Willows for Weeping by Felicity Pulman Read Free Book Online Page A

said.
    Juliana drew back with a sudden hiss. 'Why do you carry a pagan idol?'
    'It's the Virgin Mary and baby Jesus,' Janna contradicted sharply. She had no way of knowing it was any such thing, but Juliana's ready condemnation annoyed her. She closed her fingers around the small statue and thrust it back into her purse. 'And what did you mean when you said that death was following me?' she demanded. 'Am I going to die?' She hastily donned her under-tunic, then pulled the silky blue gown over her head.
    'We are all going to die. That's what people do.' Juliana turned away. 'Send Winifred to me,' she instructed.
    Janna told herself that Juliana must be senile to say such things, yet she couldn't help feeling uneasy. But it was clear she'd get nothing more out of the old woman and so she hurried off to fetch Winifred, securing the gauzy veil over her hair as she went.
    The search of the packs was over. At Bernard's suggestion, the guard turned his attention to the dead man. Not that Bernard would have left anything incriminating for the guard to find, Janna thought, remembering how thoroughly the pilgrim had searched the body. But she had to admit she couldn't see Bernard covering up something so serious as the theft of the hand of St James. She watched carefully as the guard quickly examined the dead man's pack and scrip, wearing an expression of extreme distaste as he did so. Clearly relieved to be done, he shoved everything back where he'd found it and hastily moved away. Seemingly there was nothing there to interest him.
    Janna wondered what had happened to the packet of parch-ment. Had Bernard secreted it somewhere about his person? Would he show it to the guard? There was no way of finding out for, taking his cue from Juliana and perhaps mindful of the sensibilities of the other women of the party, the guard now banished them all behind the bushy screen to wait while the men of the party were stripped and searched.
    Janna decided to pass the time by fashioning a staff for herself. She began to explore the area, looking for something that might prove suitable.
    'What are you doing?' Winifred bounded up to Janna. 'What are you looking for?'
    Her aggrieved expression relaxed somewhat as Janna explained her mission. She began to hunt about for a long, straight stick for her own use. 'The guard's wasting his time – and ours. He's not going to find the hand among a group of pilgrims, is he?' she commented, as she pressed her foot down on a fallen tree and hauled back on a dead branch until it cracked under the pressure.
    Janna thought of Brutus. 'No, I don't think he'll have any success here.' Abandoning her search among the debris along the river bank, she pulled out her knife and carefully sawed off a length of hawthorn from a living tree.
    'I think it was the dead man who stole the hand.' Winifred stopped to watch as Janna began to trim her new staff, slicing off small twigs and leaves.
    'No, it wasn't.'
    'Even if the guard didn't find it on his body, it could be that the man had an accomplice. Maybe he gave it to someone else for safekeeping before he died?'
    'He didn't take it. He's been dead far longer than it's been missing.'
    'Then the hand will never be found!' Winifred looked sideways at Janna. She seemed to be plucking up courage to say something. 'All those relics in Master Ulf's pack. Do you think they're really what he says they are?' she blurted out.
    Janna laughed. 'I suspect not. But I couldn't say for sure,' she added, wanting to give the rogue the benefit of the doubt.
    'But the hand of St James the apostle? That's real, isn't it?'
    Janna shrugged. 'I was at the abbey when the Empress Matilda visited us and handed it over. There was a special mass said for it. The abbess certainly believes it is a true relic. There wouldn't be all this fuss otherwise.'
    Winifred breathed a small sigh. 'That's all right, then.'
    Janna raised a questioning eyebrow, waiting for her young companion to explain herself. But