The Outlaws of Ennor: (Knights Templar 16) (25 page)

David flushed with anger. ‘You should watch your tongue! My wife is a good woman. She’d not lower herself to that level.’

‘You think so?’ Tedia spat. ‘She lies in the gutter with the other rats!’

David stepped forward and his hand rose to slap her face, but before he could do so, Baldwin was between them. With ease, David removed his hand from Baldwin’s grip. ‘Don’t pick fights until you’re back to your full strength, Sir Baldwin,’ he said, but calmer again now. ‘Tedia: watch what you say. Next time I may not be so lenient. I won’t stand here to listen to my wife being insulted.’

‘Wait, Reeve,’ Baldwin said as David made to walk away.

‘What?’

‘Where were you on the night that this man died?’

‘The
night of the storm? I was with my boat, making sure that it was secure.’

‘Did you see anyone else?’

‘You doubt my word? I had no reason to kill that son of a whore.’

‘Perhaps so, but if you saw another man, that man might himself be the murderer.’

‘I only saw the priest: Luke from St Elidius. If you want to question someone, question him,’ David said, and marched away.

With a sudden clarity, Tedia saw Luke’s face again, that day when they had spoken about seeking another lover. His eyes had been so kind and understanding, but then, when she had said that she knew a man who could service her, his expression had frozen, like ice settling in a pond. ‘The Brother!’ she gasped.

‘Which brother?’

‘Luke, the man at St Elidius. I spoke to him, and he said to me that I should find another man, but now – I think he was jealous. He wanted me for himself!’

Baldwin gave an understanding grunt. It was easy to see how a man could become infatuated with this woman, he told himself.

‘It could have been Luke … but what if it
was
Isok? What can I do? I can’t live with a man whom I suspect of killing my love!’ she exclaimed, and slumped in despair, her hands covering her face. Turning, she threw herself back into Baldwin’s embrace, and he found his hands reaching out to go about her body, then hesitated. Somehow he was sure that if he were to cradle this woman again, he might not be able to save himself from lusting after her. He paused, arms near her, but not touching. A delicious scent rose to his nostrils, the fresh, sweet smell of a young woman.

She snuggled herself into the crook of his shoulder, and Baldwin could feel his heart thundering like a smith’s hammer. ‘If you want to know who killed Robert, leave it to me,’ he said, and put both arms about her, pulling her into a tight embrace, staring challengingly at David.

Simon
reached the sandy bar where the body had been found, and studied the place with interest.

Without the jury there, it appeared a still more deserted part of the island. It was a broad sweep of beach, with a low huddle of grassy dunes behind. When Simon went to the water’s edge, he saw that it was clear through to the shallows; shoals of tiny fish were darting backwards and forwards amongst the small stones and shells.

For all that he was here to catch a killer, he was aware of a fair-day attitude of mind. He indeed felt as though this was a day of rest away from the toils of his work. The islands were beautiful, the weather was warm, the wind a gentle breeze, and he felt entirely comfortable and happy. Still …

‘Show me where you found the body,’ he said reluctantly to Walerand.

‘You were here for the inquest.’

Simon ignored his sulky tone. ‘Yes, I was, wasn’t I?’ he agreed amiably. ‘The body had already been moved from where you found it, hadn’t it?’

Walerand gave him a long, hard stare, suspecting that Simon was making fun of him. ‘He was here.’

Simon, who cared little what Walerand thought, went to join him. There was a soft dip in the ground, a concave section of sand with thick grasses growing all about it. A man could have been hidden here for days, he noticed. He said sharply, ‘It would have been hard for a man to know where to look.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘The body would have been hidden in the grasses.’

‘It wasn’t so hard. I saw his boots.’

‘Ah yes. His boots. He had taken them off, and his hosen as well.’

‘What
of it?’

‘Nothing. It is interesting to note, though.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I do. It is interesting that the sea has washed up here since the storm too.’

‘I couldn’t command the sea to stay away,’ Walerand sneered.

‘How did he lie?’ Simon said impatiently. He was swiftly growing bored with Walerand’s whining voice as he scanned the rest of the dunes, walking slowly and cautiously.

‘He was on his back, facing the sea.’

‘His wound?’

‘You heard the Coroner: one stab in his breast. Could have been the sword I found. That one,’ he added, pointing.

Simon ignored the comment. He was still searching, and then he found something. A mark or two, indentations in the sand at the bottom of a dune. They were spattered with tiny craters, so the rain had come afterwards, but from looking at them, Simon wondered whether they might have been made by a person kneeling in the sand. Hard to tell, he decided.

Returning to where the body had lain, he noticed a pitted area of sand. It was marked with lines, and there was a darker central area – again, all pitted from the rain. Simon pursed his lips, but then he scooped out the sand and peered at it. There were some darker stains where the grains were flocculated, and he gently broke some apart, sniffing at them. It was impossible to be certain, but he felt sure that these lumps were congealed blood. This could have been the place where the murderer cleaned his knife, he thought.

Searching on, he found nothing, so he stopped and stood with his arms akimbo, gazing about him. Baldwin had many times said that a man could learn much from a body or a murder scene, but here there was nothing, merely an empty stretch of land between this island and the others.

He noticed that the islands here seemed to encircle a patch of sea, as though set out originally ringing a large pool. A man might come here to watch the other islands. Perhaps he would sit and gaze at them. But why? Purely because he liked the view? It was possible.
Many men would so adore a particular piece of land that they would go and stare at it. Women would be more likely to create their own space. Margaret, Simon’s wife, had caused the small plot behind their house at Lydford to be converted into a large, open-air hall, and in clement weather, when they had guests, she was pleased to walk with them through this patch of cultivation. It made Simon smile to see how proud she was of it.

