Janna Mysteries 1 & 2 Bindup (39 page)

‘No.’ This time the answer came bold and clear.

‘No. Well, I am sorry for that. But we can both reassure Edwin concerning the travellers, for they have asked the lord Hugh about him, but he has kept our secret.’

Now Bertha looked startled. Janna smiled grimly to herself. ‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Please, mistress, tell me where Edwin is, for my sake and for his.’

Reluctantly, Bertha stepped aside, and beckoned Janna to come in.

‘He’s here?’ Janna could hardly believe it.

Bertha nodded. She put a finger to her lips, warning Janna to silence, then led her through the carpenter’s workshop and into the room beyond. While Janna greeted Bertha’s surprised family, Bertha picked up a bucket of slops containing vegetable peelings and assorted greens, and a small sack of grain. She walked on through to a pen adjoining their cottage. In it were a pig and three small piglets, two goats and several hens. They crowded around Bertha as she walked in, clamouring to be fed, but she pushed past them and walked on to a small thatched cover at the back of the pen. A pile of wood was set under the thatch out of the weather. Janna’s confusion grew.

‘Edwin?’ Bertha called softly.

He peered around the wood pile with a cheerful grin, which quickly turned to a frown of concern when he noticed that Bertha had company.

‘Have you been here all the time?’ Janna asked, astonished.

‘No,’ Bertha answered for Edwin. ‘He told me he was leaving the manor, and he showed me where he’d be – up a tree in the forest. You were right, John – Janna – I brought food to him there. But when Hamo went missing, I knew Edwin was in danger of being found, and so I went to fetch him as soon as it grew dark.’

‘I watched you all go out to search for the boy.’ Edwin’s tone was regretful as he added, ‘I wanted to help look for him too, but I dared not come out of hiding, for the travellers were part of the search party. You know who they are? You know why I had to run?’

‘Yes, I know,’ Janna reassured him.

‘And the boy? Hamo? He is still not found?’

‘No.’ The bell began to ring out its lonely message once more, confirming that the search continued. Edwin’s words reassured Janna that he really knew nothing about Hamo’s disappearance. But that left the problem of the missing length of woollen cloth and the silver goblets. ‘Some things have been stolen from the storage chests in the undercroft,’ she said now. ‘What do you know about it, Edwin? And don’t lie to me, either. You stole my purse from me, I haven’t forgotten that.’ A shocked gasp, quickly suppressed, told Janna that Edwin hadn’t been entirely honest with Bertha.

‘I don’t know nothing about stealing goods from the undercroft,’ Edwin blustered, angry that Janna had shown him in a bad light. ‘What’s missing? And why should you think I had anything to do with it? I haven’t even been at the manor, I’ve been up a tree!’

‘Sshh, keep your voices down,’ Bertha warned. ‘I’ll leave you two to argue while I feed the animals.’

Watching Bertha empty the bucket of greens and slops, and throw grain to the hens, hearing the clucking, grunting and bleating as the animals fought one another to get to the food first, reminded Janna of her own chores when she’d lived with her mother. She felt a sharp pang of sadness. Their lives had been hard, but she’d been happy enough. She felt so much older now; she’d lost her childhood innocence the day her mother had died and she’d come face to face with evil. She would never be the same again.

Janna shook off her dark thoughts with an effort. While Bertha squatted to milk the goats, Janna began to tell Edwin what had been happening in his absence. Bertha joined in, ranging herself on Edwin’s side until Janna was convinced that they knew nothing about either the stolen property or the missing Hamo. They continued then to confer in low voices, with Janna trying to persuade Edwin to show himself while he and Bertha fiercely resisted all her arguments.

‘You’ve turned me into an a fugitive!’ Janna said hotly, when she saw he would not be persuaded.

‘You were a fugitive when I met you,’ Edwin reminded her.

It was true. But that fact didn’t help Janna now. ‘I’m supposed to be locked up in the barn. I’m certainly not going back there! But I can’t leave the manor either, not while Hamo is still missing. What am I to do?’

‘You can stay here with me,’ Edwin offered.

Janna moved over to investigate the small space between the fence of woven wattle and the woodpile. It was barely large enough to hide Edwin.

