Janna Mysteries 1 & 2 Bindup (27 page)

The trail was wider now, and more distinct. It was becoming well-trodden, just like the beginning of the trail on the other side of Gravelinges. It, too, must be used by farmers in autumn, some of whom, for a fee, were allowed to bring their pigs into the forest to eat the beechmast. With a sudden lift of her spirits, Janna assumed they must be coming close to Wicheford, and safety.

‘Stay where you are!’ A triumphant cry punctured her confidence and set her pulse leaping with fright. Her first thought was to hide, but even as she searched desperately for cover, the forester sprang out onto the path to confront them. She stepped backwards, cannoning into Edwin. He shouldered her aside and, with one almighty shove, sent the forester staggering to the ground.

‘Run!’ he shouted.

At least we’ve had a chance to rest, Janna thought, as she sprinted beside him. She felt proud that she could keep pace with Edwin even though she was a girl, but she knew she would also tire more quickly. Still she ran valiantly, following the trail down through the trees, through gloomy shadows under leafy canopies where every bush and thicket seemed to conceal a threat to their safety, and through open weedy clearings where she felt even more vulnerable to the hunt.

‘Stop!’ The cry sounded behind them. The forester was in pursuit once more. Janna forced her aching limbs to pump harder, sucked breath deep into her burning lungs. To be caught by the forester was bad enough. To be caught after striking him to the ground and running away would invite a punishment too dreadful to contemplate. Flight was the only answer, their only hope of salvation. Fear added a burst of speed to Janna’s feet.

They ran on. Janna felt now as though she’d passed into a new dimension, a place where her body no longer seemed part of her consciousness. Her chest rose and fell with her breaths; her feet flashed briefly in front of her, left, right, left, right as they sped onwards, but she felt nothing past the desperate need to escape. She sensed Edwin check slightly and matched her stride to his, looking past him to see for herself what had given him pause. Only a narrow fringe of forest separated them now from water meadows and a river lying ahead. Behind them, the forester kept shouting, but in front of them danger also lay, in the form of a mounted man. By the stillness of his stance, and the direction of his gaze, Janna understood that he’d already spied them and that trying to hide from him was futile. Nor could they turn back. And so they kept on running, while he spurred his horse to meet them. They came together at the edge of the forest.

‘What frightens you? What do you run from?’ In spite of his handsome mount and the elegance of his tunic, the man spoke in the Saxon language. The realisation gave Janna the courage to answer truthfully.

‘We’re running from the king’s forester.’ She kept the sword hidden behind her back, knowing that the man would suspect the worst if he saw it. His expression hardened. Janna wondered if she’d misjudged him. The king’s forest laws were popular with no-one save those of his favourites who’d been granted hunting rights in the royal forests. The Saxons especially had reason to hate and resent the edict set in place by William the Bastard, who had conquered their country and killed their king. Forced off their own lands, forced to work for their hated enemies, thegns and villeins alike were also prevented by forest law from cutting wood to build their homes, or trapping wild creatures to fill their empty bellies. Was this man on their side, or was he only speaking their language?

‘Take shelter in there. Hurry!’ The man pointed at a long, timbered shed nearby. It was so close to the forest edge Janna hadn’t noticed it before.

‘Thank you,’ she breathed, even as Edwin pushed her towards it.

The door had hardly closed behind them when they heard a cheerful shout. ‘Master Roger! What brings you through the forest in such a hurry?’ This time, the man spoke the language of the Normans, but Janna had been taught to speak it by her mother and she understood his words. Edwin, however, tensed.

‘He’s trapped us here like rats, and now he’s going to hand us over to the forester,’ he hissed into Janna’s ear.

‘No, he’s not. Sssh. Let me listen.’ Janna bent and put her ear close to a space in the wooden palings. She heard the jingle of the bridle as their rescuer dismounted to talk to the forester.

‘Where are they, Serlo? Two youths? You must have seen them.’ The forester also spoke in Norman French now. His voice was rough with fatigue; he struggled to catch his breath. The chase had taken its toll.

‘I’ve seen no youths. Are you sure they came this way?’

A short silence confirmed that the man’s shrewd question had hit home. Just as Janna eased a sigh of relief, the forester said petulantly, ‘They were following the trail through the forest. They must have run past you.’

