Blood Oath: The Janna Chronicles 1 Read Online Free PDF Page B

kiss on the hand?”
    Janna’s face flamed scarlet. Godric grinned at her. “We shall meet again, Janna, and soon,” he promised, and padded off into the night.

Chapter 3
    The cottage seemed too quiet after Godric had gone. Janna stared into the golden heart of the fire, reflecting on his words. Did the villagers really fear them, fear Alfred? She set the cat down, then collapsed onto a stool, for her legs were trembling and weak. She still felt shaken after her encounter with the boar, but her encounter with Godric had left her even more unnerved. There was no doubt as to his intentions, but what did she really owe him for his deed this night? Was she willing to pay with her heart, her body, her life and loyalty?
    Alfred nudged her hand, his intention plain. Janna bent to stroke him and he purred loudly. She smiled down at him, remembering how, so many months ago, she’d found him struggling in the river, along with the rest of the litter that had been thrown in to drown. She had tried to save them all. This was the only kitten to survive, so she’d decided to call him Alfred after the great king who had never given up, who had continued to fight the Danes until he’d succeeded in driving them out of Wessex.
    Patiently she had set out to befriend the cat, and tame him. Step by step, Alfred had allowed Janna to touch him, to stroke his fur, to pick him up for a cuddle. Shut in on the long winter evenings, he had finally come to Janna in the midnight hours, when the fire had died down and the cottage was cold. Together and warm, they had slept through the night, and for many nights thereafter.
    She picked him up and stood to place him on the straw pallet where she and Eadgyth slept. Next, she unfastened her girdle of plaited fibres and laid the purse of strawberries upon the table. They had cost her dear—how dear she could not tell her mother, for she knew the questions that would follow if she spoke of her encounter with Godric. She would not answer to her mother, or to Godric, until she knew the truth of her own heart, she decided.
    She removed the long, gray, coarsely woven kirtle that covered her under-tunic and lay down beside the cat. She shivered, and pulled an old moth-eaten fur coverlet over her body, snuggling into its folds for warmth and comfort. The black cat curled up beside her, purring loudly. She raised a hand to stroke his glossy fur, then gave a sudden snort of laughter as she recalled Godric’s warning. Could the villagers truly believe that Alfred was the devil? How could they be so ignorant, so superstitious! She longed to be free of them all, free to follow her destiny. What fun it would be to take to the road and have adventures, maybe even go as far as royal Winchestre. She could find work along the way. It wouldn’t matter what she did, so long as she could earn her keep. And if she worked hard, perhaps she might become a somebody instead of a nobody. She might meet a handsome nobleman…or perhaps the king himself…
    Janna’s hand stilled upon the cat’s soft fur. There was a half-smile upon her face as daydreams dissolved into the phantasmagoria of sleep.
    *
    The cottage was empty when she awoke. She sat up, feeling a moment’s alarm until she realized that her mother must still be with Dame Alice. It meant things must be going badly for, with an important visitor to see this morning, her mother would surely have returned by now. Unless she and Fulk were busy making plans for their new partnership? Janna scowled at the thought, but it was followed quickly by another, more interesting idea. If Eadgyth spent most of her days in Wiltune looking after Fulk’s patients, wouldn’t that give her, Janna, more freedom to look after the villagers here on her own?
    Janna was excited by the prospect. She began to regret her hasty exit the night before.
    Alfred was waiting by the door. She jumped up to let him out, then followed him outside to peer across the green downs in the direction of