The Outlaws of Ennor: (Knights Templar 16) (41 page)

‘The worse for its owner,’ William grunted. ‘Ranulph de Blancminster is a harsh master to his people here. If it were only possible to remove him and install a more moderate man, I should be glad.’ He surveyed the castle and walls for a moment, then sniffed. ‘Ah! There he is now.’

Baldwin looked up and saw a dark-featured man staring out towards the north. He was dressed in a light linen shirt and simple green jack like a peasant, and had a short grey riding cloak draped over his shoulder.

At his side was a shorter figure, a man who wore a more ostentatious dress. He had a thicker woollen cloak, a fur-trimmed coat with high collar, and his head was warmed by a hat with a broad brim.

‘Which is Ranulph?’ Baldwin asked.

‘The man on the left, with the riding cloak.’

‘He looks less interested in money than his companion.’

‘Yes, well, his companion is his damned clerk. That is Thomas, the man who’s behind much of the unrest on the islands. I wouldn’t
trust him further than I can spit,’ William said and demonstrated. ‘See? Not very far. I hate that bastard. If it weren’t for him, my life would be a lot easier.’ He shot Baldwin a look. ‘When they have a complaint against the castle, the peasants usually come to me first, to whinge about the way they’ve been treated. It takes me hours each week, trying to deal with all the problems. I’ve got other things to do, as well as see to the pastoral side of life here. Damn it all, I have a smallholding to run!’

Baldwin smiled. ‘Tell me, now that we are alone, what do you think of these murders? I do not see Isok as a killer by nature, but he has a strong build, does he not? And it is quite possible that he could have wished to see Robert and Luke dead.’

‘So could many others,’ William said warily.

‘True, and I do not expect you to betray any confessions which you have received,’ Baldwin said hastily.

‘No, no. I’ve had nothing like that,’ William said, ‘but you have to appreciate that I’ve lived among these folks for many years, and it’s hard to put the neck of a man you’ve enjoyed an ale with after harvest, a man whom you’ve grown to like – well, it’s hard to put his throat in the noose.’

‘I quite understand. Yet if these homicides are the result of one man’s outrageous violence, then we have to consider how to prevent him striking again, do we not?’

The two men had been steadily approaching the castle, and now William gave a short bleat of dismay. ‘Sir Baldwin, you mustn’t go any nearer! Not while Ranulph de Blancminster can see you! Any stranger here will be noticed among so few people!’

Baldwin stopped. ‘But this is ridiculous!’ he muttered. ‘I am a King’s Officer.’

‘Perhaps you are. It’s only fifteen-odd years ago that Ranulph arrested and fined the King’s Coroner for taking a whale. What would he do to a man he suspected of murder?’

Baldwin reluctantly nodded, and William led him around the castle walls and along the road to the east of the island.

‘How far is it to this man Hamadus’s place?’

‘He lives not far from here.’

‘On
this island nowhere is far from here,’ Baldwin said, trying to lighten their mood. He disliked that castle – no, more than that: there was a brooding atmosphere about the place.

‘Who’s that with the priest?’ Ranulph scowled.

Thomas squinted at the two men walking northwards. ‘I don’t recognise that fellow. He wasn’t on the
Anne
.’

‘Was he on the
Faucon Dieu
?’

‘No, of course not,’ Thomas said, adding hastily, ‘I don’t think so, anyway. I believe the master mentioned to me that he dislikes carrying passengers.’

And you know his likes and dislikes very well, don’t you, Thomas? Ranulph thought to himself. Aloud he said, ‘Perhaps we should offer to remove a part of his cargo. The ship was close to being sunk, wasn’t it?’

Thomas smiled thinly. ‘No, I think it could be dangerous. The master knows the Despensers. If we were to threaten him or kill and rob him, the Despensers could wonder what was happening down here on the islands.’

‘We’ve never worried about them before,’ Ranulph noted. Then irritably, ‘Don’t you have a suitable spy to keep an eye on those two? I want to know who that man is and what he’s doing on my island.’

Thomas looked down into the yard. He could see Simon Puttock talking to Walerand. ‘Walerand! Come here. I have a mission for you.’

