The cook sniffed. “Coming home from seeing her family, so she says. I say she spends more time visiting them than she does serving her mistress. But she’s had to change her ways now that Isabel is dead.”
“Are you saying that Isabel spent more time here with Dame Alice than Amy does?” Janna resolved to visit Amy’s family, to see for herself if the girl was always where she said she was.
The cook thought for a moment. “Not so much at first,” she admitted. “In fact, rumor was that Isabel was seeing someone on the sly. Well, we know that for a fact now, don’t we?” She pursed her lips. “Pity these girls who don’t learn the value of a marriage vow before they spread their favors around.”
“Who was Isabel seeing? Do you know?”
The cook shook her head. “She was ever close-mouthed about her business. But it came to a sad end, everyone could see that. The girl took to moping about and crying in corners. And now we know why.”
“So you believe she killed herself?”
The cook nodded vigorously. “Stands to reason,” she said. “A babe on the way and no husband to support her. Mind you, she could have gone to Dame Alice, for I’m sure the dame would have helped her in her distress.” She shook her head sadly. “I liked Isabel. She was a good’un, if somewhat lacking in judgment. Not like that Amy, with her fancy ways, her airs and graces. Looking down her nose at everyone as if she’s so fine!”
“What do you know of her?” Janna would rather have asked what the cook had against the girl, but that seemed a little too direct. Nevertheless, she was keen to make the most of the cook’s seeming ill-will.
“Not much,” the cook said grudgingly. “She hasn’t been here very long. Another close-mouthed one, but thinks herself very fine, she does. Always dressed up and strutting about. She pretends she can’t see the men on my lady’s demesne looking at her, lusting after her, but she loves it, loves the attention, don’t tell me she doesn’t.”
“And does she have anyone special in her life?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if she has half a dozen of ’em!” The cook thought for a moment. “No, that’s not true,” she said slowly. “I would say she fancies herself too special to go with just anyone. But if she does have a lover?” She turned her attention back to kneading the dough, slapping and pounding it vigorously. “I wouldn’t know who he is.”
“Where does her family live?” Janna asked.
“Domnitone. Just past that water mill where Isabel was found.”
She would visit them first, Janna decided, and see if their story squared with Amy’s excuses for her frequent absences. The more she knew about Amy before she interrogated her, the more likely she was to get straight answers from the girl. Having asked directions from the cook, she was about to set out, thinking to walk past the millrace where Isabel had died so that she could examine the site for clues, when she was intercepted by Hugh.
“I was asked to find you and bring you in to dinner,” he said.
Janna took his arm, accepting that her mission would have to wait until later.
To her dismay, the first person they met as they walked to the hall was Robert. He loomed over her and stared down. “My lady,” he said, making the two words sound as insolent as he dared. “So we meet again.”
“And in very different circumstances,” Janna retorted coolly, even though her heart was pounding with remembered fright.
“I had thought never to see you again.”
“I have come back here to seek justice. I would not wish a man to hang for a crime he did not commit.” Janna met his cold stare without flinching. Robert was the first to look away. She followed him into the hall and found everyone else already assembled. At once she went to stand beside her father, reminding Robert of her new status and connection to royalty.
John greeted her with a smile. “You are just in time,” he said.
“May I introduce you to Amy,” Dame Alice said, drawing a young woman forward. “She is new to our household.”
Janna eyed the girl with interest, and continued to keep a close watch on her once they’d sat down at a table on a raised platform at one end of the hall. She and her father were seated beside Dame Alice, Robert and Hugh. Amy was further down the table. Janna noticed that her eyes kept straying to Robert, although he seemed determined to ignore her. His attention was all on Janna’s father, flattering him in so obsequious a manner that Janna surmised he understood the purpose underlying their visit, and sought to ingratiate himself to such a degree as to make any accusation impossible.
“Did you find Godric well?” Dame Alice’s low-voiced question caught her attention.
