Michael Jecks - The Outlaws of Ennor

Later the priest had taken Tedia to one side and told her that she was lucky indeed to be winning such a devoted husband. ‘He’s a good man,’ he had said, and then, ‘You should be very happy.’

It was not far from the truth of it. They had been happy. Except for this one fault. Only a little one, Mariota said to her, and in many ways a beneficial one because it saved her from the trials of childbirth, but Tedia knew that she wanted children, and Isok would or could give her none.

So terribly sad. All she wanted was a man in her bed with her. If Isok could be a stud to her, she would be content. Yet he couldn’t. So now she was forced to look elsewhere, and her one lover was dead.

She wondered where Isok was. He ought to be back by now.

During the storm, the sky had been an angry red colour, then black and lighted by flares of lightning, but now it was the normal starry sky she knew so well. Each little star stood out so brightly, she had to wonder what was behind the blackness of the sky. It looked so like small pin-pricks in a sheet of black velvet with a bright light behind to light each hole; she sometimes felt she could touch the material.

Tonight she stared out seawards, wondering where her man was. Normally he would be home by now. No one stayed out to sea too late, in case they might be thrown against a rock hidden in the dark, and although she knew full well that Isok was one of the best mariners on all the islands, she feared that he could come to grief. She was still his wife, and their lives had been shared. If he had been drowned she would regret his passing.

Unless … With a sharp pang of guilt, she realised that if he was going to be staying out for the night, she could perhaps cement her attraction to Baldwin. It was certain sure that he was as attracted to her as she was to him.

She felt her loins melting with the thought. In a moment, she decided, she would turn slowly and stare at him. Baldwin would see her lust: he would be bound to. And if he had any doubts, she would pull off her tunic and show him her whole body. Then she would walk to him slowly, her hands emphasising her womanly perfection, and by the time she reached him, he would be ready for her. She would undress him, pulling his hosen down, and kiss him there, so that he would enter her without difficulty. Yes.

It took her only a few moments to ponder the attraction of this course, and she leaned against the door frame again, rolling her body on it until she was facing the room once more. Licking her lips, she could see the form of Baldwin in the murkiness inside. She cleared her throat, said, ‘Baldwin,’ and then heard his snore.

Thomas finished checking the records of the cargo on the ship and sat back with a smile for a moment or two. Then, again, he began to frown and he glanced at the fading sunlight outside.

Where had David been?

This little haul was perfectly timed to make Ranulph’s life easier. It would all be considered salvage by most folks, but as far as Thomas was concerned, this was a wreck. The fact that it had fallen into his hands was his Lord’s good fortune, and nothing more.

It was a very good thing indeed that Thomas had been here when the ship had been discovered, because otherwise Ranulph would have taken more control of the affair, in which case there might well have been more bodies to bury, rather than the two unwelcome guests sitting in a quieter room in the castle.

Ranulph always wanted to ensure that the least expense was incurred by his manor. To his mind, the law which stated that a wreck was only a wreck if no man, no dog and no cat survived the vessel being cast upon the shore, was enough. The law must be complied with. Sometimes a ship wouldn’t make it to shore, in which case Ranulph and his men would sail out to ‘rescue’ it. Occasionally, when a ship was cast up on the shore, her survivors could be ‘lost’ so as to validate the letter of the law. That was not something Ranulph sought to do, but sometimes his staff would grow over-enthusiastic. The new law of salvage was more humane, and Ranulph was delighted to comply with it, because it saved his involvement in concealed homicides.

Here on Ennor things were more relaxed than in Cornwall. There local lords had to work hard to keep news of shipwrecks hidden, because the earldom’s men might hear of them. The Havener was a crucial member of the Earl’s household, and was targeted on claiming any wrecks, any royal fish, and all the duties owed to him. He was a pest to all ordinary folk living near the sea. Here in the Isles, the Havener had his work cut out. He tended not to bother to come here now because the journey wasn’t worth the effort. In any case, there were ongoing disputes about whether King Edward II or the earldom had the rights of royal fish, and to confuse matters still more, the earldom was now owned by the King’s wife, Isabella of France. No one was too sure who was supposed to gain now, which was why there had been disputes like the one fourteen years ago between William le Poer and Ranulph. Le Poer was the King’s Coroner at the time, and arrived just in time to snatch a whale which had been thrown up by the sea. That was too much for Ranulph, who had the mischievous devil thrown into prison, only releasing him when a hundred shillings had been paid.

Since then, Ranulph didn’t worry too much about exactly how Thomas dealt with people and got the money in. He instructed him to just go ahead and get it. It was rare that he would bother to attend a fresh vessel’s arrival. And now Ranulph had acquired the post of Coroner for himself. It certainly made life easier.

This was a magnificent ship, though. The Anne had a huge hold and plenty of tuns of wine as well as several bundles of cloth tied up into bales and some excellent Spanish metalwork. All in all, Thomas estimated her value to be in the order of one and a half thousand pounds. She would be a great prize, and there was little need to worry about an owner arriving to take the thing back. She was wrecked, and that was how her situation would be reported. The earldom would require some form of payment, but they wouldn’t know how much to claim, and there should be no risks.

His eyes narrowed again. Yes, the Anne was a magnificent catch, but who had trussed and delivered her? David was not in the vill, the Bailiff had said. Where had he been? Leading a small pirate party to attack a merchant ship?

No. Once more Thomas put the idea from him and returned to his papers. There was no point going over the same ground. If David had been out in the storm, no doubt he’d have been overwhelmed by the weather. As it was, there was no news of his death or disappearance.

Once again, the Sergeant’s thoughts turned wretchedly to his main preoccupation: the whereabouts of his own ship. The Faucon Dieu had still not made an appearance. Could that churl David have taken her?

He put the ledgers away carefully and tapped his teeth absentmindedly with a reed. To ease his mind, he pondered the problem of the new tax-gatherer. Of course he could suggest Walerand, as he had already hinted to the young fellow, and that would almost certainly bring in a shilling or two, because Walerand would understand that if he wanted the post, he would have to buy off Thomas first … but there were difficulties.

When all was said and done, Walerand was a gormless fool. He had less intelligence than the average chicken in Thomas’s opinion — and the Sergeant particularly despised chickens. Walerand’s way of ‘persuading’ a peasant to pay up would involve the use of a dagger and probably a hot brand, rather than honeyed words. That was where Robert was so useful. He could coax people into paying. They didn’t like it: no one liked paying taxes; yet they would cough up. The story of how Robert had killed the sailor in the tavern while wearing a smile of sadistic delight, had affected all who met him; but to Thomas’s certain knowledge, the gather-reeve had never had to display his brutality.