Baldwin briefly told Simon all that he had heard already, and when Jankin had bellowed through the door at the back to his wife for some food, and had returned with an immense jug of ale and another cup for Simon to sit with the travellers, both Simon and Baldwin looked at him.
‘Master Jankin, you have been very frank and helpful. Now I would ask for any more information you can give us. You said that the Despensers’ man had taken the Lady Lucy. What did you mean? Why should he?’
‘The Despensers have a manor just south of us here, Monkleigh,’ Jankin said. He sipped thoughtfully at his ale. ‘Good brew, this one … Wish I could get it right more often … Well, their man is called Sir Geoffrey Servington. He’s a large bully of a man with the manners of an ox. Maybe fifty years old, maybe a little fewer. Strong, harsh, confident.’
‘You describe half the knights in the king’s host,’ Baldwin pointed out.
‘True. Well, he has been here as steward to the Despenser manor for these last seven years, and I dare say he is efficient enough. But he’s like so many men of power, can’t possess it without using it. He bullies where he may, trying to win stores and victuals for free wherever he can.’
‘It is the way of strong men,’ Baldwin agreed. He didn’t approve of such behaviour, but he knew it was hard to stamp out.
‘Except things are getting worse here, since his master has grown so … so …’
Baldwin eyed him cautiously. The innkeeper was uncomfortable. ‘Master keeper, let me put your mind at ease. I am a Keeper of the King’s Peace and my interest is purely to find the murderer of my friend’s servant. I care nothing for the loyalties of individuals, and to be honest, I doubt even Despenser or the king himself cares about the opinions of an innkeeper in the depths of Devon. Anything said here will be kept between us.’
He reached into his tunic’s neck and withdrew his small wooden crucifix. Over the years he had worn it close to his skin every day. It had travelled with him when he first sailed for the Holy Land and the disaster that was Acre; he had borne it in the islands when he had finally made good his pledge and joined the Knights Templar; and he wore it and wept when he saw his friends die in the flames of an intolerable fire, a fire which had been lighted by bigotry and deceit.
‘I, Sir Baldwin de Furnshill, Keeper of the King’s Peace, swear that I shall not divulge your name to any man in connection with what we discuss and I will not give away any information about powerful men to anyone at all, neither your friend nor your enemy. I swear this on the Gospels and by my faith that I shall die and rise to Heaven.’
Simon took hold of it. ‘I also swear this. I, Simon Puttock, Bailiff to the Abbot of Tavistock, will not give away your name or your help to me in finding the murderer of my companion and servant and his family. And I swear also that I shall find his murderer and see him pay for his offences.’
Jankin sat back and eyed them both. ‘I think we ought to have another ale,’ he said, and grinned.
‘Right,’ he continued when they had all emptied their cups. He set the three cups in a triangle. ‘Sir Geoffrey lies here to the east, far down south of us. He is Despenser’s man through and through, but he’s not averse to a little money on the side. Just here, west of him, and reaching northwards up to here, is Sir John Sully’s land. He’s not in the pay of Despenser, he’s a loyal vassal of Lord Hugh de Courtenay. Sir John doesn’t live here, though. He spends most of his time over at his other estates, especially Ash Reigny, where he’s lord of the manor. So all the affairs of his place here are in the hands of Sir Odo de Bordeaux. Sir Odo lives here at the manor house of Fishleigh. His estates are extensive, and cover all this.’ He waved a hand airily.
Simon looked at the cups. ‘And the two of them are at daggers drawn?’
‘Yes. Lord Hugh de Courtenay is not a natural ally of my Lord Despenser, so I think, and that means that Sir Geoffrey has his master’s agreement to harry and upset all the affairs of Lord de Courtenay’s estates.’
‘And Hugh’s lands were on the de Courtenay estates?’ Simon frowned.