“Well enough, but he shouldn’t be where he is,” Janna said fiercely, but quietly, so that her father couldn’t hear her.
Dame Alice nodded and sighed. Janna noticed her glance also straying toward the young girl seated further down, and wondered anew how much the dame suspected of her husband’s liaisons. Would she bear witness against him if Janna could prove his hand in this new calamity as well as in her mother’s death? She followed the dame’s gaze, acknowledging the truth of the cook’s comment that Amy was beautiful enough to turn anyone’s head. And the girl knew it – her awareness of the lustful glances from the workers seated at the tables below was obvious.
The meal seemed interminable, with a succession of poultry, fishes and meats in a variety of sauces, all served with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of wine. It was obvious that Dame Alice was out to impress. Janna determined to speak with Amy once the last fruit and honey pastry was consumed and she was free to leave the table, but to her dismay, the girl seemed to have disappeared. She looked around more carefully, and noticed that Robert had also vanished.
“Dreadful man.” Her father materialized at her side, pulling a grimace of distaste. “I can well believe him capable of anything, for all he has the oily smoothness of a – an eel.” Janna smiled at him, pleased that her father seemed in agreement with her.
“I have asked Hugh to send for Cecily,” she told him. “I’ll do my best to persuade her to tell the truth.”
As there was no sign of Amy, Janna made her excuses to her father and left the manor house to walk down across the fields to the river. She followed its course until she came to where the narrow millrace branched off. Janna traced the roaring, rushing waters down toward the huge wheel. She looked at the paddles beating through the water, and shivered with horror as she imagined how it would feel to be caught on them and dragged down and around. It would be a dreadful way to die. In some ways, the murderer had done Isabel a good turn by killing her first.
She kept a close eye on the path as she neared the wheel, and at last she spied the signs she’d been hoping to find: a patch of trampled grass. At once she followed the faint trail to a screening thatch of reeds. A careful inspection around and behind the screen revealed rusty splatters of blood, silent witness to what had occurred there. The wheel was only a few yards further along the millrace. The roar of the water would have drowned out any cries for help, while the reeds would have hidden the act until the girl was dragged back to the stream and swept almost instantly onto the wheel.
Janna could not believe the girl’s death was the result of an accidental encounter. Someone had arranged to meet her, and had come prepared. She was sure she knew who that someone was, but proving it might well be impossible.
She retraced her steps and walked on then to the small village of Domnitone. It comprised a few cots straggled around a muddy street that was populated by dogs, pigs, geese and hens with their chicks. A couple of ragged children directed Janna to Amy’s home. There she found a haggard woman, old before her time, with several young children underfoot, the youngest just a baby. They were eating their dinner, but their trenchers were rapidly snatched up and hidden when they noticed Janna at the door. She sniffed the air, surprised to identify the rich scent of roasted meat. From their guilty looks, Janna concluded that the food had been a gift from Amy, probably purloined wit
hout Dame Alice’s knowledge. Unless a family member had poached a boar from the forest? But that was a crime incurring such serious punishment if the miscreant was caught by the king’s forester that Janna was willing to wager it was more likely an illicit gift from the daughter.
She pretended not to notice, for she did not want them on guard against her. Instead, she said gaily, “Amy has told me all about you and, as I was passing by this way, she suggested I step in and pay my compliments.” She wished she’d thought to bring a gift of food to smooth her path.
“You’re a friend of our Amy?” The woman’s manner thawed somewhat.
Telling herself that Godric’s life depended on the truth, even if it was arrived at through deception, Janna nodded. “You’re lucky to have such a good and dutiful daughter.”
At once the woman stiffened into wariness again. Janna sought to allay her fears. “Dame Alice is always happy to give her leave to visit you and bring you gifts,” she lied.
Amy’s mother sniffed. “I don’t know about that. Amy did call in a few days back, and brought us a haunch of mutton and a wedge of bacon. Otherwise we hardly ever see her. The dame keeps her far too busy to visit us.”
