Lilies for Love (6 page)

Janna knew how much Agnes's sacrifice meant to her and felt deeply sorry, yet she was at a loss to suggest a way out of the problem.

'Never think you are a burden, Sister Agnes,' the bailiff protested firmly. 'I would not have you toil in the fields any more, for I have seen how difficult it is for you, but . . .' He looked around, seeming momentarily at a loss for words. His face suddenly brightened. 'But I have just the task for you,' he said cheerfully, and beckoned one of the children forward. 'As you know, the abbey takes a tithe of all the wheat we'll reap here.' He took the cloth bag from the child and held it out in front of them. 'See,' he said, indicating the gleaned wheat that the child had gathered. 'Instead of keeping one of the mothers back to supervise the children, perhaps you might do it instead? The young ones especially need watching.'

Agnes's smile stretched from ear to ear. 'Oh, I would like that,' she breathed.

'Then I'll see you both tomorrow.' The bailiff's glance rested on Agnes for a moment, before he walked away to deal with a question from a waiting villein. Janna took Agnes's left arm to help her up and, together, they strolled back to the abbey. While Agnes babbled happily about the bailiff's kindness, and what a good man he was, Janna wondered if kindness was his only motivation, and where it all might end.

I
T WAS
J
ANNA'S
turn to scythe the wheat on the following day. She and Agnes were late coming to the fields for, as expected, there'd been a complaint from Sister Martha at chapter.

'He picked her up in his arms. He
carried
her over to a tree!' From her awed, horrified tone, Janna was quite sure the gnat's imagination had turned an act of kindness into a scene of utter debauchery. She hurried to intervene.

'The bailiff was merely trying to help,' she said. 'Sister Agnes was . . .' She hesitated, suddenly aware that it was not up to her, as a newcomer, to explain Agnes to her sisters.

'I was in great pain from having to lift the heavy bundles of wheat in order to tie them,' Agnes said, with dignity. 'Master Will carried me over to a tree so that I might sit under it in comfort.' She glared at Martha. 'You cannot make any more of it than that!'

'You had better stay within the abbey today, Sister Agnes,' the abbess decided.

'But Master Will has a very important task for her to do!' Janna protested, knowing how disappointed her friend would feel to be denied the day's outing.

'You will allow Sister Agnes to speak for herself!' The abbess turned a fiery glance on Janna. 'I know you are new to our community, but you will remember St Benedict's Rule of Silence, and you will only speak when you are spoken to.' She turned her attention back to Agnes. 'What is your task?' she snapped.

'To . . . to look after the children who follow the reapers and glean the fallen wheat.' Agnes waited, with bent head, for the abbess's decision.

'Very well.' But Abbess Hawise sounded somewhat reluctant. 'You may go out to the fields today, to see how well you acquit yourself in your new task. But if you feel you could use your time to better purpose in the abbey, then I expect you to make a proper choice thereafter. Be sure I shall ask you for your decision at chapter tomorrow.'

Neat. Janna admired the abbess's tactics, while feeling sorry that her friend had been put in such a bind. She cheered herself with the thought that Agnes's care of the children was genuinely useful in that it freed someone else to take on the burden of her labour.

The villeins were already hard at work in the fields by the time they came out of chapter, and the other lay sisters hurried on ahead while Janna kept pace with Agnes. Leaving her friend to go out to the children in the fields, Janna entered the shed in search of a scythe and a pair of gloves.

It was dark after the brightness outside and she waited a moment for her eyes to become accustomed to the gloom. The door suddenly banged shut behind her, cutting off what light there was. Janna jumped at the sound and turned around, only to find herself enveloped in a pair of strong arms.

'I knew if I waited long enough, I'd catch you alone,' Mus murmured.

Janna knew a moment of sheer panic. She was just about to lash out but realised she was powerless in his grip. She forced herself to relax. 'What do you want?' she asked, her voice made husky with fear.

His grip tightened. He gave a short laugh. 'You know what I want,' he said, and kissed her, pressing his lips hard against her own.

Janna swallowed against the bile rising in her throat. She was quite sure his purpose wasn't to seduce her, not if he was Robert's man. Yet it seemed he wasn't averse to having a little fun before he carried out Robert's instructions. She noticed the gleam of a scythe, one of several stacked close to the door. If she could only manoeuvre him a little closer to it, it would make a good weapon. She gave a little laugh, and softened into his embrace. 'Perhaps I've misjudged you,' she said, and was rewarded as his grip lessened slightly. She tried to shift towards the door, but he held his ground, keeping her close. She closed her eyes to think, to make a plan. His tongue pushed into her mouth. Janna tried not to gag, had to try even harder not to bite down. Deliberately, she pushed herself against him, and felt him hard with wanting. She rubbed her hips against his, and heard the hiss of his breath. He clamped his mouth more firmly on hers, while his hand moved to her breast.

