Michael Jecks - The Outlaws of Ennor

‘He was stabbed. It’s easy to guess he didn’t die at his own hand.’

Hearing a sudden intake of breath, Baldwin glanced at the woman. ‘Tedia?’

She could say nothing. She only stood and stared at David in incomprehension, her mouth open, her eyes filled with terror and remorse.

At the same time that Baldwin heard of Robert’s death, Simon, too, heard some news. He had returned to the castle to speak to Thomas after his conversation with Hamadus, and when he entered Thomas’s chamber, was amazed to find himself confronted by the sight of Baldwin’s sword. It lay, unsheathed, on Thomas’s table. A tall, slightly stooped lad was standing beside it, an unpleasant smile on his face.

‘So, Bailiff — returning so soon?’ Thomas asked. ‘And I thought you would be with your companions in the gaol for a good long while.’

That, Simon realised, was a veiled warning. As soon as he had bribed the gaoler, Thomas got to know. ‘I wished to think.’ He couldn’t keep his eyes from the bright blue blade on the table.

‘You recognise this sword?’ Thomas enquired gently. ‘It is a lovely piece of work, isn’t it? It was well covered in grease when we found it, as though it had been prepared for a voyage.’

‘Should I know it?’ Simon asked warily.

‘I don’t know. This was found in the dunes, not far from the body of Ranulph de Blancminster’s tax-gatherer.’

‘And who found it?’

‘Walerand here. He stumbled over it after the body was taken away.’

‘You seem to make a habit of finding things,’ Simon said, eyeing Walerand with distaste. ‘First a corpse, now a sword.’

‘I am lucky, maybe. Or maybe I’m just competent. I know how to find things and please my master.’

‘Perhaps you do!’ Simon agreed, struck with the comment. It made him think afresh about the man in front of him. He didn’t like his thoughts.

‘So, are you sure you haven’t seen this sword before?’

Simon was about to answer when a caution sprang into his mind. This was Baldwin’s sword, as he knew perfectly well, but it also bore the signs of the Templar Order. If he were to declare that it was Baldwin’s, his friend’s memory would be poisoned. Jeanne, Lady Baldwin, could become the target of vindictive comment, and that was not a position in which Simon would willingly put her.

‘Why should I have?’

‘It was found here as you arrived. No one on the island owns a weapon like this. I would know.’ Thomas shrugged, but he had already lost interest. ‘I am sorry. It seems ridiculous to ask you, but sometimes a man who is responsible for affairs of the law must ask foolish things. It’s all a matter of form, you understand. It is a curious weapon, though, don’t you think? And it appeared here, with what looked like blood on the grease used to protect it, as though it had stabbed a man recently. Surely that would prove its use in Robert’s death.’

‘He should have guarded himself,’ the man at the table said harshly.

‘Perhaps, Walerand,’ Thomas said with a hint of weariness in his voice. ‘And perhaps not. Maybe it was my fault for not insisting that he took a guard with him. We can’t afford to lose men like him. He was a good fellow.’

Simon looked at Walerand. He was an unprepossessing sight, scruffy, with the pale skin and eyes of a man who needed more exercise, to Simon’s mind. Then he dismissed him from his mind.

‘Your tax-man would no doubt have had many enemies.’

‘Don’t all tax-collectors?’ Thomas said mildly. ‘Nobody particularly enjoys giving up his money to his lord, no matter who he is.’

‘Perhaps not, but not many take up a sword and murder the gatherer,’ Walerand said. He had noticed the Bailiff’s cursory look, and felt insulted by it. He knew he was better than this Bailiff, and he didn’t care to be snubbed. It was a calculated insult, that’s what it was. He’d show him.

But Simon barely registered that he’d spoken — he scarcely noticed Walerand at all. ‘This man who was killed,’ he said. ‘Perhaps I can help you? I have investigated many murders in Dartmoor, where I deal with such matters for Abbot Champeaux.’

‘It is kind of you to offer,’ Thomas said, eyeing him thoughtfully. ‘Another man’s eye can sometimes see the obvious which is hidden to others.’

‘Do you have any idea when he might have been killed?’ Simon asked.

‘He was alive at the time of the meal here on the day of the storm. I rather think that he went out after eating, and as it grew dark, he was caught, attacked, and then left to die.’

‘And this sword was beside him?’ Simon said after a moment.

Thomas nodded to the man standing at the table. ‘Walerand? Where was it exactly?’

‘About five or six yards from the body. I found it on my way back.’

‘The killer must have attacked Robert, then hurled this away,’ Thomas said.

‘Why? The sword isn’t going to point anyone in the direction of the murderer since no one here knows it,’ Simon observed. ‘He could as well have kept it. If he wanted to conceal it, surely he’d have thrown it in the sea.’

‘Maybe he did. A waterspout is very powerful,’ Thomas said. ‘I have seen one gather up a boat from the sea and hurl it many yards. The men in it were killed, of course. The storm of that night could have plucked the sword from the sea and thrown it back to show us who killed Robert. God works in odd ways.’

‘That’s true,’ Simon agreed, thinking how violent the sea could be. ‘But if the murderer left it there, why should he do that?’

‘Perhaps he was appalled at having killed a man,’ Thomas said solemnly.

There was a moment’s silence. Simon and Walerand both knew that this was a forlorn hope. It was Walerand who finally said, ‘What — a gather-reeve?’

Thomas frowned, but had to accept the validity of the comment. ‘Yes — not many would feel guilt at executing one such as him.’

‘How are the islanders?’ Simon asked. ‘Most peasants and farmers are docile enough even though they dislike paying taxes.’

‘These are different, Bailiff,’ Thomas said heavily; in truth, he believed what he said. ‘The folks of these islands are self-supporting and self-reliant. They don’t realise that they depend upon us to maintain them, they think that they can go their own way. It is ridiculous, of course. They need the castle here at La Val to protect them. Where would they be without the men whom Ranulph supports here? Dead, that is where. They do not realise how dangerous the world can be. If it wasn’t for us, they’d be raided by pirates from the wild north, or Bretons from the mad south. The people feel safe here, so they don’t accept the need to support us. Ridiculous, but there it is.’

‘They are no better than pirates themselves,’ Walerand grunted. ‘Cut-throats and draw-latches, the lot of them. Pox on them, I say. Make them pay more and sooner, so they realise their place!’

So these two thought the same as Hamadus, Simon noted — except these appeared to be talking about Ennor; Hamadus talked of pirates on St Nicholas. He saw Thomas wince.

‘Yes, yes, Walerand, I know your views, but don’t forget that you’re not the only one who has an opinion. So does our Lord, and he says it’s better to maintain them without antagonising them too much. Bear that in mind.’

‘The peasants here are rebellious?’ Simon said.

‘Not exactly,’ Thomas sighed, ‘but certainly they won’t take a bridle with a short rein. They need to have their own head — otherwise you find that they are trying to ride you , rather than the other way about! The islands earn their living from the sea.’

‘I would have expected the men to make their livings from the sea,’ Simon said jokingly.