Day of Judgment: The Janna Chronicles 6

by Felicity Pulman

  “Why are you so determined to concern yourself in my affairs when I am sure your father would not wish you to do so?”

  Because I love you and I plan to marry you! Janna couldn’t say what was uppermost in her mind, so she said instead, “You have helped me so often in the past, Godric. This is my chance to repay that debt. So please, let’s not waste any more time. Tell me what you know.”

  Godric’s lips tightened. He began a close study of a wasp’s nest stuck to one corner of the shed. “It’s true I saw Isabel shortly before she died,” he muttered. “She was walking by the river in the direction of the mill stream. She seemed in great distress. I put my arm about her, I tried to comfort her. When I asked what ailed her, she sobbed most bitterly. She told me she was in great trouble, that she was with child and feared the father of the child would not marry her.”

  “Why not?”

  Godric shrugged. “She would not say who he was, but I suspect he was already married.”

  “Could she have been going to meet him, do you think?” Janna’s mind was racing ahead, seeing possibilities that she could only hope she would be able to prove.

  “I don’t know.” Godric thought about it. “Maybe,” he said slowly. “She was dressed very fine, almost as if she was going to church.”

  “Would you wear your best dress if you were going to drown yourself?”

  “Suicide, not murder? Is that what you’re thinking?”

  “I’d know more if I could examine her body. Has she been buried yet?”

  “No.” It was Hugh who answered Janna’s question. “I can take you to her, if you like. She lies in the manor’s chapel. It’s not far from here. My aunt has sent word to Isabel’s family, but as yet they have not arrived to claim her.”

  “Very well.” But Janna was reluctant to leave Godric quite so soon. She longed to feel his arms around her, his lips on her own. She leaned into him, and was mortified when he took another step back.

  “Are you well, Godric? Are you happy to see me?” Stupid question, she thought, as he finally looked at her once more; how could he possibly be happy in these circumstances? “I’ve thought of you so often these past months,” she said quickly, wanting to reassure him that no matter his circumstances now, her feelings for him hadn’t changed at all. But his expression filled her with dismay. How cold and remote he seemed, when all of her was on fire with wanting him.

  Godric stayed silent. Beside her, Hugh drew in a breath. Janna was conscious of his suddenly sharpened gaze moving from her to Godric, and back again. But he said nothing, and she was grateful for it.

  “You told me once that you would come to me any time I called, and that you would stay true,” Janna tried again.

  “That was a long time ago, when you had no-one to protect you,” Godric said gruffly. “Our circumstances are very different now. Everything has changed.”

  “But my regard for you has not.” Janna paused, wishing that she was alone with him, that Hugh was not there as witness to what she had to say.

  “There is no future for you here. Better that you go and be an obedient daughter to your father, and live the life he plans for you.”

  “I will not!” Janna swallowed hard over the sudden lump that came into her throat. Godric had risen from humble beginnings to his present station as Hugh’s steward; she had seen his pride in his achievement when she’d met up with him again at the tavern: he, the consort of a nobleman, while she was just a common serving wench. It had made no difference to his treatment of her at the time; it would make no difference to her treatment of him now that their fortunes had reversed in so unexpected a fashion. Godric might feel shame that she should see him cast so low, but she didn’t care about that at all. He’d given his word that he would always love her, and she’d believed him then as she did now. At last she had the chance to prove to him her own love, trust and loyalty.

  Panic churned in her belly. It would all go for naught unless she could solve the riddle of the girl’s death and bring the real culprit to justice before Robert carried out his threat. Godric’s life and her own future depended on it.

  She made an effort to rein in her emotions and order her thoughts. “You say you were seen with Isabel. What do you know about the witness?”

  “I don’t know anything about her at all.”

  “Her name is Amy,” Hugh interposed. “She’s only been with my aunt a short time, but she’s set quite a few hearts aflutter already, I believe.”

  Amy. Janna determined to interview the girl as soon as possible. “And what was she doing near the millrace, did she say?”

