Joan shook her head vehemently, then stopped abruptly as if she feared this might be counted as jiggling.
'She said my grandchild was asleep in the cradle. I didn't look for I was afeared of waking him. Let sleeping babes lie, my mother always said. And I was that worn out, what with the hay harvest and getting up a dozen times a night to see to the bairn. It's me that's had the care of him; that wicked girl didn't even want to suckle him. She would've left the poor bairn to starve to death if I hadn't been there. I kept telling her —'
Osborn drummed his fingers impatiently. 'So you're saying the baby died of neglect and hunger?'
'No, my lord, no, she murdered him in cold blood. Dashed his brains out, poor little mite. She'd been threatening to do it since afore the baby was born. Said she dreamed of doing it. Now she's gone and done it, killed my poor innocent little grandson. She's a wicked evil murderer, that's what she is. I warned my son about her. I told him she was no good.' Joan sobbed noisily.
For a moment or two Osborn stared at her, a look of disgust on his face as she continued to moan and wail. Several women in the crowd began to weep too, as if their own babes had been snatched from them.
Finally Osborn gestured to Raffaele. 'Fetch the body, Master Raffaele. I've seen enough men, and children too, killed in war to know if she speaks the truth.'
'But there is no body, m'lord,' Raffaele said. 'Joan apparently found the cradle empty. She claims Elena confessed to having murdered her baby, as she'd threatened to do, but we've only Joan's word for that. We've searched the cottage and the toft. There's no sign of a body or of blood come to that.'
'So we only have the word of this villein that any crime has been committed,' Osborn said, pressing his fingers together. 'She wouldn't be the first mother-in-law to quarrel with her son's wife.' He leaned forward, frowning hard at Joan. 'But if you've been wasting my time, woman, making malicious accusations out of spite, I'll make you wish you'd never drawn breath. I'll have you flogged to the bone and -'
Terrified, Joan fell to her knees. 'No, no, my lord. It's the truth, I swear it on the Blessed Virgin's robe. My . . . my son, he'll tell you. He heard her threaten the bairn many times afore he was even born, and he heard her confess to the murder last night.' She swivelled on her knees, pointing at Elena, 'And if she hasn't done away with my grandson, where is he? Tell her to bring him here and prove herself innocent.'
Osborn nodded. 'She may be a garrulous halfwit, but she has a point.' He stared at Elena. 'So where is your baby? Did you kill him, like this woman says?'
Elena's throat was so swollen from pleading and crying half the night that she wasn't sure she could speak.
'I. . . didn't kill him, I swear,' she whispered.
'Speak up, girl,' Osborn barked. 'If you are telling the truth, let's hear it.'
Elena longed for just a sip to drink, but she dared not ask for it. She tried to speak up, but she couldn't seem to make her voice loud enough. Osborn leaned forward impatiently, straining to hear her.
'I was afraid that I would kill my baby ... I kept having these dreams about harming him, Joan's right about that, but I didn't hurt him. I didn't. I tried to protect him, to keep him safe.'
'Then I will ask you again, girl, where is the child? It's a simple enough question. Any fool could understand it, surely. WHERE IS YOUR BABY?' he said with exaggerated clarity, as if he thought she was deaf or stupid or both. 'Just tell us where to find him, then all this will be over and you can return to your sheep or your spinning or whatever it is you do.'
Elena tried to moisten her dry lips with her tongue. 'My lord, I didn't harm him, but I was so afraid I would that I took him to the cunning woman's house near the forest, to Gytha and her mother. Gytha promised to find a wet nurse in another village to take care of him until he is older, then she will bring him back to us when the danger of the dream is past.'