Day of Judgment: The Janna Chronicles 6

by Felicity Pulman

  “Then you’ll take me with you.” The girl raised a triumphant, tear-stained face to smirk at Janna.

  “No, he won’t.” Sister Anne bustled in, alerted by the noise. “With respect, sire, your daughter’s interests will be better served if she stays here with me.”

  Richildis let out a loud shriek. John stood up, looking undecided. Richildis clung to his hand and would not let him go.

  Sister Anne tightened her lips. “May I speak to you in private, sire?”

  John freed himself from Richildis’s grasp and followed the nun out. Janna and Richildis looked at each other.

  “I will come with you,” the girl hissed. “I won’t let you take him away from me again.”

  Janna sighed, feeling both impatience and concern over her half-sister’s histrionics, and alarm on her own account, should Richildis get her own way. She couldn’t afford the distraction of having to watch her back all the time if she accompanied them. Freeing Godric was her priority; she didn’t have time to deal with the girl’s poisonous resentment.

  “Sister Anne is right. You need help,” she said mildly. “It’s better if you stay here.”

  “Sister Anne is in league with you.”

  “Nonsense!”

  Richildis raised herself from her bed and leaned toward Janna. “You won’t get away with this. If you say anything against me, I’ll tell my father that you are a thief and…and I’ll say you tried to harm me!”

  Shocked, Janna took a hasty step back and stared at her half-sister. A simmering rage shook her as the hurtful words sank in. “You’ll do no such thing, for I already know the truth about you, Richildis. And so does our father.” Even if he won’t admit it. “We found the phial that contained the hemlock outside the kitchen window where you threw it,” she continued. “We also know whose idea it was to mark the poisoned pastry with the heart.”

  Richildis drew in a breath with a sudden hiss.

  “As for the spider in Giles’s shoe? And Rosy’s rag baby? Those are a child’s tricks,” Janna continued remorselessly. “A mean, vindictive child, and not a very clever one either, when it came to hiding your mother’s brooch among my possessions. Did you really think I’d take the blame and not try to find out the truth?”

  Richildis didn’t answer. Her face was white, her eyes burning with rage. She began to shake.

  “And the other things that went missing – I’m sure you can tell us where they are?” Still Richildis stayed silent. “No?” Janna took a step closer and glared at her. “It’s time you looked into your heart, Richildis. It’s time to see yourself for what you really are: a spoilt, spiteful little – ”

  “That’s enough!” John’s thunderous roar from the doorway stopped Janna mid-flow. At once she felt shame that he’d witnessed her assessment of her half-sister’s character, yet she could not take back what she’d just said. Nor, she reflected, did she really want to do so. It was time the truth was spoken, so that her father could see how badly damaged Richildis was.

  “Is this the truth?”

  Richildis quaked before her father’s icy glare. The silence lengthened; finally she nodded.

  “Good God! Why?”

  “I think you already know the reason.” Sister Anne had been standing behind John, listening, but now she came forward and fixed Richildis with a glare of her own. “It’s best if you stay here with me, and let your half-sister and father go about their business in peace,” she said firmly. “While you are here, you can assist me, for I have need of an extra pair of hands. I’ve found in the past that making oneself useful in the service of our Lord can mend most upsets of the heart and the mind, and it seems to me that, in your case, there is a great deal of mending to be done.”

  Richildis looked from her father to the infirmarian, then stared down at her feet, mute with rage and hostility.

  “Goodbye, Sister Anne.” Janna bid the nun a hasty farewell. She said nothing to Richildis, for she couldn’t think of anything to say. She left, hoping her father would follow her. She was desperate to be gone before anything happened to change his mind about leaving Richildis behind.

  To her relief, she heard his footsteps behind her. She kept on walking, but he quickly caught up with her. “Did you know all along that Richildis was to blame for trying to discredit you? To bring about your death?” he queried.

  “No. I blamed your wife.” Janna wondered if she should tell him she still wasn’t sure if Richildis had been acting on Blanche’s instructions some of the time.