  “She says she was on her way home from visiting her family who live nearby.”

  “And what about you, Godric?” Janna kept her voice steady with an effort, for so much depended on his answer. “After you spoke to Isabel, where did you go? What did you do? Can anyone vouch that they saw you elsewhere after your meeting with Isabel?”

  “No, my lady.” It seemed that Godric was determined to make the most of the huge gulf between them. “My business here was finished and so I traveled back to Sire Hugh’s manor,” he continued. “I was alone. I rode part way along the river, then turned and went through the forest, taking the short way. I saw no-one.” He glanced at Janna. She wondered if he was remembering their meeting in the forest when he had saved her from being gored by a wild boar. He had kissed her then, the first of several kisses they had shared. The thought of Godric’s kisses was enough to turn Janna’s bones to water.

  “No witnesses, then.” Janna held his gaze, willing him to remember what had passed between them in the forest. It was Godric who looked away first.

  “No-one has come forward to say they saw him on the journey,” Hugh said. “I’ve asked around, both here and at my own manor.”

  Janna turned to him. “Is there anything at all you can tell me about Isabel?” She knew she was chasing phantoms, but knew also that uncovering the real facts of the matter meant having to unravel a tangle of threads, one by one, before she could weave them into a new pattern, the pattern of truth.

  Hugh hesitated. “I know nothing of Isabel, but I questioned Amy once I arrived here, after I heard that Godric had been arrested. I must say I was unimpressed by her testimony. It wasn’t anything she said so much as the way she said it. As if she knew more than she was telling, almost as if she was glad that her words spelled Godric’s doom.”

  “And what can you tell me about Amy, Godric?”

  “Nothing, for I don’t know her. Nor is there any reason why she should hold a grudge against me. Indeed, she tells the truth of what she saw, but she greatly mistakes the reasoning behind it.”

  “And on that small point your fate rests.” She would go and find Amy just as soon as she’d examined Isabel’s body.

  “I’ll come again to see you,” she promised Godric, as they took their leave. He didn’t say anything, only bobbed his head in an awkward gesture of obeisance. Saddened, Janna left him. Their meeting had not gone at all as she’d expected; nevertheless, she hoped he found some comfort in knowing that he had someone else on his side, determined to prove his innocence. She looked at her companion, glad of his presence. She knew that Hugh would do all in his power to help his trusted steward.

  The small chapel was deserted when they walked in. Hugh guided Janna to a stone slab half-hidden in the shadows at the back of the chapel, where the girl’s body lay. It was fortunate that, although it was summer, the interior remained pleasantly cool, or decomposition would be more advanced than it already was. Even so, there was an unpleasant odor about the body. As she lifted the shroud, Janna saw that flies had already laid their eggs and maggots had begun to feast on the dead girl’s flesh.

  At the sight, Hugh recoiled and began to retch. “Go outside,” Janna told him, even though her stomach was also churning in protest. It was a relief to be left alone with the girl, for she needed to strip off her clothes for a closer inspection.

  She set to work as soon as Hugh
had gone, wincing as the long gown and undergarments came off and the full extent of the girl’s injuries was revealed. Isabel’s body had been battered and broken on the huge wheel. Janna realized now that it would be impossible to tell if any of the wounds had been made before she went into the water.

  Mindful of what she’d done some years ago, when she’d pulled Hamo from the river and pushed on his chest to get the water out of his lungs so that he could breathe again, she pressed down lightly on the girl’s chest. Nothing happened, so she pressed harder. And frowned, not knowing whether to feel glad or fearful. The girl’s lungs, if she’d drowned, should have been full of water, water that should have gushed out of nose and mouth when she’d applied pressure to the girl’s chest. Instead, there was…nothing. The girl hadn’t drowned at all. She must have been dead before she went into the millrace, before her body was pulled downstream and broken on the great wheel. Not suicide, then, nor was it an accident. It was murder.

