Janna Mysteries 1 & 2 Bindup (37 page)

Women and children now moved about with a steady purpose, methodically inspecting once again every nook and cranny that might provide shelter for a small boy. The men fanned out beyond the manor walls, some to continue the search up and down river, looking especially at the mill and the great marsh; the rest to walk through the tall corn or search the meadows on either side of the river, and the outskirts of the forest beyond.

Janna wondered if she should go with the men, but investigating the undercroft was on her mind now. She would rather know the real purpose behind Hamo’s disappearance. She hoped to set her mind at rest. So she walked into the undercroft below the hall, and began a systematic search for anything, anything at all, that might explain the significance of the posy of rue left lying on the doorstep. What was she looking for? She wished she knew.

She kept her mind and eyes focused on the scene in front of her as she poked about. She was looking for something out of place, or something spoiled, perhaps. Even something missing – but how would she know if that was so? She sorted through the few poor possessions stored by the servants who shared her sleeping quarters in the hall, then moved on to the rest of the undercroft where food and grain were kept. Being the hungry month, the time just before harvest, the sacks of grain were few; most were empty. One of the sacks was ripped and Janna checked it carefully. Precious grain spilled out of it. Mouse droppings confirmed that it was mice rather than a human hand behind the deed.

There were also barrels, and several chests. She tried the lid of one of the chests, but found it locked. So were most of the others, she found, as she tried them all. Only one opened to her touch, but a quick riffle through its contents confirmed that there was only a woollen blanket, worn thin and perforated with moth holes, and some chipped pots and jugs inside it. Nothing in the undercroft appeared to have been tampered with; everything seemed in order. Just to be sure, Janna tapped on each one. ‘Hamo?’ she called softly, but there was no reply. She didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry.

With her inspection over, Janna walked outside and paused for a moment while she worked out where to look next.

She was hot, thirsty and tired. And hungry. There were apples growing on the trees that bordered the kitchen garden. As Janna visualised the juicy fruit, her mouth began to water in anticipation. She hurried towards the fruit trees, hoping that the apples were ripe enough to eat, and that no-one was around to watch her steal one. A movement caught her eye and she stopped, wondering what it could be. It looked like a long brown snake. The frayed end told Janna what she’d seen. Curious now, she traced its source to a large wooden barrel. She peered over, and found Bones cowering behind it.

‘Come here!’ she ordered. She tugged hard on the rope. The unwilling creature skidded around and came into full view.

‘Where’s Hamo?’ Janna demanded, then felt silly as she realised she was talking to a dog. But so had she talked to the animals she and her mother had kept at their cottage. ‘Do you know where he’s hiding?’ Her words seemed to soothe the dog, for it stopped cringing away and baring its teeth at her and, instead, sat down and looked up at her with pleading eyes. Janna was incensed to see that its paws were still untreated by the kitchen skivvy. She chided herself for passing on the task rather than taking care of it herself.

‘Poor old Bones.’ She dragged the dog inside the empty kitchen and set about finding it some scraps, hoping to bribe it into good behaviour so that she could put the medicament on its paws. Perhaps the dog knew something about Hamo’s disappearance; perhaps it could even lead her to Hamo? First, though, Janna wanted to take care of its wounds so that at least it could walk properly with her when she went searching.

Once the dog was busy chomping its way through a piece of raw meat, Janna poured water into a basin and set about cleansing its front paws. As she suspected, the claws had been cut off without care, and the wounds were dirty and full of pus. The dog growled at her as she probed deeper. ‘Have a bone, Bones,’ she said, and hurriedly stuffed one of the cook’s soup bones into its mouth.

It dropped the bone and began to shiver and whine softly as Janna first cleansed then bound its paws with scraps of wool smeared with the cream she’d made up earlier. It seemed to sense that she was friend not foe. It even managed a feeble wag of its tail when she was done, while it wasted no time getting back to the feast she’d provided. ‘You realise I’m going to blame you for stealing this food,’ Janna told the dog as she scoffed up a cold meat pasty while she waited for it to finish eating. She was only half-jesting. Mistress Tova would be incensed when she realised what was missing.

Hastily, she drained a mug of ale to slake her thirst. ‘Come on,’ she said, feeling slightly more cheerful after her repast. She pulled on the dog’s leash once more. With a last look of longing at a ham that hung enticingly beside the cooking fire, the dog trotted after Janna, still limping slightly.

