The Templar

‘She was entirely convinced, I should say,’ Baldwin said. ‘What did you think, Simon?’

‘Me? What do I know?’ Simon said with some asperity. ‘I can’t understand a word you’re saying. But I think this man is more concerned than guilty. He doesn’t look like a felon to me, and if he’s so hard up for money that he needs to blackmail, how on earth did he afford those clothes?’

Baldwin smiled slightly and related the story that Dona Stefania had told. ‘When she left us, she looked as though she was rushing off to the Cathedral to pray to Saint James, to ask him who had robbed her.’ He then added as an afterthought: ‘And murdered Joana, of course.’

‘I don’t know what she said about things,’ Simon said pensively, ‘but I’ll tell you this: she was glad to get that story off her chest. If anything happens to her now, it’s this knight who’ll suffer for it. No one else would be considered.’

‘No. I wonder what parts of the story were true?’

‘The sleeping with a pilgrim was true. The flush that came to her face was genuine, or I’m a peasant. After that, I don’t know what she was talking about, but the anger and fear in her eyes when she looked at this knight was real, I’d reckon. She looked terrified, and obviously believed that her maid had been murdered by him — if she believed that story about the blackmail.’

‘Yes, but do we believe it?’ Baldwin said, glancing at Don Ruy de Benavente again.

‘If I could understand a word of what was being said, I’d be able to advise. As it is, though, how the hell should I know?’ Simon groused. ‘You twitter on with these others so quickly, I don’t know what’s going on.’

‘Do you need help, Masters?’ asked a new voice.

Baldwin turned round. ‘Good day to you Matthew. I think that the short answer to that is “Yes”, but we can’t ask for it just now. The girl who was murdered was apparently carrying a large sum of money, and we are trying to find it.’

‘You think he might have it?’ Matthew asked, staring at Don Ruy.

‘Stranger things have happened,’ Baldwin chuckled and watched as the beggar moved off again among the crowds. When he turned back to Simon, his expression was pensive. ‘You are right — this is nothing to do with us. Perhaps I should simply tell that to Munio and leave the whole thing to him.’

‘Just ask Don Ruy: did he try to demand money?’

Baldwin shrugged and did so.

‘Me? Of course not!’ the man snapped, his patience gone. ‘I certainly saw her in flagrante with that peasant Parceval, the nasty little man from Flanders, but I wouldn’t dream of demanding money from her. Why, I wouldn’t do that to the lowliest serving girl, let alone a Prioress — if she is one! She says she is, but she behaved more like a whore from Malpertugio! I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that she is less honourable than she avows. I saw her, after all, with her legs spread as wide as a whale’s mouth, ready to engulf any man who came near. It was just the bad luck of the peasant that she caught him.’ He laughed briefly. ‘Snared like a man in a bear trap.’

‘You mentioned Malpertugio — the “Evil Hole” of Naples where they have the fleshpots,’ Baldwin said. ‘You have been there?’

‘A few times. It’s a fine city. I don’t go to the Malpertugio myself, of course.’

‘Of course not,’ Baldwin said suavely. ‘Yet the Prioress was engaged in that form of entertainment.’

‘And not as an unwilling victim as she pretends,’ Don Ruy stated. ‘She was enthusiastic as hell. In fact, I didn’t realise that she was the Prioress. When I walked in on them, she was underneath him with her head towards me, and seeing a naked woman upside down … well, it’s not so easy to recognise someone you hardly know. It was only later I realised who it was.’

‘Why? Did you wait and see who came out of the room?’

‘No, of course not! As soon as my eyes had accustomed themselves to the light and I realised what they were up to, I left them to it. Not knowing who it was, I had no interest. It was merely two adults rutting in a shed. No, I only realised the next day, when I heard the Prioress’s maid talking to another girl. They were giggling about it. I suppose all servants when they are alone laugh about the peccadillos of their masters and mistresses. It must amuse them no end.’

‘And you thought you might be able to take advantage of her yourself?’ Baldwin suggested.

‘No! I am here on pilgrimage, not to fornicate!’

His outrage seemed unfeigned. Baldwin shot a look at Simon, but his friend was merely gazing at the two of them with an expression of bemusement. ‘So what then? The Prioress says you tried to blackmail her. You say you did not. She says you demanded to see her yesterday, you say you did not. Yet you were there at the place where this woman died. Tell me, why did you follow her? To demand sex?’

‘I am a pilgrim,’ Don Ruy said steadily. ‘I do not need to explain myself to you or to anyone.’