The Tolls of Death: (Knights Templar 17) (43 page)

It was baffling, though. Baldwin detested unexplained events of this nature, and he eyed the clerk with consternation, wondering if he was mad. Yet although the fellow’s eyes were wild, he was sure that the way that the man held his gaze without shame was a proof of pride, and when he sat back, it was as though he was dismissing the company from him. He looked like a swain defending his woman’s honour.

Warin was staring at the priest with a disapproving expression on his face, but without condemnation. ‘I think I know what the note means. I should welcome an opportunity to speak with Adam alone.’

‘You can do so when we have returned to the castle, then,’ Sir Jules said. ‘For my part, I should welcome a rest in front of a fire with a good pitcher of wine in my fist. This matter is finally resolving itself. Sir Baldwin, it’s late today, but I shall hold my inquest tomorrow. Perhaps then I can return to Bodmin,’ he added hopefully.

However, that hope was soon dashed. As they walked towards the castle, Ivo met them near Father Adam’s house. ‘Sir Baldwin?’

‘What?’ he grunted tiredly.

‘I thought you ought to know that the steward has taken a horse and fled the place.’

There was no doubt of the rage felt by Nicholas when he learned that Gervase had fled. His escape from what Nicholas saw as justice was humiliating. It was only after he had spoken to his wife at some length that he had tried to find the man, but by then there was little to be done. Gervase could be many leagues away.

‘I’ll find him,’ Nicholas swore.

‘I hope so,’ Coroner Jules responded. ‘You must raise the Hue and Cry after him. He is a suspect in these murders, after all.’

It was Baldwin who urged a little more calmness, saying they should wait until the following morning before attempting to follow him. ‘He is not a practised horseman, and he will not travel far at night in any case. Better to save ourselves the risk of more broken bones by following him now, when we may take entirely the wrong path. Let us rest well tonight in a warm hall, and chase after him tomorrow, when he’ll have spent a miserable, cold night on the ground, or better, have had no sleep at all.’

‘I prefer to follow him now,’ Nicholas said.

Warin glanced at Baldwin, and nodded. It was his agreement which carried the rest of the men, and all were commanded to be ready at first light. In the meantime Nicholas ordered their meals to be readied so that all would sleep well.

While he marched away to the kitchens, Warin smiled at Baldwin enigmatically.

‘Sir Baldwin, would you speak with me?’ Warin said in a low voice. ‘I would like to consult you on a grave matter.’

They had eaten well, and the hall was growing quieter as men nodded drowsily, basking in the comfortable warmth that only hard work followed by a fire and filled belly can induce.

Beside him, Simon was already asleep, his head resting against the wall, arms crossed over his breast, mouth slack and drooping, making him look rather like a bewildered mastiff. Baldwin himself had not been able to relax. The thought of the murders was preying upon his mind, and he was concerned that the following day’s inquest could well lead to bloodshed. Alexander’s hatred of the men of the castle who might have caused his brother’s death made him fear the worst. ‘Please do so,’ he said as the two left the hall and stood on the small platform at the top of the stairs.

In the open air, Warin seemed to take some time to collect his thoughts. Then he gave the knight a long, serious stare. ‘Sir Baldwin, war is again going to rend our country. You have heard of Mortimer’s escape?’

‘Yes. The whole land is discussing it, either more or less openly,’ Baldwin said suspiciously.

‘A prudent lord will always listen to his people and see what they believe, where their loyalties lie. You would agree?’

‘A prudent lord will ensure that his people are fully aware of his loyalty to the Crown above all else,’ Baldwin said firmly.

His hackles were rising – or maybe it was alarm that stimulated the hairs at the back of his neck. He had a hatred of politics and politicians: he doubted their words, their honour and their integrity, and his purpose was to avoid becoming embroiled in political issues. It could lead to advancement and wealth, but more often it resulted in a swift descent and painful death. He had seen that during the destruction of the Templars, and again when Piers Gaveston, Earl Thomas of Lancaster, and others were executed. Recently the victims had been the Despensers, but now the tables had turned, and the King’s enemies were the very men
who had forced him to exile Hugh Despenser and his father. At such a time the only sensible course was discretion. No man could be blamed for loyalty to his liege-lord.

