Blood Oath: The Janna Chronicles 1 by Felicity Pulman Page B

what she was supposed to do, Janna sent a glance of appeal at Hugh.
    He moved to her side and took her arm. “Johanna has had a bad shock. Small wonder that she’s upset. Why don’t I take her to the kitchen for a hot posset?”
    “But I need to—” Janna cast a glance at her mother’s still form lying on the pallet in the alcove. Before she went anywhere, she wanted to say goodbye and ask her mother for forgiveness. Even more important, she wanted to be sure that her mother’s body would be treated with the respect she deserved.
    “Come.” Hugh’s firm grip shifted Janna from the room, propelling her through the solar and out into the hall. Feeling his grip slacken slightly, Janna jerked free and faced him.
    “If Master Fulk was anywhere near as good as he pretends to be, he could have–”
    “You’ll achieve naught by accusing the apothecary of neglect,” he cut across her protest. “Your mother died a hard death. I doubt anyone could have saved her.”
    “But that—that quack didn’t even try, did he?” Janna steeled herself, knowing she could not rest until she heard the worst.
    Hugh shrugged apologetically. “I know not what happened before I arrived, but I heard that your mother poured scorn on Fulk and his treatments on her return after noon. It seems he insisted that Dame Alice drink an infusion of his own making, but your mother threw it out. They had a fierce argument about it. Of course, as soon as Fulk heard that your mother was taken ill he lost no time in returning to the bedchamber and putting it about that your mother had brought this illness on herself and that she was not to be trusted. He has his good name to salvage, Johanna, you must understand that.”
    Yet Dame Alice had quickly put Fulk in his place when he’d tried to suggest that Eadgyth’s potion might have killed her. Janna took some comfort from that, but knew that she must also use her own persuasion to counteract Fulk’s accusations.
    “My mother was always careful with her mixtures, sire,” she said. “I have never known her make a mistake, not ever. Besides, if the mistake lay in my mother’s potion, it would be Dame Alice lying dead now, not—” Janna swallowed hard, unable to finish her sentence.
    “What you say makes sense. It may be that you speak the truth of the matter.”
    “Then what happened to my mother? She was perfectly well when I last saw her. There must be a reason for…for…”
    “I’m sorry, Johanna, I really don’t know. All I can tell you is what I saw toward the end, after Jeanne, one of my aunt’s tiring women, came in search of Fulk and Robert. I was with Robert at the time and I accompanied him to Alice’s bedchamber, for I am her kinsman and so have great concern for her wellbeing. It is fortunate I was present, for Robert fell into such distress that I thought he might lose his senses altogether. His face blanched of all color; he trembled as if with the ague and I feared he might collapse. We thought his wife was beyond all care, you see. It took some moments before we realized that, in fact, it was your mother who was taken ill. Dame Alice insisted that a groom be sent to fetch you. Robert stayed to reassure and comfort her, while Cecily looked after your mother. She gave her water and washed her clean, but alas, nothing seemed to help.”
    “And Master Fulk? What did he do?”
    “He sent Jeanne to the kitchen for one of his possets. Really, he did his best to help your mother.”
    Janna made a rude noise at the back of her throat, knowing that Fulk’s best wasn’t worth a dirty straw. She looked up at Hugh and struggled to put her suspicions into words. “Did my mother say anything of what ailed her before she died?” she asked, hoping for some sort of clue. She didn’t believe for one moment that Eadgyth had been affected by one of her own mixtures, yet something unexpected had caused her mother to die so quickly and in such distress.
    “Let us ask Cecily. She may have