  “I had no idea.” John put his arm around Janna’s shoulders. “I’m so very sorry that my family have made you so unwelcome, that they’ve been so unpleasant to you,” he said awkwardly, as they came out into the courtyard and made their way to the stables.

  Janna shrugged. “I expect I would have felt the same in their position,” she admitted.

  “I shall make it up to you once we return home, I promise you that.” John’s mouth tightened into a grim line. “And I shall ensure justice and reparation for your mother’s death when I haul Robert of Babestoche before the abbess and her court.”

  Chapter 7

  There were only a few miles to ride between Wiltune and Babestoche, and Janna spent all of them tormented by the one question that had haunted her ever since she first heard the news: What if she was too late and Godric was already dead, hanged for a crime he didn’t commit? She trotted decorously beside her father while all the time she wanted to urge her horse into a wild gallop, to reach Dame Alice’s manor as quickly as possible and find out the worst, although she dreaded what she might find once she got there. Her emotions were coiled into a tight spring; it took all her self-control not to burst apart.

  “You realize I cannot just walk in and accuse this man.” Her father broke the silence that had fallen between them. “This young woman must bear witness against him. Cecily? Is that her name?”

  Janna nodded. “I don’t know if I can persuade her to speak out,” she said. “She is very loyal to Dame Alice. She won’t wish to hurt her by telling the truth of her liaison with the dame’s husband, and its consequences. Nor will she want to jeopardize her chances with – with any future husband. She’s also very frightened of Robert.”

  “I don’t suppose she wants to admit her shame either,” John commented dryly.

  “I doubt she had much choice in the matter, once Robert singled her out,” Janna snapped, annoyed that her father automatically blamed Cecily for the affair.

  “True.”

  “Besides, she truly believed that he loved her and that she loved him.” Janna hesitated, wondering how she should broach the matter of the dead girl, or even if it was wise to do so. “Papa,” she began, “I have been told of another young woman at the manor who was expecting a child, and who is now dead.”

  “Do you believe this same man is responsible?”

  “I think it likely. But someone else has been blamed for the girl’s death.” Janna paused, conscious of the need to keep Godric’s name out of her account. “She was found drowned in the millrace, caught up in the wheel. Her death may even have been an accident. Or suicide. I-I would like to see her body, if that is possible, for my mother taught me ways to ascertain the true nature of death, and it may be that I can help shed light on what really happened to her.” She took a breath. “I also need to talk to the man they accuse of this foul deed. I am told that most people think he is innocent of this crime, but he may have some useful information. Can you help me with this, Papa?” Just the thought of Godric being held in captivity brought her close to tears, but she could not let her father see how much this meant to her, how much was at stake.

  He was watching her, and it seemed he understood that there was more to this enquiry than mere curiosity. “Why?” he asked bluntly.

  “I’m told that Robert of Babestoche is in a hurry to see this man hang for the crime. I find that suspicious in itself. I want to be sure that justice is done.”

  “Very well. But you do understand
that I cannot accuse the lord without proof, and I’m relying on you to provide it.” John nudged his mount with his heels and they rode on, skirting the great forest where once Janna had roamed with her mother, gathering wild herbs and flowers and even trapping birds and small animals to sustain them through the lean and hungry months. They passed through the centers of Bredecumbe and Berford, where once they had traded goods in the market place. Janna felt the clutch and tug of painful memories as she guided her horse past wandering livestock, avoiding where she could the steaming piles of dung and scraps of waste that littered the narrow streets. She was fairly sure that any who had known her in the past would not recognize her now, but kept her head bent, just in case. There was no time to waste on greetings and explanations.

  Hurry, hurry, hurry. The word beat a soft refrain in her mind as they rode on to Babestoche. She recognized that she was riding into danger, for Robert hated and feared her and had tried on several occasions to have her silenced forever. But his assassin was now in prison, so either he must find another and at once, or else be prepared to act himself. Would he have the courage, now that she was under her father’s protection?

