Devilʼs Brew: The Janna Chronicles 5 (11 page)

“I shall look out for him, I promise you. And if he wants an alehouse to slake his thirst, tell him to go to Hell!” Hugh might know of the alehouse or he might not. Janna didn’t care; he could make of her comment what he liked. She was about to leave, but he caught her arm and drew her close once more.

“You must not say anything to anyone of my warning, but I can tell you that Robert won’t be a threat to you for much longer.” Hugh’s voice was so quiet Janna could hardly hear him. “You must leave Winchestre, Johanna, at once, while there’s still time. Keep to the fields, don’t take any of the roads. And stay out of sight. Don’t trust anyone.” Without warning, he pulled her close and his lips brushed her cheek in a fleeting kiss. “Please – keep yourself safe.” He let her go and leaned back on his stool.

“But I don’t understand. Why won’t the lord Robert be a threat to me for much longer?” Confused, Janna turned to Godric, hoping that he might explain something of Hugh’s meaning. But his face was a shuttered mask, his eyes without warmth.

“Shh! You must not speak of it. All that I’ve said, I’ve told you in confidence.” Hugh scanned the room, checking that no-one was paying them any attention. But the customers were more intent on filling their bellies with ale and food; none looked their way. Hugh turned back to Janna. “Why did you leave the abbey? I know you talked about going in search of your father, but you surely won’t find him here.” He waved a hand, indicating the tavern.

Janna looked around, seeing it through Hugh’s eyes. He didn’t have to elaborate on how far she’d fallen since she last saw him. She willed Godric to say that she was still the same young woman they both knew, that her circumstances made no difference to the person she was inside. But to her disappointment, he kept silent.

“You don’t need to stay here, you know,” Hugh continued earnestly. “I once offered you a home at my manor farm, and I would still welcome you any time you wish to return.”

“That is kind of you, my lord.” Although Janna was tempted, she wasn’t sure it would be in her best interests to accept Hugh’s offer, should she fail in her search for her father. Godric would be there, of course, and what she most wanted was to be close to Godric. But Hugh was his overlord and Godric would be forced to abide by Hugh’s plans for her – whatever they might be. Janna cast a sideways glance at Godric as she remembered that Hugh had just kissed her. Had Godric already jumped to the wrong conclusion? Was that why he wouldn’t look at her now? It was true that she’d been greatly attracted to Hugh when first they’d met. And that bond had seemed mutual, had grown deeper while she’d nursed him back to health at the abbey. But so much had happened since then, including her reunion with Godric.

“Have you abandoned your search for your father? Is that why you’re here in Winchestre?” Hugh persisted.

“I’m still looking, but I haven’t found him yet.”
But I do know who he is. It seems I’m the illegitimate granddaughter of the old king. What do you think about that, my lord?
She longed to tell Hugh and Godric everything, but could not, for she had nothing in her purse to prove her claim, nor even her father’s manor house, or his steward, to show them. To forestall any further questions, Janna asked one of her own.

“What brings you to Winchestre, my lord? Was it the earl’s call to arms?” She wouldn’t admit that she’d already seen him even before the siege began.

Hugh gave a rueful laugh, looking suddenly self-conscious. Intrigued, Janna looked to Godric for an explanation, but he was sitting with arms folded and head bowed, studying the wet-slopped table as if it bore the secrets of the universe.

“Although my aunt is a tenant of the king, her sympathies have long been with the empress. Especially at this time,” Hugh said into the silence. “Yes, I came in answer to Robert of Gloucestre’s call for support, as I have before. But in fact I was already near Winchestre when the call came.” A smile twitched the sides of his mouth as he looked down at Janna. “As I recall, I was on my way home from another such skirmish when we first met.”

“You were riding your destrier through Wiltune, my lord. You looked as if you owned the world!” Janna remembered the occasion only too well.

Hugh’s face shadowed. “Unfortunately I don’t own the world, or anything like it! Even my armor and weapons belonged to my father. They came to me after his death. As for the destrier, I won him in battle. But he is mine now, and we have grown close over the months we have served together. He is, indeed, a fine mount, fierce and spirited, quick to bite and kick when necessary, and fleet of foot. I credit him with saving my life on more than one occasion.”

Janna was surprised that a noble lord like Hugh should have so little to call his own. But then she remembered that he was entirely dependent on his aunt for everything, including the manor farm he managed in her name until such time as his cousin was old enough to take it on for himself.

