Michael Jecks - The Outlaws of Ennor

Thomas was sitting at his trestle-table, a fine cloth lying over it, reading from notes. In his hand he held a reed, with which he occasionally marked the lists on the parchment. As Simon burst in, he settled back in his chair and smiled welcomingly, the reed twirling slowly in his delicate, agile fingers. It seemed odd to Simon, used to the ways of lords and knights in England. He knew that most would insist that their stewards and sergeants conducted all their business in public in the main hall — but then the hall here was a very much smaller one than most. It would have been difficult for a man to concentrate in there. Perhaps it was necessary for Thomas to have this little chamber to himself.

Simon blurted out, ‘My ship! It’s been saved! I have to see it and learn who survived!’

‘Ah!’ Thomas smiled and carefully set his reed down. He steepled his fingers. ‘There is no one aboard now. All have left.’

‘What? The ship was empty when you found it?’ Simon asked, astonished. He had expected that at least one or two sailors might have survived.

‘Not quite empty, no,’ Thomas said, glancing indifferently at the table before him. ‘Some men were there. They threatened my lord Blancminster, so they will be kept in his gaol until they can pay for their freedom.’

‘Who is among them?’ Simon asked eagerly.

‘There are some sailors, a man calling himself Sir Charles, and another who professes to be his squire.’

‘My Gracious God! That is indeed good news,’ Simon burst out delightedly. ‘You may release them, they are honourable men.’

Thomas’s eyes took on a steely look. ‘I am afraid I cannot, Bailiff. This “Sir Charles” actually drew a weapon and threatened the Lord of the Manor. He is being held until my master decides what to do with him. It is a serious business, threatening a man in his own manor.’

Simon had been about to leap for the door and seek out his friend. Now he felt as though he had been punched about the head. It was terrible to think that he had lost his oldest friend, Baldwin, and now that he had found that a more recent acquaintance was still living, he wanted to rush to see him. To find that although he was alive, Sir Charles was to remain a prisoner, was appalling. ‘Surely there is some mistake. Perhaps I could speak to him and-’

‘I hardly think that will be necessary. In any case, there are other matters which are more important right now.’ Thomas smiled again and indicated the papers before him.

‘My friends are locked in gaol, and you say there are more important issues?’

‘Yes. There was a murder on the night of the storm, Bailiff. Robert, our gather-reeve, was attacked out on the sands. Until we learn who was responsible and see him pay for his offence, there will be little enough interest in any other issue.’

Thomas picked up his reed again, and dipped it into a pot of ink before scratching a note on a list of taxes paid. Simon watched him with a slight frown. ‘You clearly know that the men on board the ship must be innocent of anything to do with that. They were trapped at sea, man!’

‘All I know, Bailiff, is that a man was killed at the same time as a ship appears.’

‘You aren’t suggesting that my companions could have had anything to do with it, surely?’

‘I’m not suggesting anything, Bailiff. For all I know, it could have been you yourself.’ When Thomas saw the bailiff’s face flush with a quick anger, it was hard to control his amusement. Thank goodness for men who were so easy to read, he thought. It made his job so much simpler.

‘You seriously suggest that I or my companions might have killed this man?’ Simon snarled. He moved forward slowly, a figure of menace. ‘You are mad — or a fool!’

Thomas set his reed on his table once more and studied him. ‘I am an officer, Bailiff. What of you? If strangers appeared suddenly and a man was murdered, what would you think?’

‘I’d think of who might have a reason to desire his death. I wouldn’t instantly accuse a stranger,’ Simon rasped.

Thomas let his hand fall into his lap. In front of him, under the table, was a small dagger. He had on occasion found that a small knife could help during more intense business negotiations — or, indeed, the usual discussions with the staff of the castle. ‘Bailiff, perhaps we could come to an arrangement. Why do we not go to witness the Coroner’s inquest? That might prove useful. It could even prove that your friends are innocent. And you , of course!’

‘Very well,’ Simon said coldly. ‘And in the meantime, I should like to visit my companions.’

‘Perhaps after the inquest,’ Thomas said smoothly. Then, as the door shut behind a glowering Simon, he was taken with considering the discovery of Robert’s body. Simon could be useful, he thought. The bailiff could investigate the murder and his testimony would be accepted. He must find the murderer, and leave others in peace. Thank God that most people were so easy to manipulate, he thought contentedly. He had no desire to be personally suspected himself.

The thought soon faded and he tapped his teeth with the reed as it was replaced with his overriding concern: where the devil was his ship?

Baldwin found the island of St Nicholas quite extraordinary. The first thing that struck him was how flat it was. To the western end of the island was a large part which was called, so Tedia told him, Breyer, or the ‘place of hills’ in her tongue. It was connected to the rest of St Nicholas by a low-lying strip of land which could be smothered by water when the tides rose more highly than normal, he learned, just as was the narrower sand bar between St Nicholas and St Sampson.

‘There are stories that the whole of this was once one large island,’ she said as they stood at the tip of the finger of land that pointed towards Ennor.

‘What of all that water?’ Baldwin said with a smile, nodding towards the great expanse of sea between the islands.

‘Perhaps it was the flood? Luke was speaking about that last year. He said that the waters covered all the earth.’

‘Yes,’ Baldwin agreed. All knew of Noah. The thought of being here when the seas rose was chilling. He could hardly imagine what it must have been like for the islanders so long ago. So far from the mainland, there would have been no chance of escape.

Standing here, on a slightly higher spot, he had a curious view of the rest of the islands. They were, today, quite beautiful. The sea was a glorious blue, graduated from paleness nearer the shores, to a deep dark blue farther away, and the sun was making the wave-tops sparkle as though each held a tiny mirror. The breeze was cool, but not unpleasant, bringing with it the odour of the kelp-pits where seaweed was dried for burning.

Here, in the midst of this peaceful water, lay the low shapes of the islands. Baldwin asked Isok what they were all called, but the man spat at the ground and ignored him. If he had his sword, Baldwin could have been tempted to reach for it, but instead he turned to Tedia again.

She was keen to help. Her pleasure in showing off her islands was like that of a child who prattles on about a favourite toy. There could be no doubt that Tedia was entirely happy here, and her pleasure was delightful. With her parted lips and bright eyes, she was perfect. A beautiful face, slim and strong body, elegant in movement as an Arab horse, she had the carriage of a lady. If only Baldwin was a few years younger and unmarried, he would be tempted to try to tumble her, he thought, forgetting the presence of her husband for a moment, as he also forgot the lack of a sword on his hip.

‘That one, that’s Bechiek, then there’s St Theona, that small hill there, and up there is St Elidius, where Luke preaches, and between us and them is Arwothel, that long island. This is St Nicholas, of course, and that’s Ennor, where the Lord of the Islands has his castle.’