Free Janna Mysteries 1 & 2 Bindup by Felicity Pulman Page B

lived somewhere else. Either that, or her father had moved on rather than deal with the fact of her birth. Would she want to acknowledge someone like that, someone so cowardly that he would leave a maiden – either wed or unwed – to face her ordeal alone?
    No, she would not! Neither would her mother – and yet Eadgyth had confessed that she loved him still. What could have gone so wrong between them that he’d abandoned them?
    Janna’s thoughts were interrupted by the faint drumming of hooves. As she listened, the sounds became louder. A horse from the manor house, bringing her mother home? She tipped Alfred off her lap, then unhooked the pot of vegetables and laid them aside in readiness.
    The cat’s back arched and its black fur stood on end as it faced the door. ‘Scaredy-cat!’ Janna scoffed. The sounds of hoof beats died. A loud knock thundered against the door. Not her mother then. Janna knew a moment’s alarm. Surely not Fulk! Could it be Godric? No, he wouldn’t come on horseback. Just like her, like most of the villeins, he wouldn’t know how to ride a horse. She hurried to the door and opened it.
    A man stood outside, solidly built and clad in the garb of a servant. Janna’s first instinct was to close the door on him, but he jammed a foot against it. ‘I am sent to fetch you, mistress,’ he said. ‘You must come at once.’ Janna’s heart plummeted as she noticed the compassion in his eyes.
    ‘What has happened?’ Instinctively, she took a step backwards, as if to distance herself from what was to come.
    ‘Your mother is taken so ill she is like to die. Dame Alice hopes that you might yet save her.’ Without waiting for her reply, he turned and hastened towards his mount.
    ‘But … how? What is amiss with my mother?’ Dazed and confused, Janna stared after him.
    ‘I know not.’ He did not check his stride, nor did he turn to look at her.
    Thrown off-balance, too upset even to close the door behind her, Janna scurried after him. Before she had time to protest, the man put his hands around her waist and swung her high onto the horse’s back, then vaulted up in front of her. ‘Hold tight.’ He dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and the beast took off across the downs in the direction of Babestoche.
    Janna had never been on horseback before. Excitement and terror overrode her modesty. She’d landed astride the horse but she had no time to cover her legs with her kirtle, no time for anything but to throw her arms around the stranger, lean close and hold on for her life.
    Her mother so ill she was like to die? Eadgyth had seemed perfectly well when Janna had said goodbye to her. She couldn’t believe it, yet the proof was in this race across the downs. Silently, Janna berated herself for not taking the time to select some healing herbs, but how could she know what to bring when she didn’t even know what was amiss? Would she have the skill, the ability to heal her mother? Janna closed her eyes. Guilt washed over her as she recalled their argument. Eadgyth was right. She was still too young, too ignorant. She was certainly no healer, not yet, not even when her mother’s life depended on it. Yet who else was there to help, if she could not? Perhaps she should have questioned the servant more closely, rather than allowing herself to be swept up by the urgency of his message. The knot of anxiety tightened in Janna’s stomach. ‘Hurry, hurry,’ she whispered in time to the horse’s galloping hooves. ‘Hurry, hurry!’
    They pelted on through the night until they came at last to the gatehouse of Babestoche Manor. The gate was already up and the horse galloped through, not breaking its stride. Janna caught a brief glimpse of the gatekeeper standing by as they rushed past.
    The manor house loomed large before them. Made of stone, it was the biggest house Janna had ever seen. She had only a confused impression of bulky darkness below and a faint gleam of candlelight shining through window