“Service to the earl in battle is one way I can win riches and land for myself,” Hugh continued. “It’s the dream of every landless knight, but it’s not a dream to be proud of. You snatch the spoils of battle, those horses that have been abandoned, and the armor of dead men. You loot villages wherever you may, and burn what’s left so the enemy can find no succor. Most important of all, you hope to capture a baron and hold him to ransom, knowing that the silver paid for his release will buy you land and wealth of your own in the future.”

Janna gazed at Hugh, amazed that he would admit so much to her, yet with a knot of sickness in her stomach that told her he spoke the truth. This was the reality of war and its aftermath.

“Most young knights go willingly to battle, but some who do not need the spoils of war live in dread of a call to arms. Like my uncle. Unfortunately for him, every last man was pressed into service before the siege of Winchestre. And it’s become a battle we’re unlikely to win.”

“Of course, the earl knew he’d be unable to forge a new alliance with the Bishop of Winchestre. That’s why he brought you all here, to decide the matter once and for all.” Janna stopped abruptly, realizing she was giving Hugh secret information.

“You’re remarkably well informed.”
For a drudge in a tavern.
The words hung between them, even though Hugh did not utter them.

“You hear all sorts of things in a place like this, my lord,” she said hastily. She wished she knew what had prompted Hugh’s warning and why he seemed so down-hearted and uncomfortable – he hadn’t seemed so when she’d spied him in the high street with Hamo. She wanted to ask what had brought them all here, but to ask him outright would be to admit she’d known he was in Winchestre before his appearance at the tavern. “And how is your family, my lord? How fares the young lord?” she asked instead.

“Hamo is well.” Hugh hesitated. “In fact, he’s here too, but in the circumstances, I wish he wasn’t!”

“He’s here in Winchestre!” Janna was horrified.

“He’s not here in the heart of things, he’s on a manor farm near Tuiforde with his nurse, Cecily.” Hugh stopped, looking even more uncomfortable. His gaze switched from Janna to a point across the room. “They’re staying with Geoffrey fitz William and his wife.”

“And did you bring your cousin to visit them, my lord?”

Hugh nodded. “My aunt decided that it would be good for Hamo to meet Sire Geoffrey, for as soon as Hamo is old enough he will join the lord’s household to learn about a knight’s duties and responsibilities, just as all young squires must do, and just as I did too.”

“You spent some of your boyhood with Sire Geoffrey?” Janna was fascinated to hear of Hugh’s early life, for she’d always supposed he’d lived at Babestoche with his aunt until moving to her manor near Wicheford. Yet she’d learned that it was common practice for the sons of nobility to be brought up in the households of other family members, or friends, although Hamo still seemed far too young for such a doting mother to let her only child out of her sight.

Still avoiding Janna’s gaze, Hugh said, “Our families have known each other for a long time.”

“And you came to keep your cousin company?” Janna hinted, with a questioning glance at Godric. Why was he here too?

“My aunt suggested that I bring Hamo to meet Sire Geoffrey. She told me to accompany him, said it was in my best interests to do so. Of course, there was no hint of this trouble brewing, not then.”

“And?” Janna prompted, knowing there was more to this tale than Hugh had confessed so far. She knew she was taking a liberty in pushing him, but plagued as she was by curiosity, she was determined to find out why he seemed so uncomfortable.

“And Sire Geoffrey has a daughter. Eleanor.”

“Ah.” Janna was beginning to understand what Hugh wasn’t telling her. “And is Sire Geoffrey’s daughter betrothed – or wed?” she asked innocently.

“No.”

Janna waited for Hugh to elaborate on his answer. When he stayed silent, she decided she would have to push him further. “And is she of an age to wed? Is she beautiful, my lord?” She looked quickly at Godric, and found him staring at Hugh with an unreadable expression.

Hugh hesitated. “Yes, she is old enough to wed,” he said finally. And then added in a more definite tone, “And yes, she looks well enough.”

“She is a comely woman, you said so yourself, sire,” Godric exclaimed hotly.