  Yes, she decided, for his life and his livelihood were at stake. It was his word against hers, and it would certainly benefit him if she was no longer alive to bear witness. She would have to be alert and on guard at all times.

  They were brought first into Dame Alice’s presence, and she gave Janna’s father a courteous and respectful welcome, which broadened into pleasure as she turned to Janna. “Hugh told me that you’d found your father, my lady,” she said, with a quick glance at John. “I am so sorry we did not know of him before.”

  Janna knew they were both thinking of how badly her mother had been treated. Yet she still felt kindly toward the dame, who had done her best to champion her in difficult circumstances. So she made no comment, but instead asked anxiously, “I am told that Hugh’s steward has been accused of murder. Is it possible to see him, please?”

  She closed her eyes and waited, with nerves aquiver, for Dame Alice’s response. Please, she prayed silently, please don’t tell me I’m too late.

  “Of course, you knew him in the past, didn’t you?”

  Janna’s relief that the dame hadn’t mentioned Godric by name was tempered by the sinking realization that she hadn’t answered her question either. “May I see him?”

  Dame Alice inclined her head. Janna went limp with relief. She wasn’t too late after all.

  “But you shall not see him on your own!” John said sharply. “The man is up on a criminal charge. I shall come with you, Johanna.”

  “No!” Realizing how close she was to giving herself away, Janna tried for a better answer. “Is your nephew here with you, my lady?” she asked, hoping that Hugh would not have deserted Godric. “Perhaps he could come with me instead? He knows the accused very well, whereas you do not, Papa.”

  “I shall be honored to accompany you.” Hugh was standing in the shadows behind his aunt; Janna hadn’t noticed him come in and his voice gave her a sharp jolt of surprise.

  “Hugh! My lord.” The honorific came automatically, from long usage.

  “My lady.” He bowed to her, and Janna realized how far their respective statuses had been reversed.

  “It is a great pleasure to see you again.” She held out her hand, felt it grasped and held tight. He looked into her eyes and she read in his expression his love and longing, and also his regret at having lost her. She freed her hand, hardening her heart against him. “Are you well?” she asked, adding a gentle reminder: “And your wife? How does she fare?”

  “She is with child.” A momentary gleam lightened Hugh’s face into something resembling happiness.

  “That is good news indeed.” Janna was genuinely delighted. She quickly introduced Hugh to her father, while reminding him that he’d attended Hugh’s marriage to Eleanor in Winchestre. “Shall we go now to talk to…to your steward?”

  “I should prefer to come with you,” John fretted.

  “No, Papa. Stay and – and speak to Dame Alice. And her husband, Lord Robert.” Janna hoped her father had noted her emphasis, and that he would take this opportunity to learn more about the man behind her mother’s murder.

  “My husband will be pleased to welcome you, sire,” the dame said quickly. “Perhaps I can offer you some refreshments while we wait for him? He’s out speaking to our reeve, but I expect him back within the hour.”

  John hesitated, then agreed. Wasting no more time, Janna left the solar, followed by Hugh.

  “How is Godric?” she asked anxiously, once they were out of hearing.

  “Swearing his innocence. But it doesn’t look good,” Hugh answered tersely.

  “On what grounds? Surely anyone who knows him cannot believe – ”

  “He was seen with his arm around the girl, in a close and loving position.”

  For a moment Janna felt her heart constrict as she imagined Godric embracing another woman. But he had told her that he loved her and no-one else. She trusted him, would trust him with her life as well as her love. So, no matter how things might have appeared, the witness had misinterpreted the scene and Godric’s arrest was a nonsense. Besides, she knew how kind he was; if he had his arm around the young woman it was because she was distressed and in need of comfort. But why? Janna needed to find the answer, for Godric’s life depended on it.

  “Who saw Godric with the young woman?”

  “One of my aunt’s attendants. She claims she’s seen Godric with the dead girl on more than one occasion.”

