The priest’s voice was tortured, his face suddenly sunken like a man about to die, and he cast his eyes up to the altar, making the sign of the cross as his eyes filled with tears. It made Hick feel guilty and scared, to think that he had brought this depression to the priest – but he recoiled when he caught sight of the other man’s features again.
Father Abraham leaned forward and pointed a finger which shook with conviction.
‘The Templars were and are cursed. They lost us the Holy Land because of their execrable activities, even though they started as a religious Order. They sank to the depths, just as you have started to. If you befoul the church with your degenerate activities, you will deserve the same terrible punishment. Your soul will be dragged down to Hell to eternal damnation, where it will roast for ever! Do you want that?’
Gulping, Hick shook his head.
‘Then get out of my sight, you contemptible little man!’
Hick rose to his feet, gabbling his thanks, promising never to bring Felicity to the church again, tripping and stumbling as he made his way backwards to the door, and thence into the clean, bright sunlight.
‘Phew!’ he gasped and wiped his brow with a dirty forearm. Pulling his cheap felt hat on, he glanced up and down the street. With relief he saw that Mistress Tan’s alehouse had a small gorse bush tied over her doorway. She must have ale for sale. After the shock he had just endured, Hick needed a drink – badly.
He wasn’t quite certain what had angered the priest. Surely it couldn’t have been a natural transaction with a whore. That was normal. But something had upset him. He’d practically spat when he was talking about the Templars. Still, it wasn’t anything to worry Hick. He scratched at his groin and remembered Felicity and a certain unfinished business. Maybe Mistress Tan would be amenable to selling him something other than ale. She often would when she was hard up for cash.
Baldwin and Simon left Avicia a short time later, Jeanne joining them as they stood outside in the narrow hallway. Petronilla appeared carrying a tray and took it in for the stricken woman.
Baldwin closed the door behind her. ‘What do you think, Simon?’
‘If I had to bet, I’d say she believed what she said.’
‘So would I, but her personal opinion cannot be considered final. It could be that the shock of seeing her brother dead was enough to unbalance her humours.’
Simon agreed. It was well-known that women suffered from diseases from which men were immune. The vapours attacked women because of the noxious fumes produced in their organs. The uterus was the worst. It could prowl dangerously about the body, especially after shock. Then it could move to the chest, where it caused diseases in the heart and lungs, and only by burning foul-smelling things beneath the poor woman’s nose could a physician or midwife force it to move away.
Both men knew this, and they glanced covertly at Jeanne, who stood eyeing them with folded arms. ‘Well?’ she demanded imperiously. When neither answered, she snorted, spun on her heel and re-joined Petronilla and Avicia.
Simon took a deep breath. ‘I suppose she could think she’s telling the truth. Does that get us anywhere?’
‘The Coroner has declared the result of his inquest.’
‘So what’s the point of chewing on the same old bone?’
‘There is something wrong with all this. Dyne could not have killed the knight and the dog. He was too feeble. The dog alone would have tested him.’
‘He had the knight’s purse,’ Simon reminded Baldwin.
‘Yes, but if he found the knight dead, he would have taken it. An outlaw, not knowing where his pennies could come from would be bound to snatch a dead man’s purse.’
‘That was his fault. He should never have been off the road.’
‘Oh, Simon, really! Think about it: he’d been passed once by Carter and Lovecok – what were they doing out there? Obviously they were looking for revenge, and Dyne knew it. He realised he must get off the road if he wanted to live. If he was so determined to run away, why was it William and the dogs saw or smelled him for much of the day?’
Simon mused. ‘Perhaps the dogs saw someone else?’
‘That is a thought. My God! Simon, you’re right. Of course there was someone else there!’
‘Eh?’
‘Raches! They hunt by scent, not sight: the dog ran after whoever was there, following along his trail and, as soon as the dog caught the man, he ran it through with his sword.’
‘Baldwin,’ Simon said patiently, ‘Dyne didn’t have a sword.’
‘Precisely.’ Baldwin stared into the distance, his face hardening as his conviction grew. ‘Simon, there has been a great injustice here. That fellow Dyne was too scared to carry on along the road, so he hurried to the woods for safety, where he was slaughtered. And he is to be blamed for killing Sir Gilbert.’
‘I don’t care about that,’ Simon said pragmatically. ‘Dyne was a felon. He deserved his end. It’s no injustice if a felon is killed.’
‘Rubbish! Consider the reverse: Dyne could not have killed Sir Gilbert and the dog. That means someone else did, and that someone will get away with murder unless we can stop him. A felon is escaping justice.’
Simon considered. ‘You’re convinced?’
‘Sir Gilbert was a knight and a Templar. Believe me, a weakly felon like Dyne could not have stolen his knife, could not have made a stand against man and dog, could not have stolen the purse and run. Another man did all that. A murderer.’
‘Then we must seek his killer,’ Simon said, but uneasily.
‘Something is troubling you?’
‘The Coroner has declared the matter is closed. If we start stirring things now… Well, neither of us has jurisdiction here, but the Coroner has.’
‘You’re right,’ Baldwin said musingly. ‘Perhaps it would be easier if we didn’t mention it to him yet.’
‘I think so,’ Simon agreed, frowning pensively. The Coroner removed from the issue, his mind turned to the crime itself. ‘So you think it was Carter and his brother-in-law?’
‘It is possible. One could have engaged the knight while the other stabbed him. But the two rode up after William saw the man in the trees. That implies someone else was also there.’
‘Well, surely that was Dyne?’
‘Maybe. But I’d have thought he’d have been making an effort to get away from the road.’
‘Why should someone else have been there?’
‘To keep an eye on Sir Gilbert?’ Baldwin mused.
Simon stared. ‘Why should someone do that?’
‘Nobody trusts a stranger, Simon. Perhaps Sir Gilbert was a spy? He could have come from Despenser. There are many who would want to kill one of Despenser’s men. Or maybe he was recognised as a Templar?’
‘Who would care about a Templar now?’
‘Not all Templars were entirely beyond rebuke, Simon. The Order’s goods were confiscated after the Order was crushed. Many preceptories hid their wealth against the day when they could return and claim their property, but that day never came, so some Templars took what they could and ran away with it rather than leaving it hidden, and that has given rise to some folk thinking that Templars are thieves and outlaws as well as heretics.’
‘Did that happen often?’
‘Not very often. It was mainly in the territories in the north of the realm, places where the knights could simply pocket as much as possible and ride north to Scotland. Some were more organised: the treasurer of South Witham, for example, took everything. He disappeared with a small fortune in money and gold.’
‘You still haven’t said who you think could have wanted to kill the knight if it wasn’t Dyne.’
‘I have no idea. But I think we should try to find out.’
‘So long as you don’t upset the Coroner. What’s your opinion of him?’
‘A fat fool,’ Baldwin said uncompromisingly. ‘He has little intelligence, and the little he does possess seems to be devoted to womanising and politics, from what I have heard.’