She hadn’t gone far when she heard a shout. ‘He’s here!’ Immediately she turned and raced downstream in the direction Godric had taken. After a few 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 up towards 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 to help Hamo. There was a bloody gash across his forehead, but Janna noticed one of his eyelids twitch and felt a huge surge of relief.
She cast her mind back into the past, to a time when she and her mother had passed two villeins arguing over possession of a pig. As they’d passed by on their way to market, the argument had escalated over whose pig it was to sell. Punches were thrown, and finally 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 get him out of the water. Janna remembered what her mother had done. ‘Put Hamo down!’ she told Godric.
‘We have to get him back to the manor house.’ Godric’s pace didn’t check.
‘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 straddled the boy’s back and pressed down hard. 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 at last the boy began to cough and splutter. He took in a great whoop of air, and began to breathe on his own. But he was incapable of speech, so Janna turned to Godric. ‘Where did you find him? What happened to him?’
‘He was in the river, lying face down. Drowning.’
‘I can see that,’ 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. It’s lucky we found him in time.’
‘How did it happen? Can you tell?’
Godric shrugged. ‘He must have slipped and fallen into the river.’
‘What about that wound on his forehead? Do you think he might first have been hit over the head and then pushed?’
‘Why should anyone want to do that?’ Godric squatted beside Janna, who had her arm around Hamo now and was helping him to sit up. ‘What’s going on? Why are you asking me these questions?’
‘I can’t tell you.’ Janna wasn’t done yet. She had one final question, but she dreaded hearing the answer.
‘Did you notice any rue nearby? I mean a posy picked, not rue growing wild?’
‘No. But I wasn’t looking for anything like that.’ Godric lifted a questioning eyebrow. ‘Why should there be a posy of rue lying about?’
‘It’s for regret. Repentance.’
‘I wish you’d explain yourself, Janna.’ Godric lifted the boy into his arms once more. ‘But I know that you don’t care to explain anything to me, anything at all.’ His tone was bitter as he strode off in the direction of the manor house, leaving Janna to scurry after him.
A great cry went up as they came inside the gate. It was clear Cecily had confessed to losing Hamo, for everyone came running from all directions to welcome them back. Hugh was at the forefront of the crowd. As Godric made to hand Hamo over to his cousin, Hamo wriggled free. ‘I can walk by myself,’ he announced with dignity, and bent to pat the mangy dog that had followed them in.
‘What happened, Hamo?’ Hugh asked the question that Janna most feared.
‘Nothing.’ The boy looked up, all injured innocence now.
‘Tell me!’ Hugh folded his arms and waited, hiding his concern with an appearance of exasperation.
‘I … I wanted to find Bones.’ Hamo made to take the dog in his arms but it bared its teeth and whined softly. Hamo backed off.
‘I’m afraid the dog followed me when I left the manor, sire,’ Godric admitted.
Hamo shot him a grateful glance. ‘I saw Godric going towards the river. He didn’t know I was following him,’ he added, determined that Godric shouldn’t get any blame for what had happened. ‘When I got there I couldn’t see him, or Bones, but I guessed he went downriver and that’s where I went. But Godric must have gone the other way.’
Janna waited somewhat anxiously for Hugh to ask why Godric had gone up the river at all instead of crossing the ford and heading for home.
‘What happened to you? Why are you so wet?’ Fortunately for Godric, Hugh was much more interested in Hamo.
Hamo shrugged. ‘I followed the path of the river a little way. I thought Bones might have fallen in but I couldn’t see through all the reeds so I came close to the edge to have a look and … and I slipped and fell.’ He touched the gash across his forehead, and winced when he saw the blood on his fingers. ‘I s’pose I must have hit my head.’
It was possible Hamo’s admission gave his dignity even more of a battering than his head and clothes had taken in the river, Janna thought. She heaved a deep sigh of relief as his words sank into her understanding. An accident, no more than that. ‘Godric saved me.’ Hamo looked at Janna. ‘And also …’
‘John,’ Janna said firmly, before Hamo could say her name in front of everyone.