‘Do you doubt my word?’ Their rescuer sounded angry now.

‘No, no. I’m just surprised you haven’t seen them.’

‘If they realised you were after them, they might still be hiding in the forest. Did you have them in your sights all the while?’

‘I did not!’ The forester’s voice was sharp, accusing, as he continued, ‘One of the ruffians struck me such a blow that I fell to the ground. By the time I got after them, they had disappeared from my view. I was sure they were coming this way and so I made haste to follow them even though I can scarce move from the pain of the attack.’

Janna stiffened, sure that the forester’s lie would make their rescuer think twice about his chivalrous action. While Serlo might be prepared to save villeins fleeing from a harsh and unjust law, he wouldn’t harbour anyone who’d resort to violence to escape from a king’s man. She peered through the crack, in time to see the forester rubbing his head, an aggrieved expression on his face. Hardly daring to breathe, she waited through a long silence as their rescuer weighed the pros and cons of confessing his lie or continuing to shelter a pair of dangerous villains.

‘What are they saying? Do you understand any of it?’ Edwin whispered nervously.

‘Yes. Sssh.’ Janna clamped a hand over his mouth and leaned closer to the gap between the wooden stakes, straining to hear whatever might be said.

‘… but if I see them, I’ll be sure to keep hold of them and send word to you.’ Janna felt slightly cheered as she understood what Serlo was saying. He had hold of them already, but hadn’t spoken of them to the forester. That must mean he was prepared to let them go free, once the danger had passed. She released Edwin, and put her eye to the crack, trying to see what the forester would do next. Fear slammed into her with the force of a body blow as she found herself staring directly into his eyes. Had he seen her? Did he know someone was hiding inside the shed? She dare not blink lest she betray their presence.

‘What are you …?’ Edwin subsided into silence as Janna gave him a hard jab in the ribs. Her eyes stayed fixed on the forester, who continued to stare at her. Moments passed. Hours. Months. Years. And then the forester turned to Serlo and asked, ‘What’s in the shed over there?’

‘Nothing now, Master Roger.’ Their rescuer gave a shrug. ‘It’s a winter shelter for my sheep, to keep them out of snow and flood, but the time for that has passed now. See how well my flock is doing. We shall have a goodly stock of wool to sell at the fair this year, and a bountiful harvest too if the weather stays kind.’ There was pride in Serlo’s voice as with one hand he grasped the forester and drew him around, while with his other hand he indicated a flock of white-faced sheep, grazing peacefully under the watchful eye of their shepherd. The generous sweep of his hand encompassed all the fields beyond the river: dark, ploughed earth lying fallow, golden barley and ripening wheat. Janna felt a great warmth towards him as she understood how successfully he’d managed to deflect the forester’s attention from the sheepfold and their suspected whereabouts. Serlo kept a grip on the forester’s arm and, still talking, led him away, following the green wall of trees at the edge of the forest.

Once she judged they were safely out of earshot, Janna whispered an explanation of what had transpired to Edwin, including the forester’s version of how he was attacked.

‘I gave him a shove and he fell over,’ Edwin protested. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt him, I just wanted to buy us some time.’

‘I’m sure you didn’t hurt him. There was no sign of any mark on him, but that didn’t stop him trying to make a greater cause against us. Lucky for us, his ruse didn’t work.’

‘So what do we do now?’ Edwin asked, restless and anxious to be gone.

‘Nothing, for the moment. I don’t know where Serlo’s taken the forester. They may still be close enough to see us if we leave. And where would we go? We can’t cross the river in daylight, and we can’t really go back to the forest either, not if the forester is still about. I suggest we stay here until nightfall, and make our escape then.’

Edwin grunted uneasily. ‘Serlo? Is that his name? He thinks I hit the forester. He thinks we’re dangerous. He may want to hand us over to the sheriff instead, and claim a reward for his trouble.’ He shook his head. ‘I think we should leave now.’

‘It’s not safe. At least, not yet. Let’s wait a while,’ Janna insisted.

Edwin huffed a sigh. ‘It’s all very well for you to say “wait”. You’re not the one on the run. You didn’t thump the forester. You’re not suspected of stealing a horse either.’

