Day of Judgment: The Janna Chronicles 6

by Felicity Pulman

  “Aarghh!” Hugh groaned as Janna unwrapped his wound and began to bathe it. His face set in grim lines as he thought back to the madness of the previous day. “I didn’t see Richildis. I’m sorry, Johanna, I didn’t think to look for her. In fact, I was lucky to escape with my own life.” He was silent for a moment. Janna could see how the memory troubled him.

  “It was like a scene from the pits of hell,” Hugh said slowly. “The king had only a task force with him at the abbey. They were greatly outnumbered and completely unprepared for our onslaught. William Martel, in particular, fought like a lion before capture. We only realized afterward, of course, that he was acting as a decoy for the king.”

  “And the king?” Janna asked eagerly.

  “Managed to escape.” Hugh winced as she began to spread ointment over the ugly gash. “Some of his men ran into the abbey itself seeking sanctuary, but the earl gave the command to follow them in and drag them out.” He shuddered. “They were butchered where they stood.”

  Janna closed her eyes, picturing the scene. It might have been a triumph for the earl’s army, and for the empress, but at what a cost. She could not feel glad about the victory; only numb at the thought that the killing would continue until either the king or the empress was dead.

  “What of the sisters? And the abbess?” she asked anxiously, quickly opening her eyes to dispel her dark imaginings. “Are they safe?”

  Hugh shrugged. “I know not. I saw the great doors of the abbey being smashed in, but after that…”

  Janna wondered if he’d followed the earl’s troops into the church, if he’d taken part in the killing, or if he’d fled in fear of his life. He wasn’t saying, and she didn’t want to know.

  “The earl has claimed victory. The empress now holds most of the West Country under her control. But it will be a long time before people forget or forgive the damage her army has wrought on the abbey and its surrounds.”

  Janna remembered how long it had taken the people of Winchestre to recover from that siege, from the damage caused by the bishop’s fireballs that had razed much of the town. It is the people who pay the price for the ambitions of those who would rule, she reflected, feeling angry as she thought of the friends she had made in Wiltune who would suffer because of it, like Agnes and her newborn babe. Sudden fear gripped her. At the earliest opportunity she must go back to make sure they were safe.

  She took the piece of clean linen that Eleanor had given her and cut it in half. Then, very carefully, she began to bind Hugh’s wound. She was conscious of Eleanor standing close by, watching everything she did, but was completely taken by surprise when Eleanor spoke.

  “If Godric is to wed Johanna, then we must find him a new place with your aunt, Hugh. She will need a good man now that she has lost her husband.”

  Janna kept her head bent, wondering if it was concern for Hugh’s aunt or Hugh’s heart that motivated Eleanor’s suggestion.

  Hugh himself kept silent, perhaps equally taken by surprise.

  “It shall be as my lady wishes,” said Godric. Janna hadn’t realized that he’d come into the room. Now she burned with anger on his behalf, and shame on her own.

  “I need Godric here. I rely on his help,” Hugh said firmly. “My aunt has a perfectly capable steward and a good reeve of her own to help her until Hamo is old enough to take charge.”

  “I think there is not enough room here for two women, Hugh.” Eleanor’s voice brooked no argument. “If you won’t send him to your aunt, then I shall ask my father to find him a position on our estate near Winchestre.”

  Hugh cast a helpless glance at Janna and rolled his eyes. It was unfortunate that Eleanor noticed. She snatched the bandage from Janna’s hands. “You may leave us,” she said, and began clumsily to complete what Janna had started.

  Janna bobbed a curtsy, keeping her head bent to hide her anger. She walked out of the room, followed closely by Godric.

  “It is insupportable that you should be dismissed from your position here on my account,” she said, as soon as they were out of Eleanor’s hearing.

  Godric smiled and took her hand. “If it hadn’t happened now, it would have happened soon enough,” he said. “The lady is afraid her husband favors you, Janna.”

  “Stupid – ” Janna bit her tongue on the rude word she would have used.