“True.” But Hugh didn’t sound particularly enthusiastic, and in that one word Janna read his reluctance to commit to a marriage that he needed but didn’t want. Perhaps seeking to avoid further questions, Hugh rushed into an explanation. “Fortunately, Sire Geoffrey’s property is some miles south of Winchestre. Once the battle started and the queen’s troops began to encircle the town, we felt that Hamo would be safer there than attempting the journey home. It will give him a chance to become acquainted with Sire Geoffrey’s household.”

“And I am here to speak to Eleanor’s father about the property his daughter will bring to her marriage, for it will come under Lord Hugh’s care and my management when it is done,” Godric explained, finally losing patience with Hugh’s prevarication.

Hugh’s lips tightened. “And Cecily is here, not to look after Hamo, but because she would not be parted from you,” he retaliated.

Godric cast him a resentful glance, but kept silent.

So that was the truth of their relationship. Janna tasted the bitter ashes of defeat. It was as she’d thought: Godric and Cecily had made a match, perhaps even at Hugh’s instigation. For Godric had said nothing of love, she realized now, even though she’d imagined it in his delight and in the way he’d held her in such a close embrace. Whatever their kiss might have meant to him, there was no future for her and Godric, for his future was already decided elsewhere.

Janna had thought, when she heard Ulf’s news about her father’s manor house, that things could not get worse, that she had finally reached the end. Now she realized that despair was infinite and deep. She had the sensation of being caught in a vortex, spiraling ever downward, no longer in control of her destiny. She tried to marshal her thoughts, knowing she could not turn her back on everything she’d achieved thus far. She must keep the solemn vow she’d made to her mother to avenge her murder, and that meant she must keep on until she found her father – even if she died in the attempt. She drew in a deep breath and made a desperate effort to steady herself.

Until now, she’d suspected she might never see Godric – or Hugh – again. Fate had brought them to her, and even if Godric and Cecily had made a match, Hugh had not – at least, not yet. In saving him from an unwanted marriage, could she at the same time save herself? Was that the best, even the only way forward?

All she had in her favor was the possibility of one day finding her father, of finding her true place in the world. But could she jeopardize Hugh’s future on something so chancy? Perhaps she could, if he was willing to take the risk with her. She could only ask questions, and find out.

“Is it your wish to wed Mistress Eleanor, my lord?” she asked.

Hugh looked miserable. “It is my aunt’s hope that we will. Eleanor was betrothed to the son of a baron as a child. But – but he died in battle, before they could be wed.”

“And now she’s looking for a new husband?”

“Her father is on her behalf.” Hugh hesitated for a moment. “He would look further for someone higher than me, for she will bring a large dowry to the marriage, and will inherit everything on her father’s death.” Perhaps misreading Janna’s compassion as judgment, he rushed to defend himself. “I have never made any secret of the fact that I have nothing in my own right, and that I must marry well! And it seems that Eleanor looks upon me with love, even if not with her father’s favor. In fact, without her family’s friendship with my aunt, I doubt things would have progressed even as far as they have. But her father knows me from my time in his household, and so does Eleanor, and she is forever at her father now to make this match.” He kicked viciously at a wooden stool standing close, the movement expressing his frustration with the situation as he said bitterly, “I haven’t spoken to her yet, but it seems that I must. But I tell you, Johanna, I would far rather follow my heart in this.”

At last he looked her full in the face, his meaning written plain upon his features. Janna stared back at him, wondering what to do for the best. Should she tell him about her expectations in the hope of a marriage proposal? But, if her high hopes came to naught, the marriage would be blighted and their relationship soured beyond repair. She didn’t want that for him. And she certainly didn’t want that for herself.

“Then may I wish you good fortune with your wooing, my lord,” she said instead. It took all her determination not to look at Godric, lest she betray her utter devastation that he was lost to her. “I must go about my duties,” she muttered, and whisked away.

But she could not stop her thoughts from churning as she continued to serve ale and food to the customers. She’d believed, after Ralph, that she would never love or trust anyone again. Indeed, her heart shriveled small at the memory of how badly hurt she had been. This meeting with Godric had shaken her more than she’d thought was possible. Now that she’d come to a true understanding of her love for him it was all too late. His loyalty lay with his overlord – and with Cecily. And he knew it. That must be why he’d turned away from her after the passionate kiss they’d shared. Perhaps he and Cecily were already wed, and that was why Cecily would not be parted from him. Whatever Godric’s circumstances, it seemed Janna could stake no claim on his heart or his life. So she must look to her own future, whatever that might be.