‘And I thank you for it.’ Hugh gave Janna a searching glance, then took Hamo by the hand. ‘A hot bath for you, young man. Mistress Cecily!’ He beckoned her forward, then turned to Godric. ‘I’d like a word with you too,’ he said, and hurried off. Godric exchanged an anxious glance with Cecily as they followed Hugh. ‘I’ll make up an ointment to put on the young lord’s cuts and bruises,’ Janna called after them, resolving to use some of the ointment to treat her ankle, where the dog’s teeth had left their mark. Cecily lifted her hand to show that she’d heard, and kept on going. Ignored and forgotten, the dog trailed them up the stairs and into the hall.
With the drama over, the rest of the crowd began to disperse, the two visitors among them. Janna watched them leave. She wondered who they were and why they were visiting the manor. One was finely dressed. His tunic was richly embroidered and his boots were made of good leather, though scratched and stained with mud and muck. The journey through the forest had left its mark. His companion was more plainly dressed, and walked a pace or two behind his master. She looked about for Edwin to ask him who the lordling was. He was always quick to hear the gossip from the kitchen staff. There was no sign of him, but Gytha was still lingering, and as she caught Janna’s glance, she smiled and came over.
‘That boy will be in trouble for running away,’ she observed, and wrinkled her nose. ‘I hope he doesn’t expect us to find shelter for that smelly, flea-bitten bag of bones he’s found.’
Janna hid a smile. She was quite sure that Hamo had every intention of keeping his pet. She was also quite sure that the boy would prove more than a match for Gytha when it came to getting his own way. ‘We have visitors, I see,’ she responded.
‘Master Siward and his manservant. They go to the great fairs to buy and to sell for their lord, but one of their horses is lame so they must break their journey here for a while.’ Gytha shrugged, clearly uninterested.
‘And have they travelled far?’
‘They come from somewhere in the west.’ Gytha yawned, and then brightened as a more interesting subject came into her mind. ‘Master Siward paid me a great deal of attention when I served the wine and cakes. I do believe my lord Hugh was quite put out by his interest.’ She gave a self-satisfied giggle. Janna wanted to hit her, but turned away instead, telling herself that her jealousy was unworthy. The girl was beautiful, and if Hugh wanted
a dalliance with her it was none of Janna’s business.
She remembered her promise to Cecily, and turned her steps towards the kitchen garden. Pangs of hunger reminded her that she’d dropped the sack containing her dinner while she’d tried to resuscitate Hamo. Should she go after it? She sighted the angle of the sun slanting across the downs. No, it would take too long. She would just have to go hungry. The thought contributed to Janna’s misery as she bent to pluck the herbs she needed for the healing ointment.
She was on her way to the kitchen when Godric found her. ‘I was going to leave without seeing you again,’ he said curtly, ‘but I thought you should know, Janna, that your running away has brought ill to my family, to my manor and to the village. I told a lie to Dame Alice and my liege lord, Robert of Babestoche. I told them that you were dead.’
Janna cast a quick glance around, making sure that no-one could hear their conversation. ‘I know, Godric, and I am grateful to you, more grateful than I can say.’
‘But I have been sore punished for the lie.’ Godric spoke over her thanks. ‘The priest has claimed mortuary from me, payment I cannot afford, and –’
‘But why? Why claim mortuary from you?’
‘Because I said that I had buried you in the forest, and because he claims that we were betrothed. He has taken my best goat in payment, even though the abbess has asked nothing from me. Nor has Dame Alice or anyone else. I told the priest he was mistaken about us, but he will not believe me.’ There was such a depth of bitterness in Godric’s voice that Janna couldn’t bear it.
‘I’m so sorry.’ She put her hand on Godric’s arm, but he shook it off and pulled away from her.
‘That’s not the worst of it,’ he said. ‘My mother took ill and died. There was no one to physic her as your mother did last time she had an attack and couldn’t breathe properly. By running away, you’ve left the village without a healer, Janna.’