‘I can’t disagree with that,’ Warin said. He was quiet for a short while, then, ‘Sir Baldwin, I consider you a man of integrity so I shall explain. I have told you that the lord of this manor, my father, Sir Henry, is concerned about the loyalty of his folk. Where he lives at his other manor, in Kent, the people are very antagonistic to our King. There are tales of miracles at the grave of Earl Thomas of Lancaster – had you heard? – and these are giving rise to a feeling that he was wrongly executed. Rebellion is openly discussed in London.

‘My lord is of course devoted to King Edward, but the people are less so. In London there have been many mutterings since 1321, when the King imposed his judicial enquiry. The City is angry because he curtailed their powers. Sir Henry is prudent: he can see troubles, he can hear murmurings of disquiet, and seeks to make sure that he is as well-informed as possible.’

Baldwin said nothing. A man might be determined to be well-advised either to make sure that he could properly support his master, or in order to know when to jump to
another.

‘That is why I am here,’ Warin said. ‘It is also why I went to speak to John at the Temple church, because John is related to Sir Henry’s oldest friend. I sought to learn how the people are feeling down here.’

‘This is very interesting, friend Warin, but …’

‘I’m coming to the point. While I was here, I heard it suggested that John and Father Adam were close – very close. People have suggested that Adam might play the catamite to John. When I mentioned this, John was very alarmed. I need hardly say that he strenuously denied the accusation.’

‘This is not necessarily of any interest to any man but them,’ Baldwin said.

‘I agree. I mention it only to show that the two are very close, as was proved by Adam’s behaviour today.’

‘What of it?’

‘Only this: some seek to foment unrest against our King. John’s family has always been loyal to the King, but his uncle died for Thomas of Lancaster at Boroughbridge.’

‘I know. Roger, the Coroner’s clerk, mentioned it.’

‘Then you’ll understand that if John’s relationship to his uncle came to be bruited abroad, it could be embarrassing. A rebel in my father’s manor would be sure to come to the ears of the King, which is why I ask that you keep this concealed.’

‘You would have me hide a traitor?’ Baldwin rumbled, alarmed. ‘I will not! I am a loyal servant to the King. I shall have no part in concealing this man’s crimes.’

‘He has done nothing. What is his crime?’ Warin asked reasonably, his hands held out palms uppermost. ‘He is related to a rebel, that is all. He’s not seeking to overrule the King.’

‘I am not sure,’ Baldwin said. This was a difficult matter. He needed to consider it carefully, and yet … It was awful to think of John being imprisoned, probably for many years until he was a mere broken shell, and all because of an act by his uncle which may well not have been condoned by him. It stank of the persecution of his Order, and he couldn’t condone putting another innocent through such trials.

Warin saw his wavering. ‘I went to see John and I mentioned that I knew his uncle. Perhaps I unwittingly upset him, and that’s why he wrote to Adam warning him of me.’

‘He didn’t. He warned Adam about the Coroner’s clerk. Because his secret support for Lancaster was out, he realised that other secrets might be unleashed too.’

‘What Adam told me was, the note warned him to escape but when he saw the clerk, he was overcome with hatred. This clerk threatened the man he adored. In a sudden frenzy he decided to
kill Roger, giving his friend John time to escape. He was offering himself up as a sacrifice to protect his … well, his lover.’

Baldwin shook his head. ‘The damned fool! He’ll be in a cell for years to come.’

Warin stared up at a wandering man-at-arms on the wall who was glancing down at them with interest. The whole castle was by now aware that the man who had lived among them was in fact the heir of the manor and this castle. More than one man-at-arms had blenched at the news, remembering some slight given in the confident knowledge that they were safe. The man on the walls was in no danger, though. He’d made no insulting comments that Warin could remember. And he would have remembered, had the fellow done so.

