No Law in the Land: (Knights Templar 27) (32 page)

‘You waited about here, by your admission, for some days, when you could have been hurrying to your ship? When, as you say,
you feared that by remaining here you would be throwing yourself in increased danger?’

‘I am very public-spirited.’

Baldwin looked at him. ‘I don’t have time for this right now, but, friend, I will be speaking to you later. Who is this?’

Mark was still crouched at the side of Wattere in the midst of the ruin and savagery, and he looked up to see the woman at
the gate. ‘She is the wife of the reeve who was murdered, Sir Baldwin,’ he said. He had dipped the hem of his robe in a horse
trough, and was wiping Wattere’s face with it. ‘She is no threat to you,’ he added sarcastically.

‘Mistress, I am sorry about your loss,’ Baldwin said.

Agnes was walking like a woman in a dream. ‘Where is he?’ she asked.

It was a strange dreamlike experience, being here in the courtyard with bodies lying nearby. She found her toe striking something
that rolled, and looking down saw a man’s head, the eyes wide in surprise
as they contemplated her, but there was no body beneath it. She carried on walking to where the young woman was sobbing, cradled
in the arms of a much older man. At their feet was a young fellow, who rocked back and forth on his knees, wailing quietly,
while blood trickled from between the fingers covering his face. Nearby there lay another man, who had a massive wound in
his breast that was still slowly oozing blood on to the floor. There was no rage in his face, though, only surprise and a
kind of wistfulness.

‘Is he the one?’ she asked.

Simon saw her, and although he could not relinquish his daughter, he nodded. ‘It’s Sir Robert, the man who owned this castle.
I think he was the man who ruled those who killed your husband, Agnes. I am sorry.’

‘I am avenged,’ she said quietly, and then spat on the dead man’s face. ‘That is for my husband, a good man, a good father,
and a good reeve.’

She turned on her heel, and was about to walk away from that hideous area, but the other woman’s misery called her back, and
she went to her and put her own arms about her, looking at Simon as she did so. ‘Let me take her out of here,’ she said, and
led Edith out of the courtyard, Simon following.

‘Simon,’ Baldwin said as Simon drew level with him. ‘I couldn’t let my sword go. You do understand that, don’t you? If I’d
dropped my sword, they could have overwhelmed us in a moment, and it’d be us who were lying in the dirt instead of them. You
understand that, don’t you?’

Simon looked at him, and Baldwin was shocked to see the resentment that burned in his eyes. ‘Tell me, Baldwin. If that had
been your little Richalda, and I had refused to drop my sword, what would you have done then?’

Baldwin was silent for only a moment, but then he shook his head. ‘I would have agreed with you, Simon. It is impossible to
surrender your weapons to men such as these.’

‘You think so? Or would your friendship have turned to hatred and loathing, Baldwin?’

Tavistock Abbey

In the cloisters, Brother Robert Busse was strolling thoughtfully when he heard his voice called.

Behind him, angrily stalking towards him, his black robes flying so great was his speed, came Brother John de Courtenay.

‘I suppose you think you are mighty clever!’ Brother John hissed.

‘Brother, I think nothing of the sort. However, I have done all I think I need to do to protect myself.’

‘Pah! Protect my arse! You think you’ll be safe from my fellows? You forget who you’re talking to, churl!’

‘Brother John, please, let us be calm.’

‘Calm? I’ve just spent an hour or more in the company of the precious cretin from the pope. You know what he said to me?’

‘He accused you of plotting my murder, I suppose.’

‘Yes … You gave him my notes?’

‘They were found on the messenger, and opened before it was realised quite what they were.’

‘I will not tolerate this, Robert. My family is the most important in the shire, and I swear, I’ll have the post here whether
you’ll accept me or not, you understand? If you stand in my way, I’ll—’

‘Kill me? Oh, Brother John,’ Robert said. ‘If you do that now, you will never have this abbey. You don’t understand? We are
both in the same position, my friend. If I take any more money or try to do anything else to win the seat, I will be barred
from it.’

‘Good!’

‘And conversely, if I die, for whatever reason, whether it be a sudden apoplexy or an accidental fall down the night stairs
to the choir, my friend, you will also never win the seat. We are both blocked.’

‘Ballocks!’

‘Quite. Yes, I think I can agree with that sentiment. For now,
Brother, I think that we must resort to the expedient of merely accepting whatever fate throws at us.’

Brother Robert watched as the furious Brother John kicked at a stone on the ground, and then made off towards the calefactory.

It was a pleasant thought that the other monk was as bitter and resentful as he himself, he reflected.

Bow

As soon as they arrived in the town, Baldwin sent Mark to seek out the reeve.

‘But I don’t know where he will be!’

‘Nor do I – but you can be sure that he will either be in the tavern or over in the market somewhere. Go and find him. Tell
him we have these men and needs must have them held securely somewhere. Do you go! Now!’

It took the monk little time to find the reeve, and in a short while the men were all held in the gaol, which was by no means
large enough to accommodate them all, but there being nowhere else for them to be placed, Baldwin advised them to make the
best of their situation. He was more concerned about his old friend Simon.

