Willows for Weeping (26 page)

'Two or three weeks, maybe less?' Warin said quickly. 'If he can find a ship, and if tides and winds are favourable for his passage.'

'We shall return next week. And the week after that. And every day thereafter, until such time as your lord arrives. And we shall hold you accountable if he does not come. Please be quite clear about this.'

Both Warin and Janna looked at Ulf with new respect. Janna wished she could utter commands so convincingly, then remembered how she had demanded that the steward provide her with writing materials. She'd made a start at least.

Warin gave a resigned shrug. 'This way, if you please,' he said. With his displeasure apparent in every disapproving line on his wrinkled old face, he stumped out of the orchard and through the garden towards the scriptorium from which they'd just come.

Once inside, he gestured towards a small table. It was set beside a window so that it could catch the light. With an expression that showed he begrudged every courtesy he was forced to show Janna, he fetched a sheet of parchment for her use, and some sharpened goose quills. An inkhorn stood close by. Janna looked at the closely written accounts she'd perused earlier, and swallowed nervously. She knew that her penmanship could never match the steward's, knew that she would be judged and found wanting. Nevertheless, this was her first chance to communicate directly with her father, and she was determined to make the most of it.

She sat down and picked up a quill. She hadn't had nearly so long as the steward to practise her writing, so she should keep her letter short, she thought. She didn't want to shame herself more than necessary in the eyes of Warin or her father.

And now the first challenge awaited her: how to address her father? She recalled the letter written by the bishop to his brother, the king. What was good for the king would surely do for her father. She dipped the quill into the inkhorn.

'To my honoured lord and father, greetings
,
'
she wrote. It was a good start, she thought, marred only by a blotch where she'd paused too long and the ink had run.
'I am your daughter, Johanna, named after you by my mother, Eadgyth, who was once the infirmarian at the abbey at Ambresberie. You may have known her as Sister Emanuelle.

'I have a letter written by you to my mother.'

Should she tell him that her mother had never read the letter, that she didn't know how to read? No. Explanations could wait until later, Janna thought. She dipped the quill into the inkhorn once more.
'I also have a ring with your crest, and a brooch with
"Amor vincit omnia"
inscribed thereon
,
'
she continued. Would this be proof enough to convince her father that she really was his daughter?

'To my great grief, my mother has died. But I am now in Winchestre and I hope that we may meet here very soon.'
Janna paused, and chewed thoughtfully on the end of the quill before recollecting what it was. She hastily spat out the splintered fragments. Should she say anything else? No, that was enough for now. How, then, should she sign herself?

'Your loving daughter, Johanna
,
'
she wrote. Her father might think her rude and presumptuous, but it was no more than the truth.

'Send this to your master without delay,' she commanded Warin, taking her cue from Ulf.

The steward bobbed his head, and held out his hand for the letter. 'I shall send it this afternoon,' he said. 'Pray, let me show you out, mistress.' He shot a nervous glance at Brutus as he ushered them out through the hall. Janna looked at the huge dog, which was trotting close to the steward's side, almost shepherding him to the door. She smothered a grin. If anything could persuade Warin to do as he promised, it would be the close attention of Brutus. The thought was almost enough to make up for her disappointment at not finding her father at home.

'And so we wait,' Ulf said, when they were out on the street once more.

'We need to find shelter while we do so,' said Janna, her mind coming down to more practical matters.

'I can take shelter wheresoever I might find it, but what will you do, mistress?'

'Janna, Ulf. Janna. That's who I am!' She felt uncomfortable, had thought Ulf was putting on airs for the steward's sake. She hadn't realised he would continue to humble himself afterwards.

'Janna,' Ulf repeated solemnly. He jerked his thumb back in the direction of the gate. 'Why don't you stay here? This is your father's home. There's no reason why you can't –'

'There's every reason why I can't,' Janna contradicted firmly. 'I'm not staying here with that creepy old steward! But perhaps I could ask the Nunnaminster to take me in?' she continued doubtfully. 'It's a convent. I passed it as I walked along the High Street.'

'Good idea!' Ulf looked relieved. 'Why don't we go there now? I'll escort you, if I may?'

'Of course! Please.' Janna was sorry the relic seller seemed to think she wanted nothing more to do with him. 'I will still see you after today, won't I?' she asked anxiously. 'Because I'd really like you to come with me when I visit the steward again to see if my father has returned. Without Brutus to persuade him, I don't think he'll tell me anything!'

