The Templar

‘So our chief suspects so far are Ruy himself, Ramon and this felon.’ Simon shrugged. ‘Where on earth could the Prioress’s money have gone?’

‘Find that and we find the murderer,’ said Baldwin.

‘Where are we going now?’ Simon asked as Baldwin set off again.

‘To look at some of the stables about here,’ Baldwin said. He was peering up the road, towards the unmistakable sound of neighing and snorting. ‘I want to make sure that the noble Don Ruy was telling the truth about hiring a horse. There can’t be that many stables here, and if he decided to hire a mount on the spur of the moment, surely he’d pick a place that lay on the way to the gate.’

‘Didn’t Munio say he had sent men to check the stables?’ Simon said, hurrying to keep up and panting a little.

‘No. Munio sent to learn where the maid’s horse was stabled, and whether she was followed. I want to see where Ruy found his mount. After all, he may have followed her after seeing her on her horse. There is nothing to say that he followed her to her stable. In any case, I think you and I can question stablemen more effectively. We have more facts about the murder at our disposal.’

‘You suspect him, don’t you?’

Baldwin looked at him. ‘Did you see his face when he spoke of Joana? There was hurt there when he told how she’d tethered her horse with that other man’s. We heard that he was staring at Joana when they left the gate, according to the beggar; also, he admits he was chasing after her.’

‘Interesting. That all means he didn’t see Ramon on the way out, only her. So was Ramon already there and waiting at a prearranged rendezvous?’ Simon mused.

‘Perhaps. I do wonder about him. Could Ramon have killed her for the money?’ Baldwin thought aloud.

‘He looked to be utterly bereft at the scene yesterday.’

‘True.’ Baldwin stopped. ‘Let’s ask in here. Perhaps things are about to be clarified for us.’

The building had a large yard, railed to stop horses escaping, and a simple barn behind, set out with rings in the walls to enclose the horses. Inside, rounseys and cheaper pack beasts stood and chomped on their straw. The groom arrived in moments, happily took Baldwin’s proffered tip, but could not help them. He had not served any man yesterday, let alone a knight.

They left and walked farther up the lane. The next two stables were no more helpful than the first, but when they reached the fourth one, the little, pinched-faced man took Baldwin’s money with a suspicious glower. Simon thought it made him look less like a human and more like a deeply unhappy goblin, similar to the ones being carved on Exeter’s new Cathedral.

Baldwin asked whether a knight had called in yesterday afternoon, and the man nodded suspiciously. ‘What of it?’

‘We wanted to ask about his horse. He had it for much of the afternoon?’

‘If he’s the man you mean, he took it out in the early afternoon. I told him to be careful, because of the heat, and he said he was going up along the river so the horse could drink and get shade when it wanted.’

‘I see. And which horse did he take?’ Baldwin asked glancing along the lines of mounts.

‘His own. A dark one, with a splash of white on its shoulder and neck. Why?’

Baldwin tried to control his excitement. ‘This man, he came back later? Where is the horse now?’

‘He’s taken it with him — off to Portugal, I think. Probably to Tomar. That was where he was talking about going, anyway.’

Baldwin rapped out some more questions, then turned at last to Simon. ‘He says that the man’s name was Ramon.’

‘He’s bolted! He’s taken the money and gone!’

‘Slow down, Simon. He could merely have been so distraught at his fiancee’s death that he decided to flee the city. It is, after all, in Compostela, where his dreams came to nought.’

‘Did he say he would return?’ Simon enquired.

‘No. He has gone to Portugal, this man thinks.’

Simon licked his lips. ‘Ask about other travellers who have come in here recently and stabled their horses with him.’

After much talk, the groom admitted to some others. One in particular was a handsome mare which had arrived the day before. A man with a badly hunched back had brought it in, and left it. He hadn’t said when he was going to want it. It was just down the second aisle.

The groom led the way between massive rumps of horseflesh to a pretty little amblere, which stood sedately cropping at a bundle of hay, eyeing the men curiously.

‘Very pretty,’ Baldwin said with a smile, patting her backside.

‘She’d be a lovely beast for a lady,’ the groom said innocently.

‘I am sure you are right,’ Baldwin agreed affably. ‘Tell me more about this man who brought it in to you.’

Munio was in his hall with his clerical secretary when the call came to him, and he sighed as the priest packed up his scrip and some parchments with the air of a man who had seen it all before and knew he would see many more deaths before his own.