Janna Mysteries 1 & 2 Bindup

  A group of peasants beating through the edge of the forest beyond caught Janna’s eye. Urk’s mother was among them, and Janna hastened to join them. Edwin could take care of himself; it was Hamo who occupied her thoughts now. A quick glance confirmed that Urk was not part of the group. She made a beeline for Mistress Wulfrun, hoping her suspicions might prove correct.

  ‘Mistress,’ she greeted her. ‘I’ve been looking for Urk … Gabriel. Do you know where he might be?’

  Urk’s mother nodded. ‘He went off with the other children to search the barn,’ she muttered, looking worried.

  ‘Was he alone, do you know?’

  ‘No, I told you. He was with the other children.’ Mistress Wulfrun shot a suspicious glance at Janna. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘I wondered if he might have gone somewhere to play ball with a special friend, perhaps?’

  ‘Ball?’ Mistress Wulfrun couldn’t have looked more confused if Janna had asked whether Urk had grown wings and flown up to the moon.

  Janna nodded thoughtfully. Hamo might have the leisure to play ball games, but it seemed that Urk did not.

  ‘And did Gabriel sleep in his bed last night?’

  Mistress Wulfrun drew herself up to her full height and glared at Janna. ‘He was not out setting fire to a haystack, if that’s what you’re trying to suggest.’

  ‘No!’ Janna was sorry to have offended Urk’s mother. She wasn’t sure how to put things right. ‘It’s just that the young lord loves to play with his ball. I wondered if Gabriel had gone off to play a game with him, that’s all.’

  ‘Gabriel has no time to play games.’ Mistress Wulfrun strode on, calling out Hamo’s name as she went. Janna clicked her tongue impatiently as she realised she hadn’t had an answer to her question. She left the villeins to their search and went back to the manor, dragging Bones on the rope behind her. The clanging tones of the bell followed her passage. Janna scrutinised the knots of people coming and going, wishing more than anything to recognise Hamo among them. Although several small figures brought her to a heart-thumping halt, closer inspection always revealed them to be some other child. She hurried inside the gate and went looking for Urk and his friends.

  Oblivious to the urgency of their task and the real danger to Hamo, the children were having a game, throwing hay about and shrieking with delight. Urk was by far the oldest, but he also seemed to be having the most fun. She drew him aside. ‘Have you seen Hamo, Gabriel?’ she asked.

  He shook his head. ‘Hamo’s lost,’ he said helpfully.

  ‘I know. I wondered if you’d seen him. Did you maybe go somewhere to play ball with him?’

  ‘Ball?’ Urk looked just as puzzled as his mother.

  ‘Did you see Hamo today? Do you know where he is?’ Janna tried again.

  ‘No. Hamo’s lost.’ Urk bent down to pat Bones. ‘Nice dog.’ Bones’s tail twitched in acknowledgment.

  Janna sighed, feeling 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 looked up at the sky. The sun had begun to fall towards the earth; it would be dark within a few more 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 about everywhere, but she still had no answers to give Serlo, and no idea where to find them either. What was she to do? With dragging steps, 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 its side like ticks to a dog. Behind the manor stretched the cultivated fields, stripes of ripening corn interspersed with patches of dark, fallow earth. A small copse of trees stood to one side, jutting into some of the strips and cutting the field into an awkward shape. 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. ‘Sshh.’ 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 realised the full extent of his holding. Gytha would do well to encourage him, Janna thought now, for her chances of improving her station were far greater with Serlo than they 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, she had to admit that in Gytha’s position she’d also be hoping for a future with Hugh rather than plighting her troth with Serlo.

  With an effort, she dragged her thoughts back to the more pressing matter of the missing boy. ‘Has anyone looked in Serlo’s cottage for Hamo?’ As she spoke, Janna gestured towards it. Bones strained on his leash beside her, still whining.

  ‘Yes, indeed.’ Mistress Wulfrun caught hold of Janna’s arm. ‘Don’t think to go searching there, John. Master Serlo will not take kindly to anyone trespassing on his property. Besides, I saw him go in for his dinner at noon. 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 my lord Hugh 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 horrible to contemplate. As Janna walked on, calling Hamo’s name in the silences left between the clanging tones of the bell, she wondered 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 beside herself 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, who continued to bark and pull on his rope to get free.

  Janna was just 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 and her arms were wrapped around to muffle the sounds she was making. She didn’t hear Janna approach.

  ‘Cecily.’ Janna put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. At Janna’s touch, the tiring woman leapt in fright and shied away. ‘Oh, it’s you, Janna,’ she said then, 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. ‘My lord Hugh has gone to tell Dame Alice that Hamo is missing. Ma dame 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. This time she didn’t pull away when she felt Janna’s embrace, but leaned into Janna and wept even harder.

  No wonder Cecily was hurting, Janna thought. She had loved Robert once, loved him enough to forget all honour, and all loyalty and gratitude to Dame Alice, Robert’s 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 the disappearance of Dame Alice’s beloved only child. There was nothing Janna could say to ease Cecily’s pain or make things right fo
r her. All she could do, all anyone could do, was look for Hamo and pray that he’d be found before it was too late.

  Janna continued to hold Cecily, patting her arm as she did so. ‘Hush,’ she said at last, offering what little comfort she could. ‘Everyone’s out searching for Hamo. I’m sure he’ll be found soon.’ She wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t prepared to give up hope either. ‘Maybe we can put our heads together, and see if we can make some sense of all this?’