  Her finding must be in Godric’s favor; he would not have been comforting her if, moments later, he planned to kill her and throw her body into the millrace. But how to find evidence pointing to the real killer? Once more, Janna made a careful examination of Isabel’s body. The small bump that defined the child growing in the girl’s belly brought a rush of pity. She laid her hands on it, and whispered a quiet prayer for the repose of the child’s soul as well as the soul of its mother. No-one deserved to die like this, not least an unborn child, she thought fiercely, and continued her examination.

  At last she straightened, feeling defeated. The body was lacerated and horribly bruised; the girl’s limbs were broken and possibly also her backbone. All of those injuries could have been caused once Isabel was caught on the wheel. There was nothing Janna could point to as evidence of a blow severe enough to kill the girl before she entered the millrace.

  She embarked on another careful examination, then turned the body over so that she could scrutinize the girl’s back. But she found nothing untoward among the bruises and lacerations caused by the wheel.

  She clicked her tongue in frustration, wishing Sister Anne was present. She needed an extra pair of eyes to see what she might be missing. As she pondered the problem, she smoothed the girl’s long hair and began to pick out the bits of weed and twigs caught within the snarled tresses. It suddenly seemed important that Isabel’s family should not see their daughter in such disarray. She wished she had a comb, or even a dried teasel head to help unravel the tangles, for despite her best efforts, the hair still looked unkempt once she was done. Resolving to braid it into tidiness, she lifted up its heavy mass and parted it into three sections. Her action exposed the girl’s thin, fragile neck which, at the hairline, was marred by a small, deep wound. Janna bent close to inspect it, and realized that fortune had worked in her favor, for she had found what she’d been seeking.

  The cut wasn’t wide, but a gentle probing revealed that it was deep enough to be fatal. Janna shuddered as her mind constructed the scene: The innocent girl possibly held in a close embrace, or with her back turned to the murderer as he wielded the dagger. A quick thrust and then a shove into the millrace. Was it chance that the girl had died before she hit the water? It was certainly chance that had led Janna to the truth.

  A small, very thin blade. Or was it a spike, some sort of farming implement? Janna thought that Hugh might know. Before she went outside to summon him, she dressed Isabel, unwilling to subject the girl’s naked body to anyone else’s gaze. Dressing an inert body was difficult and took much longer than she’d expected, but as soon as Isabel looked decent once more, Janna hurried out of the chapel to find Hugh.

  He gave a long, low whistle when Janna showed him the wound at Isabel’s neck and explained her ideas to him of what had probably happened. Unlike Janna, he had no trouble identifying the weapon. “I suspect it was a misericord,” he told her, going on to explain that the long, narrow knife was used to deliver a “mercy stroke” in battle. “It’s thin and sharp enough to penetrate through holes or weak points in armor and put a seriously wounded knight out of his agony,” he said, adding grimly, “not that it was used for that purpose on this occasion.”

  “Would Godric have such a weapon?” The question had to be asked.

  “No. This is a weapon such as a knight would carry. A soldier.” Hugh’s mouth thinned into a grim line. “I own a knife like this…and so does my uncle.”

  Robert of Babestoche. It always came back to him. But to be fair, Janna had to ask another question. “I’m assuming it’s not your knife, Hugh. Would anyone other than Sire Robert own such an object?”

  Hugh thought a moment, frowned, and slowly shook his head. “But my uncle will deny everything, of course,” he said, adding bitterly, “as he always does.”

  What did Hugh mean? How much did he know of his uncle’s philandering? For that matter, how much did Dame Alice know? Janna was tempted to tell Hugh about Cecily, and the truth of her own mother’s death. There was so much at stake, and she was sure Hugh would champion her if only he knew. Loyalty to Cecily made her hesitate, along with the knowledge that without Cecily’s co-operation she would be placing Hugh in an impossible position unless she could also convince his aunt. But that meant convincing Dame Alice that she was wed to a philanderer and murderer who also happened to be the father of her only beloved son, Hamo.

