The Outlaws of Ennor: (Knights Templar 16) (48 page)

‘I still don’t understand why they should have attacked the gather-reeve on that particular night. They could have killed him at any time.’

‘They didn’t dare attack in broad daylight. Whoever killed him was a coward – but I shall find the man.’

‘But you aren’t imposing a new tax on your peasants, are you, and you didn’t hear of Robert extorting extra money from islanders, did you? Can you think of
any
reason why he should be killed now?’

‘No. It was a spur of the moment thing, I expect. Someone saw him and decided to take revenge for the taxes he collected last year.’

‘I see,’ Simon said thoughtfully. ‘But your taxes have risen?’

‘Of course. The famine years hurt us, and recently we’ve had only a few wrecks to help support the islands.’

‘I recall Thomas saying that the peasants were growing restive.’

‘Yes. Thomas started spreading tales about the violence of our men-at-arms just to remind them how they might be treated, were they to become more fractious.’

‘Stories such as that of Robert himself?’ Simon asked.

‘Yes,’ Ranulph said absently. He was growing bored with the questions. ‘Did you find a good weapon yesterday? You spent some while in my armoury.’

Simon felt the deck lurch, but it was the movement of the ship, not his heart. ‘I saw many weapons, but nothing appealed,’ he said eventually.

‘Interesting. I thought you must have picked a dagger to match the sword, but then I realised that there was already a dagger on that sword belt,’ Ranulph said. He nodded to himself, and then wandered along the sloping deck to talk to the helmsman.

Simon let out his breath in a gust of relief. Yet he could not lose the feeling of being hunted. He glanced down behind him at the pale
face of Hamo and gave him a reassuring smile, but when Simon faced the front again, he saw those terrible dark eyes of the Lord of the manor upon him.

Cryspyn sat at his table, his grim expression reflecting his mood.

Isok had gone in like a lamb to the slaughter, he had heard, and now he must wait until the poor man came out. It wouldn’t take very long, surely. The examination
per aspectum corporis
was a formality, really. They all knew that Isok didn’t want to be divorced.

There was a noisy gang of men gathered near the hut, most of them drunk, all enjoying the occasion. There was something unbearably revolting about an Englishman in at the destruction of another man. They would turn out in hundreds to see a man hanged, and today they would wait an age in order to see poor Isok shamed before them all. Cryspyn felt sick. The thought of Isok being led away from that place like a felon, when his only crime was that God had decided that he had married the wrong woman, was horrible.

Cryspyn took a deep breath and beckoned his servant for a sip of wine from his mazer. He had need of it today. The last few days had been appalling. First there was the gather-reeve’s death, then Luke’s, and now Isok was being slowly destroyed and there was nothing Cryspyn could do to help him.

There were few things he was sure of now, but he felt certain that his time here on the islands must soon be over. He must petition the Abbot and the Bishop to be released from his duties. He should find a quiet hermitage or priory where he could go as an ordinary Brother, somewhere he could leave all this death and blood far behind.

‘Prior!’

The cry came from near his hall’s main door, and he rose stiffly to his feet. Emptying his mazer, he passed it to his servant before walking slowly to the door. When he was no more than halfway there, it was thrown open, and William pelted in, his face red and sweating. ‘Pirates! We must have a ship to catch them!’

Baldwin had told William to go straight to the priory, while he himself ran along the path which led to Tedia’s home. When he saw
it was empty, Baldwin carried on up the roadway, until near the middle of the vill he saw a large crowd standing about. Clearly this was where the trial was being held.

Even as he drew closer, the door opened, and Isok stalked out, followed by two women. Baldwin recognised Brosia and Mariota.

‘Well? Come on, women, how was he?’ shouted a voice.

‘Did you get his tower to rise?’

‘Or has it been undermined?’