Janna pricked up her ears. Amy’s mother couldn’t know that she’d just shown her daughter to be a liar and possibly also a thief. To hide her interest, she picked up the baby, who had started to cry, and sat down to calm it, using the child as an excuse to talk to its siblings and mother about Amy. But she learned little more of interest, and finally she bid them farewell, pressing a silver coin into the woman’s hand as she left. Although she felt uneasy at the betrayal to come, she soothed her conscience with thoughts of Godric and her need to set him free.
She was close to the millrace once more when she noticed a figure walking toward her in the heat of late afternoon. A woman. As she came closer, she realized it was Amy. This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for. She hurried to meet her with a smile on her face and caution in her heart.
“My lady.” The girl bobbed a curtsy.
“Amy. I was hoping to have a quiet word with you,” she said. She noticed that the girl looked ill at ease. Guilty conscience, Janna thought, and wondered what she could be hiding behind her back. Was she on the way to see her family with more purloined food for them? But it was none of Janna’s business; indeed, she was pleased the girl was becoming more attentive, for she’d felt pity for her gaunt, downtrodden mother. Nevertheless, she was determined to find out what she could before letting Amy go on her way.
“I believe you knew Isabel? Was she a friend of yours?” she asked.
“Yes. We were very close.” Amy raised a hand to wipe away an imaginary tear. “I still can’t believe she’s dead. That villain deserves to die for what he did to her.”
Janna bit back an angry defense of Godric and instead said carefully, “I believe you saw Godric with Isabel shortly before she died. But did you actually see him push her into the millrace? Did you see her drown?”
“N-no.” The girl flicked a quick glance at Janna, then looked away. “But that’s what must have happened. Everyone says so. She was caught on the wheel and she drowned before the miller could block off the millrace and rescue her.”
It sounded as though Amy genuinely believed what she was saying, what everyone was saying. Nevertheless, Janna suspected Amy knew more than she was telling.
“Why was Isabel there, do you know? What was she doing at the millrace?”
“She was meeting Godric, of course.”
“But he didn’t meet her there. He met her walking along the river, where you saw them together.”
“Then they walked on to the millrace after.” But the girl wouldn’t look at Janna. She shifted uncomfortably. Janna thought she was probably anxious to get on her way before her disappearance was noted.
“You know Isabel was with child? Who was the father, do you know?”
Amy shrugged. “Must’ve been that Godric.”
“She didn’t tell you who was courting her, even though you were close friends?”
“Not that close.”
“Did you see anyone else by the river that day?”
“No.”
“So if it came to bearing witness, really you saw nothing of how Isabel died, or who might have caused her death.”
“We all know who caused her death.” Amy’s mouth clamped into an obstinate line.
Janna sighed. She was going nowhere with this, but maybe she could frighten the girl into telling her what she wanted to know. “And where were you going when you saw Godric with Isabel?”
“To visit my mother.”
“I’ve just been speaking to your mother. She was grateful for the food you brought her, and I’m sure she was glad to see you, for it seems you don’t often visit your home even though the cook told me you spend a great deal of time away from the manor house.”
Amy looked suddenly frightened. “Why are you questioning everyone about me?”
Janna returned her gaze, but didn’t answer.
“I’ve done nothing wrong! You can’t prove anything against me.”
Janna smiled, but stayed silent.
“What does it matter to you anyway? My life is none of your business!”
“Oh, but it is,” Janna said softly. “Where are you going now? To visit your family again?”
“No. It’s getting late. I’ll come back to the manor with you.” Amy stepped out of the way, indicating that Janna should go ahead of her along the narrow path.
