The Death Ship of Dartmouth: (Knights Templar 21) (32 page)

‘I am sure he will attempt no such thing. He had already confessed this offence to me, and I would not have him believe that I would betray that trust by having another arrest and punish him.’

‘Hmm. You have a curious attitude for a man who is supposed to be maintaining the law. Justice demands that a man who admits to guilt should be punished.’

‘Perhaps. And now I would like to ask you what
you
are doing here.’

‘Me? I am here to find a rapist.’

‘What is his name?’

‘Pierre de Caen. He is a very dangerous man, Sir Baldwin. He raped a lady in Queen Isabella’s household. Can you imagine such effrontery? To actually violate a
woman in the Queen’s entourage! And then he hurried here to escape the justice that pursues him. But perhaps you think that he too should go free?’

‘A rapist?’ Baldwin refused to rise to the bait. ‘Whom did he attack?’

‘I do not think that she would like her name to be bruited about. It will be enough to catch him and take him back to the household where she rests, so that she can see him punished for his crime.’

‘If you wish to arrest him here, you will need to give me more evidence than the word of a lady whom you refuse to name,’ Baldwin said with quiet conviction.

‘I think I may arrest him whether you wish it or not,’ Sir Andrew said with a broad smile.

Baldwin studied him. ‘Have you heard of the attack on a ship? Just recently, a great cog, the
Saint John
, was attacked at sea and her crew taken, the vessel burned.’

‘Should I know of this?’

‘You would if you had seen anything of the attack.’

‘But of course,’ Sir Andrew said. Now he yawned and looked about him. ‘This is most fascinating, Sir Baldwin, but I fear I should leave you and get on with my work. It was good of you to advise me that the scruffy fellow has been released from gaol. I shall have to keep an eye open for him.’

‘I will not have you walking about the town taking whomsoever you wish,’ Baldwin said. ‘If you have evidence against a man, let me know, or the Bailiff here.’

‘You are most kind to offer your help,’ Sir Andrew said with a short bow.

‘Perhaps you would like to explain what you were doing,
seeking the Frenchman on the
Saint Denis
in the haven?’ Baldwin continued.

‘I do not think I need trouble you with this matter any further,’ Sir Andrew smiled.

‘Then your men shall remain in the gaol until you decide to explain,’ Baldwin said blandly, picking his tone of voice carefully. There was no threat in it, only a flat certainty.

‘What men, Sir Knight?’

‘Those whom you sent to take the cog this day. They are all in custody and shall remain there until I hear a satisfactory explanation of their behaviour.’

Sir Andrew’s manner stiffened noticeably. ‘Those men are mine. I wish them released immediately.’

‘And
I
wish to know what they were doing on the
Saint Denis
.’

‘That is my business, not yours,’ Sir Andrew said, with steel in his tone.

‘You have no authority in this town.’

‘Do I not?’ Sir Andrew considered Baldwin for a long moment, and then he pulled a parchment from inside his cote-hardie. He opened it and passed it to the knight. ‘Here is my authority, Keeper. Do you agree I have the power to stop ships and arrest any whom I suspect?’

Baldwin read with a frown, holding the writing near to his nose and up to the light as he made sense of it. ‘It would seem so.’

‘Then you will please leave me alone while I continue to carry out the wishes of our King?’

‘I will be happy to leave you alone. In the meantime, your men caused an affray on the cog in this haven. This order
does not exempt your men from penalty of law when they break the King’s Peace here in Dartmouth. They will be held until I deem that they pose no more threat to the peace of this town.’

‘You will release them now!’ Sir Andrew snarled. He took a half-step forward as though to attack Baldwin, but when the older knight stood his ground, he hissed: ‘This will be brought to the attention of Lord Hugh Despenser! I shall personally demand your punishment, Keeper.’

Baldwin shrugged, but felt anger rising in his breast. Here he was, despite all his best intentions, thrown headlong into a dispute with a man who was a loyal supporter of Despenser.

‘Rural knights like you are more danger to the work of the realm than all the outlaws in the land,’ Sir Andrew said with cold certainty. ‘We try to keep the country working, and it is men like you – old men – who prevent us. England is in danger, and you would have us ignore it because it upsets your sensibilities.’