  “It matters not.” Godric drew her closer and put his arm around her. “So long as I am sure of you and our future together, I am completely happy and content. But you, Janna – have you no regrets for what might have been?”

  “None whatsoever!”

  “Then I thank God that we are alone at last! I love you, Janna. I always have, I always will. And I promise you that I shall do all in my power to make you happy.”

  “Shh.” Janna leaned into him. She closed her eyes. His lips met hers, tender at first, but deepening into a long and passionate kiss that set Janna’s body alight with desire and the determination that nothing, now, could ever set them apart.

  *

  The messenger Godric had sent at Eleanor’s behest soon returned with the assurance that the siege was over and Stephen and his men routed. He also told Janna that her half-sister was alive and safe, and that word had been sent to Dame Blanche in Winchestre. Her father’s body was to await burial until their arrival. His news added urgency to Janna’s departure, for she wanted to make sure that she had the chance to say goodbye and mourn her father properly before Blanche arrived to shoulder her aside.

  Godric, too, was determined to leave the manor as soon as possible following Eleanor’s pronouncement. Janna was delighted when he was given permission to accompany her to Wiltune, for she dreaded having to face alone the difficulties that lay before her. Even more delightful was the prospect of being able to spend some time alone with him at last. Hugh argued against their going, and especially against losing his trusted steward, but his wife and Janna united against him, albeit for different reasons: Eleanor, because she knew that Hugh still harbored feelings for Janna; and Janna, because there were far more urgent matters that she needed to see to, with or without Godric by her side. Ignoring Eleanor’s prickly demeanor, Janna instructed her regarding the care of Hugh’s wound before she left, adding her good wishes for the safe birth of their child.

  The journey passed all too quickly as Janna and Godric exchanged loving kisses and told each other about the years that they had spent apart. Godric described his new life with Hugh, and asked about Janna’s quest to find her father. In the telling, she was careful to leave out the more poignant particulars of her meeting with Ralph, and his subsequent fate. To her infinite relief, Godric did not press for details, perhaps sensing that some things were better left unsaid. While she knew now that she had never really loved Ralph, she had not known it then, and the memory of their time together and its aftermath still had the power to distress and shame her.

  She could not disguise her horror once they entered the abbey’s grounds. While the town itself had escaped mostly unscathed, all the earl’s might and fury had been unleashed on the king who, while supposedly a guest of the abbey, had turned it into his headquarters once he’d stationed his advance task force there and commenced fortifications. Many of the abbey’s outbuildings had been burned or otherwise destroyed; rubble was strewn everywhere, and the scent of charred wood and animal flesh still lingered on the air.

  The gatehouse, which once had housed Stephen and his troops, was gone, as was part of the guest quarters where Janna had stayed with her father. She went there first to look for Richildis, but found them deserted, although a party of workers from the abbey’s estates was hard at work clearing away the debris and bringing in material to repair and rebuild the damage. The great door of the church had been destroyed in the earl’s determination to reach those seeking sanctuary inside, but Janna paused at the portal before venturing into the nave. There she saw the abbess consulting with a carpenter over repairs to the damage within, while several sisters busied themselves sweeping a
nd tidying away the detritus. There was no sign of Richildis, or of Sister Anne, but Sister Ursel was busily wielding a broom in the service of the Lord. Anxious to escape the hawk eyes of the abbess, Janna sidled down the nave to ask her friend if she knew where to find them.

  Ursel set aside the broom and looked all set to embrace Janna, until a quick glance over her shoulder suggested caution. “I am so glad to see you safe!” she whispered instead, casting an anxious glance in Godric’s direction. “You’ll find them in the infirmary. Richildis is in such distress over the death of her father that she has taken to her bed. Perhaps you can comfort her, Janna, for Sister Anne is quite at her wits’ end.”

  “I’ll go to her.” Janna had no illusions about the comfort she might bring, but knew she should make an effort to see Richildis.

  “But your companion must stay here!” Ursel’s alarmed hiss attracted the abbess’s attention. She frowned as she recognized Janna, and began to walk toward them.