‘And then we need to make sure of the plan for tomorrow,’ Ranulph said. ‘I do not want the risk of any men escaping. You must see to it that the vill is unwarned and unprepared.’

‘I have guaranteed that, I think,’ Thomas said with a smug grin. ‘Tomorrow, I have learned, the whole of the vill will be occupied. We shall attack late in the morning.’

Ranulph closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Opening his eyes again, he turned them, glittering malignantly, upon his servant. ‘You pig’s turd! Do you know nothing about fighting? The crucial thing is surprise! That means coming upon them when they least expect it and destroying any armed men before they can grab their weapons!’

‘My
Lord, tomorrow we shall have the full benefit of surprise,’ Thomas promised. ‘Tomorrow, so I have been told by a reliable man, is the day which is set for that man Isok’s trial. All the boatmen are talking about it. Two women have been told to investigate him and see whether they can make his tarse harden. If they can, his divorce fails; if they can’t, it’s accepted that it’s not merely some excuse from his wife to attain a divorce, and the Prior can report back to the Bishop’s court that all the best efforts of the good and honest women were to no avail, and the divorce shall be permitted.’

‘So what?’ Ranulph demanded. ‘Can you be sure of surprise?’

Walerand had arrived, a nervous, shambling figure in front of his master and the castle’s steward. ‘You wanted … something from me?’

‘Get a grip on yourself, you pitiful churl!’ Thomas grated. ‘Now go up that road and see who it is with William. I don’t know where they are going, nor why. Follow them, learn their movements, and then come and tell me here. Is that clear?’ Thomas rapped out his commands in the manner of a military leader.

‘Yes,’ Walerand said, and seeing the expression on Ranulph’s face, he bolted.

‘Yes,’ Thomas continued when they were alone again. ‘I can guarantee surprise, I think. The whole vill will be watching this test. Nobody will miss it, not after the amount of talk about the two of them. While they are all watching to see whether the man can get it up, we can come upon them like sea raiders ourselves!’

‘Good,’ Ranulph said, but his attention had wandered. He had spotted the Bailiff below, walking about near the armoury. There were boxes of arms in there, enough for a fellow to remove a dagger or two if he had a mind – but why should the Bailiff bother? He already had a sword.

Ranulph put the thought from him as he listened to Thomas. It was only later that he was to realise what Simon had been doing there.

Hamadus was in his room when his dog woke. The hound’s head shot upright, wrinkles forming all along the broad skull, and then he gave a low, warning growl.

Hamadus
heard the tread of two pairs of feet. Cocking his head, he listened as intently as Uther, and then gave a dry grin. ‘All right, you old bastard,’ he muttered to the hound, and set another pot near the fire.

Soon there was a hammering at his door, and the little cottage felt as though it shook. Hamadus rolled his eyes as Uther rose to his feet, the hackles rising all along his back. ‘Sit down, Uther!’ he commanded, and then called, ‘Come in, William, and stop upsetting my hound.’

Baldwin entered and was pleased to find the place was not so ramshackle as it had appeared from outside.

It was a typical fisherman’s cottage, Baldwin supposed. From outside it looked dilapidated, with the thatch green and holed, the walls mere moorstone patched and filled with soil; inside, he found it was a warm, well-heated place, with a goodly-sized fire in the middle of the floor bounded by a circle of large stones. About the room were the man’s few belongings: a single stool, a palliasse, unrolled and ready for sleeping, on which the dog now stood, head down and frowning like a suspicious alewife watching a none-too-sober client entering her hall. At one wall was a large falchion, a sword with a single edge to its blade, leaning as though ready for use some time soon. A low table and a chest formed the only other items of furniture, but a wooden fence had been erected at the far end of the little room, and there a pig snorted gently in sleep, while two chickens strutted about the floor and a third roosted on top of the fence itself.

There was an odour of urine and ammonia, but the pig gave off a wholesome smell, and it was a cosy, comfortable place, Baldwin thought. After all, there were few homes the length and breadth of England which were not more noisome than this.

‘Hamadus, we are here to ask you what you were doing out and about on the night of the storm. We know you were near where the gather-reeve died,’ Baldwin said calmly.