  “How can that be, when Godric spends his time at your manor rather than here?”

  Hugh shrugged. “It is usually Godric who brings reports of our manor to my aunt, and carries back her instructions. In truth, I have come to trust him in everything, my lady.”

  “For the Lord’s sake, call me Janna. Or Johanna, if you prefer.” Janna thought for a moment. “Have you ever heard Godric speak of the dead girl? What’s her name?”

  “Her name is Isabel. Was Isabel. And no, I’ve not heard Godric mention her name – until now.”

  “Was – was Godric courting her?” It was a question she had to ask, even though she couldn’t believe it to be true. Not after the kiss they’d shared at Winchestre; not after the vows of love and fidelity they’d exchanged.

  “Godric says he hardly knows her. If he’s courting anyone, it would be Cecily.” The answer came promptly, but then Hugh frowned. “That is, I know Cecily would like to wed Godric, but he has never spoken of her or of anyone else.”

  Godric would need to ask Hugh’s permission to wed if it was on his mind. In spite of her anxiety, Janna smiled. Godric was still true to her.

  “Has Isabel’s name been linked with anyone else?”

  “Not that I’ve heard. Perhaps we should ask Godric that question.” While they’d been talking, Hugh had led Janna across the yard to a collection of barns and outbuildings, and now he paused beside a door that was secured with a padlock. A key stuck out of it. Janna’s heart was hammering so hard she wondered if she was about to swoon. She leaned against the wall and braced herself.

  Hugh turned the key, and Janna followed him into the shed. It took her a moment to become accustomed to the darkness, but then she saw the figure of a man standing beside the far wall. A well-remembered voice said, “My lord?” and she pushed forward, unable to bear the space between them any longer. She seized his hands.

  “Godric!” His gaze met hers, and she read in his eyes all the love and longing she was sure were reflected in her own. But there was also a growing sense of loss, and something else which she couldn’t name or understand.

  “My lady.” He loosed his hands and bowed to her.

  Janna couldn’t speak, she was so shaken by his gesture. She stared at him with hungry eyes, absorbing every detail of the man she’d feared she might never see again. She remembered Godric’s confident air that had always told the world he was his own man, and co
mfortable within his skin. But now his shoulders were slumped; his eyes had shuttered against her, while his backward step put more than a mile of distance between them.

  Hugh broke the tense silence. “It’s such a surprise to see you here at Babestoche, my lady. I can’t think of anyone better to help you out of this coil, can you, Godric?”

  “Janna. My name is Janna.” She was still staring at Godric. “I’ve longed to see you again,” she said, desperate to reignite the flame that had once burned between them.

  “You have no place here, my lady.”

  “Godric!” Janna couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I want to be here, with you! There’s no place else I’d rather be.”

  “I’ve been accused of a crime, my lady; a crime for which I shall hang. Please – ” his tone was desperate now, “ – please go away!”

  “No!” Janna’s heart was wrung by his words. “I won’t leave until you tell me everything you know about this girl’s death. I know you’re innocent of this charge and I will not rest until I have found out the truth.”

  Godric’s head came up. There was fire in his eyes as he retorted, “You are the daughter of a nobleman, with a fine future ahead of you. It’s not seemly for you to involve yourself in the affairs of a common serf. I won’t have it!”

  “It’s not for you to say what I shall and shall not do,” Janna retorted just as sharply. “Your life is at stake, Godric, and I care about that! I will not let you be blamed for something you didn’t do.”

  Godric glared at her. Janna glared back at him. Hugh looked from one to the other in confusion.

  “You must tell me everything, Godric,” Janna insisted. “Where you went and what you did on the day that Isabel died. Tell me also what you know about the dead girl.”

  “I didn’t kill her, my lady.”

  “For the Lord Christ’s sake, Godric, my name is Janna! And I know you didn’t kill her. What we have to do is find out who did. But the first question to ask is: Could her death have been an accident?”