Surprised that the girl would still want to keep her company after such an uncomfortable interrogation, Janna began walking. Amy fell in behind her. Janna felt a prickling unease as she mulled over their conversation and its unlikely outcome. Had Amy been sent to find her – and if so, why? The path had left the river and was now winding through a belt of trees and thick scrub toward the manor house. All was silent. They were quite alone. Janna’s unease deepened. She tried to comfort herself with the knowledge that she was safe; the assassin Robert had sent after her on previous occasions was now imprisoned in Winchestre. He would not come after her again.
But someone else might! She whirled around to confront Amy in time to see the girl’s arm upraised and ready to strike. The thin blade she’d concealed behind her back flashed down, aimed now at Janna’s heart instead of her back. Panic-stricken, Janna threw herself sideways and the blade caught her arm instead, a glancing blow that sliced through her sleeve and into her flesh.
Caught off-balance by Janna’s sudden movement, Amy stumbled. Her grip tightened around the knife, her gaze fixed on her target as she righted herself. But Janna had sprung to her feet and, within the space of a heartbeat, she bunched up her skirt and kicked out, aiming for the knife in Amy’s hand. Her boot connected with a satisfying crunch and the girl cried out in pain. But she still kept tight hold of the knife, thrusting forward to make sure of Janna’s death.
Remembering the defensive moves that the runaway, Edwin, had shown her so long ago, and thankful that it was her left arm that had been injured, Janna launched herself at Amy, driving the forked fingers of her right hand straight into the girl’s eyes. She felt the knife slice into her side, but ignored the pain as she followed through with a quick chop to Amy’s throat, using her hand like a blade.
Amy screamed and fell back, dropping the knife. “Help me!” she croaked. But Janna had already scooped up the weapon and was running for her life. One hand was clamped to her side in a vain effort to staunch the blood that leaked between her fingers. In her other hand she gripped the long, thin knife, the misericord that she was sure had been used to silence Isabel, but had failed to silence her. She felt a great sense of triumph, overlaid by the fear that she would not live long enough to tell what she knew. She wasn’t sure whether anything vital had been damaged, but knew that she was losing a great deal of blood. A fierce pain in her side and a growing weakness slowed her steps and made each breath more labored, but she was coming close now to the manor. An
d she prayed that it wouldn’t be Robert who saw her first, for she knew he would stop at nothing to finish what his leman had started.
Chapter 8
Janna came to her senses to find herself stretched out on a bed, with Aldith in attendance. Her first thought was to give thanks that she was still alive, but her elation quickly gave way to alarm as she recognized the woman who was busy applying a salve to the deep wound in her side.
She remembered the midwife, and with recognition came the recollection that Aldith was not always scrupulous about cleanliness. She was about to send Aldith away, but realized suddenly that the midwife’s apron was clean and the salve felt cool and comforting. She cleared her throat. “Hello, Aldith,” she said weakly, speaking in the language of her childhood.
“Janna! You’re awake at last!” The genuine pleasure on the woman’s face quickly tightened into reserve. “Mistress Johanna,” she amended.
“Janna. And I thank you for looking after me.” Concern overrode courtesy. “How bad is the wound?”
“It’s narrow, but deep. You’ve lost a lot of blood, but I don’t think the knife pierced anything vital. I’ve cleansed the wound with water betony and sanicle, and this is a salve of woundwort and comfrey.” Aldith hesitated. “I’ve taken your mother’s advice and instructions to heart, my lady. And those in my care have benefited from it – most especially those women in childbirth,” she added with some pride.
“I can see I’m in the best of hands,” Janna said gratefully.
“It’s fortunate I was already here, helping the reeve’s wife give birth to her babe. You were – ” Before she could finish speaking, the door flung open and Janna’s father stormed into the room. At once Aldith drew back, but John had no eyes for the midwife. Instead, he fell on his knees beside the bed and grasped Janna’s hand in his own.
“You are alive!” he said hoarsely. “I thank God for it! But how…who…?” And he glanced around the room as if the answer lurked somewhere in the shadowy corners.
Day of Judgment: The Janna Chronicles 6 Page 17