  “Ursel, this is Godric, whom I shall wed just as soon as we may. Look after him for me.” Janna was warmed by the huge grin of delight that transformed her friend’s face. She wished she could hug the nun and share her joy with her. Instead, she thanked Ursel, blew a kiss to Godric, and hurried off before the abbess could reach them.

  “Go away.” Richildis turned over, presenting her back to Janna when she walked into the infirmary.

  Janna shrugged impatiently and looked at Sister Anne. “Where’s my father’s body?” she asked. “If Richildis won’t speak to me, I would like to keep vigil beside him for a while.”

  Richildis reared up, her face pale and her eyes blazing with hatred. “It’s all your fault Papa was killed!” she shrieked. “He only came to Wiltune on your account, because you were so determined to get your hands on his property.” Her mouth curved into a spiteful smile. “You won’t get anything now,” she observed. “Maman will see to that.”

  Even though Richildis was only saying what Janna herself had already surmised, she wanted to slap the girl. She restrained herself with difficulty. Not deigning to answer her half-sister’s charge or give credence to her lies, she said instead, “You should know, Richildis, that our father’s last thoughts were for you. He was coming to find you, to keep you safe, when he was struck down.”

  “It ill befits his memory for you to bear such malice toward your sister,” Sister Anne added reprovingly. “You are certainly old enough to know better, even if your upbringing has not taught you how to behave like the lady you would have us believe you are.”

  Richildis was struck silent. Janna read the mortification on her face, and winced on her behalf as the truth of the infirmarian’s reproof hit home.

  “You will find your father’s body lying in the crypt, awaiting burial,” Sister Anne told Janna. “Two of us keep vigil at all times, along with one of the earl’s men, so you’ll find him well guarded.” She paused a moment. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am for your loss,” she added softly. She took Janna’s hand and pressed it.

  Janna returned the pressure, grateful for the infirmarian’s gesture. “Have you news of Agnes and her new babe?” she asked quickly. Her friend had once been a lay sister at the abbey; if anyone knew of her fate, it would be Sister Anne. “How did they fare during the siege?”

  “Safe and well, both of them. And the bailiff too, God be thanked.” Sister Anne released Janna’s hand and crossed herself.

  “I am relieved to hear it.” Janna hesitated, unwilling to leave Richildis without one last attempt to reach the girl through her distress. But Sister Anne gave a small shake of her head, so Janna withdrew.

  Although she’d never before been in the crypt, she found it without difficulty; an underground chamber where past abbesses and other church dignitaries had been laid to rest. The air was chill, and already tainted with the stench of decay. She wondered what had happened to those others who had died in the attack, for only her father’s body was lying there, with two black-garbed figures on one side and a soldier on the other. She approached her father with trepidation, and sank down on her knees to pray, keeping her eyes closed so that she wouldn’t have to look upon his dear, dead face.

  She knelt for some time, hardly aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to concentrate on her communion with God, on her pleas that her father might rest in peace even though he had died unshriven. But her thoughts strayed first to Eadgyth and the love her mother and father had shared, and her mother’s lack of trust in that love and the life they had led because of it. Memory took her onwards to her mother’s death and the subsequent search for her father, which had taken her so far and shown her so much of the world. And now she had come to this: facing her father’s death, and the heartbreak of losing him just when they had become as close as a father and daughter could be. From there her thoughts jumped to Godric, and her relief that, after all, they could be wed. Which brought Janna to guilt, and further fervent prayer for her father’s soul, and the cycle of memory and regret began once more.

  She came back to her surroundings at last when she felt a tap on her shoulder, and then Godric’s arm came under hers to help her rise, for she was stiff after kneeling for so long. “Your stepmother has arrived and has demanded an audience with the earl,” he whispered. “I think you should be there too.”

  Alarmed, Janna at once nodded her agreement. Taking a moment to cross herself, she withdrew from the crypt and hastened after Godric as he led the way to the abbess’s own chamber. Janna knocked and, without waiting for a reply, entered the room. The abbess frowned in reproof, but before she could say anything Earl Robert stood up and bowed to Janna.

  “I am delighted to meet you again, Johanna,” he announced.

