Free Janna Mysteries 1 & 2 Bindup by Felicity Pulman

irons and handed over to the king.’ Eadric smirked at the thought. It was the first time Janna had seen him smile.
    ‘Aye, that’s what I told the traveller. “Robert of Babestoche is the king’s man,” that’s what I told him.’
    ‘But is he, though? Robert, I mean?’
    The two men buried their faces in their beakers of ale and drank deep as they considered the question. Eadric’s friend was the first to put down his pot. ‘’Tis true Robert of Babestoche hasn’t travelled even as far as Sarisberie to pay homage to the king, so who knows where his loyalty lies? Or ours, for that matter?’ He cast a quick look over his shoulder to check whether any had heard his words, for they could be construed as treason. Janna quickly averted her gaze and instead studied her hands as if red, chapped skin and ragged nails were the most important things in her life right now.
    Eadric drained his beaker and set it down with a determined thud. ‘I don’t care who supports what, so long as the fighting don’t come any closer,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard tell there’s terrible hard times for those who are in the wrong place at the wrong time. Whole villages burnt, crops and beasts destroyed, people murdered in their beds or left to rot in dungeons. Tortured, even.’ He shuddered. ‘May the king, his ambitious cousin and those murdering barons keep as far from us as the moon itself, that’s what I say. The devil can take them all!’ He pushed his stool back and stood up, then lumbered slowly out of the room, followed by his companion.
    So the stranger’s name was Hugh and he was Dame Alice’s nephew. Janna sat back, finding more questions to replace those that the drinkers had already answered. When had Hugh been seen with Earl Robert of Gloucester – before or after Matilda’s half-brother had changed sides? Were they in agreement or at odds over the king? And what was his true purpose in coming to the manor? She felt a small shiver of fear run down her back at the thought that he might be running into a trap. Hastily, she consoled herself with the notion that Robert of Babestoche must have his mind on more urgent matters: the birth of his new son and the health of his wife.
    The crowd in the alehouse was thinning now as, refreshment taken, people went outside once more to bargain, buy or sell. Janna heard the bells ring out, and counted: one, two, three. It was time for her to change her market tokens into good silver, and go.
    Preoccupied as she was with questions about Hugh, and the more pressing matter of her father’s identity, Janna almost walked past the mill. Suddenly recalling her errand of the morning, she turned aside and went to the door to collect the bag of flour promised her by the miller’s wife. Hilde was not there, but the miller was, and he smiled a welcome as he noticed his visitor. Stockily built, he had the fair hair and beard typical of Saxon men. Women might find him irresistible, Janna thought, as she noted his cocky demeanour, but for herself she’d rather keep company with Godric – or even Hugh! The thought of the handsome stranger brought a rosy blush to her cheek. Hastily, Janna tried to compose herself. ‘I … I have come for the bag of flour promised me by Mistress Hilde,’ she said.
    The miller stood by the door, unmoving. His smile grew broader.
    ‘I left the usual crock of honey and some ointment for Mistress Hilde in return for the flour.’ Janna waited, wondering why he did not answer.
    He made no move to fetch the flour, but instead let his gaze roam over Janna’s body. ‘I believe I hold the toil of my labour more dearly than my wife does,’ he said at last, and stepped closer. ‘However, I am sure we can come to an arrangement agreeable to both of us.’ Before Janna had time to move, his hand was at her breast. He stroked her shrinking flesh through the fabric of her kirtle.
    ‘No!’ Janna backed off, flinging her arms across her chest to protect herself.
    The