going in search of your father, but you surely won’t find him here.” He waved a hand, indicating the tavern.

  Janna looked around, seeing it through Hugh’s eyes. He didn’t have to elaborate on how far she’d fallen since she last saw him. She willed Godric to say that she was still the same young woman they both knew, that her circumstances made no difference to the person she was inside. But to her disappointment, he kept silent.

  “You don’t need to stay here, you know,” Hugh continued earnestly. “I once offered you a home at my manor farm, and I would still welcome you any time you wish to return.”

  “That is kind of you, my lord.” Although Janna was tempted, she wasn’t sure it would be in her best interests to accept Hugh’s offer, should she fail in her search for her father. Godric would be there, of course, and what she most wanted was to be close to Godric. But Hugh was his overlord and Godric would be forced to abide by Hugh’s plans for her – whatever they might be. Janna cast a sideways glance at Godric as she remembered that Hugh had just kissed her. Had Godric already jumped to the wrong conclusion? Was that why he wouldn’t look at her now? It was true that she’d been greatly attracted to Hugh when first they’d met. And that bond had seemed mutual, had grown deeper while she’d nursed him back to health at the abbey. But so much had happened since then, including her reunion with Godric.

  “Have you abandoned your search for your father? Is that why you’re here in Winchestre?” Hugh persisted.

  “I’m still looking, but I haven’t found him yet.” But I do know who he is. It seems I’m the illegitimate granddaughter of the old king. What do you think about that, my lord? She longed to tell Hugh and Godric everything, but could not, for she had nothing in her purse to prove her claim, nor even her father’s manor house, or his steward, to show them. To forestall any further questions, Janna asked one of her own.

  “What brings you to Winchestre, my lord? Was it the earl’s call to arms?” She wouldn’t admit that she’d already seen him even before the siege began.

  Hugh gave a rueful laugh, looking suddenly self-conscious. Intrigued, Janna looked to Godric for an explanation, but he was sitting with arms folded and head bowed, studying the wet-slopped table as if it bore the secrets of the universe.

  “Although my aunt is a tenant of the king, her sympathies have long been with the empress. Especially at this time,” Hugh said into the silence. “Yes, I came in answer to Robert of Gloucestre’s call for support, as I have before. But in fact I was already near Winchestre when the call came.” A smile twitched the sides of his mouth as he looked down at Janna. “As I recall, I was on my way home from another such skirmish when we first met.”

  “You were riding your destrier through Wiltune, my lord. You looked as if you owned the world!” Janna remembered the occasion only too well.

  Hugh’s face shadowed. “Unfortunately I don’t own the world, or anything like it! Even my armor and weapons belonged to my father. They came to me after his death. As for the destrier, I won him in battle. But he is mine now, and we have grown close over the months we have served together. He is, indeed, a fine mount, fierce and spirited, quick to bite and kick when necessary, and fleet of foot. I credit him with saving my life on more than one occasion.”

  Janna was surprised that a noble lord like Hugh should have so little to call his own. But then she remembered that he was entirely dependent on his aunt for everything, including the manor farm he managed in her name until such time as his cousin was old enough to take it on for himself.

  “Service to the earl in battle is one way I can win riches and land for myself,” Hugh continued. “It’s the dream of every landless knight, but it’s not a dream to be proud of. You snatch the spoils of battle, those horses that have been abandoned, and the armor of dead men. You loot villages wherever you may, and burn what’s left so the enemy can find no succor. Most important of all, you hope to capture a baron and hold him to ransom, knowing that the silver paid for his release will buy you land and wealth of your own in the future.”

  Janna gazed at Hugh, amazed that he would admit so much to her, yet with a knot of sickness in her stomach that told her he spoke the truth. This was the reality of war and its aftermath.

  “Most young knights go willingly to battle, but some who do not need the spoils of war live in dread of a call to arms. Like my uncle. Unfortunately for him, every last man was pressed into service before the siege of Winchestre. And it’s become a battle we’re unlikely to win.”

  “Of course, the earl knew he’d be unable to forge a new alliance with the Bishop of Winchestre. That’s why he brought you all here, to decide the matter once and for all.” Janna stopped abruptly, realizing she was giving Hugh secret information.

  “You’re remarkably well informed.” For a drudge in a tavern. The words hung between them, even though Hugh did not utter them.

  “You hear all sorts of things in a place like this, my lord,” she said hastily. She wished she knew what had prompted Hugh’s warning and why he seemed so down-hearted and uncomfortable – he hadn’t seemed so when she’d spied him in the high street with Hamo. She wanted to ask what had brought them all here, but to ask him outright would be to admit she’d known he was in Winchestre before his appearance at the tavern. “And how is your family, my lord? How fares the young lord?” she asked instead.

  “Hamo is well.” Hugh hesitated. “In fact, he’s here too, but in the circumstances, I wish he wasn’t!”

  “He’s here in Winchestre!” Janna was horrified.

  “He’s not here in the heart of things, he’s on a manor farm near Tuiforde with his nurse, Cecily.” Hugh stopped, looking even more uncomfortable. His gaze switched from Janna to a point across the room. “They’re staying with Geoffrey fitz William and his wife.”

  “And did you bring your cousin to visit them, my lord?”

  Hugh nodded. “My aunt decided that it would be good for Hamo to meet Sire Geoffrey, for as soon as Hamo is old enough he will join the lord’s household to learn about a knight’s duties and responsibilities, just as all young squires must do, and just as I did too.”

  “You spent some of your boyhood with Sire Geoffrey?” Janna was fascinated to hear of Hugh’s early life, for she’d always supposed he’d lived at Babestoche with his aunt until moving to her manor near Wicheford. Yet she’d learned that it was common practice for the sons of nobility to be brought up in the households of other family members, or friends, although Hamo still seemed far too young for such a doting mother to let her only child out of her sight.

  Still avoiding Janna’s gaze, Hugh said, “Our families have known each other for a long time.”

  “And y
ou came to keep your cousin company?” Janna hinted, with a questioning glance at Godric. Why was he here too?

  “My aunt suggested that I bring Hamo to meet Sire Geoffrey. She told me to accompany him, said it was in my best interests to do so. Of course, there was no hint of this trouble brewing, not then.”

  “And?” Janna prompted, knowing there was more to this tale than Hugh had confessed so far. She knew she was taking a liberty in pushing him, but plagued as she was by curiosity, she was determined to find out why he seemed so uncomfortable.

  “And Sire Geoffrey has a daughter. Eleanor.”

  “Ah.” Janna was beginning to understand what Hugh wasn’t telling her. “And is Sire Geoffrey’s daughter betrothed – or wed?” she asked innocently.

  “No.”

  Janna waited for Hugh to elaborate on his answer. When he stayed silent, she decided she would have to push him further. “And is she of an age to wed? Is she beautiful, my lord?” She looked quickly at Godric, and found him staring at Hugh with an unreadable expression.

  Hugh hesitated. “Yes, she is old enough to wed,” he said finally. And then added in a more definite tone, “And yes, she looks well enough.”

  “She is a comely woman, you said so yourself, sire,” Godric exclaimed hotly.

  “True.” But Hugh didn’t sound particularly enthusiastic, and in that one word Janna read his reluctance to commit to a marriage that he needed but didn’t want. Perhaps seeking to avoid further questions, Hugh rushed into an explanation. “Fortunately, Sire Geoffrey’s property is some miles south of Winchestre. Once the battle started and the queen’s troops began to encircle the town, we felt that Hamo would be safer there than attempting the journey home. It will give him a chance to become acquainted with Sire Geoffrey’s household.”