Devilʼs Brew: The Janna Chronicles 5 Read Online Free Page B

Janna’s attention, and she leaned closer to listen to the muttered conversation taking place at a table nearby.
    “…and when the Empress Matilda summoned him, Bishop Henry told the messenger that he’d get himself ready. But it seems that he’s fled from the city instead. And the earl is at the castle, waiting – although I know not how long his patience will last.” The speaker was a tall, well-set man with a shock of brown hair and a florid complexion. Janna thought he must be a merchant, for he was better dressed than his companions and seemed to be paying for the ale they drank.
    “But the bishop’s brother, the king, is still imprisoned, and the bishop has now sworn allegiance to the empress. Why, then, has he fled?” asked a young lad.
    The merchant shrugged. “The bishop was ever a devious man. Could be he’s with the garrison at his palace at Wolvesey, preparing for war in case it comes to that.”
    “I heard he was holed up in the keep of the old palace, awaiting orders from the pope,” said one of the merchant’s companions.
    “He may be waiting for the queen’s troops to arrive. I heard she’s recruited as many as a thousand strong under the command of that Fleming, William of Ypres!” said someone else.
    “Murdering bastard!” The merchant gave a chesty cough, cleared his throat and spat into the rushes. “I’m told they’re already on the march. The empress needs to get the bishop on side before they arrive, or this could get right out of hand.” He looked around the crowded table. “Winchestre may have spoken for Matilda, but Stephen’s queen won’t let it rest, not while her husband is kept in prison. And neither will the Londoners. They can’t abide the empress, with her high-handed ways. They want King Stephen back on the throne.”
    “But if they go to battle now, what of the fair?”
    “Never mind the fair. What about us?”
    The merchant’s mouth tightened. “Best to pray for peace, for we’ll all be ruined if there’s trouble now. Whatever happens between the king and the empress, we’re the ones who’ll pay the price.” He glanced around the crowded tavern. Janna immediately bent her head and pretended she was taking no notice of what was being said. The man seemed to know what he was talking about, and she was keen to hear more.
    “Look what’s happened up north!” he continued. “Barons changing sides according to who can promise them the most. They’re so desperate for land and wealth they care not that towns and villages are being burned and crops and animals destroyed as a result of their greed. There’s nothing but ruin and devastation, and the people are starving. And it’ll happen here too, unless someone puts an end to this madness!” The merchant took a long swallow of ale. “Pray that the Fleming doesn’t come, nor his troops with him,” he continued angrily. “They’ll burn your homes and rape and kill your wives and daughters. If they think you have some worth, they’ll take you hostage – for a fee. Otherwise they’ll kill you too.” He surveyed his companions with a somber expression. “The question is, should we take our chances here, or flee Winchestre now, before it’s too late?”
    “You worry too much, Master Alan!” A young woman paused beside them to top up their mugs of ale. She had a pert and pretty face framed by a cascade of golden locks, which her veil did little to conceal or contain. Janna had noticed her on other visits to the tavern; her task was to serve ale to the patrons, although she seemed to spend most of her time flirting with them. “With all them soldiers around, I ain’t going nowhere!” She wound a sinuous arm around the merchant’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “But I’d save myself for you, darlin’, if you but said the word.”
    His black mood seemingly forgotten, Alan laughed and pulled her down onto his knee. “And what word would that be?”
    “Ah, you know what I mean!” And she