Michael Jecks - The Templar, the Queen and Her Lover

‘Well?’ Philip asked.

‘He can play,’ Ricard admitted.

‘Play? He beat the shite out of Peter’s playing. I miss Peter, but God’s teeth!’ Adam contributed. ‘I mean, I’m sorry, butI can’t lie. I miss Peter, but Jack is better than Peter would ever have been. Did you see how fast his drumming was? I couldhardly see the stick in his hand, it was moving so quickly.’

‘Why is he suddenly here?’ Philip wondered.

‘Who cares? We could do with a decent drummer.’

‘Meaning?’

Adam suddenly realised what he had said. ‘Sorry, Philip. No offence meant; I was thinking of him compared with Peter.’

‘You should remember not to speak ill of the dead,’ Ricard said quickly before an argument could erupt.

‘For my money, we shouldn’t take him,’ Janin said.

‘Why?’ Adam demanded. ‘I mean, I’m sorry, but he’s easily the best I’ve heard in a while, and we could do with someone who can pick upa tune that quickly.’

Janin shook his head slowly. ‘I don’t think it’d show much respect for our old companion if we were to replace him so soonafter his death. It hardly shows much feeling for him, does it?’

‘Marg would understand,’ Ricard said. Margaret, Peter’s widow, was sensible enough. She had a good head on her shoulders,and she would know the sort of pressures that were being exerted on them without her husband’s tabor.

‘Marg may, yes — but the problem is not her. It’s him. Jack. Who is he? Where did he come from? He saw us playing, and suddenlyappeared. Just when we lost our main drummer. That to me seems a bit too much of a coincidence.’

‘Oh, come on, Janin!’ Adam scoffed. ‘You trying to tell me that he had some part in killing Peter to join us? Look at us!Who’d want to join in with us unless he was keen on the music? And I have never heard of a man killing a musician to joina band, have you? It’s more normal to join in with some music and see if you fit — just as Jack did just now. No, I say welet him join us. We could do with him, and he’s keen.’

‘Janin?’ Ricard asked. He was watching the hurdy-gurdy player closely.

‘I’m not happy about him. He looks the part, yes, but I just have this odd feeling that he’s not all he makes out to be.’

‘So do I,’ Philip said with a glower at Adam.

‘So it’s two for, two against,’ Adam said.

‘No,’ Ricard said. ‘I agree with Janin. I think we shouldn’t have any new member. And I don’t like the way he just appearedtoday, one day before we leave with the Queen’s party. It seems odd, that. Just think, were something to happen, if he turnedout to be an assassin or something, and tried to kill her, we’d all be taken and tortured as a matter of routine. I don’t want to be crippled because we took a drummer in a hurry.’

‘But he’s the best I’ve heard!’ Adam protested.

‘If he’s so keen to join us, he’ll wait for us to get back. In any case, he may not even want to travel to France. Why shouldhe? He’d probably be more than happy here.’

‘You’ve already introduced him to the Queen,’ Adam pointed out.

‘No. He tagged along while we introduced ourselves. There’s a difference,’ Ricard said. But he hoped the Queen would appreciateit.

Jack the Irishman was waiting outside as they all trooped out, and eyed them briefly before his gaze settled on Ricard.

‘I’m sorry,’ Ricard said. ‘The trouble is, you see, we’re off tomorrow, and the idea of taking on someone new just now isa bit hard. When we’re back, maybe? Look, tell us where we can find you, and we’ll look out for you when we’re back.’

‘Oh, don’t worry. I can find you,’ Jack said, smiling. He shrugged. ‘It’s a pity, though. I like your music. You play witha sense of fun — there aren’t many musicians can do that.’

‘Aye, well. Sorry.’ Ricard was suddenly uncomfortable. This man had the most penetrating gaze of anyone he’d ever met. ‘Right,well, we’d best be off, then. Packing the last odds and sods.’

‘Oh? I thought this was all your stuff,’ Jack said, glancing pointedly at their packs. When his gaze rose to Ricard again,there was a small smile at the edges of his mouth.

‘Goodbye. Godspeed, and maybe we’ll see you when we’re back,’ Ricard said uncomfortably.

Baldwin saw the little group of musicians and a small boy crossing the yard, but thought nothing of them. He was consideringSir Charles’s words and trying to find any comfort he could. There was little enough, he had to conclude. He was riding to a dangerous foreign land with a lord whoseallegiance was probably to the King alone, with two knights who were simple mercenaries who were most likely in the pay ofSir Hugh le Despenser, an evil man whom Baldwin had cause to despise, and with Sir Charles, who would sell his mother, ifhe hadn’t already done so. And all these were with him to protect the Queen, a lady who clearly needed all the aid Baldwincould provide, but was the undoubted enemy of Despenser and was presently as good as estranged from her husband. The onlyreason she was being entrusted with this embassy was that her brother was the French king.

He grunted to himself. It was not the most cheerful of reflections, he told himself. And there was one other aspect to thislitany of woe: his position as a renegade Templar.

In his early years he had been as devout as any pilgrim, and when he was old enough he took a ship and sailed to the HolyLand to protect the last Christian toehold: Acre. He nearly died there, and it was the Templars who rescued him and savedhis life. For that, as soon as he was fit again, he had willingly given his life to the service of the Order. When the Orderwas rounded up on Friday 13 October during the first year of the King’s reign, he had been away on Templar business, and escapedthe mass arrests and torture. As such, he was a renegade, and if found he could be executed immediately.

Ach, it was little enough risk. The Templars had been disbanded eleven years ago; the actual arrests were seven years beforethat. It was very unlikely that anyone would still be about in Paris who could recognise him. The chances were he ran thesame risk of being seen and recognised here in London as in Paris. And if the worst came to the worst, he could rely on theprotection of his letters of safe conduct.

Yet it was true that if a priest in the Church recognised him and denounced him, those letters would become useless. Even if he were to escape arrest in France, he would no longer be safein England. There was nowhere where the long arm of the Church could not reach him.

With that grim thought, he turned to make his way back to his room to prepare for the coming day, only to find himself confrontedby a tall man with laughing dark grey eyes set in a face burned brown by the wind and sun. At first, he could only gape. Then:‘Simon! What on earth are you doing here?’

‘The same as you, old friend. I’ve been summoned to aid you in the journey to France.’

Queen’s cloister, Thorney Island

Blaket was already in the little alcove near the gate when Alicia reached it. In her arms she held a lamb’s shank and a skinof good dark wine, and she proffered her gifts before allowing him to take her in his arms again.

With his face buried in her neck, he said, ‘I hate to think of those musicians being near to you.’

‘I could wish I hadn’t told you about them,’ she replied. ‘It makes you so grim, my heart.’

‘If anyone tries to harm you, I shall stop them,’ he said firmly.

‘Do not worry. The man who tried it wasn’t there.’

‘No?’

‘Apparently he was drowned in the city ditch. De Bouden told me just now. The musicians were considering finding a man totake his place.’