Michael Jecks - The Templar, the Queen and Her Lover

‘Mad?’

‘He met Paul after Paul had been beaten, and saw an easy target. Perhaps he felt in the right. He was, after all, a man who was committed to the upholding of justice. He saw his own job as being just that: to punish those who stepped outside the law.

If he found someone wandering the streets late at night, he may have felt that killing him was justified.’

‘Where is this murderer?’

‘He is in the chapel now, dead.’

But even as he said it, Baldwin was wondering who the man was who was lying there with him. The man whom Baldwin had prevented from killing Arnaud.

Saturday following Good Friday 23

Baldwin and Simon were about early, walking in the yard, when they saw Ricard and Charlie. Janin and Philip were nearby, playing idly on their instruments, and Charlie was dancing, crouching low, then springing up to his full height. He clearly thought he was leaping high into the air, but in reality his feet never left the soil. Meanwhile his right arm moved back and forth like Janin’s, up and down, up and down.

‘Ricard,’ Baldwin said as they passed. ‘Be very careful of him. There are some, I believe, who may want to hurt or kill him.’

‘What, Charlie?’ Ricard said with amazement. ‘You said that before — but who’d want to hurt him?’

‘I think it was he they wanted to kill when his mother and father died,’ Baldwin said.

Leaving Ricard staring after them with horror, Simon and Baldwin continued on their way to the Queen’s rooms. There was a specific location, to the left of her door, which was perfectly positioned to catch the morning sun. As it crept up over the outer curtain wall, the light first struck the great hall’s wall and then slipped past and hit here, and by the time the two friends reached the spot they were in the full glare of the morning sunshine. It was delightful to be able to sit and absorb a little of it.

‘You see, Simon, I think that the killings, both those in England and the ones here in France, all have the same root. And I believe that all have been ordered by the same agency.’

‘One man killed all of them?’

‘Not necessarily — although it is possible. However, one man has, I think, ordered them all killed.’

Baldwin was silent suddenly, peering across the yard, and when Simon looked in the same direction, he saw Earl Edmund strolling about. ‘Him?’ Simon asked.

‘No. I do not think so. There are some aspects which I still find confusing, though. Let us speak to him.’

The Earl was glad to be called. He had spent much of the previous night musing over his actions in the past, wondering what he might achieve in the future. All in all, it was a depressing reflection.

After the farcical war in Saint-Sardos, when he had been summarily ejected from Guyenne by the French forces, he had been treated with contempt and disdain by the King his brother. Despenser had placed him in an impossible position, refusing to respond to his urgent pleas for resupply of men and matériel, until his forces had been destroyed. Since then, the King had made it clear that he was not welcome at court, and he had begun to do all he could to ruin Despenser. Not that he had met with much success.

Coming here to France to bring messages for the Queen had seemed a good idea at first, but since getting here he’d started to wonder whether the Despenser had an ulterior motive in suggesting that he should come. Perhaps it was part of his scheme to remove him from the King’s household for a while so that Sir Hugh could plot something else to embarrass him. And then again, maybe it was to make sure that Edmund would have a chance to meet Mortimer.

When dealing with a man like Despenser, it was hard to see where his mind was going. All too often, you only learned what he had planned for you when his plan came to fruition, and you found to your disadvantage that he had succeeded.

It was a welcome interruption to his musings when he saw Sir Baldwin stand and bow in his direction. The invitation was plain enough, and he nodded and made his way to join the pair.

‘Good day to you, Sir Baldwin. Bailiff.’

‘My lord, would you mind if we asked you some questions?’

‘I do not think so. It will distract me.’

‘You are troubled?’

‘I have matters that concern me.’

‘Tell me, you met the musicians in London originally, did you not?’

Earl Edmund shuddered. ‘I did.’

‘My lord earl, they have told us about that, and I have to advise you that they did not kill the man and woman in Lombard Street. But tell me, what were you doing there yourself?’

‘I wanted to persuade them to join the Queen’s entourage, but when I got there and found the bodies, I was not sure …’

‘Who suggested them to you?’

‘It was Jack. I knew that he was a member of Mortimer’s group, and he told me that he had checked out the men. However, he assured me that they’d not killed …’

‘They did not,’ Baldwin said with certainty.

‘I didn’t think they had. It was clear that they were appallingly hungover, and when I found them, all were sleeping out in the yard. If they had murdered the people of the house, they wouldn’t have gone to sleep in the rain outside, would they? Anyway, just from their reaction it was plain to me that they didn’t do it.’

‘Who did, then? They all thought it was you.’

‘Me? Ha. No, the couple were dead when I got there.’

‘Who, then, told you to go there?’

‘Sir John de Sapy. He was helping me, and he said that I should meet the musicians there.’

‘Sir John?’ Simon blurted. ‘But he’s no friend to you! He’s with Despenser.’

‘Sir John? But I trusted him!’ Earl Edmund’s face transformed into a grimace of disgust. ‘That prickle has snared John as well? Is there no one immune to his infection? Dear Jesus !’

‘I thank you for your honesty,’ Baldwin said. ‘But I fear that there is little you can do to protect yourself against the man. He has an astonishing ability to cause mayhem wherever he goes.’

‘You hardly need to tell me that.’

It was at the middle watch of the day when Père Pierre arrived at the château and asked mildly whether he could see Sir Baldwin.

‘Sir Baldwin, the King has asked me to come here and answer your questions.’

The knight was unable to conceal his feelings. His eyes were bright with anger as he took in Pierre’s features, but the priest met them without blinking. He had no need to concern himself with this man’s feelings. His duty was to a higher master.

‘You are Père Pierre from Pamiers?’ the knight asked him.

‘Well, I originally come from a little way outside. My family name is Clergue. But I became known as “Pamiers” because that is where I worked with my dear bishop, Jacques Fournier. We were there for some years.’

‘What were you there?’

‘A clerk. I was set the duty of saving the souls of heretics. Have you heard of the Waldensians?’

A second man, whom he recognised as the bailiff, had joined them now, and was leaning against a wall with his arms folded. He shook his head, and Baldwin had to explain.

‘They followed a man called Waldes, who came from Lyons, I think. He was a little insane. He wanted the Bible translated into the common tongue so all could understand it. Preachers took up his teaching and began to spread his words.’

‘Yes. They were all snared by his foul lies. He wanted to destroy the Church. So the Pope had no choice, and declared all those who followed his teachings to be heretics. Jacques Fournier and I went down to Pamiers to bring men back to their senses.’

‘Tell me: how many were fortunate enough to die in the process?’ Simon asked nastily.