Michael Jecks - The Outlaws of Ennor

He reached the port, and collected the records of the items sold from the ship. Some were personal effects of the sailors who had lived on her, while others were items of equipment which were listed for sale. So far as Thomas was concerned, the ship could be sold for the profit of the master of the islands. He might make a little himself, too, of course.

William was at the harbour, pushing his little flock away from his church with a bellowing laugh. ‘Go on, clear off! I want my breakfast. Where can I go for my ale this fine morning?’ When he saw Walerand, he stiffened noticeably. ‘What do you want?’

‘None of your business,’ Walerand said haughtily. ‘I’m engaged on business for my master.’

‘Glad to hear it. Wouldn’t want to think you were here just to steal odds and sods from the ship,’ the priest said.

‘You shouldn’t joke about things like that. Some of us have important work to do.’

‘Imp-? You don’t mean they’ve put you in charge of the pigs at last?’ William said, goggle-eyed.

Walerand’s face darkened. ‘You watch your tongue, Priest; you’re not so important that I can’t take you apart. Learn respect, or others’ll beat it into you.’

‘You’ll not hurt me?’ William said with a tremulous voice, a hand on his heart. ‘You wouldn’t hit me, would you?’

‘Take that leer off your face, you fat bastard.’

He had stepped forward, a fist clenching, but William’s expression hardened as his own hand dropped away to lie at his side, leaving him apparently defenceless.

Walerand realised that the man wanted him to thump him, and the thought was confusing. The piss-pot priest should have retreated in fear, but he stood his ground, waiting, like a man who was happy to be clobbered.

As William had said to Simon, the thought of Walerand as gather-reeve was appalling. The fool was always swinging his fists whenever he thought that his victim was weaker than himself, and woe betide any woman who agreed to share his bed, because all too often she’d end up with a black eye or worse. William had often had cause to curse him, when he was helping some poor girl from one of the taverns who had been beaten up by the youth. An arrogant man was always a problem, William reflected, but a fool with power was worse.

Which was why he was determined to show Walerand to be a liability before he could do any real damage to William’s flock — and the easiest way to do that was by provoking him. If the cretin attempted to lash out, he’d get what was coming to him. William knew that, out of the two of them, he was the stronger, the faster, and the heavier: and once he’d ground Walerand’s face into the dirt, he would parade him along the streets of La Val, so that the vill’s population could laugh at him and see that he wasn’t so dangerous, after all. It would take a braver man than Walerand to remain, after that. It would take a more foolish man than Ranulph to try to impose his will through such a broken reed, or to try to punish William for defending himself. Any man setting hands upon a priest was on very dangerous ground. The Bishop would have Ranulph excommunicated.

Sadly, though, he could see that his wish had become clear to the new gather-reeve — or maybe Walerand was less stupid than he thought.

Walerand stood back, his lip curling with contempt, and then he spat viciously at the ground by William’s foot.

‘Yes, Priest, I’m in charge now, and don’t think people will get away with what Robert used to allow,’ Walerand said curtly.

‘Then we’ll have to see to it that you’re not in charge for long, Master Walerand,’ William said under his breath as he made his way back to the church, all thoughts of ale and food gone.

Initially, hearing that she was Tedia’s aunt, Baldwin was delighted to be introduced to Mariota. He was less than happy to see how she glanced at him, as though he was a small but poisonous insect which had crawled out from beneath a stone.

‘I want to talk to my niece,’ she said as soon as she arrived.

Tedia said, ‘I am pleased to-’

‘Not here. What if your husband should arrive? Come with me. You stay here, Sir Knight.’

Baldwin was nothing loath to remain. Here, he could see the whole sweep of the great pool of water which lay between the islands, and the sight of it all, with occasional craft sailing by, was delightful. He lay back, his hands behind his head. These islands, he told himself, were captivating.

He was still there when a monk appeared, trotting along the sands. His sandals were too small, his robes too large, for him to have been anything other than a novice, and Baldwin gave him a tolerant smile as he drew closer. ‘A pleasant day, Brother. Godspeed!’

‘My friend, are you the shipwrecked knight?’

‘I am. How may I serve you?’

‘It is not me, but my Prior. I understand that you are experienced in dealing with the dead? There is a body my Prior should appreciate your advice on. It’s the body of a priest, a man who was apparently murdered recently. Could you help us?’

‘Of course,’ Baldwin said, his eyes going to the two women. Tedia was animated, her hands and arms moving, while Mariota appeared more calm and unruffled. ‘Where is this body?’

‘It is over on the mainland. You must come now … there is a boat waiting for you.’

‘I must give my farewell to the lady who saved my life,’ Baldwin said, quietly but firmly.

‘If you are sure,’ the monk said, but the look he gave Tedia told Baldwin that he held islanders in scant regard.

That disrespect annoyed Baldwin considerably. He made a point of hurrying up the sands to the two women. To his surprise, he saw that Tedia had been weeping afresh. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked, concerned.

‘Yes, yes. It’s just scandal and slander, that’s all. People can be such arses!’

‘That is certainly true,’ Baldwin said with a chuckle. ‘Tell them where to go. Tedia, I have to leave for a while. There is a body found on another island, and the Prior has asked me to view it. If I go now, I should be back here before dark. I will return as soon as I can.’

She nodded dumbly, and only as he saw Mariota’s dark eyes turn to him did he realise that he had sounded more like a husband or lover than grateful shipwreck. The quick guilt made him flush; he had shamed Tedia before her aunt, and he had also abused the memory of his own wife. Jeanne might be many miles from here, but he had caused her an affront, whether she would ever know it or not. By taking this woman he had insulted his wife. He had forever altered the relationship that he had with her. A concealed line had been crossed, and he could never return over it.

What made the guilt still more poignant was the shame on Tedia’s face as she dropped her eyes. He had managed, with a few thoughtless words, to remind himself of his own dishonour as well as the treachery Tedia had shown to her own husband, and he had done so publicly in front of Tedia’s aunt. At that moment he swore to himself that he would never again cause her to be shown up. Nor would he perform another action which could lead to the humiliation of his wife. He couldn’t do that to either woman.

He loved them both.

With a feeling of sadness, he took his leave of the two women and walked back down to where the priest stood waiting.

Later, as he stood in the small boat as it was rowed the short distance to Ennor, he glanced back, sure that he could see Tedia, standing on a projecting rock and watching him as he went.

Cryspyn sighed as he read the document again. He closed his eyes, tapped his forehead with the parchment, and then tossed the annoying thing on to his table, and walked over to the window.

He had known that this would have to happen at some time. The problems with Tedia and Isok were so well-known that it was essential to get the issue sorted out as soon as possible. The question was, if the normal measures failed, what then?