Holding on to the rope to keep the dog with her, Janna crossed the river. If Hamo wasn’t within the manor walls, neither was Edwin for he, too, would have been found in the search. With Serlo’s warning sounding in her ears, she went first to the sheep shed where once they’d taken shelter from the forester. As she’d suspected, it was empty. She peeped behind the rough wooden feeding trough, and felt a great relief when she espied the rusty sword she’d secreted there, along with Edwin’s pot and jug. If Edwin had left the manor to go adventuring, he surely would have remembered to take everything with him. Wherever he was, he couldn’t be far away. Hunger must surely drive him home, and soon.

A group of peasants beating through the edge of the forest beyond caught Janna’s eye. Urk’s mother was among them, and Janna hastened to join them. Edwin could take care of himself; it was Hamo who occupied her thoughts now. A quick glance confirmed that Urk was not part of the group. She made a beeline for Mistress Wulfrun, hoping her suspicions might prove correct.

‘Mistress,’ she greeted her. ‘I’ve been looking for Urk … Gabriel. Do you know where he might be?’

Urk’s mother nodded. ‘He went off with the other children to search the barn,’ she muttered, looking worried.

‘Was he alone, do you know?’

‘No, I told you. He was with the other children.’ Mistress Wulfrun shot a suspicious glance at Janna. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I wondered if he might have gone somewhere to play ball with a special friend, perhaps?’

‘Ball?’ Mistress Wulfrun couldn’t have looked more confused if Janna had asked whether Urk had grown wings and flown up to the moon.

Janna nodded thoughtfully. Hamo might have the leisure to play ball games, but it seemed that Urk did not.

‘And did Gabriel sleep in his bed last night?’

Mistress Wulfrun drew herself up to her full height and glared at Janna. ‘He was not out setting fire to a haystack, if that’s what you’re trying to suggest.’

‘No!’ Janna was sorry to have offended Urk’s mother. She wasn’t sure how to put things right. ‘It’s just that the young lord loves to play with his ball. I wondered if Gabriel had gone off to play a game with him, that’s all.’

‘Gabriel has no time to play games.’ Mistress Wulfrun strode on, calling out Hamo’s name as she went. Janna clicked her tongue impatiently as she realised she hadn’t had an answer to her question. She left the villeins to their search and went back to the manor, dragging Bones on the rope behind her. The clanging tones of the bell followed her passage. Janna scrutinised the knots of people coming and going, wishing more than anything to recognise Hamo among them. Although several small figures brought her to a heart-thumping halt, closer inspection always revealed them to be some other child. She hurried inside the gate and went looking for Urk and his friends.

Oblivious to the urgency of their task and the real danger to Hamo, the children were having a game, throwing hay about and shrieking with delight. Urk was by far the oldest, but he also seemed to be having the most fun. She drew him aside. ‘Have you seen Hamo, Gabriel?’ she asked.

He shook his head. ‘Hamo’s lost,’ he said helpfully.

‘I know. I wondered if you’d seen him. Did you maybe go somewhere to play ball with him?’

‘Ball?’ Urk looked just as puzzled as his mother.

‘Did you see Hamo today? Do you know where he is?’ Janna tried again.

‘No. Hamo’s lost.’ Urk bent down to pat Bones. ‘Nice dog.’ Bones’s tail twitched in acknowledgment.

Janna sighed, feeling discouraged. ‘Go on then and look for Hamo,’ she said, and gave him a gentle push in the direction of the younger children. Urk ambled off, giving her a bewildered glance as he left. Janna looked up at the sky. The sun had begun to fall towards the earth; it would be dark within a few more hours, and then Serlo would demand an explanation of Edwin’s absence. She felt like a watermill in a dry river bed, churning around uselessly and achieving absolutely nothing. She’d been rushing about everywhere, but she still had no answers to give Serlo, and no idea where to find them either. What was she to do? With dragging steps, she went back to join the searchers at the forest’s edge.

She looked across the water meadows to the manor beyond, with the small cots of the peasants clinging to its side like ticks to a dog. Behind the manor stretched the cultivated fields, stripes of ripening corn interspersed with patches of dark, fallow earth. A small copse of trees stood to one side, jutting into some of the strips and cutting the field into an awkward shape. From the height and distance of her position, Janna could see now that the copse hid a solid, stone-built cottage.