The laughter which greeted each weak sally was uproarious, and Baldwin suddenly found his path obstructed by men and women moving forward to speak to Isok or the women. Brosia refused to talk, but marched giggling to her husband, whom she clutched with a firm embrace and kissed more passionately than Baldwin thought entirely natural. He shoved men from his path and tried to reach David, but the press was growing. ‘Let me through!’ he roared. ‘Let me through, you festering, fly-blown cakes of bull’s shit!
Let me pass!
’

It was so unsettling, having no sword. At least he had the flimsy dagger which he had taken from Walerand yesterday. That was something.

‘Baldwin!’

Suddenly he was aware of Tedia. She stood nearby, her eyes gleaming, a smile on her face. ‘Poor Isok,’ she said.

‘Damn him!’ Baldwin cried. ‘There are pirates here. They’ve been sheltering in a harbour north of St Elidius, and now they’re making good their escape.’

‘What do you want us to do about them, love?’ she asked.

‘All who have ships must chase them! They are the ones who attacked the
Anne.
While they live, no vessels are safe about here.’

‘
That’s the one!
’

Baldwin suddenly found his arm being gripped, and he snatched it away. It was taken again, less gently, and he turned to glower at a thick-set villager with gnarled skin and a bush of gingerish beard. ‘What?’

‘It’s you took his wife, isn’t it? You took Tedia. Now he’s like this, and it’s all because of you.’

Baldwin
was stunned. He shot a look at Tedia. Her face had fallen, and she shook her head. ‘He only got here three days ago!’ she protested. ‘Isok’s not made himself my husband since we married …’

‘But this is the man you wanted, wasn’t he?’ the man said.

Already a small crowd was gathering about them; Baldwin looked around to see David, but the faces all about them were too thick for him to see past them. ‘Let me go, I have to speak to David.’

‘Yes, of course you do!’ the man sneered.

Another one said, ‘He’s an adulterer, let’s take him out to the felon’s rock.’

The suggestion seemed to meet with general approval. There were several offers of a boat to carry him, then more said that they’d prefer to hang him. One was all for castrating him first, a proposition which appeared to meet with general approval.

All at once Baldwin found his arms grabbed. He managed to free his left arm, and reached for the dagger, but he could only touch the hilt before his hand was pulled away and the knife removed from its sheath. He was lifted, his feet off the ground, as men took hold of his limbs, and he was taken inexorably down the path towards the beaches.

Over the heads Baldwin could see David, and he bellowed for help as loudly as he could, but then he saw that the reeve was watching with a small smile on his face, as though this development was the greatest delight. In that moment Baldwin knew what it was to hate.

‘
Release that man at once!
’

The voice was so ferocious, the bellow seemed to reach beyond mere ears to the souls of the men carrying Sir Baldwin. They released him so swiftly, he was all but hurled to the ground.

He clambered to his feet, aware of Tedia behind him. She was one complication without which he could have lived happily, but he was glad to feel her hand in his as the white-faced figure of Cryspyn appeared, shaking with rage. Baldwin thrust Tedia to safety behind him when he saw the man with the ginger beard glowering, but Cryspyn’s roar stilled them all.

‘How
dare
you manhandle this knight! How
dare
you lay hands upon him! He is here as our guest, and you threaten to kill him? Any man who touches so much as a hair from his head shall know the full depths of my ire!’

‘Yes, stand back, you churls,’ David yelled. He was close now, and he marched swiftly to the Prior’s side. ‘You shouldn’t treat an honoured guest like a felon.’

‘Baldwin!’ he heard whispered, and felt the hilt of a dagger being pressed into his hand. Tedia trusted David as little as he did.

He took it, and squeezed her hand again, then shoved it into his belt as he stepped forward to Cryspyn.

The Prior was not waiting for him. ‘David, you must ready your boats instantly! There is a ship over there. William and this knight saw it as it set sail. It had been harbouring there, up at An-Voth, behind the rocks, and now it’s heading away.’

‘What of it?’ David said. ‘Let them go.’