He said, ‘In truth, Adam seems a good enough priest to me. I’ve heard nothing against him, apart from this foolishness with John from Temple. That being so, I was wondering whether there might be some means of protecting him from the full force of ecclesiastical law.’

‘How could we do that?’

‘We could persuade Roger that it was a genuine mistake.’ Warin grinned. ‘We could say that the attack was caused by a sudden brain fever, and that after a chance to cool off, Adam is better.’

‘You would be well served to think of a better excuse, and a less lame story that would be acceptable to Roger,’ Baldwin said unenthusiastically.

‘I am sure we can think one up,’ Warin said.

‘Why would you do this for him?’

Warin smiled, his teeth gleaming in the dusky light. ‘Sir Baldwin, this manor is my inheritance. Adam is younger than me; he’ll likely outlive me. All the time I own this manor, I shall have a reliable spy. What would such a spy be worth, would you say, when the country is disturbed? The same holds true for John.
Both can keep me informed of malcontents before trouble has time to brew.’

‘It may not be disturbed for long.’

‘Aye, and the pigs in the sty may sprout wings!’ Warin declared dryly. ‘Mortimer has flown. There are men who would support him against the King’s friends. Wouldn’t you?’

‘Why do you ask me to help you?’ Baldwin asked, ignoring such a dangerous question.

‘An ally would be useful, especially if I have to try to persuade the Coroner’s clerk to withhold his charges.’

‘And why should you expect me to help you?’

‘You are keen to resolve the murders here, aren’t you? Well, if you will help me, I can throw a sacrifice to you. I have heard that Gervase may have been out of the castle on the night that Athelina died. He was out last night when Serlo died, too.’

‘So you are convinced he is guilty?’ Baldwin asked.

‘Who else? The man has fled. That at least is how the Coroner thinks – and apparently Nicholas too.’ Warin chuckled, and then he grew serious. ‘Gervase is disloyal. I detest men whom I cannot trust, and I do not trust him. From what I have seen and heard, he is a man whose brain is led solely by his tarse.’

At last, Baldwin thought, I am getting to the meat of this matter. He feigned disinterest. ‘That scarcely sounds like justification for my aiding you to persuade Roger to forget Adam’s attack on him.’

‘You would help me do that? In that case, you shall have the facts: Athelina’s boys were not Gervase’s, but she
was
his lover after she became a widow. Adam’s maid? The child is Gervase’s. No matter where you look about the place, you see his colouring, his eyes, his mouth on the local children. He’s taken advantage of his position too freely.’

‘You said you could not trust him because of his disloyalty?’

Warin bared his teeth. ‘Nicholas, the castellan here, had a row
with his wife earlier. Their words were overheard. She was put in pup by Gervase. Nicholas is barren.’

Baldwin scoffed. ‘He told me himself that he was Richer’s father.’

‘So he is, but then, some years after Richer’s birth, he was very ill with a fever. You know the one: swollen cods, the lot.’

‘Christ Jesus, the mumps?’

‘Yes. And since then he’s fathered no children. That’s one element of the proof. The other is, think how Gervase behaved when Lady Anne entered a room. His eyes never left her – more truly, they never left her belly. And she detests him now, from all I’ve seen. Perhaps because his seed has risked her marriage and life.’

‘You say that this means Gervase is the murderer?’ Baldwin said. ‘But that supposes he killed his lover, Athelina, and her boys. Are you
sure
neither was his?’

Warin smiled at him easily. ‘Quite sure, but I don’t accuse Gervase of these murders, Sir Baldwin! I accuse Nicholas.’

That, Baldwin felt, was the grossest irony. To have to watch your woman bloom and blossom into motherhood, and know that the child was not your own. Nicholas must surely be within his rights if he wished to kill the steward for this cruel treachery.

He remained in the bailey contemplating all he had learned for some while after Warin left him. The man on the wall found him of little interest now his master was gone, and returned to staring idly over the land about the castle.