Simon would not look at him, but instead spent his time with his arm about Edith’s shoulder, his whole attention fixed upon
her. Even when Baldwin quietly called his name, Simon did not respond.

There were several men who had been wounded, not only Basil. Most of the others were suffering from the fire or from the terrified
horses, rather than from the weapons of Simon or Sir Richard.

The boys sent to look after the horses, whom they had seen as they rode hell-for-leather to the castle, had all clearly taken
the view that they would be better served by making themselves scarce than by waiting, and Baldwin had a shrewd idea that
the animals would be discovered in one of the many horse-trading markets about Exeter before long. The boys would be long
gone, though, and he was not overly worried about them. With luck, some of them might discover a talent for avoiding crime
in future. But when he mentioned them to Sir Richard, he had another interest.

‘Not bothered about those little scrotes. It was the other bastard with the face like an axe had gone through it that worried
me. Where did he get to?’

Baldwin suddenly recalled the one-eyed man who had been holding on to Wattere as they arrived. ‘I didn’t see him.’

‘No, nor I, but I had me hands a little full with those other arses. Still, it’d be a shame if the knight’s sergeant escaped
us.’

Baldwin agreed. He bellowed to a lone watchman, who stood looking confused at the door, and told him to see if he could organise
a posse to go and track down the one-eyed man.

They were sitting now in an inn that lay at the southern side of the road, a strange little building on top of steps that
had been carved from the hillside, which was here steep. For all that the accommodation was peculiar, it was a comfortable
chamber, with a cheery fire roaring in the hearth in the middle of the floor, and an amiable young wench to serve them, while
her father, the host, held a wary eye on them to ensure that his little strumpet was not harmed by this sudden infusion of
strangers. For Baldwin’s part, he was alarmed to see that his own servant was demonstrating his old amorous skills with the
girl. He resolved to speak with Edgar later and remind him of his wife back home at Furnshill.

For now, though, as trenchers were brought to them filled with slices of good bacon and some thickened pease pudding, Baldwin
was happy to eat and not remonstrate. He noticed the wandering sailor as he ate, though, and soon beckoned the man across.

Looking Roger all over, he nodded. ‘So you assuredly are a sailor. I’ve only ever seen such rough hands on men who spend their
lives hauling ropes.’

‘I am. Although I confess I haven’t always been one. In the past I was a fighter. But the French put an end to all that.’

‘You were there when they invaded?’

‘Yes. I was in a little town there.’

‘Which?’

‘Have you heard of a place called Montpezat?’

Baldwin considered. ‘It was the town held against the French last year, was it not?’

‘Yes. And when they took it, they razed it to the ground. It was all over that little bastide at Saint-Sardos.’

Brother Mark frowned. ‘What happened there? I never understood.’

Baldwin explained. ‘The Abbot of Sarlat in France wanted to build his new little town, because he knew it would make him money,
but
also because he knew it would embarrass our king. Although Sarlat was in France, Saint-Sardos is in English territory. But
the abbot claimed that any territory owned by his abbey, because his abbey was in France, could be viewed as privileged. In
other words, if he had a daughter house of his abbey or some manors within English jurisdiction, he thought he should be able
to build fortress towns there. So he decided with Saint-Sardos, even though the seneschal of Guyenne had said already that
such construction was illegal. When the abbot went ahead and began building, Raymond Bernard of Montpezat and Ralph Basset
the seneschal went to stop the works. Tempers grew heated, and the French official in charge at the site was hanged from his
own flagpole where he’d been flying the French flag. That is why we went to war with France.’

‘And it’s why all the French lands have been taken,’ Roger finished. ‘The French overran the duchy when Raymond and Ralph
refused to surrender to French justice, and utterly destroyed Montpezat. I was lucky to escape with my life.’

‘And you came back to England,’ Baldwin said.

‘Where else would I go? I thought that the best thing to do was to return here and find employment. But that failed, so I
thought to find work on ships, and I’ve been working on them for some little while. I was raised near Brixham, and much of
my childhood was spent on the water, so it was no hardship to turn to sailing again. But there are few places on ships for
a man like me. And although I’ve been up to Barnstaple and all over the north and south, I’ve found no work. It is hard.’

‘Why are you still about here?’ Sir Richard said.

‘I told you. I saw a man killed. It was the one-eyed man and that young cub you captured up there when your friend’s daughter
stabbed his eye.’

Simon was at a nearby bench with Edith, and he shot a look at them as Roger spoke. Baldwin saw his look, but did not allow
Simon’s anger to distract him. ‘So you say you saw one murder, but did not report it or go to escape – instead you remained
up here and discovered for yourself where the men came from. Why?’

‘Because if I could show who the men were who’d killed, I thought they might be captured.’

‘There is much here, my friend, that you aren’t tellin’ us,’ the
coroner grunted. He rested his elbows on the table and studied Roger fixedly.

‘Sir, I do not know how I might convince you,’ Roger said.

‘Begin by telling the truth,’ Baldwin said flatly.