Baldwin grated, ‘They were the pirates who attacked my ship.’

‘Then you go after them,’ David said loftily.

Baldwin was tempted to pull out his dagger, but even as he considered punching this arrogant reeve to the ground, he heard more shouting: war cries!

‘Blancminster! Blancminster!’

Simon felt the ship thud into the harbour piles and then the men began to leap over the side and race up to the vill.

They had circled around the northern edge of St Nicholas, out of sight of the Priory and the vill, and now the sailors and men-at-arms were in a state of excited tension as they poured from the vessel. Simon waited until most had already gone, then reached back, grabbed Hamo by the shoulder, and jumped over the side.

For some strange reason, Simon felt the tension leave him as he pelted off with the others. There was no shouting or singing, only the slap of bare feet or boots on the dusty track, the rattle and clatter of the weapons, and the hiss of men breathing through clenched teeth.

They ran on, Ranulph and Thomas towards the front, while Simon remained nearer the rear. Hamo was running lightly like a
nervous sheepdog, constantly on the lookout for a fox or wolf, his feet scarcely seeming to touch the ground. In comparison Simon felt heavy and flat-footed. Seeing a bush, Simon all but hurled the lad at it. Hamo landed heavily, but as Simon watched, he squirmed and disappeared.

They passed by a great sweep of sandy beach, then on down, faster all the way, the blood up and rushing in their ears as they went, until at last they saw the cluster of men and women ahead of them.

Still on they rushed, silently, men pulling their lips back and baring their teeth. Simon could feel the concentration here: some wanted money, some wanted women, but most wanted revenge against the pirates who had plagued them. All the sailors had experienced their predations, and the men-at-arms were content to be able to join in a legal fight. They had no interest in the deeper issues at hand.

Walerand was one of the few who appeared less eager to be in at the start, Simon noticed. He was dropping back a little, glancing about him as he did so, as though he was looking for someone. And then he caught Simon’s eye and stopped falling back. Simon allowed him to draw nearer. They were at the rear of the whole host now. Suddenly Simon dropped to his knees, head hanging as though winded. As he looked up, he could see the shadow of Walerand standing over him.

‘So what were you doing last night, Bailiff? Letting your friends go free?’ Walerand hissed. ‘I think that’s worth a shilling or two.’

‘What?’ Simon gasped.

‘You give me your purse and I won’t tell Thomas that you released Sir Charles last night.’

Simon had time to wonder. The damned fool could have ruined everything and seen to Simon’s destruction, but like the adder he was, he wanted profit before he divulged anything. It made Simon shake his head as he collected a handful of sand. ‘Very well,’ he wheezed, and hurled the sand upwards.

There was no need for a sword. He reached out and yanked Walerand’s ankle away. The man fell clumsily, and Simon chopped him quickly across the windpipe, then while he choked, Simon
bunched his fist and hit him as hard as he could behind the ear. Walerand started to snore, mouth gaping wide.

It was one thing to have to watch the man in front in a fight, but quite another to have to worry about your comrades on either side or behind you, Simon reflected as he tore off after the others.

Sir
Charles delicately poked a foot at the water. He had his tunic lifted above his knees, and he stepped cautiously forward. Suddenly he yelped with alarm as he slipped into a hole. ‘What?’ he demanded, reddening.

‘Nothing, Sir Charles,’ Paul said, straight-faced.

‘You are fortunate that I have known you for so many years, my fellow,’ Sir Charles said before turning back to face the water. ‘This is extraordinary. We arrive here, thinking that we are on the correct island, only to discover that it is separated from the one we need, and all the people we expected are
there
, not
here
, and then my incomparable companion manages to forget to tie up the boat we need to reach the damn place.’

‘It wasn’t my fault. I thought you’d have done that,’ Paul objected.

‘Did I say that I would do so? I do not recall any such words passing my lips. No, I think it is usually the servant who is expected
to tie up the boat.
’