Willows for Weeping Read Free Page A

nettles, weeds and the wild seeds from hedgerows were gathered; anything edible to sustain them through the lean and hungry times. She had known hunger and hardship, but not in the abbey. Now, she might have to get used to it all over again.
    Janna's mouth set tight with resolution; she hurried to catch up with the others. Winifred matched her steps, seeming determined to keep her company along the way. Janna looked sidelong at her companion, wondering what Winifred could own that she was so sure would guarantee her a place at Oxeneford – or elsewhere perhaps, for Winifred still hadn't answered Janna's question about her destination. Certes she must know enough to know there would be no place for her at any abbey if she had no dowry to offer in return, so she must have left home with something of substance.
    From the position of the sun, Janna judged they were walking northeast, following a straight track across the downs. The sun was at its zenith now; its rays scorched her face. She wished she wore a broad-brimmed hat like the pilgrims. She wished they might find a shady tree to have a rest, or better yet, find a river. She could almost drink it dry, her throat felt so parched and scratchy. Drops of sweat trickled down her face and dampened her armpits. She was concerned that the precious fabric of her dress would be stained and spoilt. And her new shoes were beginning to hurt. She could feel the soft leather rubbing her heels and pinching her toes. The postulant who had once owned them must have slightly smaller feet than her own. Janna debated taking them off and walking barefoot, as once she used to do. But her year in the abbey had spoilt her. A year of wearing either boots or sandals had softened her feet.
    She decided to persevere for a little while longer. Having caught up with the group, she slowed down, letting Winifred walk ahead while she dropped back to keep company with Juliana. Master Bernard's mother appeared to be walking with some difficulty. Janna had observed such a gait before, and knew it was caused by a stiffness of the hips that would become progressively more crippling. But the woman applied her long staff with vigour, using it to support her weight. It seemed a handy aid, and Janna decided to take time out at the next clump of bushes to cut a staff of her own.
    'God be with you, ma dame,' she observed, as the woman neared. 'My name is Johanna, but I am called Janna by all who know me.' She spoke now in the Norman French her mother had taught her, for this was the tongue she'd used when first she'd introduced herself to Bernard, their leader.
    'I am Juliana.' The woman surveyed Janna, taking good note of her appearance. 'Those shoes will never take you all the way to Oxeneford,' she observed.
    'But I go only to the abbey at Ambresberie.'
    'Just as well.' Juliana turned her nose up and gave the air a contemptuous sniff. 'A highborn lady travelling with no mount, and only the clothes you stand up in,' she muttered. 'Why keep company with us? Surely you have your own servants to escort you?'
    Janna felt a wry amusement that her clothes had so deceived the pilgrim band. 'No, ma dame, I have no servants,' she answered. 'And I value your company for otherwise I should have to make the journey alone.'
    The old woman gave her a sidelong glance. 'Hmmph,' she sniffed.
    'You have come a long way,' Janna observed. 'Was the journey very hard?'
    Juliana was silent. Janna wondered if she hadn't heard the question. Unless she'd done something to offend Juliana, for the old woman's wrinkled face had clamped into a wary suspicion that left no room for friendliness. Janna was about to walk on her way when Juliana said, 'We've been gone many moons, 'tis true, journeying by both land and sea. A merchant ship took us to the shores of Galicia and from there we walked the Camino, following the path of stars with other pilgrims.'
    'The path of stars?'
    Juliana pointed the tip of her staff up towards the bright sunlight.