Michael Jecks - The Templar

‘I don’t know what she said about things,’ Simon said pensively, ‘but I’ll tell you this: she was glad to get that story off her chest. If anything happens to her now, it’s this knight who’ll suffer for it. No one else would be considered.’

‘No. I wonder what parts of the story were true?’

‘The sleeping with a pilgrim was true. The flush that came to her face was genuine, or I’m a peasant. After that, I don’t know what she was talking about, but the anger and fear in her eyes when she looked at this knight was real, I’d reckon. She looked terrified, and obviously believed that her maid had been murdered by him — if she believed that story about the blackmail.’

‘Yes, but do we believe it?’ Baldwin said, glancing at Don Ruy de Benavente again.

‘If I could understand a word of what was being said, I’d be able to advise. As it is, though, how the hell should I know?’ Simon groused. ‘You twitter on with these others so quickly, I don’t know what’s going on.’

‘Do you need help, Masters?’ asked a new voice.

Baldwin turned round. ‘Good day to you Matthew. I think that the short answer to that is “Yes”, but we can’t ask for it just now. The girl who was murdered was apparently carrying a large sum of money, and we are trying to find it.’

‘You think he might have it?’ Matthew asked, staring at Don Ruy.

‘Stranger things have happened,’ Baldwin chuckled and watched as the beggar moved off again among the crowds. When he turned back to Simon, his expression was pensive. ‘You are right — this is nothing to do with us. Perhaps I should simply tell that to Munio and leave the whole thing to him.’

‘Just ask Don Ruy: did he try to demand money?’

Baldwin shrugged and did so.

‘Me? Of course not!’ the man snapped, his patience gone. ‘I certainly saw her in flagrante with that peasant Parceval, the nasty little man from Flanders, but I wouldn’t dream of demanding money from her. Why, I wouldn’t do that to the lowliest serving girl, let alone a Prioress — if she is one! She says she is, but she behaved more like a whore from Malpertugio ! I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that she is less honourable than she avows. I saw her, after all, with her legs spread as wide as a whale’s mouth, ready to engulf any man who came near. It was just the bad luck of the peasant that she caught him.’ He laughed briefly. ‘Snared like a man in a bear trap.’

‘You mentioned Malpertugio — the “Evil Hole” of Naples where they have the fleshpots,’ Baldwin said. ‘You have been there?’

‘A few times. It’s a fine city. I don’t go to the Malpertugio myself, of course.’

‘Of course not,’ Baldwin said suavely. ‘Yet the Prioress was engaged in that form of entertainment.’

‘And not as an unwilling victim as she pretends,’ Don Ruy stated. ‘She was enthusiastic as hell. In fact, I didn’t realise that she was the Prioress. When I walked in on them, she was underneath him with her head towards me, and seeing a naked woman upside down … well, it’s not so easy to recognise someone you hardly know. It was only later I realised who it was.’

‘Why? Did you wait and see who came out of the room?’

‘No, of course not! As soon as my eyes had accustomed themselves to the light and I realised what they were up to, I left them to it. Not knowing who it was, I had no interest. It was merely two adults rutting in a shed. No, I only realised the next day, when I heard the Prioress’s maid talking to another girl. They were giggling about it. I suppose all servants when they are alone laugh about the peccadillos of their masters and mistresses. It must amuse them no end.’

‘And you thought you might be able to take advantage of her yourself?’ Baldwin suggested.

‘No! I am here on pilgrimage, not to fornicate!’

His outrage seemed unfeigned. Baldwin shot a look at Simon, but his friend was merely gazing at the two of them with an expression of bemusement. ‘So what then? The Prioress says you tried to blackmail her. You say you did not. She says you demanded to see her yesterday, you say you did not. Yet you were there at the place where this woman died. Tell me, why did you follow her? To demand sex?’

‘I am a pilgrim,’ Don Ruy said steadily. ‘I do not need to explain myself to you or to anyone.’

‘No, but it might be easier if you were to do so. Perhaps I could see your pass? You have authorisation from your master to undertake the pilgrimage?’

‘I see no need to show you or anyone else my credentials!’

‘Very well. I shall mention this conversation to the Pesquisidor and leave the matter there.’

‘I am not scared by your threats.’

‘It is not a threat,’ Baldwin said, bored with his prevarication. ‘It is merely that I seek to assist the officer of the law in this city. If there is something he should know, I will tell him — it is my duty. You admit that it is suspicious that a woman of the cloth appears to believe you were blackmailing her; that her maid went, so she thought, to see you, and was murdered; and that all her money is gone. And you admit that you followed after the woman, but can’t tell us much about what you were doing. Can you really be surprised that I think you would do well to explain yourself?’

‘I am innocent of this crime!’ Don Ruy declared, but then appeared to reconsider. Reluctantly he slipped a hand into the bulky purse that dangled on his belt. ‘I am unfairly accused — an innocent man, but you seem determined to expose my shame. Here, read this.’

He passed a parchment to Baldwin, who took it up. He turned to Simon. ‘This says that he was found guilty of raping a woman in Ghent in Flanders.’

Simon stirred and eyed the man intimidatingly. ‘He’s a rapist? And the dead maid was raped, wasn’t she?’

‘Yes,’ Baldwin agreed, reading. ‘And he was sent on this pilgrimage to make amends for his crime.’

Don Ruy understood some of their words and now he burst into an angry denunciation of his conviction, but Baldwin had to hold up his hands to slow the torrent. ‘Don Ruy, please speak more slowly. Let me translate for my friend here.’

‘The woman I was accused of raping was in fact my wife,’ Don Ruy said heatedly when Baldwin motioned to him to continue, and pulled a second page from his purse. While Baldwin studied it, Don Ruy continued, ‘The accusation was a false one, designed to embarrass me and prove that my marriage was null. I was accused of abducting her and raping her, but she was a willing lover for me, and it was her father, who sought to ruin my reputation, who deliberately brought me to this farce.’

After relaying his words to Simon, Baldwin said, ‘This second sheet confirms your marriage to the woman. So you deny the rape?’

‘Of course! But the court chose to ignore my statement. The Bishop himself told me to leave and undertake the pilgrimage.’

‘Why the Bishop?’

‘I was in his service. The matter was an embarrassment to him.’

Baldwin sipped at his wine. ‘I fear that the officers of this city would be keen to know all this. Yet you cannot tell me exactly what you were doing yesterday, so that I can clear you of the murder.’

‘I was alone. What else do you want me to say? I didn’t try to blackmail anyone, I haven’t raped anyone, and I certainly didn’t murder that girl or steal any money. It’s ridiculous to suggest any such a thing!’

‘Ridiculous or not, it is what Dona Stefania has claimed. Word of her accusation may well reach the ears of the Pesquisidor , and if it does, he may decide that you should be held here for trial. The word of a noble Prioress in a religious city like this could be enough to see you hanged.’