Ulf grinned, back to his former cheerful self. 'Of course I'll keep close by. Try to keep me away, in fact! I've never brushed so close against royalty before!'

'Royalty?' Janna gave a self-deprecating laugh. And yet it was true, she thought, suddenly jolted by the prospects now opening before her. She had come so far since the dark time of her mother's death, further than she had ever dreamed possible. But there was still a long way to go before she could return home to seek justice against the lord who had brought about her mother's death. First, she had to find her father and persuade him of the rightness of her cause. But that wasn't the end of her ordeal. When she went home she would also have to face Hugh and Godric, and their wives and families if by then they were wed. She shook her head, struggling to throw off the burden of memories and regret.

She must not think of them now. Nor should she dwell on all the mistakes and misjudgments she'd made in the past, for there was no turning back time to put them right. Instead, she must learn from what had happened. Learn caution, learn to guard her heart and her quick tongue. More important, she must endeavour to learn who to trust and who not. Her mother had been wrong to trust no-one. Ulf had shown her that. And not only Ulf. Others, too, had given her their help and friendship when she'd most needed it.

Since starting her journey she had learned much. Now she must look towards the future and guard herself against errors of judgment or action, lest they jeopardise the success of her cause.

She looked down at the feather still clutched tight in her hand. 'It'll bring you luck, if you believe,' Ulf had told her.

She would believe. And the feather would surely bring her luck, and her father with it.

IN 1141, KING STEPHEN was incarcerated in the castle of Bristol after being taken prisoner at the Battle of Lincoln. With the aid of Bishop Henry, Stephen's brother, the Empress Matilda prepared herself to take Stephen's place. Shortly before her coronation in June, she was chased out of London by the queen's troops and the Londoners who had turned against her. She fled to Oxford, and spent July there, rallying forces and making promises to the barons, giving gifts of land and titles in return for their support. She had alienated many of them with her high-handed ways, including Bishop Henry. Robert visited Henry in Winchester mid-July to settle their differences but achieved little. In my novel, the letter gives evidence of Henry's treachery. A chronicle from the time, the
Gesta Stephani
, suggests that the bishop might well have been behind the London uprising. The same account suggests that he may never have supported Matilda's bid for the throne. Other accounts date their falling-out from the time Matilda refused to honour her promise not to meddle in ecclesiastic affairs when she insisted on appointing William Cumin as the new bishop of Durham, against Henry's wishes. But the real sticking point in her relationship with Bishop Henry was her refusal to confirm the Honour of Boulogne, held by the king, upon the king's son, Eustace. She may even have promised the title and lands to others.

Records show that the king received messages while incarcerated at Bristol: it seems fair to suggest that his own brother might have kept in touch with him (but perhaps not quite so indiscreetly!).

After leaving Winchester without a satisfactory response from the bishop, Earl Robert returned to Oxford to muster the empress's army.

The hand of St James the Apostle was given to Reading Abbey by Henry I, who is buried there. The church took forty years to build, and Reading was a hotly contested site throughout the civil war, so I took the liberty of removing the hand to Wilton for 'safekeeping'. Matilda was at Reading in March 1141, just before Easter and before she went to Wilton, and Marjorie Chibnall's
The Empress Matilda
reports that, although the hand was meant to be at Reading Abbey, 'Henry of Blois somehow carried it off into his private treasury early in Stephen's reign'. I had actually already written this scenario before I read this, but it fits in perfectly: Winifred steals the hand from Wilton. Ralph then steals it from Winifred and gives it to his master, Henry of Blois, Bishop of Winchester. It seems I have solved a mystery!

The earliest recorded version of the history of Stonehenge comes from Geoffrey of Monmouth's
History of the Kings of Britain
(written around 1136 and dedicated to Robert, Earl of Gloucestre, half-brother of the Empress Matilda). Geoffrey was also the first to write a coherent narrative of the reign of 'King Arthur', the wellspring for all subsequent versions of the legend. (These are the 'new stories' related by Faldo to Janna.) Geoffrey credits Merlin with moving the stones from Ireland to Salisbury Plain, the site of Stonehenge. He also refers to the healing properties of the stones: 'they washed the stones and poured the water into baths, whereby those who were sick were cured. Moreover, they mixed confections of herbs with the water, whereby those who were wounded were healed, for not a stone is there that is wanting in virtue or leechcraft.'