‘Who lives there?’ she asked, while beside her, Bones began to whine. ‘Sshh.’ She smacked his muzzle gently to shut him up so that she could hear Mistress Wulfrun’s reply.

‘Master Serlo. The cottage and those gore acres around it belong to him.’

Janna gave a long, low whistle as she quickly revised her opinion of the reeve. Mistress Tova had mentioned Serlo’s cottage and fields, but Janna hadn’t realised the full extent of his holding. Gytha would do well to encourage him, Janna thought now, for her chances of improving her station were far greater with Serlo than they could ever be with Hugh. As Serlo’s wife she would have a certain status; she would also become a woman of property. Yet as she mentally compared the two in her mind, she had to admit that in Gytha’s position she’d also be hoping for a future with Hugh rather than plighting her troth with Serlo.

With an effort, she dragged her thoughts back to the more pressing matter of the missing boy. ‘Has anyone looked in Serlo’s cottage for Hamo?’ As she spoke, Janna gestured towards it. Bones strained on his leash beside her, still whining.

‘Yes, indeed.’ Mistress Wulfrun caught hold of Janna’s arm. ‘Don’t think to go searching there, John. Master Serlo will not take kindly to anyone trespassing on his property. Besides, I saw him go in for his dinner at noon. Wherever Hamo may be, you can be sure he’s not there.’

Janna nodded, accepting that the woman was giving her good advice. ‘You know the manor farm better than I do, mistress,’ she said. ‘Where do you think Hamo might be?’

‘I wish I knew.’ The woman scratched her nose, looking thoughtful. ‘They say my lord Hugh has gone to break the bad news to Dame Alice, but in his absence Master Serlo will continue the search until the boy is found. Conscientious as he is, he knows every rock and tree on the manor farm. Wherever Hamo is, alive or dead, Master Serlo will find him.’

‘Then let us pray that Master Serlo finds Hamo alive!’ The alternative was too horrible to contemplate. As Janna walked on, calling Hamo’s name in the silences left between the clanging tones of the bell, she wondered how Cecily was faring and what she was doing. Newly in charge of Hamo and wanting only the best for Dame Alice, she must be beside herself with anxiety. And self-blame. How had Hamo managed to escape Cecily yet again? It was something she should have thought to ask right from the start.

Janna turned abruptly and hurried back to the manor, tugging Bones, who continued to bark and pull on his rope to get free.

Janna was just crossing the yard when she saw Cecily vanish through the line of pear and apple trees that hedged the kitchen garden. At once she followed, curious to find out what Hamo’s new nurse sought there. But it seemed that Cecily had merely escaped to find some privacy, for Janna found her sitting hunched under a pear tree, weeping as if her heart would break. Her head was buried in her lap and her arms were wrapped around to muffle the sounds she was making. She didn’t hear Janna approach.

‘Cecily.’ Janna put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. At Janna’s touch, the tiring woman leapt in fright and shied away. ‘Oh, it’s you, Janna,’ she said then, and subsided onto the ground once more. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and gave a mournful sniff. ‘What am I going to do?’ she burst out. ‘My lord Hugh has gone to tell Dame Alice that Hamo is missing. Ma dame will never forgive me if harm has come to him. I’ll never forgive myself. Oh, Janna, I have caused such trouble to my lady and her kin!’ She burst into a storm of weeping once more. This time she didn’t pull away when she felt Janna’s embrace, but leaned into Janna and wept even harder.

No wonder Cecily was hurting, Janna thought. She had loved Robert once, loved him enough to forget all honour, and all loyalty and gratitude to Dame Alice, Robert’s wife. That he’d proved so base, so unworthy of her sacrifice, must double both her sadness and her shame. And now there was the added blame of the disappearance of Dame Alice’s beloved only child. There was nothing Janna could say to ease Cecily’s pain or make things right for her. All she could do, all anyone could do, was look for Hamo and pray that he’d be found before it was too late.

Janna continued to hold Cecily, patting her arm as she did so. ‘Hush,’ she said at last, offering what little comfort she could. ‘Everyone’s out searching for Hamo. I’m sure he’ll be found soon.’ She wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t prepared to give up hope either. ‘Maybe we can put our heads together, and see if we can make some sense of all this?’