  Knocked off-balance by his welcome, Janna glanced from him to her stepmother. Like her daughter, it seemed that Blanche held Janna entirely responsible for what had transpired during the siege. She inclined her head and said in a frigid tone, “So, your father is dead and you think you’ve got what you wanted, Johanna. But you will pay for the damage your ambition has done to my family. You’ve cost me a husband, and my children their father.”

  Aghast, Janna could hardly think how to reply. But Blanche was not finished. She turned on the earl in fury. “And that’s not all she’s done. That girl wormed her way into my husband’s affection and has stolen from us all his property here in England. But you, my lord, will surely not see your half-brother’s widow and her unfortunate children condemned to penury now that he is gone.”

  Janna would have laughed at Blanche’s lies if she hadn’t been so stunned. Not a word of grief over her husband’s death – all she cared about was cutting Janna out of her father’s last bequest. It seemed that Blanche’s daughter had been truly molded in her mother’s image. She turned aside, her lip curling with disgust – and saw that the earl had noticed the gesture, even if he had not understood the reason for it.

  “Is there any truth in this?” he asked, reclaiming his seat once more.

  “None.” Janna answered before Blanche could utter any more poison. “It was my father’s intention to leave me his property here in England. His family is to inherit all his lands and fortune in Normandy. I hardly think my father would have wished them to destitution, my lord, no matter what my stepmother might have you believe.”

  “But the king has not given his agreement to it, Maman.”

  Janna spun around; she hadn’t realized that Richildis was also in the room. She was sitting to one side, half obscured behind her brother, Giles. Rosy was also present; she ventured a smile when she saw Janna looking at her, only to receive a sharp slap from her sister, which immediately wiped it away.

  “The king has not yet given his agreement?” Blanche’s nose came up, quivering like a bloodhound on the trail. “Where is the testament, then?” Janna was quite sure that, if she could get her hands on it, her stepmother would rip it into shreds.

  “The king has it.”

  “And he won’t agree to it. Not
now that our father is dead!” Richildis exchanged a look of triumph with her mother.

  Godric put his hand on Janna’s shoulder, seeking to reassure her of his love and support. Richildis noticed the movement. Her eyes widened. “So she’s going to wed the peasant after all,” she said. “She has no prospects any more, Maman. She is nothing, now that our father has gone.”

  Even though she’d already accepted the truth of her position, the words cut through Janna like a sharp blade. The earl held up his hand for silence, his face mirroring his distaste at what he was hearing.

  “It would seem that your fears of being left destitute are groundless, my lady,” he told Blanche coldly. His scorn was almost palpable. “It seems also that you have no intention of carrying out your late husband’s wishes, for all that he apparently made himself quite clear not only to you but also to the king. But don’t feel too proud, Dame Blanche. I know that John has substantial property in Normandy, and you can be sure I shall speak to Count Geoffrey at the earliest opportunity as to how it might best be bestowed on someone who supports his cause. Someone who might take you to wife, perhaps, if you have concern for your children’s future?”

  “No, my lord! No!” Blanche’s face reflected both her fear and her fury at this unforeseen threat.

  But Robert ignored her. He turned to Janna and his face softened into kindness.

  “My sister is well aware of the…services you have rendered her in the past. Indeed, she planned to bestow on you a manor of your own until your father made it clear, when he saw her in Oxeneford, that he intended to make full provision for you as his oldest legitimate daughter.” The earl’s steely gaze caught and held Blanche for a long moment. It was Blanche who looked away first.

  “Unfortunately, John’s demesne here in England comes within Stephen’s gift, and I suspect he will use it to reward one of his own faithful barons rather than honoring your father’s wishes, Johanna. So, unless and until my sister succeeds in her bid for the crown, there is little I can do to make sure your father’s wishes are carried out. But I, too, am mindful of the debt we owe you. I own a manor and a farm not far from Wiltune. It is not as fine as the property you would have received from your father, but the house itself is spacious and well built, and the surrounding farmland and pasture will bring in an income more than sufficient for your needs.”