Some of the most important accounts I have used in researching
Willows for Weeping
include
Gesta Stephani
(The Life of Stephen), William of Malmesbury's
Historia Novella
,
The Empress Matilda
by Marjorie Chibnall, and
King Stephen
by R.H.C. Davis.

* * *

As always, my thanks to Dr Gillian Polack for her advice and assistance with this manuscript. Thanks also to Linsay Knight and the team at Random House for their support of the
Janna Mysteries
, and to Zoe for her meticulous and skilful editing of the manuscript.

aelfshot
: a belief that illness or a sudden pain (like rheumatism, arthritis or a 'stitch' in the side) was caused by elves who shot humans or livestock with darts

alehouse
: ale was a common drink in the middle ages. Housewives brewed their own for domestic use, while alewives brewed the ale served in alehouses and taverns. A bush tied to a pole was the recognised symbol of an alehouse, at a time when most of the population could not read.

amor vincit omnia
: love conquers all

baron
: a noble of high rank, a tenant-in-chief who holds his lands from the king

breeches
: trousers held up by a cord running through the hem at the waist

chansons de geste
: songs of heroic deeds

cresset
: a primitive light made from a wick floating in a bowl of oil or animal fat

currency
: while large sums of money could be reckoned in pounds or marks, the actual currency for trading was silver pennies. There were twelve to a shilling and twenty shillings to a pound. A penny could also be cut into half, called a 'ha'penny', or a quarter, called a 'farthing'.

dorter
: dormitory

dowry
: a sum of money paid for a woman, either as a marriage settlement or to secure her place in an abbey

feudal system
: a political, social and economic system based on the relationship of lord to vassal, in which land was held on condition of homage and service. Following the Norman conquest, William I distributed land once owned by Saxon 'ealdormen' (chief men) to his own barons, who in turn distributed land and manors to subtenants in return for fees, knight service and, in the case of the villeins, work in the fields. The Abbess of Wilton held an entire barony from the king and owed the service of five knights in return.

gong-fermours
: 'gong farmers', whose job it is to clean out cess pits and spread the 'mundungus' (toilet waste) over the fields

Henricus dei gratia wintoniensis episcopus
: Henry, by the Grace of God, Bishop of Winchester

hue and cry
: with no practising police force other than a town sergeant to enforce the law, anyone discovering a crime was expected to 'raise a hue and cry' – shouting aloud to alert the community to the fact that a crime had been committed, after which all those within earshot must commence the pursuit of the criminal

infirmarian
: takes care of the sick in the infirmary (abbey hospital)

laisses
: stanzas

Mathildis dei gratia Romanorum regina
: Matilda, by the Grace of God, Queen of the Romans

moneyer
: a moneyer (or coiner) was responsible for minting the coins of the realm

motte and bailey castle
: earth mound with wooden or stone keep (tower) on top, plus an enclosure or courtyard, all of it surrounded and protected by a ditch and palisade (fence)

novice
: after about a year serving as a postulant, and if your vocation remains firm, you become a novice until such time as you are deemed ready to take your final vows

pilgrim
: anyone who makes a journey to a sacred place

postulant
: anyone who enters the abbey with the intention of becoming a nun

pottage
: a vegetable soup or stew

requiescat in pace
: Latin for 'rest in peace'. The letters RIP are still engraved on headstones today.

Rule of St Benedict
: St Benedict lived circa 480–547 AD, and composed his
Regula Monachorum
(Rule for Monasteries) in 515 AD. This became the common Rule for all western monachism, directing monks to live in religious houses, observe all the usual religious exercises and employ themselves in manual labour, teaching, copying manuscripts, etc. Seventy-three 'chapters' of direction make up the Rule.

sacristan
: looks after the sacred relics and treasures of the abbey

scrip
: a small bag

scriptorium
: a room in a monastery where monks wrote, copied and illuminated manuscripts. In this case it serves as the 'office' of the estate.

solar
: a private room where the lord could retire with his family or entertain his friends

steward
: appointed by a baron to manage an estate

theod herepath
: the people's way

tiring woman
: a female attendant on a lady of high birth and importance

villein
: peasant or serf tied to a manor and to an overlord, and given land in return for labour and a fee – either money or produce

wortwyf
: a herb wife, a wise woman and healer