‘I am grateful, but I have done nothing that any other Devon man used to the moors would not have done.’
‘Do not belittle your skills, my friend. It is plain to me that you see and understand much about this land. More than most.’
Simon shrugged. ‘I have spent a lot of time on the moors since I was a child.’
‘I have been spending as much time up here as I can since I arrived too, of course, but I’ve only been here — what? maybetwelve, thirteen years? I have nothing like your experience.’
‘Yes, well, you are a monk. You can hardly expect to gather as much knowledge about the moors as someone who’s worked on themfor as long as me,’ Simon said uncomfortably. After all he had heard from John de Courtenay, he didn’t feel he could trustthis man, no matter that he had such an apparently amiable disposition, or that his behaviour so far had given Simon no reasonto mistrust him.
‘What would you like to do when the new abbot is installed?’
‘Me?’
‘Yes. From all I’ve seen of you, you aren’t a man suited to sitting in a customs house and counting coins. When you are in the town,you have an appearance of frustration, as though you want to be away, but here … here you look like a man in his element.’
Simon had to control himself. It was too tempting to let his jaw drop. No one else had ever noticed his irritation and dissatisfactionwith the job in Dartmouth, he was sure. ‘I certainly like the moors,’ he said cautiously.
‘So I always believed! I never thought you were ideal for the post of keeper of the port. So, if I were to become abbot, wouldyou prefer me to put you back up here as bailiff? It is entirely up to you, but if you wish it, let me know and I’ll do what I can.’
‘Do you think you will win the election?’
Busse was blowing on his hands. Now he stopped and held them to the fire, looking away from Simon as he did so. His eyes werecrinkled at the corners, and he smiled faintly as he spoke.
‘Oh, don’t listen to what others say, Bailiff. Just because a man is born to a noble family doesn’t mean that he is himselfvery noble. I know the sort of rumour that brother John has been spreading against me, and I will not allow it to upset me. Better, I think, for me to behave as a real monk should, and continue to perform my duties to the best of my ability, ratherthan sinking to low political rumour-mongering.’
‘I didn’t mean …’ Simon began, distressed to think that he had been so transparent.
‘Of course you did, and you would be right to worry about me, too. If I were to become the new abbot, and if I were a thiefor an untrustworthy soul in any way, I would merit caution from any man. Naturally. But I say this, Bailiff,’ and now he turned and faced Simon, still with the littlesmile on his lips, but with shrewd, serious eyes, ‘I say this: I am no liar, fraud or thief. I seek only to do the best Imay for the abbey and for God. I have no other interests. However, I am driven by one consideration, one motivation that urgesme on with ever greater determination.’
Simon nodded. ‘And that is?’
‘Dear God in heaven! To keep that blasted idiot de Courtenay out of it, of course! You know how the abbey was when Abbot Robertwas first elected?’
Simon could smile at that. Abbot Robert had taken on an abbey that was collapsing under its debts. His first act had beento borrow money to maintain the fabric of the place. And now? At his death it was probably the wealthiest institution in thewhole of Devon.
‘Precisely. The abbey is safe for now — but if brother John takes on the abbacy, how long would that last? He would spendall he could on his wine and his hunting. Under him, I could imagine Tavistock having the best bloodlines of every rache,alaunt and rounsey in the country, but no money to buy candles or bread! God forbid that that spendthrift and fool shouldever be in charge of the place.’
A little while later, he apologised to Simon, but begging the age of his bones and his inexperience of such long days he crawledinto the shelter and rolled himself up in his own blanket, close to Rob.
It was hard to know what was best to do in these circumstances, Simon told himself. De Courtenay had been right when he told Simon that Simon had a loyalty to the family. His father had been so devoted, it was hard for Simon to consider being evenremotely disloyal. And yet Busse had hit the nail on the head when he spoke about the man’s interests. Simon didn’t know de Courtenay intimately, buthe was quite sure that the man would be an unmitigated disaster if he was responsible for the abbey’s finances.
However, as he crawled backwards into the shelter, his blanket and cloak in his hands, as he wrapped himself up in them andclosed his eyes, all he could see was Busse’s calm, affable face offering him the chance of throwing over life in Dartmouthand returning here, to the moors he loved. He could live with his wife again in Lydford, see their daughter, see his littleson growing …
For that he would support any contender, no matter what John de Courtenay felt.
Exeter Castle
The sheriff’s chamber at the castle was a small, comfortable affair, but there was nothing kindly or welcoming in the sheriff’sexpression as Baldwin and the coroner entered, Langatre behind them.
‘I hear you released this man? On what grounds?’
‘Sir Matthew, it is delightful to meet you again,’ Coroner Richard declared.
‘And you. What is the meaning of releasing this man when I had ordered him arrested and brought here?’ He had stood now, andwalked past the two knights to stand staring at the wilting Langatre.
Baldwin glanced at Sir Richard, but he could see that the coroner was as bemused as he by this display of anger. ‘You hada man ordered arrested on the basis that he had killed his servant. After a brief investigation, it was clear not only thathe had not killed his servant, but that he was himself the victim of a fierce assault, and would have died were it not for the fact that he defended himself with vigour.’
‘And he convinced you of that, did he?’
‘Show him your neck, lad,’ Coroner Richard rumbled.
Langatre obediently lifted his hands to his throat, but the sheriff knocked them away.
‘I don’t care what fatuous evidence you have given these two good knights. I know who you are and what you do, man. I won’thave your kind in this county, and for now I want you held in my gaol until the little matter of your guilt or innocence hasbeen confirmed to my satisfaction. Take him down, sergeant!’
Baldwin protested. ‘Sheriff, this man is innocent. You cannot seriously believe that he could have killed his servant. I haveseen the scene myself, and it accords in every detail with this man’s evidence. If you hold him here, the people in his roadwill assume that he is guilty, and his life will become impossible.’
The sheriff watched his sergeant ungently pulling the shocked Langatre through the door and closing it after them. ‘You mayfeel that this is unjust, Sir Baldwin, but it’s only the latest in a series of insanities, so far as I am concerned. However, I have a writ from the king himself demanding that people such as this Langatre should be arrested and presented to him.’
‘Where is this writ?’ Sir Richard grated.
The sheriff looked at him with surprise — although Baldwin was not sure whether it was because the coroner had questionedhis veracity, or merely that he didn’t think the coroner could read. Whatever the reason, he had soon pulled out a small parchmentwith the king’s seal broken on it. He passed the small cylinder to Sir Richard, who unrolled it, his eyes all the while onthe sheriff, as though doubting that the man was safe.
‘Good God in heaven!’
‘Yes,’ the sheriff said. ‘Dated the sixth of November at Westminster.’
‘What does it say?’ Baldwin asked at last, frustrated beyond tolerance.
‘There has been an attempt on the life of the king and the Despensers. All those who could have had anything to do with itare to be held.’