The Templar

‘And if he killed her here,’ Baldwin said pensively, walking back to the body on the cart, ‘it must have come as a surprise to her, for there is little sign of a struggle.’

‘Only the scrapes on her hand.’

Baldwin nodded vaguely, but he was already exposing the woman’s forearms. ‘And here, on the underside of her forearm,’ he said.

‘Si. What of it?’

Baldwin stared down at the arms. ‘Perhaps nothing, but her assailant may have been unsure — nervous, perhaps — because it means that she was not killed with the first blow, but was able to hold up her hands and defend herself.’

Simon shrugged. ‘I have seen women who have been able to hold their arms over their heads even after having massive injuries. Perhaps this is one such woman. Maybe she had a strong skull and thick skin.’

Baldwin nodded.

‘In any case,’ Simon continued, ‘if you’re right and this woman was adored by a man so that he formed a desire for her so strong that he was prepared to rape her, maybe his hand was reluctant. It’s not surprising that he wouldn’t want to kill her. It’s an odd man who wants a woman so much, he’ll murder her just to possess her.’

‘It’s a stranger man still who is so determined to possess a woman that he does not mind the fact that she’s dead,’ Baldwin pointed out gruffly.

‘Maybe she wasn’t dead when he had her,’ Simon countered. ‘He could have taken her by force, and then realised that she wouldn’t forgive him, so he beat her. Maybe she taunted him, saying she’d have him arrested as soon as she got back to the city.’

‘Come, Simon! How many rape victims have you known who have not shown extreme fear and loathing afterwards? Few would dare to taunt their attacker.’

Simon gave a fleeting scowl. ‘I have known women who were not that scared of their rapist beforehand. Some had so little expectation of being attacked, they told the man that he’d best be off, before they told their father and brothers, and all too often the fellow’s run. I’ve seen it many times. Familiarity breeds contempt, and the mere fact that a man wants to get inside a woman’s skirts doesn’t mean she’s petrified of him, not if it’s a man whom she knows well. If it was a man this poor girl had come to know on the way here on pilgrimage, perhaps she didn’t fear a murderous assault until it was too late.’

‘It is possible,’ Baldwin admitted, but reluctantly. In his experience, women were all too prone to terror when they were raped — no matter how well they knew the assailant. ‘But let us investigate the land about here and see whether there are any signs which might assist Senor Munio.’

Simon was happy to leave the body in the cart and join Baldwin.

The ground was hard and dusty, dried out already by the midday sun. It was only at the water’s side that there was still moisture, but here there was only the mark of some feet walking to the water, then away.

‘Small feet,’ Baldwin noted.

‘Perhaps it was this woman,’ Munio said. ‘She came here to fetch some water, and was attacked as she walked away.’

‘Yet there is no container,’ Baldwin mused. ‘Does that mean that the killer took her water? Maybe he knew he must flee, and because of that, he took her skin or pot with him.’

Simon was less interested in the land by the water, and more in which direction the killer had gone after the murder. ‘If he killed her and was struck with remorse, I’d have thought he’d have run straight to the Cathedral to beg forgiveness, but this doesn’t look like a sudden attack that went wrong. It’s more as though the man was overwhelmed with fury, to have done so much damage. Perhaps he just ran straight away?’

‘There’s no sign of footprints,’ Baldwin said, peering about.

Simon was walking in a circle at some distance, trying to see whether there was any mark in the dry soil or clue left in the scrubby plants. He then extended his search by some yards, but found nothing of interest. It was only when he looked in the shade of a small tree some forty yards distant that he saw the first of the hoofprints.

One set was broader, belonging to a bigger, heavier horse, for where they crossed the other hoofprints, they were set deeper into the soil. ‘Baldwin!’

The knight and the Galician investigator joined him. Baldwin touched the dusty marks gently. ‘There’s little doubt that these are recent,’ he concluded. ‘The rain would have destroyed them, so I assume these horses were here after the rains.’

‘This tree — surely they came here and tied their mounts to it?’ Simon suggested.

Baldwin frowned. ‘A man could have ridden here with her, and when he saw that they were alone, he decided to take advantage. He and she stopped, probably to take refreshment from the waters, and both tied their mounts to the tree. But then he revealed his genuine desires.’