Shaking with fear, Janna managed to give a small giggle. 'I can't breathe properly, Mus,' she protested, and pulled away from him. Not giving him a chance to respond, she forked two fingers and jabbed forward, throwing all her weight into the action and aiming straight for his eyes. As he howled in protest, she jerked up her knee and rammed him in the groin. For good measure, she then stamped down hard on his toes. Leaving him doubled over in pain, she flung open the door and raced across to the bailiff.

'Help!' she shouted. 'Help! I've been attacked!'

At once everyone came running to the shed. The bailiff marched in and grabbed Mus and yanked him upright. A big, thickset man, he was more than a match for Mus. He hauled Mus over to Janna. 'Is this the man, Sister?' he asked, and Janna nodded.

'Do you know him? Have you met him before?'

Janna hesitated. 'The first time I ever spoke to him was here, out in the field,' she said truthfully.

'Who are you?' This time the bailiff addressed Mus, who stayed silent.

'He told me his name is Alan, but he's called Mus,' Janna said helpfully.

Mus glared at her. 'She enticed me here. She begged me to come. I thought I'd oblige her, that's all.'

'Liar!' Janna's fists clenched; her whole body flamed white hot with rage. 'I believe this man to be in the employ of Dame Alice's husband, Robert of Babestoche. He has come here under false pretences,' she said. If she couldn't make Robert pay for his crimes, she'd make sure she brought his servant to account.

Mus shot her such a filthy look that it spurred Janna on. 'May I suggest you search his scrip, Master Will,' she said. Her suggestion was not wholly motivated by spite. She was genuinely curious to know the true purpose behind the man servant's attempted rape. She noticed the flash of fear on his face, and her suspicion was confirmed as the bailiff extracted a long, thin cord from the scrip. Janna pictured it circling her neck, strangling tighter and tighter, and shuddered.

'What is this for?' the bailiff asked sternly, dangling the cord in front of Mus.

'It's to catch . . . animals.' The venom in the glance that was directed at Janna left her in no doubt as to which was his animal of choice.

The bailiff looked from Mus to Janna. 'You've had a very lucky escape,' he told her. Janna knew then that he understood Mus's true purpose for being in the shed. She felt a slight easing of tension. The bailiff switched his attention back to Mus. 'I am sending you back, under guard, to your master. He can deal with you.'

'No!' Janna protested, for Robert would surely let Mus go free to come back and try again. She thought quickly. 'Master Will, as I am under the protection of the abbey, should not the abbess be called upon to pass judgment on this matter?'

'You are right.' The bailiff nodded in agreement. 'The abbess must certainly be told what has occurred this day.'

Janna felt cold to her soul. Her whole body began to shake with reaction. But she knew also a great sense of triumph for, whatever happened now, the abbess would not allow Mus to go unpunished, no matter what Robert might say in his defence. After today, the abbess must also understand her own desire for protection. She watched as the bailiff tied Mus's hands together, using the man servant's own strangling cord to do so. Two sturdy villeins marched Mus off in the direction of the abbey. Janna lingered by the shed to watch them go. Great shivers still racked her body. She crossed her arms over her breast and held on tight, fighting for control.

'Janna! Are you all right?' Agnes pushed through the crowd to Janna's side. 'What's happened?'

Janna told her, and felt some relief as she spoke. Putting what had happened into words, exposing the villain's deeds to the daylight, took away some of their horror.

'How did you know what to do to defend yourself?' Agnes's mouth was open in wonder.

'My friend Edwin taught me.' A flood of gratitude washed over Janna as she recalled how the outlaw had insisted she learn to protect herself while she was living disguised as a youth. 'I was hiding in the forest,' she said, and went on to tell Agnes something of how she'd had to flee when her home had been burnt to the ground, and her subsequent meeting with Edwin. 'He showed me what to do,' she said.

'And I thank God and all His angels for it,' Agnes said devoutly. 'Truly He was looking after you today, Janna.'

Or I was looking after myself? But Janna didn't put her thought into words.

'Do you want to go back to the abbey now?' Agnes asked.

'And miss our wonderful dinner and the chance to talk without being bound by the vow of silence?' Janna managed a shaky smile. 'The danger has passed, and I have work to do in the fields.' She took a few steps, then stopped. 'What about you? Do you want to go back?' she called after Agnes.

'No, I don't.' Agnes sounded troubled as she continued, 'But the abbess is right. I cannot, in all conscience, believe that my work here is more important than God's work in the abbey.'

'Surely all work is equally important?' Janna knew how badly Agnes wanted to continue coming out into the fields at harvest time. '
Laborare est orare
, isn't that what you said?'