‘I s’pose you could stay here,’ Bertha said reluctantly. ‘The animals are my responsibility. No-one else comes out here but me. And my father, when he needs more wood, but Edwin knows to stay hidden unless he hears my voice.’

‘No, I thank you. I’ll find somewhere else to hide.’ Janna screwed up her face in concentration. Where could she go, and what could she do to help find Hamo? ‘I wish I knew whether he was lost or taken!’ she burst out.

‘Taken? Who?’ Both Edwin and Bertha turned to Janna in confusion.

‘Hamo.’ She pondered a moment, wondering if she could take them into her confidence. Yes, she decided. Three heads might be better than one at working out this puzzle. Besides, Bertha had lived here all her life, she might well know something from the past to help make sense of the present. ‘I wish I knew whether Hamo’s disappearance was connected in any way with what else has been happening here,’ she said carefully, and began to tell them about the sprigs of rue that were left each time to mark the scene of the so-called ‘accident’.

Talking about it helped to get the sequence of events clear in her mind, she found.

‘I thought Hamo’s disappearance was yet another “accident” when I found the posy of rue beside the door of the undercroft,’ she said, ‘but when Serlo accused me – us – of stealing the woollen cloth and goblets, I thought I must be mistaken, and that the rue was left to mark that instead. But now I’m not so sure.’

‘Why? What have the accidents and Hamo going missing got to do with each other, then?’ Bertha frowned at Janna.

‘I wish I knew,’ Janna said again. ‘It’s just that after I found the rue, I decided to search the barn myself to see if it meant anything. Serlo claims that the missing articles came from some wooden chests stored there, but I know they were all locked when I looked at them.’ She frowned, worried that she already knew the answer to the question she was about to ask. ‘Whoever took those things must have had a key to open the chests,’ she said. ‘So who would have a key?’

‘The lord Hugh. Master Serlo. Mistress Tova, and maybe Gytha?’ Bertha offered. Then she laughed, and shook her head. ‘But that’s silly. Why should any one of them want to cause harm to the manor – or to Hamo? Unless …’ She stopped.

‘Unless?’ Janna prompted, dreading to have her suspicions confirmed by the carpenter’s daughter.

‘Well, Gytha’s mother wants her to marry the reeve. Serlo has a good position and is held in great respect. He owns his cottage and the gore acres around it and, whatever happens to my lord Hugh once Hamo inherits this property, you can be sure that Master Serlo will keep his position here. But Gytha is determined that she’ll wed my lord and no other.’

Janna nodded. This she already knew. She waited for Bertha to explain herself.

‘I’m wondering if Gytha knows anything about Hamo’s disappearance? It’s terrible even to think it, but if something happens to Hamo then my lord Hugh will inherit all Dame Alice’s fortune, including this manor. That would please Gytha greatly. Hamo is the greatest barrier to her becoming the lord Hugh’s wife and the lady of his manor.’

‘Gytha?’ Janna hadn’t considered the young beauty before. She wondered if there could be any truth in Bertha’s words.

‘Gytha must know that if my lord Hugh inherits nothing when Hamo comes of age, he will need to marry someone with a fortune. He certainly won’t wed her,’ Bertha continued, unconsciously echoing Janna’s own thoughts on the matter. ‘Maybe Gytha knows something about Hamo’s disappearance? Maybe she’s even the cause of it?’

‘It’s possible, I suppose,’ Janna said dubiously. Did Gytha have the courage or the guile to carry out such a dreadful mission? It seemed unlikely. It seemed even more unlikely that she was involved in any of the incidents that had gone before. While she would have had the time and the opportunity to carry them out, she had no motive and nothing to gain from any of them. A sudden thought lodged like an arrow in Janna’s heart. Could Hugh and Gytha be in this together, and working for their common cause?

‘Watch Gytha, see where she goes, what she does,’ she told Bertha. ‘If she knows where Hamo is, sooner or later she’ll lead you to him.’