‘I … but they drove me out!’ Janna spluttered. Surely Godric knew that the villagers had burned her cottage down, that she’d had no choice but to flee?
‘Everyone mourns your death.’ He spoke sincerely.
‘Everyone?’ Janna’s voice raised in anger. ‘The villagers set fire to my cottage, Godric. They didn’t care if I burned along with it. That’s why I ran away. That’s why I didn’t dare show myself even to you!’
He glanced sharply at her. ‘You should have trusted me,’ he muttered.
Janna knew that he was right, but still she tried to justify her actions. ‘I had to go! Don’t you see, it wasn’t safe for me to stay. I thought if I … That is, I didn’t want …’
‘… to see me. I know. You’ve already made that quite clear in the past.’ Godric’s mouth clamped down in a tight, hard line. Without saying goodbye, he turned and strode off towards the gate of the manor.
‘I’m sorry about your mother. I’m so sorry, Godric,’ Janna called after him. But he walked on, not acknowledging that he’d heard her words, or that he’d forgiven her.
There was still no sign of Edwin when at last, weary and hungry, Janna went to her bed. Although she felt concern, she told herself that Edwin was free to come and go about the manor as he pleased. What crowded into Janna’s mind now were the events of the day. So much had happened to trouble and distress her. She felt great anger and impatience that she couldn’t explain to Hugh, Godric and Cecily why she’d acted as she had, and great shame as she realised how they must view her now.
‘It’s not fair!’ she muttered rebelliously as she turned and turned again, trying to get comfortable on her prickly straw pallet.
Restless, impatient for action, she lay and listened to the night noises, the snarks and snorts and mumbles of the sleepers. She had planned to leave the manor this very night. In the absence of Edwin, should she now go on her own? Yes, she thought, and half-rose from her bed. She subsided again as more careful thought advised against it. While she wanted most desperately to run away from Hugh, caution told her that she would do better to wait until Edwin could go with her. Alone, she was vulnerable, even if she was dressed as a boy. Edwin’s presence, and their fabricated family history, would protect them both.
Janna passed an uneasy night. The faint light that heralded the dawn found her wakeful and anxious to rise. She scrubbed at her face with her hands and smoothed back her hair, feeling again its silky growth since the fire. She slipped quietly from her bed and pulled her knife from its sheath. She tested its edge with a cautious finger, and frowned. Then she remembered the great whetstone outside the blacksmith’s shop, left in position for the villeins to sharpen their scythes while haymaking. She was bent over the whetstone with her knife when Bertha walked past, carrying a small sack. Janna greeted her cheerfully.
Bertha stopped short, looking startled. ‘What are you doing out here so early, John?’ she asked, not returning Janna’s greeting.
‘Sharpening my knife.’ Janna wondered if she could take advantage of Bertha’s good nature. ‘Are you any good at cutting hair? Will you cut mine?’
Bertha’s attention came full onto Janna then. She hesitated. ‘Does it have to be done now?’
Janna nodded. ‘Yes, if you please, mistress.’ She didn’t want to delay, and the alternative was to cut her hair herself. Without being able to see anything, she knew she’d make an awful job of it.
Bertha sighed. She dropped the sack she was carrying and held out her hand for Janna’s knife, while Janna settled herself down on the stone block within easy reach of Bertha’s hands.
‘How does your family, mistress?’ she asked, to make conversation while Bertha set about hacking at her hair. She tried not to wince as snippets fell about her feet, curled round like small golden snails.
‘What?’
‘Your family. Are they well?’ Janna wondered what preoccupied Bertha, and why she was abroad so early. The sun had not yet arisen. Mist shrouded the cots and turned trees into many-armed ghosts in the pearly light.
‘Yes, my family are well, thank you. And you? Are you well?’
‘Yes, I thank you.’ There seemed no more to say on that topic. What else could they talk about to pass the time? Janna’s thoughts turned to the missing Edwin. ‘I wonder if you’ve seen my brother at all, mistress? He was not in his bed last night, and I’m wondering what has become of him?’
