The Outlaws of Ennor: (Knights Templar 16) (40 page)

Ranulph de Blancminster rode back into his castle with a curt glower at all who greeted him, his customary response to any form of friendliness from his staff or his peasants alike. He had no trust in men apart from his own very small and specific circle of family and one or two friends. Only one or two, though, and even among them his trust was limited.

No warlord should ever totally trust those about him. Blancminster knew full well that, just as Walerand was keen to take on the duties so recently discarded by Robert, there were plenty of men who would be glad to own the licence to Ennor Castle – as he himself had been when he had seen the opportunity to take the place after the De Wika family. Thomas was a very ambitious man, he knew. He suspected that it was Thomas’s ambition which had led the Sergeant to try to take the customs money of the Manor for himself. Ranulph knew all about that, of course. Only a fool would think that he could get away with stealing from Ranulph on a small island like this without being discovered.

He himself wasn’t born on this island. Like other Lords of the Manor, he had come here from the mainland, in Ranulph’s case from Benamy, near Stratton in Northern Cornwall. His brother had inherited, there was nothing for him to achieve by remaining there, so he had snatched at the chance of moving to the little group of islands and making a new life for himself. With any luck he would
be able to found a new dynasty on this group of rocks in the middle of the seas. But that pleasing thought did not blind him to the realities of his situation.

Ranulph cantered into the castle’s broad yard, his rounsey rearing as he drew him to a halt. He could feel his two daggers move in their sheaths under his sword-belt where he kept them hidden. When he had the horse under his control again, he stared at the men in the cobbled yard.

The men were a mix of his own servants and peasants. From the look of them, they had been moving the
Anne
’s cargo about the storerooms. Thomas was never satisfied unless he had all stowed as efficiently as the master of a ship. Wines and ales would remain down by the shore in one of the lock-up sheds, apart from a couple of tuns of each which would be brought up for tasting, while the more easily transported goods would be moved up here to the castle itself. Even now he could see Thomas standing at the top of the stairs which led to the keep. The Sergeant was talking to a man with thinning brown hair, whose face was burned the colour of old chestnut by the sun. When he moved, Ranulph saw he had the bandylegged gait of a sailor.

Swinging himself from his horse, Ranulph stood a moment while grooms scurried to take the horse from him, and then, ignoring Thomas, he crossed the busy courtyard and climbed the steps which gave onto the walls, standing and staring thoughtfully over his estates.

It was a novel Manor. No one else he knew had anything like this. On all sides he was bounded by the sea, and from here he could see both the north and south coasts. On a fine day like this, he would be able to see the whole of his estate practically from the top of the keep, a heartwarming sight.

Many would have thought this a perfect location. Ranulph was more sanguine. He knew that the King, Edward II, was weakly and incompetent. The stories of the man’s profligacy abounded, especially in Cornwall. There all were astonished at the generosity of the King, giving his earldom of Cornwall to the appalling Piers Gaveston at first, and then, in a deliberate act of reconciliation, to his wife, Isabella. Not that it would help matters between them so far as
Ranulph had heard. She was as bitter now as only a Frenchwoman of nobility could be, learning that her husband had rejected her. Worst, from her perspective, was the fact that he had not rejected her for another woman, but for a succession of men, if rumours be true. The latest was this Despenser puppy, another upstart who saw a way to wealth by pleasing the King’s loins and flattering his imbecile fancies.

That was Ranulph’s reading of the situation on the mainland, and for his part, he was more than delighted with his islands here in the sun, west of Cornwall. Most Manors throughout the country had boundaries which met other men’s lands; here Ranulph had no such problems. Other lords meant disputes, questions about a man’s loyalties, fights among staff when they met in adjoining towns, and in the last analysis there were too many risks when a man was called to support his King or the most powerful barons in the land. True, the King had quashed Thomas of Lancaster and seen to his execution – a forceful means of chastising an errant cousin! – but that meant nothing. Up and down England, more men were preparing to take Earl Thomas’s place, jockeying for the chance to remove Edward’s adviser and lover, Hugh Despenser, and his equally rapacious father, because whosoever was lucky enough to get those two out of the way, would have an immediate line straight to the King, and could control all power within the realm.