  Cecily nodded, and gave a forlorn sniff. Encouraged, Janna asked, ‘When did you last see Hamo, Cecily? How did he come to run away?’

  ‘I know not.’ Cecily gave her eyes a fierce scrub on her sleeve, and sniffed again. ‘I was called away to the kitchen to speak to the cook about Hamo’s meals. I asked him to come with me 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 and realised 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. Hamo couldn’t find it. He 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, in the kitchen garden,’ she said. ‘There was no sign of Hamo.’

  ‘But Hamo and I looked here just before he disappeared. Bones wasn’t here then.’

  ‘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 very 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. ‘Tell me about my lord Hugh. Where does he go? Does he spend much time with you in the hall and in the solar?’

  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. I wondered if he might 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 enamoured with Hugh. She wasn’t then, but perhaps that, too, had changed in the time Janna had been gone. Janna wished she could undo her question.

  ‘Gytha?’ Cecily echoed 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 had thought, still she couldn’t help feeling sadness at being reminded that if Gytha was beneath Hugh’s attention, she herself must come even lower. Then she remembered 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’s voice broke into Janna’s thoughts. ‘He goes out every day to inspect the fields, and see what’s to be done about the manor, and make sure that all is as it should be. He’s told me of his concern that the manor isn’t more productive. 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 favour so that she will let him keep the manor for himself after young Hamo comes of age.’

  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 yet have some useful knowledge for Janna.

  ‘Who are the visitors that travelled with you through the forest? Where are they bound?’ she asked, feeling sure Cecily would have taken more interest in them than Gytha, and that she’d be able to give a better answer. It might be, she thought hopefully, that the travellers could tell her the way to Winchestre. They might even be going there themselves. If that was the case, maybe she could follow them.

  A sudden memory troubled her. Edwin had been present when the travellers arrived – and he’d been missing ever since. Had he already interrogated them about Winchestre? Was that why he’d vanished? Or had he disappeared for another reason entirely? She became aware that Cecily was watching her, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  ‘You’re always asking questions,’ Cecily observed, ‘and always to a purpose. What’s on your mind, Janna?’

  Janna was tempted to trust Cecily with her plans but knew that she should not, for she could do nothing nor go anywhere until Hamo was found. ‘Nothing in particular is on my mind,’ she lied. ‘I’m just trying to work out who Hamo might be with, or where he might be. I’m trying to help, mistress.’

  ‘I doubt Hamo’s gone anywhere with the visitors.’ Cecily thought for a moment. ‘In fact, I know he hasn’t, for I saw them with Serlo, taking part in the search.’ Her voice shook; she fought for control.

  ‘Who are they? Where are they from?’ Janna asked again. It seemed unlikely that strangers could be responsible for Hamo’s disappearance for 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 to her, for in that might lie the answer to another disappearance and a solution 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. Janna nodded as her suspicion was confirmed. ‘Why have they come here?’ she asked carefully.

  ‘They stopped to break their journey because one of their horses is lame. Their destination is Winchestre and they plan to be there in time for the annual fair of St Giles.’ Cecily sounded troubled as she added, ‘But I think there might be another purpose to their travels. I heard them ask my lord Hugh if he’d seen or given shelter to any outlaws over the past few months.’

  ‘Outlaws?’ Janna’s voice squeaked upwards in horror at the realisation that Edwin’s secret must be known to Hugh. With an effort, she tried to control her agitation. ‘What did my lord tell them?’

  ‘He asked if the outlaw was travelling on his own. When Master Siward said “yes”, my lord replied that he had not come across any man travelling alone. Oh!’ Cecily caught her breath. ‘Is that … is he Edwin? Is Edwin him?’

  Janna was sorry, now, that she’d questioned Cecily. She was sure the tiring woman would not have worked it out if she hadn’t prompted her to 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 migh
t have been murdered in our beds!’

  ‘Nonsense!’ Janna could understand Edwin’s disappearance 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 mean and unworthy when she remembered her suspicions about him, yet she knew she must not trust him unless and until she could prove him innocent of any knowledge of Hamo’s disappearance.

  ‘If my lord Hugh has kept Edwin’s secret, and mine, I beg you to do the same,’ she pleaded. ‘Besides, Edwin has left the manor. I think those men have frightened him away.’ For all she knew, it was true.

  ‘Thank goodness for that.’ Cecily breathed a soft sigh of relief. She climbed to her feet, and stretched out her hand to Janna to pull her up. ‘I must get back,’ she said, and looked suddenly awkward. ‘Janna, I hate to see you as you are. I wish you –’

  ‘It’s all right. I don’t mind.’ Janna brushed dust and grass seeds from her breeches. ‘You go on ahead. You shouldn’t be seen with me. It might cause talk.’

  Cecily hesitated. ‘Go on.’ Janna gave her a push. ‘I’ll follow you.’

  A mournful tolling spoke the message 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 back 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 commenced its mournful tolling once more, calling out to the lost boy, summoning him home.

  A wave of desolation swept over Janna. She was sure now that Hamo was not lost, but had been taken by someone and hidden somewhere. If he was lost, or had met with some misadventure, he would have been found. Could that mean that he was still alive? Janna took some comfort from the thought, even while she struggled against naming the only man who could wish Hamo harm.