‘You can go if you want to, but I’m staying here.’ Janna sat down. To underscore her words, she shifted around so that her back rested against the timbered frame of the shed. She stretched her legs out in front of her, and closed her eyes. Just for safety, she casually folded her hands over her purse. If Edwin decided to make a move, it would not be with any of her belongings – at least, not without a fight.

‘You still don’t trust me, do you?’ His voice was amused. Janna felt embarrassed that he’d read her mind so easily. Or was it shame for doubting him? Uncertain now, she recalled how he’d taken her hand, matching his speed to hers as he pulled her along. He hadn’t run away to save himself. Instead, he’d helped her hide from the forester.

‘No, I don’t trust you,’ she said truthfully, pushing aside her uneasy conscience.

‘I’ve already apologised for stealing your purse. It’s safer for both of us if we stay together, but we have to trust and even like each other if we want people to believe that we’re brothers.’

‘Stay together? I thought you were leaving right now?’ Janna opened her eyes to study him.

‘No. Not yet. You’re right. It’s not safe. We’ll go as soon as it gets dark.’ He stretched out beside her.

‘Go where? We still don’t know the way to Winchestre.’

‘Sssh. I hear voices. I think they’re coming back.’

The voices grew louder. Janna tensed, waiting for betrayal, but the voices passed, becoming softer until there was silence once more. Just as they started to relax, the door of the shed flung open with a sudden crash. A tall figure blocked the light, and blocked all chance of their escape. It was the horseman, Serlo. They scrambled to their feet to face him.

Serlo was in his mid-years, his freckled face burnished red by the sun and topped with a shock of red hair. From his commanding air and confident speech, Janna guessed he must be the lord of this manor. A quick inspection confirmed her guess: his tunic was made of good linen and decorated with a border of embroidery. His boots, although mud-spattered, were made of fine leather. ‘Now,’ he said threateningly, ‘you’d better tell me what really happened in the forest.’ He planted his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest. ‘Tell me the truth, for you can be sure I’ll beat it out of you if I suspect either one of you is lying.’

Janna was thankful then that she’d understood his conversation with the forester, and that she’d repeated it to Edwin. They might otherwise have tried to bluff their way out of trouble, and would have earned themselves a beating for it. But how much of the truth should they tell? She stole a quick glance at Edwin, then looked away. One of them had to say something. It had better be her, for Edwin had far too much to lose. She would speak for both of them – and in as low a voice as possible!

‘We thank you kindly, sire, for hiding us from the forester,’ Janna began, thinking it wise to flatter their rescuer as well as show themselves humble and well-mannered, so that he might think twice before believing all that the forester had said of them. As an added precaution, she addressed him in the Saxon tongue, not wanting him to know that she’d heard, and understood, his conversation with the forester.

Serlo grunted acknowledgement, all the while looking them over as if to assess their worth. He frowned as he took in Edwin’s damp and tattered appearance, his half-starved, wild air. His attention moved then to Janna. She quickly looked away, not wanting to show her full face to him lest she betray her real identity. Instead, she studied the earthen floor intently as she launched into explanation. ‘We are two brothers from beyond the Welsh marches, sire, come to seek employment wherever we may find it.’

‘Has your lord given you permission to leave his manor?’ Their rescuer eyed them suspiciously.

‘We … we are not tied to anyone, sire.’ Janna’s thoughts raced as she tried to come up with something to satisfy the man’s curiosity. ‘Our father was Welsh, a craftsman, but he died when we were just babes. Our mother found a living …’ Janna flushed as the man’s eyes narrowed in calculation, ‘… working in an alehouse.’ If the man believed her mother was a whore, he might well think her daughter one too! Except she wasn’t a daughter, she reminded herself. ‘My name is John,’ she said hastily, ‘and my brother is called Edwin.’

‘You do not speak like a Welshman, John.’

Janna felt a flash of triumph that he’d not seen through her disguise. ‘Our mother was of Saxon stock, sire, and sick with wanting her home and her kin around her.’ She was rewarded by the brief flash of sympathy in his eyes. But he was not yet done with them.

‘One of you struck the forester. Which of you was it?’

Janna glanced at Edwin. As she opened her mouth to defend him, he said, ‘It was me, my lord. I gave the forester a hard push, to give us time to get away from him. He fell to his knees, but I didn’t hurt him. I didn’t strike him either.’