‘Edwin?’ The knife slipped in Bertha’s hand, nicking Janna’s scalp. Janna stifled a cry. She shifted uneasily on her stone seat, wondering at Bertha’s clumsiness. ‘No, I haven’t seen him,’ Bertha continued snappily. ‘Why should you think I have?’
‘No reason,’ Janna said hastily. ‘I’m concerned about him, that’s all.’
‘I expect he’ll turn up soon enough. There!’ Bertha slapped Janna’s shoulders in a hasty dust-up, sending bits of hair scattering in all directions. ‘You look like a boy again, John.’
And what did Bertha mean by that last remark, Janna wondered. Had her disguise worn thin, or had Edwin told her the truth about both of them? Was that why she seemed so anxious for Janna to be gone?
No. Janna dismissed the notion. Edwin’s truth was too dangerous to be told. She was just imagining the worst.
‘Thank you, mistress,’ she said. As she walked past the last of the little cottages towards the manor, she looked back, curious to know where Bertha might be going, but the carpenter’s daughter had already vanished. Hunger drove Janna on to the kitchen, and also the hope that she might find Edwin there, ravenous after his night out and ready to break his fast. She had to jump sideways to avoid the sharp teeth of Bones, who was tethered nearby, before she could enter the door.
‘So there you are,’ Mistress Tova greeted her. ‘And where is your brother?’
‘I know not, mistress. I thought he might be here, having something to eat.’
‘I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon.’ The cook poked her long nose into the air, and sniffed.
Janna tried to hide her disquiet by stuffing a hunk of bread into her mouth
and chewing vigorously, before washing down the mouthful with a gulp of ale. Once her appetite was satisfied, however, she took the chance to question the rest of the kitchen staff. To her alarm, no-one had seen Edwin.
‘Run away and left you to face Serlo alone, most like. I always knew he was no good.’ The cook dusted her floured hands down her apron before adding a final word. ‘Just wonder what he’s taken with him,’ she muttered darkly.
‘Nothing! He’s as honest as I am!’ Even as Janna leapt to Edwin’s defence she remembered how he’d tried to steal her purse. She also remembered all the lies she and Edwin had told. ‘Master Serlo has probably found work for him to do elsewhere about the manor that’s keeping him busy,’ she said, conscious of the rising tide of heat that coloured her face with shame. Yet she had to defend Edwin, and herself, lest the burning of the haystack was laid upon their shoulders, along with the other disasters that had happened recently.
Mistress Tova sniffed again. ‘Master Serlo will keep good watch over your brother. He won’t be able to cause any more trouble while the reeve is there.’
Janna knew what she was thinking, what everyone was probably thinking. She was about to tell the cook off for spreading malicious lies, but stopped herself in time. In the past her hasty words had often caused her trouble, but she was learning from bitter experience to put a guard on her tongue, to think before she spoke.
‘Master Serlo is a good reeve,’ she agreed instead. ‘And a good catch for any girl – even if Mistress Gytha doesn’t want him for a husband,’ she added, hoping to divert the cook from her suspicions.
The cook shot her a sharp glance. Janna tried to look demure, but her eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘’Tis true,’ Mistress Tova acknowledged grudgingly. ‘My lord certainly knows Serlo’s worth, for he treats him well. Serlo has a good-sized cottage, and he was given the gore acres to cultivate for himself. I’ve seen the cartloads of goods that Serlo takes to the big fairs, his own bounty as well as my lord’s, and good quality, all of it. Fetches a good price too, I’ll be bound.’ The cook tapped a bony finger against her long nose. ‘There’ll be no shortage of pretty girls waiting in line when he decides to take a wife. Of course, he’d marry Gytha tomorrow, if she would only have him. I’ve told her she could do a lot worse for herself than marry Serlo, for once young Hamo comes of age …’
Janna Mysteries 1 & 2 Bindup Page 35