Ranulph was not stupid enough to think that he could win such a position. He knew that other men would take the laurels and power, and he was content with that, provided he was not called upon to help any of them. Getting involved in fights against the King was dangerous, and Ranulph enjoyed the sensation of having his head on his shoulders too much to want to endanger that satisfactory union.

It was strange to think that the disloyal and treacherous Earl Thomas had, by a curious quirk of fate, the same name as Ranulph’s Sergeant. Perhaps treachery was inherited with a name? At least there were no neighbours here who could bribe Thomas to make Ranulph’s life more politically confusing. Any shenanigans like that stayed on the mainland, and the folk there were welcome to them!

For
Ranulph, looking out over his estates from here was a pleasant reminder that here there were no bickering neighbours to discontent him. Here, all was apparently calm. He had a sea, which could be more or less troublesome, and peasants, which could be worse.

He also had Thomas and Thomas’s men.

The steward was a fool. Soon Ranulph would have to remove him, but he’d have to do so carefully. Thomas thought that he had hoodwinked his master. Ranulph would enjoy seeing his reaction when he accused him of the crimes he knew he had committed.

In the meantime, although the men in the castle had been hired by Thomas, Ranulph was content that they would obey him and his money when he had a need of their obedience. Thomas had picked them from the detritus which tended to wash up in the ports and docks of Cornwall and Devon because, as the Sergeant was so fond of pointing out, what other sort of man would be happy to move all the way out to the islands? No man wanted to be exiled to a tiny plot of land so far from England. No man in his right mind, anyway. So they had to recruit the idiots and the callow, the feeble, or the wicked, and the wicked were best, because they were strong, they were fearsome, and they kept the peasants quiet. There was no doubt that they scared the living shit out of the folk who lived here, and from Ranulph’s point of view, that was one thing that Thomas had proved to be correct about: the peasants here were an aggressive, suspicious, greedy mob who needed a firm hand to rule them. That was why he had given Thomas a more or less free rein to control them.

And Thomas had
failed
.

Now was the time to think about Thomas’s replacement. Thomas had persuaded Ranulph of the need for an attack on the island of St Nicholas to pursue the pirates there, but Ranulph had to decide what to do when that attack was completed. Somehow he had to find a man who was capable of taking over Thomas’s place. That wouldn’t be easy, he reckoned, as he glanced over some of the faces in the yard about him.

Thomas had joined him on the walls now, and was fawning at him like a hound who’d been kicked once too often. The man often did
so, and it annoyed Ranulph no end; he was a servile fellow, and that was all there was to him. It was irritating, but not, as Ranulph told himself, for much longer.

‘Well? Have you done all I told you?’ Ranulph barked.

‘Yes, of course,’ Thomas smiled. ‘And when they heard that there was a chance of having their revenge upon the pirates, they leaped at the opportunity.’

‘How many are there?’

‘Fifteen from the
Faucon Dieu
and the Bailiff and three from the
Anne.
That should be enough, together with our twelve. That is thirty-three, with you and myself added.’

‘Who was the man with you just now on the steps?’

‘Him? Just the master of the
Faucon Dieu.
He appears happy to assist us for a chance of getting at the pirates.’

‘A shame we couldn’t have the knight join us,’ Ranulph said grimly.

‘What could you do? The man drew a sword on you as though you were yourself a common pirate! He deserves his fate.’

‘We shall have to have a court as soon as we have succeeded in destroying that nest of adders,’ Ranulph said. It was curious that in an island like this, where there were no serpents, the men living there became more snake-like themselves. Ranulph had suspected them of piracy before now, but the arrival of the
Anne
had confirmed his worst fears.

