The Templar's Penance: (Knights Templar 15) (22 page)

But there were no words foul enough to suit Hellin van Coye. Parceval waved at the wine-seller and acquired a fresh horn, paying with a gold coin. In his distraction, he waved the man away without checking his change, and realised later that he had given the potman more than enough for three jugs, and although he felt annoyed to have wasted money, he had plenty more. No, the only thing that concerned him was that others shouldn’t realise how much cash he carried with him. That was a real problem. He didn’t want people to even remotely suspect that he was no more a scruffy peasant than the Bishop was. Hellin had friends all over the world, and one of them might take it upon himself to ensure that Hellin’s murderer didn’t
have to worry himself about the return trip to Ypres.

He would protect himself against any attacker, he vowed, surreptitiously fingering his knife’s hilt. As he repeated his oath to himself, his gaze drifted over the people in the square and just for one moment, he saw a face staring at him, and he felt as though Hellin’s ghost had paraded in front of him.

It was the face of a man who was looking for someone. Parceval slowly edged backwards, into the shelter of a chestnut tree, and stared fixedly at the point where he had seen the man. No, he was wrong. It had to be a fellow looking for a friend. The face was familiar, anyway. Where had he seen the man before … Aha! It was Gregory, the priest who’d walked with their group from before Orthez. That was all right, then. Phew! There was nothing scary about him, nothing in the slightest.

Parceval felt the worry falling from his back like a weight. For now, he must return to the room he had hired. The woman who owned it was a terrible old harridan, who stared at him as though assuming he was going to walk off with her best bed and blankets. Stupid bloody bitch! Her stuff was adequate, but no more. At least it meant that he had a base.

He stared once again at Gregory. There was nothing wrong with keeping an eye on him, just in case. And if Gregory turned out to be any sort of a threat, he’d break the bloody bastard’s head!

Don Ruy stood with Simon and Baldwin for some while after the Prioress had left them, apparently still in a state of shock from her accusations. At last he surrendered himself to bellows of laughter, sitting and holding his flanks helplessly.

‘She is mad!’ he choked at last, glancing at Baldwin. ‘Does she mean to accuse every man in the city in rotation?’

‘I had thought that she wanted the knowledge of her carnal adventure to remain hidden,’ Baldwin said, gazing after her curiously. ‘It is almost as though she would admit to sleeping with a man in order to deny murder.’

‘Perhaps the thought that a man could have robbed her, and then done away with her maid, has made her so angry, she can only see the immediacy of her need for vengeance.’

‘Perhaps. In the meantime, what would you say of this Ramón?’

‘Him? A grey, unintelligent man, but honourable enough.’

‘Would you think him capable of killing his own lover and taking her mistress’s money?’

‘That is a foul suggestion. I should be unwilling to accuse any knight of such behaviour.’

‘The Doña was happy to accuse
you
.’

‘I know, but I cannot understand. How could she possibly accuse me of such a terrible thing?’

‘She was entirely convinced, I should say,’ Baldwin said. ‘What did you think, Simon?’

‘Me? What do I know?’ Simon said with some asperity. ‘I can’t understand a word you’re saying. But I think this man is more concerned than guilty. He doesn’t look like a felon to me, and if he’s so hard up for money that he needs to blackmail, how on earth did he afford those clothes?’

Baldwin smiled slightly and related the story that Doña Stefanía had told. ‘When she left us, she looked as though she was rushing off to the Cathedral to pray to Saint James, to ask him who had robbed her.’ He then added as an afterthought: ‘And murdered Joana, of course.’

‘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 Doña Stefanía 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.’

Don Ruy said nothing, but stood and inclined his head very slightly. He was about to walk away when Simon, who had caught the gist of Baldwin’s words, interrupted quickly.

‘Don’t let him go yet! Wait, Don Ruy! Let’s say this girl was with her lover. She’s dead now. Did he see someone else there, apart from Frey Ramón?’

Don Ruy listened to Baldwin’s translation. ‘No, I saw no one else. But I wasn’t looking.’

‘So either Ramón killed her himself, or someone else was hiding there.’

‘Like the felon I saw leaving the city,’ Don Ruy muttered.

‘Why did you not try to have him arrested for attacking your band of pilgrims earlier?’ Baldwin wanted to know.

Don Ruy stared at him. ‘You seriously ask that? This man was a felon, on my honour! Yet it would be my word against his. If I were to draw my sword against a man who looked like a local
Galician, I should expect to be captured and hanged for starting an affray in a cathedral city and for insulting Saint James. Look – the man was leaving the city. What purpose would my confronting him have served?’

‘It might have saved the woman’s life,’ Baldwin said coldly. ‘If you are right, and this man killed her.’

Don Ruy flushed. ‘My inclination was to avoid any involvement with women,’ he said, pointedly thrusting the parchments back into his purse.

‘You say the Prioress is mad to accuse Frey Ramón. Yet some men have been tempted by less money.’

‘By that, you mean that Joana
did
intend to rob her mistress? But Frey Ramón is a monk. He has renounced money.’

‘Perhaps,’ Baldwin said, unconvinced. It was possible for any man to grow to desire money – and just as possible for a woman to steal from her mistress to give to her lover. Still, he told himself that there were other possibilities – for example this lopsided-headed felon of whom Don Ruy spoke. If such a creature were to come across a maid carrying a fair sum of money, it would be easy to imagine his stealing it, and getting rid of her afterwards in a brutal way … yet Baldwin still disliked the fact that Ramón had lied to them.