Men were less enthusiastic about man-made spaces, Simon felt sure. He himself was most happy in Dartmoor, because he knew that land intimately and he was most at ease in that great waste.

‘This Robert: was he keen on this place, do you know?’

Walerand stared at him. ‘Keen? It’s only a beach.’

He saw Simon’s quick look of disgust, and felt close to clenching his fist and hitting the fool. This Bailiff was no better than some pimp. He wandered about the place so carefully in case he got his tunic dirty, the pus-filled windbag. Ooh! Mustn’t get my boots mucky; mustn’t have any sand on my tunic; mustn’t slip into that water … It made Walerand feel sick just to watch.

‘Which island is nearest?’

Walerand looked at him, then out to sea. ‘The nearest is St Nicholas, I reckon.’

‘I hear he had a woman out there.’

Walerand felt a sneaking respect for him. ‘Where’d you hear that?’

‘It doesn’t matter. Is it true?’

‘Might be.’

‘Because if it is true, this could all be a jealous boyfriend or angry father or vengeful brother.’ As he scuffed the sand, Simon walked about the dip in the ground, then wandered back to the dunes. ‘You didn’t carry the body back this way?’

‘In Christ’s name, no! What would be the point of that, when there’s a perfectly good roadway just over there? That’s why we came that way!’

‘Correct. And no one else has been over these dunes since the storm?’

‘Why should they?’

Simon
grunted. He walked over eastwards, staring still at the ground. ‘And no one seems to have walked over this way, either. What of the sword? Where was it?’ And where was Robert’s own, he added to himself thoughtfully.

‘So now you think it might have something to do with his death after all?’ Walerand smiled nastily as he led Simon up another sand dune. ‘It was here.’

Simon glanced from the dune back towards the sea. ‘This is not on the way to the road and it is a long way from the water.’

‘So?’

‘Wake up, man! If a killer
was
here, where did he go after the murder? Did he go back, like your men, towards La Val, or did he head in a different direction completely?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Yet the people here believe that Robert had a woman on St Nicholas – the isle which is so near. Was there a boat nearby?’

‘Not when I got here.’

‘So perhaps someone stole it, or took back a boat that he was borrowing,’ Simon guessed. ‘Anyway, what was your gather-reeve doing up here? There was no money to collect, was there? If there was, from whom? Was he here to collect money from someone who promised to bring it here to him, and who then decided to execute him?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You know very little, don’t you? What was he doing up here?’

‘Rumours …’

‘What sort of rumours?’

Walerand replied, ‘Like you said: that he fancied some woman.’

‘On St Nicholas.’

‘Yes. But Thomas had something against him prodding her.’

‘Maybe Thomas didn’t like his men-at-arms taking advantage of women on the islands?’

Walerand laughed sarcastically. ‘He doesn’t mind that, no.’

‘But you said Thomas didn’t like Robert meeting this woman?’

‘He certainly had something against Robert just recently. I assume it was her. Maybe Thomas was jealous.’

‘Perhaps
we should find out who it was?’

‘She was only a piece of—’

‘Whatever you think she was,’ Simon interrupted, ‘Robert thought she was worth visiting and Thomas had something against Robert, which means he might have held some desire for her too. Jealousy can be a strange temper.’

‘You think to accuse
Thomas
of killing him?’ Walerand sniggered. ‘You’re mad!’

‘Perhaps.’

‘And you reckon you can find out all about it?’

‘I can probably do better than others,’ Simon said with a confidence he didn’t feel.

Only a little over a mile away, on St Nicholas, Brosia was at the well when she saw the tall figure walking towards her with the slighter shape of Tedia at his side. The sight of the two striding towards her with what looked like a degree of purposefulness made her stand up straight, wiping her hands on the belly of her tunic. She knew that doing so would emphasise her breasts, and she was pleased to wonder how they would impress this stranger knight. Looking at Tedia, she was sure that she, Brosia, would be better able to ensnare him. She had the build, and no one had ever complained about her looks. Nor had
she
ever failed to make a lover rise for her.

‘This is her,’ Tedia said, her tone dismissive.

‘You are Brosia? Good.’

‘Sir Knight, I am so pleased,’ Brosia said in her best, most breathy, voice, ‘to see you’re all better now. I’d reckoned you’d be laid up in bed for an age, you were so badly harmed. Tell me, are you feeling quite right? I have a small cot in the house, if you wish to settle a while, and maybe I could bring you something while you lie there?’

Baldwin guessed at the sort of ‘thing’ she would bring. ‘No, but I thank you. You have heard that a man was killed on the night of the storm? Do you know anything about this?’

‘Me? What could I know?’ she asked. With a sweet smile, she glanced at Tedia. ‘Have you something you want to say to me?’

‘You know about it, don’t you, slut?’ Tedia snarled, and would
have leaped forward had Baldwin not grasped her shoulder and forearm.

‘You call
me
a slut?’ Brosia demanded, outraged. ‘I wasn’t seeking to bury Robert’s tarse in my—’

‘Be silent! I would prefer not to witness a fight,’ Baldwin said. ‘I simply want to learn what happened, not report two women to the Prior. Brosia, what do you know about this? What are you implying?’

‘It’s common enough knowledge,’ Brosia said, and tossed her head. ‘Most folks on St Nicholas are fully aware of Tedia’s little infatuation with Robert. Not many of us were very impressed, though. If you have to fall in love with a man, Tedia, you should have picked a better one. Look at you! First you find a man who can’t service you, and then you find a man who is so devoted to money, he collects the customs for the Lord of Ennor. Someone who is reviled by everyone on the islands. It’s no surprise he’s dead now,’ she said spitefully. ‘David told me something like this might happen.’

‘So your husband knew about Tedia and Robert?’ Baldwin demanded.