Willows for Weeping Read Free

completed,' Janna told Ulf, repeating what Sister Anne had once told her. 'With all the unrest in the country, the empress feared for the relic's safety – that's why she brought the hand to Wiltune.'
    'And I was awestruck at the sight of it,' said Ulf, patting his pack again. 'But I warrant I have other relics that will astound and amaze you.'
    'Yet you're prepared to part with them – at a price?'
    Ulf had the grace to look slightly abashed. 'An offering! They're not for sale,' he protested, adding, 'and I will suffer sorely to see 'em go.'
    'I have no coin to make an offering, but I would love to see them,' Winifred said eagerly. 'Where did you come by such wonders?'
    'Oh, here and there, from pilgrims and from . . . er . . . merchants.' Ulf reddened as he noticed the twinkle in Janna's eye. 'They're all real, absolutely genuine!' he blustered.
    'We'll look at them later, when we stop for a rest.' Janna meant to keep her promise. Even though she didn't believe one word of it, Ulf seemed a likeable rogue and she was interested to see what outlandish objects he might produce.
    She surveyed the group that walked ahead, strangers now but in time she would come to know them. As well as those to whom she'd already spoken, there were Morcar and his wife, Golde. Janna wasn't sure if that was her real name or just a description of her reddish-gold hair. She was somewhat younger than her portly husband, closer in age to Janna and Winifred than the rest of the group, although she'd adopted the staid, rather matronly air of the comfortably married. There was also Adam, who seemed to wear a permanent scowl, especially when he brushed up against Bernard. They were talking together now, and although Bernard had his hand on the pilgrim's shoulder, everything about Adam shouted that this show of friendship was entirely unwelcome. Janna wondered what had happened to cause his hostility, but then reflected that perhaps Adam behaved this way with everyone. It seemed that his voyage to the shrine of St James had done little to improve his disposition. Or perhaps he was of a naturally solitary disposition and the long journey in close proximity with others had proved too abrasive and wearying?
    Janna studied them all carefully. They were a disparate group. Bernard and Morcar were in their middle-age, while Adam looked somewhat older, as did Ulf. Juliana, Bernard's mother, was by far the oldest and the slowest, but they matched their pace to hers, never walking too far ahead. The fact that they could afford to go on a pilgrimage and that they were fluent in Norman French suggested they came from a higher level of society than Winifred, although they were dressed in plain, serviceable garments suitable for a hard life on the road. Where had they slept along the way? What had they eaten? More important: where would Janna sleep and what would she eat along this journey?
    She touched the purse concealed beneath the fabric of her gown, which contained information salvaged from the burnt wreckage of her home, as well as Emma's generous reward for the part Janna had played in saving her betrothed from the gallows. Janna now had coins enough to pay her way and was grateful for it. The pilgrims had stayed at the guest hall at Wiltune Abbey and she knew they would have made a donation for the privilege. Even though they might try to beg shelter and food along their journey, chances were they would have to pay for it, as would she. Janna hoped to find out soon. The thought of the nuns at their dinner had set her stomach rumbling with hunger.
    She gave a rueful smile as she recalled the hardship of her early life with her mother, when everything they grew was either eaten or traded, along with her mother's potions and her skill in healing. Even so, they'd often been forced to roam the forest, risking discovery from the king's forester while they hunted for nuts, berries and mushrooms, and the eggs from birds' nests. Small creatures were trapped and even