‘What is the danger from a rapist?’ Simon interrupted sneeringly. ‘There is more danger from arrogant fools who throw whole towns into disarray by attacking their ancient rights and privileges. Trying to take a British ship by force was lunacy! You killed one man and wounded several more – to catch a rapist, you say? Well,
I
say you are unconvincing, sir. And until I hear the truth, I will certainly not sanction the release of any of your men.’

‘That parchment allows me to demand—’

‘You can demand all you want,’ Baldwin said firmly. ‘I would never willingly thwart the King’s wishes, but my duty
is to the King’s Peace, and I will
not
see you pointlessly discard all semblance of peace here without an explanation.’

‘I, Sir Richard de Welles, Coroner, witness these two statements and I have to say, Sir Andrew, that I find their arguments convincing. If you cannot bring forth evidence that compels them to release your men, why the hell should they? At present I have six or more bodies being brought ashore as a result of your escapade on the cog today. These same men, I assume, took the
Saint John
and killed all the crew. Why, in God’s holy name, do you expect these honourable officers to allow those same men to be free to attack more shipping?’

Sir Andrew drew his lips up into a dry smile. He glanced from one to another, and then said, ‘Gentlemen, if you would care to propose a house where we can speak without being overheard, I think I can explain this story to you all.’

Pierre was there just as the men walked from the inn, and he quickly darted into a doorway, shoving Hamund before him.

‘What d’you—’

‘Shut up!’ Pierre snarled, peeping around the wall and watching as the four men, followed by two of Sir Andrew’s men-at-arms, walked briskly up the road towards the paver’s road works. They strode on until they came to a smaller private house, where Simon opened the door for Sir Andrew, and waved his guests inside.

‘Why are they there?’ Hamund wondered.

‘They want to talk in secret, without interruptions and spies listening,’ Pierre said. He gnawed at his inner cheek. The strain was beginning to tell on him. In the past he had always been cool and comfortable even in battle, but now he was prey to doubts. He knew that he must be doing the right thing in setting off for France again, but he wondered now whether he was really helping
her
or not. The idea that his action could lead to more distress was appalling, but his only alternative was to kill Sir Andrew. Surely he must kill or be killed.

‘What can they talk about that’s so important?’ Hamund wanted to know.

Pierre could not answer that. He was too anxious already. If these men decided to pool their resources, it would be impossible to escape. They could stop the ship from sailing until all the crew had been questioned and tested, they could hold all vessels in the haven. Perhaps he could persuade Gil to collect him farther down the coast? Pierre could make his way to another town, or maybe just a small fishing village, and take a boat out to meet Gil from there? But no. What would Gil want with that? It would be a nuisance, and even if his old master had wanted him to help Pierre, now Paul Pyckard was dead, there was little incentive for him to ensure that Pierre was safe. Better for him if he never saw Pierre again.

‘Master, don’t be downhearted,’ Hamund said. ‘Look, we’ll soon be on the ship again, and then we can sail for France and start afresh like you said.’

‘I hope so, friend. I sincerely hope so,’ Pierre said.

‘What was it, Baldwin?’ Simon asked in an undertone as soon as he had closed the door. Sir Andrew was inside with his two men, and Simon warily observed them as he thrust the bar home to stop intrusion.

‘A written authority from Lord Despenser, giving him powers of arrest and judgment, in the name of the King,’ Baldwin said equally quietly. His voice was cool, betraying none of the rage he felt at his treatment by that arrogant puppy.

‘What’s he got that for?’ the Coroner mused less quietly. ‘It’s more than I have. It’s more than
you
have as Keeper.’

‘I was sent here to keep an eye on a man who was
supposed to have offended some lady in the Queen’s entourage,’ Baldwin said. ‘I think that this Andrew is here for the same reason. He has been sent here to try to capture that man.’

‘But Bishop Walter said …’ Simon began.

‘Mistakes have been made before now,’ Baldwin reminded him.

‘The bishop’s nephew is home and safe.’

‘So who is the man who was killed?’ Coroner Richard wondered. ‘The man we thought was the victim has reappeared safely.’

‘We still have two dead men – Danny and this fellow we haven’t identified yet,’ Baldwin said. ‘Let alone the eleven others from the
Saint John
.’