‘Really? Ah, you’ll want some warmed ale, then.’ Hamadus smiled, and indicated his warming pot. ‘It won’t be long.’

‘I do not want to drink something rescued from a wreck,’ Baldwin said sternly.

‘It
was paid for, like all my other goods,’ Hamadus said. He maintained his smile. After all, as he knew full well, he had done nothing wrong. He glanced at William, and saw that the priest’s face remained black, but that was no surprise. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘You were once a sailor?’

‘I was once a fisherman, yes. Now I’m sexton. It’s much safer when the wind starts to blow.’

Hamadus watched as Uther slowly crept forward, nose down low to the ground, and stood at Baldwin’s side. It was a sight that made him smile whenever he saw his hound approach others. It was always alarming to people to have that great ‘brute’ approach. Then he saw Baldwin’s hand drop as though unthinkingly, to touch Uther’s head, and saw how, imperceptibly, Uther’s head rose to relax into the scratching fingers, and suddenly Hamadus felt less secure even with Uther in the room with him. He shot another look at William, but the priest was still scowling. Yes, Hamadus felt suddenly very nervous.

Baldwin glanced at the dog beside him. ‘Did you take this brute with you on the night of the storm?’

‘Yes. I always have him with me.’

‘I would imagine that would make assassination difficult,’ Baldwin said lightly. Ignoring Hamadus’ swift intake of breath and angry expostulation, he continued, ‘Do you have a boat? Something small which could sail about the islands?’

‘Yes, but I don’t use it much. It’s on the shore now because it was holed by a falling branch during the storm.’

‘I should like to see that,’ Baldwin said thoughtfully.

There was little about which he was sure, but he was quite certain that Hamadus was not the murderer. There were a number of little pointers which seemed to indicate his innocence. His boat would be one proof, but more to the point was Isok’s comment about a seaman not pushing a boat like Luke’s out into the sea in the hope that it might disappear. In Baldwin’s mind, this had the ring of authenticity. Surely the murderer was a land-based man. Unless Isok himself was trying to distract him …

‘May I see your dagger?’ he said, holding out his hand.

Hamadus
reached to his belt, hesitated, and then pulled his dagger free and passed it to Baldwin.

It was a good little knife, with a blade of eight inches. It was possible that it could have killed Robert, but the man’s wound was a shallow one which had not managed to puncture both breast and back. A hard blow of the sort which had killed Robert would have gone through and out the other side with a knife-blade this long.

Baldwin nodded and passed it back to the old man. He was even less able to believe in Hamadus’s criminality after feeling the muzzle of Uther. In his experience, the harsher and more brutal the man, the more unsettled and dangerous the dog. Yet Uther appeared calm and biddable, while Hamadus gave no impression of being mad or evil. If anything, he appeared perfectly sane and intelligent.

‘I thank you. Your hound is a good brute. I used to have a dog by the same name. A mastiff,’ he said, stroking Uther. ‘Why did you give him that name?’

‘These islands. You know that some say Arthur is buried here? Uther was Arthur’s father.’

‘Ah, of course. Now, that night, I do not care what you were doing out there, but did you see anyone else?’

‘I saw Luke.’ Hamadus’s paused.

‘Luke? Where did you see him?’

‘On the beach,’ Hamadus said. ‘He had been over to the castle, I think. He was with Thomas, anyway.’

‘What would Thomas have had to discuss with him?’ Baldwin frowned.

‘That is why we’re here,’ William said. ‘Ham, can you tell Sir Baldwin about Thomas’s business?’

Hamadus looked seriously at Baldwin. ‘I suppose so,’ he said reluctantly.

‘It will go no further,’ Baldwin promised.

‘Thomas smuggles some stuff, just for the money, but that’s not his real game. What he does is, he collects customs from all ships coming into the port here, and then takes a large amount of the money for himself.’

‘Does not his master realise?’

‘Doesn’t
seem to. Thomas has been playing this game for many years now. He’s made himself rich. Now he can afford his own ship to bring over more legal cargoes, although I think he still brings some illegal stuff, just because he thinks he’s indestructible.’