The Templar

‘Perhaps,’ Baldwin said, unconvinced. It was possible for any man to grow to desire money — and just as possible for a woman to steal from her mistress to give to her lover. Still, he told himself that there were other possibilities — for example this lopsided-headed felon of whom Don Ruy spoke. If such a creature were to come across a maid carrying a fair sum of money, it would be easy to imagine his stealing it, and getting rid of her afterwards in a brutal way … yet Baldwin still disliked the fact that Ramon had lied to them.

‘Tell me,’ he said at last, ‘if you overheard Joana giggling about her mistress, could another man have heard her, too?’

Don Ruy frowned and looked away. Eventually he found his voice again.

‘You think someone learned of my seeing the Prioress in flagrante, then made up the story of my blackmailing her so that they could take the money when it was paid? It is a convoluted theory.’

‘Not if you spoke of it to another,’ Baldwin said. ‘Perhaps the blackmail was real enough, and only the name of the felon was concealed. Someone knew of the Prioress’s affair with this peasant, and that someone was surely with your band when you came here. He made up the blackmail story in order to rob the Prioress more easily.’

‘I told no one,’ Don Ruy insisted.

‘Very well. But of course the Prioress’s lover knew you had been there.’

‘And blamed me while he sought to rob her,’ Don Ruy muttered.

Baldwin nodded slowly. ‘Yes, Don Ruy. If you are as innocent as you say, then the killer, or the blackmailer, could be one of those who travelled here with you. He had to kill Joana, because she saw him and could denounce him. Were there many in your party?’

The knight had stood to leave. Now he dropped back into his seat again. In the sunshine, Simon thought he looked like a man who had been up too late the night before. He also had the air of a man who had been living rather too well. Simon wondered whether he had been with another woman the night before. There were such wenches even in a cathedral city, he guessed. Then again, he realised, a man might feel guilt after committing a murder. That was emotionally draining.

‘I believe the Prioress and Joana had been to Orthez, and they travelled on to Compostela with a large group. I joined their band at Burgos. She and her maid left us some four days ago to travel on ahead, I don’t know why. I and the others continued and we arrived yesterday.’

‘Not the day before?’

Don Ruy said irritably, ‘She was on horseback; I was on foot! We made good time, but no, she is wrong.’

‘And she left after you saw her caught in the act with her peasant lover?’

‘Yes.’

‘There’s something I still don’t quite understand: you walked into the shed without knocking, knowing full well that it was her chamber?’ Baldwin asked.

‘No, of course I didn’t know! I had been praying in a shrine not far from there. When I returned, it was dark, and I entered the place thinking that it would make a rude shelter for me for the night. As soon as I understood what was happening in there, I left. Next morning I rose and heard the maid Joana talking about it to a companion, and realised who I had walked in upon. The next day my companions and I moved on. Her lover came with us. He is not an honourable man,’ he added disdainfully.

Baldwin frowned. ‘Yet she arrived here before you?’

‘As I said, my companions and I were on foot. She and many of her group were on horseback,’ Don Ruy pointed out again. ‘She must have overtaken us.’

‘Or she spoke the truth and left before you?’

‘Possibly. Who knows?’ He looked bored with the subject.

‘All your group are here in the city now?’ Baldwin asked, prompted by Simon.

‘No. The party was so glad to see the city ahead of us that many started running off down the plain towards it, and as they did so, they were attacked by the outlaws.’ He gave a slight shrug. It was a common enough occurrence. ‘The murderous devils tore down the slope at my companions, hacking them to pieces. It was a miracle, but the rest of us were saved by three men who weighed in and slaughtered the attackers.’

‘A random attack against such a party?’ Baldwin asked. ‘It scarcely seems the behaviour of a rational gang. Was there anyone among you who could have deserved such a treatment?’

Don Ruy stared into the distance meditatively. ‘They were mostly a gaggle of peasants. Even the man with …’

‘With Dona Stefania, you were going to say?’ Baldwin guessed.

‘Even he was a scruffy little devil,’ Ruy said equably. ‘I was the only knight, and there was one cleric, a well-built fellow who could have been a fighting man of years ago, before he took up the cloth. But apart from those two, no. The rest were all churls of one form or another. It gave me no pleasure to endure their company for so long, I assure you.’

‘So of the men of your party, how many survived?’

‘Seven were killed, another five were wounded badly and remain in the Cathedral’s hospital. None of them could have harmed the girl.’