The Last Templar (40 page)
“Yes. It would have been impossible for me to go without settling things here. Did you know that they have found Brewer’s son?”
“No, I had not heard.”
“Yes, Morgan Brewer was found in Exeter. He’s a merchant now, and apparently wealthy. That was where his father used to get his money from. His son sent money home now and then to help keep him.”
“Ah, I see. Is he coming back?”
“No. It seems he hated his father as much as everyone else. He has said he will remain in Exeter and continue as a merchant. The only reason he sent money back was to stop his father following him, to keep him here.”
“I don’t understand - why send money to his father if he hated him so much?”
“It’s simple, apparently. Morgan Brewer has a good living in the city, he’s well known and liked. He didn’t want an old and dirty farmer arriving and disrupting his life. He agreed to send money when his father wanted, and it was not much to pay to keep him away. The farm cost little and stayed profitable, and the old farmer needed little to keep him in ale.”
Baldwin looked at him thoughtfully. “But why did he boast to the Carters and Ulton, then? If he had to live by his son’s alms, why did he brag of his own fortune?”
“Perhaps he looked on his son’s success as being a measure of his own? I don’t know.” Simon shrugged. “It’s possible that the old stories are true and he came back from war with money - maybe if you dig under his floor you will find a chest filled with gold. I don’t know. It’s sad, though,” Simon’s eyes became reflective as he pondered. “It’s sad to think that Brewer could die and leave no one to mourn him. Nobody seems to care that he’s gone, not even his son…”
Baldwin turned and gripped Simon’s upper arm. “My friend,” he said quietly and gravely, “his problems are over, and the miserable end he suffered was his own fault. He lived by making others unhappy, that is why he was killed, why his son left him, and why he will not be mourned. Forget him; he is gone. There’s no need for you to mourn him. You have done enough for others. Here, while we are alone, I want to give you
my
thanks. If you never manage to do another good deed for all the rest of your life, you can at least die easy, knowing that you have given
me
a new life.” His eyes rested on Simon’s for a minute, then he said, “And know that I will always help you if you ever need it.”
Simon laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, his temporary gloom fleeing. “You may regret that! I have already thought of a way you can be of use.”
A vague suspiciousness gleamed as Baldwin’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Me? How?”
“Don’t look at me like that! It won’t be too painful, I swear!” Simon laughingly protested. “Since the death of your brother the area has been without a magistrate, a keeper of the peace. I knew you would wish to help the area as you may, so I have put your name forward, and I think you will be the next magistrate of Crediton.”
Absolute horror showed in Baldwin’s face. “What! Me, a keeper of the king’s peace? But… but for that I have to be…”
“Yes, you cannot be out hunting all day, you have to sit on the bench and work for your living.”
“But Simon, I’ve never done anything like that before, how… ?”
“You will learn fast enough, I think. Now, enough! Let us go in and see what Margaret has produced for us.”
They strolled back to the front of the house. At the door, Baldwin stopped and looked at the view. “Simon,” he began quietly, but the bailiff shook his head.
“No. My friend, you are a man of position. That is all that matters and all that need be known. Come, let’s eat.”
They walked in and shut the door behind them.
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