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

Winifred began to pace restlessly among the trees as if anxious to be gone.
    The sun was slanting across the downs from a reddening sky, their figures casting long shadows by the time the guard had finished his search. As Janna had suspected, no unat-tached hand had come to light. Nothing had been achieved in a wasted afternoon, save that the guard had undertaken to lead the horse and its dead rider back to Wiltune and instigate a search as to the man's identity, so that his family might be notified and the body decently buried. Master Bernard thanked him heartily for the offer, obviously relieved to hand over the duty and burden of care.
    But the guard had not quite finished with them. It seemed that what he couldn't achieve with threats he would now try to achieve with bribery. 'I am bound by the abbess to tell you that there is a reward for the safe return of this sacred relic,' he called out, attracting the attention of the pilgrims who were now scattered about, repacking their belongings and chattering among themselves. The word 'reward' galvanised them all. They immediately quietened and came closer to hear what the abbess had in mind.
    Janna, too, listened with curiosity. Abbess Hawise was notoriously mean and penny-pinching. The guard's offer, probably deliberately withheld until now, spoke tellingly of the measure of her desperation.
    'A shilling to anyone with information about the identity of the thief. And a pound to whoever returns the hand of St James to the abbey.'
    A pound of silver! It was a fortune such as anyone might desire. Janna glanced at Brutus and then at Ulf, who seemed as unconcerned as ever. But he could hardly claim a reward if his dog had already eaten the sacred relic!
    The guard stared hard at them all, waiting for someone to break, to tell him what he needed to know. Yet everyone was silent. If any of the pilgrims had knowledge of the missing relic it seemed they were not prepared to share it. Instead, they looked at each other with calculating eyes and quickly looked away again if someone met their gaze. The theft of the hand and the promise of a reward for its return had brought suspicion and greed into hearts that, after a pilgrimage to the tomb of St James, should have been full of friendship and free from care.
    The guard watched them all with a hopeful expression, sure that someone would be tempted to speak. But nobody did. Finally, with a shrug of resignation, he remounted. Leading the straying horse and its burden beside him, he slowly clip-clopped away in the direction of Wiltune.
    With the guard gone, Bernard clapped his hands to attract everyone's attention.
    'We've had the chance to rest for most of this afternoon, so I suggest we make the most of the long twilight. There's maybe time to walk a mile or two before finding somewhere to spend the night.' He looked about the pilgrim band to see if there were any dissenters. Janna sensed his impatience to push on, and understood what drove him. It seemed that he was still in possession of the bishop's message then. She wondered if he'd managed to keep it hidden from the guard. Or had the guard seen it but agreed to let him complete his mission to deliver the message safely into the hands of the empress herself?
    'Are you in agreement? What do you say?' Bernard asked.
    There were a few murmurs of assent and one or two grumbles before they all bent to pick up their packs once more. Janna noticed Juliana shoulder her burden and limp off behind Bernard. She hesitated a moment, then picked up her shoes and hurried after her.
    'Look,' she said, hoping to flatter the old woman into explaining her odd prediction. 'I have a staff of my own now, just like yours. It's such a help with walking, isn't it?'
    Juliana looked from her own fine walking stick to Janna's roughly hewn branch. She gave a grunt, but made no comment.
    Janna sighed, and tried again to win Juliana around. 'Let me carry your pack for you,' she offered. 'I am younger than you, and