'To work is to pray. Yes, I know, but this . . .' Agnes threw out a hand to encompass the golden wheat and the chalk downs beyond. 'This feels like an indulgence. The children feel like an indulgence. I so enjoy their company, looking after them, seeing to their hurts, their scraped knees, their small squabbles and rivalry . . .'

'Aren't you allowed to enjoy the work you're doing?' Janna wasn't being mischievous, she was genuinely curious. To her surprise, Agnes's face flushed a guilty red. 'Tomorrow I will stay in the abbey,' she said firmly, and rushed to pick up a toddler who, determined to follow her older sibling into the field, had run too fast and come tumbling down. She was squalling loudly, but Agnes sat down with her in the shade, took her onto her knee and proceeded to tell her a story. The child's cries quietened; she listened intently. And Janna watched them, and wondered if this was the bailiff's youngest, who still cried for her mother in the night.

As it turned out, they were both told to stay in the abbey on the following day. The attack on Janna had caused a great stir. The abbey buzzed like a hive of bees as everyone discussed what had happened, in whispers and out of the corners of their mouths. Janna herself had been interviewed by the prioress, with Sister Grace and Sister Anne in attendance. She'd been required to give a detailed account of what had happened. While she felt some shame as she described how she'd gulled Mus into believing she welcomed his attention, she felt no regret over what she'd done. She knew, only too well, why he'd carried the plaited cord, and she told the nuns that too.

'But why do you think he planned to murder as well as rape you, child?' Sister Anne asked gently.

Janna couldn't answer, for the answer wasn't hers to give. It would mean betraying a secret that went right back to the death of her mother. So she stayed silent.

'You came to the abbey seeking sanctuary. Did you fear something like this might happen?'

'Yes.' This was exactly what Janna had feared. The prioress waited for further explanation, but Janna was unable to provide one.

'Then we must do our best to keep you safe.' The prioress had risen then, indicating that the interview was over. 'Whatever the man's motive, you have no more reason to fear him. We have him locked away and have sent word to his master of his misdeeds.' Janna was about to protest in dismay, but the prioress forestalled her. 'I have ensured that the message goes first to Dame Alice, for she is the man's liege lord and must take responsibility for his actions,' she said. Her words had given Janna some relief. Dame Alice was no fool. She would not allow Robert to be lenient on Mus, not when she realised whom Mus had attacked. Perhaps Hugh would be there too, to lend his weight to the argument? Janna felt great warmth and comfort as she thought of Hugh.

The matter had also been aired at chapter, largely because Sister Martha had complained that the new lay sister had behaved in an unseemly fashion.

'Could you explain what you mean?' the prioress had asked, with barely concealed impatience. Janna had listened, open-mouthed, as the gnat tried to justify her complaint with the observation that, although an attack had been attempted, the attacker had come off worst in the encounter. 'I am not sure what measures our new lay sister adopted to get the better of him,' Sister Martha said virtuously, 'but I wonder that someone with such . . . knowledge . . . should be welcome in our abbey.'

Janna was set to explode with rage, but fortunately the prioress got in first. 'We may all be thankful that our new lay sister was able, so courageously, to defend herself and her
honour
.' She stressed the last word, and paused so that all might ponder its meaning. 'Should you ever find yourself in like situation, Sister Martha, and I pray to God that none of us ever do, you would do well to defend yourself just as vigorously as Sister Johanna has done.' Not giving Sister Martha any further opportunity to complain, she stood up and swept out of the room.

'To keep you safe.' The prioress's words echoed in Janna's mind in the long days that followed. 'To keep you prisoner' was what the words really meant, even if the prioress hadn't exactly intended it to happen that way. Janna was getting used now to living her life by the bells that summoned the sisters to church, and the rules that governed when to eat, to sleep, and to work. She was getting used to the life, but not enjoying it, confined as she was within the abbey walls. Even the usually cheerful Agnes moped about, doing her chores with grim determination coupled with a virtuous expression. Janna knew she hankered to be out of doors with the children, just as she herself yearned for the same freedom.

Whenever they could, the pair volunteered to help care for the garden. There was always digging, weeding or watering of plants to keep them occupied, so that at least some of their time could be spent outdoors. Once outside, Janna continued to instruct Agnes about herbs in the physic garden: their appearance and their various properties, both culinary and medicinal. Sometimes they encountered the infirmarian, picking leaves and flowers or digging roots for medicaments. As she always greeted them and seemed willing to talk and ask questions, Janna took the opportunity to ask questions of her own about those plants she hadn't seen before. Acquiring information and passing on her knowledge to Agnes helped ease the frustration of knowing that she was no nearer to accomplishing her main reason for coming to the abbey: to learn to read and write. She would willingly have put up with everything else if only that seemed within her grasp.