Book Title: The Herb Knot
Series: n/a
Author Name: Jane Loftus
Publication Date: May 8th, 2025
Publisher: HQ Digital
Pages: 336
Genre: Medieval Historical Fiction
Any Triggers: Domestic abuse / violence (not much, but two short depictions), implied sexual assault, attempted murder, actual murder.
Tour Schedule Page: https://thecoffeepotbookclub.blogspot.com/2025/07/blog-tour-the-herb-knot-by-jane-loftus.html
The Herb Knot
By Jane Loftus
Audiobook Narrator: Matt Addis
The Hundred Years' War comes to life in this spellbinding tale of love, betrayal and conspiracy …
A quest born on the battlefield will change a young boy’s destiny…
Rafi Dubois is five years old when his mother is murdered after the Battle of Crecy in 1346. Alone and lost, Rafi is given a token by the dying Englishman who tried to save his mother’s life: a half-broken family seal which he urges Rafi to return one day to Winchester.
Years later, when Rafi saves a wealthy merchant’s wife from a brutal robbery, he is rewarded with the chance to travel to England, taking the seal with him.
But when he reaches Winchester, Rafi finds himself in a turbulent world full of long-held allegiances, secrets and treachery. His path is fraught with danger and with powerful enemies working against him, Rafi falls in love with Edith, a market apothecary. But in doing so, Rafi unleashes a deadly chain of events which threatens to overwhelm them both…
The Herb Knot is a sweeping and passionate novel set in one of the most tumultuous times in English history, from a powerful new voice.
Read an Excerpt
The branches folded over them, crackling like a dog biting on chicken bones. Raphael and his mother wriggled beneath low shrubs and coils of fern. Even in moonlight they would be difficult to see, but it was not the place of safety his mother would have chosen. It was his mistake that had forced them to stop here.
His first mistake.
‘When did you last see Christophe?’ His mother pulled him close.
‘By the big oak.’
‘Tch!’
‘I’m sorry, Maman.’
The big oak was where they’d entered the forest. It was where enemy soldiers roamed, blood-soaked after a day of battle. There would be looting too, and worse. It was why a woman and two children had left a cottage that was no longer safe. And now one of the children was missing.
‘He told me not to wait. He said he’d catch up.’ Raphael’s tears could be heard in his voice. He’d ruined everything. He should never have let go of Christophe’s hand. Now, they had been forced to stop where Christophe might still find them. They should be further towards the heart of the forest, not here.
It was all his fault.
‘Don’t cry, mon petit. He’ll know where we are.’ Raphael’s mother, Marianne, reached for his hand. ‘I should have paid more heed.’
She’d been calling gently as they walked, to make sure the children were still following. Raphael had answered. But he’d spoken only for himself. Christophe had fallen behind long before she’d become aware of it. They were supposed to hold hands, but Christophe had kept stumbling, dragging Raphael down with him. In the end he’d told Raphael to go ahead, that he’d catch up.
I should have waited.
Christophe would surely find his way here. He had Raphael’s precious St Joseph scapular with him. Raphael wore it always, but Christophe had been afraid so Raphael had given it to him. It would guide him here; it had to.
Raphael and his mother lay for a while on their stomachs, the leaves above them gently shedding raindrops from the earlier storm. The damp earth smelled rich and strong and caught the back of Raphael’s throat. His ribs began to hurt and he tried to move, but there were footsteps now. Marianne pressed her fingers to his lips.
The footsteps came faster and louder. A man entered the clearing, his outline bulky as if he were wearing armour. There was a shadow of something in his hand, something that glinted for a brief moment as a dull beam of moonlight caught the edge of it. Raphael felt his mother’s hand tighten on his again.
Who was this man? A mercenary? Genoese? There was more moonlight now but it still wasn’t enough to see for sure.
‘Anglais,’ Marianne whispered.
When Christophe crashed into the clearing like a hunted deer, the mercenary had already begun to walk away. Had Christophe arrived but one minute later, his and Raphael’s lives would have taken different paths. But at the sight of the child, soiled and trembling, the mercenary turned on his heel. He had his arm wrapped around Christophe’s neck in an instant, pulling tight until his feet barely reached the ground. Christophe’s hands pulled at the mercenary’s arm but to no avail. Raphael wanted to cry.
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Jane Loftus gained a degree in 16th Century European and British history from Surrey before taking a postgraduate degree in modern political history. As a lone parent, she worked in Winchester Waterstones before returning to IT once her son was older.
Hugely passionate about the Middle Ages, she drew inspiration for this novel from the medieval layout of Winchester which has been painstakingly documented.
Jane is originally from London but has lived in Winchester for over twenty years. When not writing, she is usually out walking or watching costume dramas on Netflix - the more medieval the better. She also plays far too many rpgs.
Website: https://janeloftus.com/
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