Baldwin nodded. ‘The good Prioress of Belstone let Hugh and Constance have use of it, but she had only rented it from Lord de Courtenay, and didn’t own it.’ He turned to Jankin again. ‘So you believe that Sir Geoffrey could have launched an attack on Sir Odo’s lands? Why? Just to irritate?’
‘I don’t know. I shouldn’t be surprised. If he intended to try to force Sir Odo to give up some of the lands nearer the Despenser estates …?’
Baldwin nodded. ‘I have heard of such tactics before. Sometimes a man who is enormously powerful can decide to take over his neighbour’s meagre belongings. But one attack on a man doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s intent on invasion and theft.’
‘No, but when there have been other attacks, it starts to look suspicious,’ Jankin said. ‘There was one on Sir Odo’s sergeant the same day as the attack on your man, Bailiff. A force of rough men-at-arms turned up there, so I’ve heard, and threatened him until he left his land. A sergeant, forced off his own land! All his animals were rounded up and killed or driven off, while his garden was flattened. He has nothing now, except what he can claim from his master.’
‘And you mentioned Lady Lucy, too,’ Baldwin reminded him gently.
Jankin shook his head and stared at his cup. ‘She’s from Meeth, over west, north of Odo’s manor. A nice little estate there, she has. It was hers with her husband, but now she’s gone missing, like I said. Everyone here believes it’s Sir Geoffrey again.’
‘Why?’ Simon demanded.
‘Look, sir,’ Jankin said, rearranging the cups once more into a triangular pattern. ‘If Sir Geoffrey take us here, at Iddesleigh, then he has a nice stretch of land all the way up from Exbourne, down this way, up to Dolton. It’s a good spread, and it’d give him a bit of a power base down here in Devon.’
‘Why would he need it?’ Baldwin asked, but then he guessed at the truth before Jankin could speak. ‘To pressurise Lord Hugh!’
‘I think so, yes. If he can take a few parcels of land, make his own controls increase, then he can start to threaten Lord de Courtenay. There are so many murmurings, masters,’ Jankin added, leaning forward, his voice dropping. ‘We may be out of the way here, but we hear mutters and rumours nevertheless. Everyone is talking about the Despensers and how cruel they are.’
‘It is one thing to threaten a sergeant from his land, another to talk of capturing a lady and holding her, surely,’ Simon said.
Baldwin was aware of feeling cool, and he glanced at the fire, thinking it must have died, but it was burning brightly. He felt a sudden anxiety. If there should be war again, it would be a harsh affair. There were too many bad memories already, and a civil war would mean families split against themselves, brothers fighting each other, perhaps even sons fighting their fathers. If it came to war, it would be the worst he had seen. ‘It has been done, Simon,’ he said heavily.
‘By whom?’
‘The Despenser.’ Baldwin’s head tilted and he toyed with his cup, then refilled it and drank it off in one gulp. The strong ale hit his stomach like burning oil. It only served to increase his discomfort. ‘They took a lady and tortured her only a short while ago. A knight’s widow. Stephen Baret was killed at Boroughbridge, I have heard, while fighting against the Despensers’ men. A little later his wife, Madam Baret, was taken by Despenser and tortured to make her sign away her lands to him. I have heard this, and that the young woman was so badly maltreated that she lost her mind completely. She is a lunatic now.’
‘Sweet Jesus!’ Simon breathed.
Jankin nodded. ‘That’s what I’d heard too. When I heard that Lady Lucy was gone, I wondered whether it could be the same. And then I thought about her lands,’ he added, and moved the great earthenware jug until it formed a square, resting above the Sir Odo cup and left of the Iddesleigh one. ‘Because she has more than these other three estates all put together, you see. If a man wanted to carve out a nice part of Devon for himself, he could do worse than take over her land with the others. Especially if he owned Iddesleigh too, because then he could just swallow up the whole of the Fishleigh manor entire. And he’d have a goodly portion of land to set against even a man like Lord Hugh de Courtenay.’