The Templar

He finished his meal and donned his tunic and hose, still pursuing the new direction of his thoughts. The more he pondered on it, the more sure he was that he was right. There was only one link missing now, and he was sure that he would soon discover that.

Pulling on his jack and binding his sword about his belly, he left his chamber and went to seek Munio.

The Pesquisidor was sitting at his table in his hall with a somewhat doleful expression on his face, and Simon could not help but notice it. ‘Is all well, Munio?’

‘Yes. Why — should it not be?’ he demanded.

Simon was surprised by his snappishness. ‘My apologies, friend. I did not mean to upset you.’

‘That is right. An English freeman would hardly insult his host, would he?’ Munio said.

Thinking to distract Munio from his strange mood, Simon said, ‘I think I can see what happened out at the ford that day when we found the body. Will you allow me to command some men? Perhaps you too could come with me?’

‘You think I have time to drop all of my official matters on some whim of yours?’ Munio grated, but then he took a deep breath. ‘My apologies, Master Puttock, but I have received some disturbing news today.’

‘But of course,’ Simon said mildly. ‘Shall I ride out alone, then?’

‘No, I shall find a man to help you,’ Munio said, eyeing the man who, so his wife said, desired her.

He was as good as his word. No sooner had he left the house to find Guillem, than two men arrived at Simon’s side. One spoke a form of English, and Simon was convinced that he could explain what he needed. They would walk while Simon rode, as he was still feeling weak. He borrowed Munio’s horse for himself, and the three set off as soon as they could.

Simon wore a small goatskin filled with weak cider about his neck, and as they left the city, he unplugged it and took a long gulp. This weather was peculiar. It was so hot, he wondered how people survived it for long. Surely most people must die young, withered away until they were nothing more than the dried-out husks of the folks they had been. Even Munio, he thought, had been affected. It couldn’t be healthy to live in so hot and inclement a climate. Not like his Dartmoor. There at least there was always abundant moisture. It kept the flesh full and elastic, healthy; not like these thin-skinned foreigners.

It took the trio less than half an hour to reach the ford. Simon sat on his horse, hands crossed over his mount’s cruppers, contemplating the land before him.

The body had been found up there on his left, but Don Ruy had said that Ramon and Joana had been walking over on the other side of the stream. Simon kicked his horse onwards. At the ford the river was only shallow, if broad, and the water came no higher than the men’s knees. Not that they cared. They stoically ploughed through it, without glancing at Simon on his horse.

Once on the other side, Simon began his search. The land here was separated into fields, with a footpath of some sort. On the right-hand side was a ditch, which was a little damp in the very bottom. It looked as though it was used for some form of irrigation. Bushes and a few thin, tormented trees tried to grow here, and there was a thick thorny mess beneath them.

It was here, Simon guessed, that Ramon and his woman had walked, and he rode along at a gentle amble, explaining as simply as he could to the men with him what he expected to find.

Once they understood, the two men set to with a will, and began to shove plants and twigs aside in their search for Simon’s proof. He had hoped that from his vantage point on the horse, he would be the first to see it, but it was the man who understood a little of Simon’s language who suddenly gave a delighted crow-like cry, and pounced. Grinning widely, one hand bleeding with a slash from a vicious thorn, he held up a large leather purse, an expensive, soft, decorated purse filled with gold and silver coins.

‘Well, well, well,’ Simon said with a grin that threatened to separate his crown from his jaw. ‘So I am not so stupid as I feared!’

There was much more to be done, once Simon had proved that part of his theory. Now he was keen to check on other aspects.

Leaving the horse at Munio’s stable for the groom to see to, he walked with the purse into town. Once there, he found a tavern, and sat in full view of the Cathedral, the purse safely tucked inside his jack. He still had the skin about his neck, but set it down and bought a jug of wine. Soon, he began to feel comfortably somnolent in the warm sunshine, watching all the people in the square.

They were all hurrying, but slowly, he noticed. In England, everybody tended to look as though they were hastening everywhere, when they had little reason to; here everyone seemed to move in leisurely fashion and yet they covered the land faster than their Devonshire counterparts.