‘You still seek to blame me for that?’ Sir Andrew asked.

Baldwin crossed the room to stand before him, his arms folded. ‘You have the ship, you have the men. Who else would have wanted to stop a ship that might have harboured a man whom you hate? You took the vessel, but the crew was determined to defend her to the last, perhaps, and you were forced to kill them all. It would be understandable when a man with a royal warrant like yours felt that he had an urgent mission to fulfil.’

‘You think I would forget all reason and attack without a qualm?’

‘You did today,’ Simon reminded him.

‘I had good information that the man was aboard her,’ Sir Andrew said with an unpleasant glint in his eye. ‘I paid good money for that information.’

‘Information can be sold in good faith and still be wrong,’
Simon suggested. ‘Much of the crew was ashore to witness the funeral of their master.’

‘It can also be sold knowing it is false,’ Sir Andrew said uncompromisingly.

‘What do you want from us?’ Baldwin asked.

‘The tale I had told of this man … it is not the entire truth.’

‘We had guessed that,’ Simon said.

‘He is French,’ Sir Andrew said. ‘And just now, perhaps you know that relations between the French king and our own sit upon a knife’s edge. The French demand that King Edward go to them to swear fealty for the lands he still possesses there; the King fears for his life, if he were to go. It is a terrible situation. And in the meantime there is a great household in the heart of the nation, which is full of scheming Frenchmen. One of them has disappeared, and he had hurried down this way, we believe.’

‘What of it?’ Baldwin demanded. ‘He is of the Queen’s household, you say? He should have safe passage, surely?’

‘The Queen is corresponding with her brother in France without the King’s permission. He has no idea what she is writing, just as we are slipping towards war in Gascony once more. No king could tolerate that! The dangers – well, they cannot be exaggerated. There is a lot of information that could be passed to the French that might be deleterious to our prospects in Gascony.’

‘It may also be that there are no letters,’ Baldwin said.

‘There are. We know that.’

‘Even if there are, you hurried here in your great ship in order to catch the Frenchman, not knowing whether he was
here or no. And then you took the cog
Saint John
and slaughtered all the men aboard her, even though you had no proof that he was on her?’

‘I had good intelligence from some …’

‘Like your damned intelligence today?’ Baldwin snapped. ‘You murdered eleven men on board the
Saint John
because of a man who may have lied to you for money?’

‘If you had allowed me to finish my sentence, Sir Baldwin, I was about to say that I had good intelligence that he was here, so I hurried here to the town. I never said I had attacked that ship. I suggest you be careful about the allegations you level against me.’

There was a firmness in his tone and a set to his shoulders that showed the suggestion had annoyed him, and perhaps even worried him slightly. Baldwin considered him for a few moments, assessing the danger this fair-haired man posed.

Meanwhile, Simon was frowning. ‘What would bring him here, though? His path would have been safer were he to go to London or some other port, surely. What would make him come here?’

‘His brother-in-law,’ Sir Andrew said, and now his face grew black with disappointment and frustration. ‘I had hoped to catch them both together, but when I got here, I learned that his brother-in-law was dead.’

‘Pyckard?’ Baldwin asked.

‘Yes. He married Amandine de Caen, the sister to Pierre de Caen. It is him I seek. If we catch him, we may well stop a dangerous spy from communicating secrets to the French king.’

‘And you will be richly rewarded, no doubt,’ Baldwin
said.

Coroner Richard shook his head. ‘Don’t you have enough money already?’

‘Can a man ever have enough?’ Sir Andrew asked with a cynical smile.

‘You have a rich craft there,’ Simon pointed out. ‘What is she, sixty? Eighty tuns?’

‘The
Gudyer
? She’s not mine,’ Sir Andrew shrugged. ‘She is owned by my lord Despenser. He told me to take her, in order to reach here all the faster.’

Baldwin’s eyes narrowed. ‘Is that the ship he used when he was in exile?’

There was a sudden silence in the room as all the men considered his words. The henchmen behind Sir Andrew caught the atmosphere belatedly, and one stepped forward, his hand on his sword-hilt. Sir Andrew blandly raised a hand without looking at him, and the man let his hand slowly fall away to rest on his belt buckle as though prepared to grab for steel at the earliest opportunity.