Bertha nodded, looking self-important and proud. Janna was relieved that Bertha hadn’t taken her guess to its logical conclusion. If Gytha had everything to lose when Hamo inherited the land from Dame Alice, so did Hugh. Whichever way she looked at the problem, it always came back to him. He, more than anyone, had good reason to kidnap Hamo, as well as the means and opportunity to carry it out. He would not have to use force. The boy would go with him willingly. She was about to say so, but found that Hugh’s name stuck in her throat. She could not say it out loud, because she still didn’t want to believe it. She would hide, and watch, and wait until she found proof of his culpability, Janna decided. Then, and only then, would she call Hugh to account.

‘I’d better go,’ she said, and scrambled to her feet. Bertha stood up to accompany her. Edwin gave Janna an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry you have to face this alone,’ he said. ‘But I’ll come out of hiding just as soon as those travellers leave the manor, I promise you.’

‘And then?’ Janna queried. ‘Will you come on to Winchestre with me?’

Edwin and Bertha exchanged glances. She spoke up for both of them. ‘It is our wish to be wed, if the lord Hugh permits it,’ she said. ‘I have asked my father to take Edwin on as an apprentice and he has already agreed to it. Edwin’s life lies here now, with me.’

Janna nodded in understanding. ‘Good luck to you then,’ she said, ‘and I wish you both great happiness.’ She turned to Bertha. ‘Please keep close watch on Gytha and, if you have any further ideas about Hamo’s disappearance, either of you, please tell me.’ She gave Edwin a farewell salute, then followed Bertha out through the cottage, taking time to give her younger sister an awkward wave as she passed.

Needing to find shelter, Janna headed off towards the forest for the night, all the while keeping a lookout for telltale flickers of light from the searchers, and listening anxiously for sounds of the hunt. She’d sworn never to pass another night up a tree again, and so she looked around for somewhere else she might shelter – and found it in the sheep shed where she and Edwin had hidden once before. With relief, she hurried towards it, sure that she’d be safe there for the night, for it must already have been searched by others as well as by herself.

She debated gathering leaves and straw to make a softer bed, but decided against it. Even if she cleaned out the shed in the morning, she was bound to leave signs of occupation behind, signs that could be misinterpreted. With a sigh of resignation, she cleared a small patch of the hard flinty ground free of sheep’s mundungus, and lay down. She was exhausted, but her thoughts churned endlessly, keeping her fretful and awake. Hamo. He must be feeling so frightened, and so alone.

And Hugh! Her suspicions seemed impossible when she recalled his kindness, his gentle touch as he comforted her after her mother’s death. His kiss … Her body ached and burned with memories of Hugh.

At some time during the night she heard the sound of voices and leapt up, trying to judge whether she was safe, whether she had time to run. She opened the door a crack and peered out across the water meadows. The weary villeins were returning home, their torches burned as low as their spirits judging by the snatches of conversation that came her way through the still night air. Hamo was not found then. The hunt would start again at dawn. She dozed, awoke, and dozed again until a gradual lightening to the east told her that the sun would soon rise, and the searchers with it.

She scrambled to her feet and rolled her shoulders to ease their stiffness, then rubbed her arms to generate a little warmth. She was cold and hungry. She could almost smell the fresh bread baking in the kitchen, the rich scent of pig roasting on a spit, and was tempted to sneak back to the manor and ask Mistress Tova for something to break her fast. Instead, she slipped into the forest to find something to eat. Some mushrooms, hastily collected and eaten raw, helped ease the hollow emptiness in her stomach, while a few early raspberries added a touch of sweetness at the finish. The golden aura of the sun peeping above the horizon spoke of a fine day, a fact that added to her rising spirits, her confidence that Hamo was still alive and would be found.

Hugh – or Gytha? Janna shook her head, sure that the answer lay with the one who stood to gain the most from Hamo’s death. She resolved to keep herself hidden until Hugh’s return. After that she would follow him. If Hamo was alive, his first call must surely be to check on the boy, and when he did so, she would be there, following in his footsteps. She took comfort from the thought that if she was wrong, Bertha would be watching Gytha, ready to pounce if necessary. In the meantime, Janna sought shelter, needing to evade Serlo’s watchful eye. She found an old beech tree close to the path through the forest, and climbed high into its dense, leafy crown.