outlaw companion, Edwin, would be there to buy and to sell. Janna hoped, with all her heart, that Edwin had managed to stay hidden from their sight for all this time. He would have help in that from his sweetheart, Bertha, and probably from Hugh too, for Hugh understood Edwin's situation and his need to stay safely out of their sight.
A sudden thought set Janna's heart racing. It was quite possible, nay, even probable, that Hugh, and maybe Godric too, would also attend the fair. Now that the cheating reeve was dead and his horde of purloined goods discovered, there would be an abundance of produce from Hugh's manor farm to sell. The thought made Janna even more determined to seek leave to attend the fair.
She remembered the attempt on her life and felt suddenly cold. She might feel trapped inside the abbey, but its walls kept her safe. Her spirits revived somewhat as she began to rationalise the attack. After what had happened, Dame Alice must surely be keeping a watchful eye over Robert and his servants, while Robert would know by now that she was keeping silent about his role in her mother's death, and therefore was no threat to him. Not yet, at least, Janna amended grimly, knowing that bringing Robert to account for the death of her mother was the main part of her search for her unknown father.
A further thought lifted her spirits. The attack had happened weeks ago. Dame Alice and her husband were probably safely home on their own manor by now. Their steward might attend the fair, to buy and sell on their behalf, but it was most unlikely that they themselves would come.
The day in memory of St Edith's death dawned sunny, as hot and bright as a summer's day. Inside the abbey, all had been made clean and sparkling in honour of their dead patron saint. The church was resplendent, being decorated with flowers and produce as thanksgiving for a harvest safely in and as a benediction to St Edith. Half-asleep as she was, Janna's nostrils were overwhelmed with the scent of the flowers, fruit, nuts, herbs and spices heaped at the altar and around St Edith's shrine in its own small chapel. She took her place at the back of the choir stalls, and peered down the nave, searching for Agnes. She'd hardly had a chance to talk to her friend in the intervening weeks; making up creams and potions for the fair had kept her too busy. The only time they could snatch a few words was when Agnes came for a new supply of ointment, for Janna had taken over its preparation, adding lavender and sunturners to Sister Anne's usual mix in the hope that they might ease the tight scars.
Janna hadn't forgotten her promise to Agnes, but her entreaties to Sister Anne had not met with any success. She determined that, if she was given leave to go to the fair, she would try to ensure that Agnes came too. Meanwhile, she half-listened as the Mass continued. Agnes had taught her all she knew, so Janna could follow some of the chants, but she still did not join in, although she loved to listen to the sound of the nuns' voices and the music they made. She was coming to know them now, and it amused her to watch them sing for she thought their characters could be read in their faces and the language of their bodies.
The sister who leaned forward, almost bouncing on her toes as she threw her heart and soul into glorious song, was just as enthusiastic and whole-hearted over everything else she did about the abbey. The nun who sang with hands folded and mouth pursed small, as if begrudging her time and the use to which it was being put, made sure that her disapproval touched everything to which she set her hand. A large nun sitting in the front row of the choir always opened her mouth just a little too early and finished with an extra trill that kept her singing on after the others were silent. As she had the loudest voice, the disharmony was often painful, just as her insistence on always coming first and being the best caused some heartache and muttering among her
A sudden thought set Janna's heart racing. It was quite possible, nay, even probable, that Hugh, and maybe Godric too, would also attend the fair. Now that the cheating reeve was dead and his horde of purloined goods discovered, there would be an abundance of produce from Hugh's manor farm to sell. The thought made Janna even more determined to seek leave to attend the fair.
She remembered the attempt on her life and felt suddenly cold. She might feel trapped inside the abbey, but its walls kept her safe. Her spirits revived somewhat as she began to rationalise the attack. After what had happened, Dame Alice must surely be keeping a watchful eye over Robert and his servants, while Robert would know by now that she was keeping silent about his role in her mother's death, and therefore was no threat to him. Not yet, at least, Janna amended grimly, knowing that bringing Robert to account for the death of her mother was the main part of her search for her unknown father.
A further thought lifted her spirits. The attack had happened weeks ago. Dame Alice and her husband were probably safely home on their own manor by now. Their steward might attend the fair, to buy and sell on their behalf, but it was most unlikely that they themselves would come.
The day in memory of St Edith's death dawned sunny, as hot and bright as a summer's day. Inside the abbey, all had been made clean and sparkling in honour of their dead patron saint. The church was resplendent, being decorated with flowers and produce as thanksgiving for a harvest safely in and as a benediction to St Edith. Half-asleep as she was, Janna's nostrils were overwhelmed with the scent of the flowers, fruit, nuts, herbs and spices heaped at the altar and around St Edith's shrine in its own small chapel. She took her place at the back of the choir stalls, and peered down the nave, searching for Agnes. She'd hardly had a chance to talk to her friend in the intervening weeks; making up creams and potions for the fair had kept her too busy. The only time they could snatch a few words was when Agnes came for a new supply of ointment, for Janna had taken over its preparation, adding lavender and sunturners to Sister Anne's usual mix in the hope that they might ease the tight scars.
Janna hadn't forgotten her promise to Agnes, but her entreaties to Sister Anne had not met with any success. She determined that, if she was given leave to go to the fair, she would try to ensure that Agnes came too. Meanwhile, she half-listened as the Mass continued. Agnes had taught her all she knew, so Janna could follow some of the chants, but she still did not join in, although she loved to listen to the sound of the nuns' voices and the music they made. She was coming to know them now, and it amused her to watch them sing for she thought their characters could be read in their faces and the language of their bodies.
The sister who leaned forward, almost bouncing on her toes as she threw her heart and soul into glorious song, was just as enthusiastic and whole-hearted over everything else she did about the abbey. The nun who sang with hands folded and mouth pursed small, as if begrudging her time and the use to which it was being put, made sure that her disapproval touched everything to which she set her hand. A large nun sitting in the front row of the choir always opened her mouth just a little too early and finished with an extra trill that kept her singing on after the others were silent. As she had the loudest voice, the disharmony was often painful, just as her insistence on always coming first and being the best caused some heartache and muttering among her
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