  No. She couldn’t speak, not yet. So she said only, “I shall go now to talk to Amy.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “No, please do not. I’m sure she’ll speak more freely to me if you are not present. It’s – it’s women’s affairs we need to discuss.”

  Hugh nodded his understanding. “Then I shall go and tell Godric what we’ve found. What you have found.” He paused. “You care deeply for Godric, do you not?”

  Janna felt her face flame into an embarrassing blush. “Yes, I do. I love him with all my heart.”

  “So that was why you didn’t mention your father to me when I told you of my marriage plans?”

  Janna was about to contradict him, to say that on the contrary, believing that Godric was lost to her, she’d been testing how much he truly loved her, daring him to choose her, who had no prospects at the time, over the wealthy woman who had now become his wife. Instead, she decided to spare his feelings. He had failed that test – and she was glad that he had. It had taken her a long time to understand the true secrets of her heart, but she was certain now that she would never love another as she loved Godric, nor was she prepared to wed anyone other than him.

  “I intend to do all in my power to save Godric’s life, and I’d welcome your help,” she told him. “While I’m talking to Amy, will you question your uncle – if you can find some way to do so without rousing his suspicion?”

  Hugh nodded. “I’ll ask if I can compare the girth of his misericord with mine. And I’ll look very closely for bloodstains, that I promise you.”

  “There would have been a lot of blood.” Janna made a mental note to speak to the laundress. But there was something more urgent to address. “Where is Cecily? Where does she live now?” she asked. “I know she was living on your manor while your nephew was there, but he’s – ”

  “She’s still at my manor, although Hamo is now living with my wife’s parents, just as I did when I was his age.” Hugh gave a grim smile. “Cecily stayed on with me. I suspect my aunt believes she’s safer there than here.”

  Safer away from Robert. Janna wondered anew just how much the dame knew of her husband’s affairs, and if he’d continued to have liaisons with other women after Cecily left. It seemed likely enough. “Could you send for her?” she asked. “Would she come?”

  Puzzled, Hugh looked at her. “She may be able to help us,” Janna hinted, determined that, if Cecily came, she would put the utmost pressure on her to tell the truth, might even force her to it, if it would save Godric from being hanged.

  “Very well, I’ll send a servant to fetch her.” Hugh studied her with narrowed eye
s. “You know more than you’re saying about all this, don’t you?”

  Janna gave a wry smile. “I’ll do anything – anything – to clear Godric’s name.”

  But before speaking to Amy, perhaps her first task should be to speak to the servants? Kitchen tattle, while often malicious, sometimes held a grain of truth, and truth was what she needed right now. Truth about the dead girl’s life. Truth about Amy. Accordingly, Janna made her way to the kitchen, well remembered from the time she’d tried, unsuccessfully, to brew a mix that might revive Dame Alice’s newborn babe. Then, the cook had chased her out of the kitchen with a besom. Now, it seemed, she did not recognize Janna, and was so politely formal that Janna began to despair of ever hearing anything of interest at all.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked at last, growing tired of having her every question met with blank incomprehension. The cook had been busy kneading dough to bake bread. Her hands were sticky and now she tried to wipe them clean on her apron as she stared at Janna.

  “There is something about you, my lady,” she began hesitantly.

  “I am the daughter of Eadgyth, the wortwyf whom your mistress asked to assist with the birth of her babe.”

  “You?” The cook gazed at her with open suspicion.

  Janna hoped she hadn’t made a mistake in revealing herself, for she’d been treated with great hostility at the time. “I am here to help Godric, my friend. I want to clear his name, for I do not believe he is responsible for Isabel’s death.”

  “Neither do I!” The cook’s unexpected vehemence gave Janna’s spirits a welcome boost.

  “In that case, please will you tell me all you know about Isabel, and about Amy.”

  “Why do you want to know about Amy?”

  Janna shrugged, trying to make light of her questions so as not to arouse the cook’s suspicions as to where her thoughts really lay. “She was a witness to the meeting between Godric and Isabel, that’s all.”