Roger sucked his teeth. The man before him had dark, intense eyes, with the look of someone who had seen enough of the world,
perhaps, to understand the strange gusts and currents that could drive a man on to the shoals of ruin. That was how he viewed
his own life, certainly. He had known fabulous wealth for some months, but they had been followed by disaster and the anguish
of ignominy and humiliation. He had drunk the bitter dregs of existence, and although he had returned here to England, yet
there seemed little respite. Every opportunity he had attempted, he had failed. No seaman would allow him on his vessel, no
peasant would accept his assistance, no lord his service. His life was already at its lowest ebb.

He took a deep breath. ‘While in France, after Montpezat, I became a wanderer. It was dangerous to be English and alone.’

‘Yes, I can imagine that,’ Sir Richard said. ‘What of it?’

Baldwin put a restraining hand on his arm as Roger continued.

‘I joined a gang of men who had been with Raymond. We escaped before the castle was surrounded, and made off, living from
the land as we might.’

Sir Richard and Baldwin said nothing. They had both been involved in warfare. Both knew to what he alluded: the inevitable
concomitant of warfare was living off the land, which meant killing and robbing the local peasantry. Some wandering bands
of mercenaries made a lot of money, occasionally winning small castles for themselves.

‘I did not enjoy that life.’

Roger was silent for a short while. It was not easy to explain his feelings. ‘Sirs, I was used to ships, as I said. The life
of the sea is hard, but at least a man can feel free. While I was in France, I found a little dog that was being played with
by some lads. They were tying sticks to her tail and beating her to make her run, dragging these sticks behind her. And …’

Unaccountably, his eyes began to well with the memory of that little bitch. A white mutt, with only a short tail, but when
she was happy, a man could look into her eyes and see only love and joy. How anyone could hurt such a lovely little beast,
he didn’t understand.

‘I saved her, and when I came back here to England, I brought her with me.’

Coroner Richard grunted and shifted on his seat. ‘When you get to the point, let me know,’ he muttered.

‘Sir, I will be brief. I made friends with that little dog in France. She came home here with me, and I gave her to a man
for a good home. Or so I thought. He was a priest who was going to be leaving the area shortly, he said. I gave her to him
because I thought, when all was said and done, that a life on ship was no life for a dog unused to it. Especially a little
dog who had just had puppies. She stopped when I was at Tavistock and had a small litter. Only one survived. He and his mother
I gave to Brother Anselm, from Tavistock Abbey.’

His tale had attracted even Simon’s attention. He was still with Edith, but Baldwin was glad to see that he was now listening.
‘That was the man travelling with the abbey’s money for the king,’ Simon called. ‘Cardinal de Fargis had the two men: his
servant, Peter … no, Pietro de Torrino, and Brother Anselm. They were in the group that was slaughtered.’

‘Yes. That is the man. I heard that Pietro de Torrino and Brother Anselm were to be with the group that was going to London.
But Brother Anselm was not with the men when they were killed,’ Roger said, and now his voice had subtly altered.

Baldwin, looking at him, was struck by the way he had changed. His eyes were more fixed, his gaze unwavering. Even his breathing
seemed to have slowed. It was like watching a man who was suddenly calmed after a long exertion. ‘What are you saying? You
saw the men in the woods that day?’

‘I found them early in the morning,’ Roger admitted.

‘Do you say that you found all those dead fellows and did not report them?’ Coroner Richard demanded, aghast. He gaped, forgetting
even to bellow for more wine. The idea that a man would not perform this most simple of duties when such a mass killing had
been committed was utterly beyond his understanding.

To Baldwin, Sir Richard’s shock was endearing. At a time when most coroners knew full well that almost every murder went intentionally
undiscovered, because to report one would immediately incur a fine to ensure that the first finder would attend court to give
evidence, it was pleasing to find one man who could still be appalled by someone who confessed to such an action.

Roger was unrepentant. ‘Yes. I came across those poor devils early that morning. I didn’t see the attack, but I found the
bodies shortly afterwards. And I found the poor monk, Pietro. They made him suffer before they killed him. Why? They killed
all the people with him too, even the children. Well – I suppose that was necessary, because they wanted no witnesses. But
they killed my little bitch, and her pup. And there was no need for that.’

He snorted, shook his head, and then leaned back. ‘So no, Coroner, I didn’t wait. I left. Because I thought that if any stranger
to the area was found within ten leagues of the murders, he’d be considered the obvious suspect, and if anyone heard that
I knew Brother Anselm, it might be thought that I was an accomplice to the killers.’

‘Why would anyone think you an accomplice?’ Baldwin asked.

‘Sir Baldwin, in Tavistock everyone was talking about the great sum being sent to the king, the paucity of the guards, the
huge prize for the man who was prepared to risk his life, and the marvellous riches a man could expect after winning it. As
soon as I was discovered there, and a representative of the abbey arrived to investigate the theft, they would learn that
I had been to Tavistock. What hope for me then? It would mean gaol immediately, and as a foreigner to the area, I would be
sure to be found guilty.’