Over the last years he had repeatedly warned the Prior to keep them under control. If they didn’t stop raiding shipping, he would be forced to attack them, but they hadn’t listened, had they? And now they were going to suffer for their crimes. It was the least he could do as guardian of the castle. His true position was a curious mixture: in part the protector of the realm’s farthest western territory, in part the King’s official. As tenant-in-chief, he was Keeper of the Castle, but also Coroner, now that the fool le Poer had been sent back to the mainland with his tail between his legs. He had tried to pull a fast one, but Ranulph had soon shown him his mistake. Ranulph was the master of this manor, and he wouldn’t let anyone else take advantage. This was his and his
alone.

Now
the pirates who lived under the wing of the priory thought that because they lived on Cryspyn’s island, they were safe. Ranulph would show them that they weren’t. He was going to make them realise that when a Blancminster made a threat, it was serious. He’d kill them all, if he had the opportunity, and then, he smiled to himself,
then
he could control all the islands.

The beauty of it was, the Bailiff would help. In part because he wanted to defend his friend, but also because he hated the men who had attacked the
Anne.
So he would help Ranulph win over St Nicholas against the priory, even though Simon’s own Master would be furious to hear that St Nicholas had been stolen.

Simon was Ranulph’s defence. If any accused Ranulph of highhanded action, he could point to Tavistock Abbey’s own Bailiff. And while the dispute raged, he would consolidate his position on St Nicholas Island.

He could become the Lord of all the islands.

Baldwin
was relieved to see that Isok had brought the boat up beside a small ladder built against the wall of a quay on Ennor. He climbed from the boat and up the ladder, holding out a hand to help William to follow him. Isok threw a rope and Baldwin caught it and thrust it tightly through a large steel ring set into the moorstone floor. Only when it seemed secure did Isok join them.

‘Are you going to come with us?’ William asked.

‘No. I must collect some provisions. When I have them, I shall be gone, back to St Nicholas.’

‘I have to get back there, too,’ Baldwin said. ‘Will you wait for me?’

‘Find your own way,’ Isok snarled, and was off along the quayside before Baldwin could recover his senses, he was so shocked at the rudeness. As a knight, Baldwin was unused to being treated in so abusive a manner.

‘Don’t listen to his growling. His bite is non-existent,’ William said gently. ‘How would you feel if you knew that there was to be a public test of your manhood?’

Baldwin knew that he had no right to feel anger at Isok’s attitude to him. Although Isok didn’t know it, Baldwin was acutely aware of his guilt. To molest the man’s wife in his own bed! The guilt of that encounter tore at him.

‘So, Sir Knight. Do you really wish to question this man Hamadus? I know him well enough because he is my sexton. He’s the man I was going to introduce you to to learn about Thomas’s activities. Perhaps I could take you to speak with him?’

‘Yes, if that would be possible, I am sure that your company would be most useful,’ Baldwin said, and then all thoughts of the investigation fled. ‘But I must find my friend Simon first. It is intolerable to think that he has no idea of my survival.’

‘Absolutely!
And as soon as it is safe, we shall arrange for him to visit you on St Nicholas – but not now. I discussed that with you earlier. I do not think it would be safe for you to go to the place yet. Not while they harbour suspicions about you.’

Baldwin nodded grimly. He was unhappy to think that he was not free to see his friend, but he could understand that William was probably being sensible. Baldwin felt very far from home – in some ways these islands were more disturbing to him than his pilgrimage to Spain. At least there he had been excited because of returning to a land he had known in his youth, and all strangeness was understandable because it sprang from the foreign languages and habits of the people. Here, on an island which was supposed to be English, he felt the differences between this and his home more keenly. It was alarming to think that he could be viewed as a felon.

Before long the two were padding up the road past the vill of La Val. It was here that Baldwin had his first real sight of the castle standing on its little crag. ‘That is an unpleasant-looking fortress,’ he remarked.