Although she was content where they lived now as well, he reminded himself, and it might not be easy to persuade her to move home once more. Still, when she saw it was necessary, she would no doubt agree.
Then his buoyant attitude underwent a change. He felt a cold emptiness in his belly at the thought of having to admit to his failure. It was no use telling himself that such things happened, that his position in life was owed entirely to the whim of the Abbot, that he had no more control over the direction of his life than a chicken in a yard: it was his duty to provide for his wife and family. Without achieving a stable, financially sound future for them all, his life was a failure. He knew that Meg would support him, of course, but that didn’t help. There would be hurt in her eyes when he told her that without his money as Bailiff, they would have to leave their home at Lydford, that they must be more frugal in future. That he might not be able to afford the dowry he had intended for their daughter.
Baldwin had climbed into the bath, and he lay back with his eyes closed while all this passed through Simon’s mind. There was silence in the room as the barber thumbed back Simon’s skin and brought the shining blade of his razor down around Simon’s cheek, along the line of his jaw, then under his chin and down to his neck. When he had relathered Simon’s face and repeated his operations, Baldwin spoke.
‘Simon, are you all right? You look anxious.’
Baldwin’s gentle voice broke in on his thoughts. He opened an eye as Ellis held the blade away. ‘Just tired, I think.’
‘Good. I am glad.’ Baldwin nodded, but he couldn’t help telling himself that his friend had appeared to be tired ever since he had arrived in Tavistock with the Coroner. ‘What do you think about the mystery of the dead miner?’
‘Someone met him and killed him. There appears to be nothing else to learn.’
‘Simon, please, forgive me for asking, but are you quite well?’
‘Why shouldn’t I be?’
Baldwin gazed at him with exasperation. ‘Because you look away from me when I talk to you as though the sight of me pains you, you snap at me or don’t respond at all, you walk away from me as soon as we arrive anywhere, you go and question people as though trying to exclude me from your enquiries, and you sit drumming your fingers there as though you are waiting to have a tooth pulled!’
His last words made Simon give a dry smile. They reminded him of his own feelings about Baldwin.
Seeing that Ellis had finished Simon’s shave, Baldwin motioned the barber to leave the room. Nothing loath, Ellis left by the door and returned to the brewery. ‘Please, Simon, my friend, you would tell me if I had offended you?’
‘Of course. I would trust you with anything. Would you trust me the same?’
‘Me?’ Baldwin said with surprise.
‘You went to the Abbot and told me nothing about the meeting. Is it that you don’t trust me any more?’
Baldwin gave a low grunt. ‘Now I believe I understand. The Abbot asked me to keep this from you.’
‘Why should he do that?’ Simon asked sarcastically. He thought he knew the answer.
‘The Abbot didn’t want to spread the tale about the town. You have heard of Milbrosa?’
‘It’s an old story. The maids of Tavistock use it to scare their children,’ Simon said scathingly.
‘Some say that there are too many similarities between that tale and the things which are happening here now.’
Simon squinted at him. Baldwin was staring contemplatively at the doorway. The room opened westwards, and the sun was already quite low, shining directly in and lighting Baldwin with a warm, orange glow. It made him look tired, emphasising the deep lines of pain and anguish that Simon had all but forgotten, and reminding him that this man had suffered more in his life than he would be able to appreciate. Baldwin had not told Simon everything about his time as a Templar, but Simon knew enough about the way that the Order had been destroyed to know that almost all its members had been tortured and then slaughtered on the pyres. Baldwin had escaped because he had been travelling on the day that the arrests were made, but evading the physical punishments seemed only to have created feelings of guilt in him.
Simon asked tentatively, ‘There is nothing to tie the two stories, is there? Only the fact that Wally was found dead on the moors. In the tale of Milbrosa, the monks hid even that proof of their crime. The Abbot’s wine has been taken – but that may only be a thoughtless prank. How can the two be connected?’
‘The Abbot asked that I should keep this secret even from you,’ Baldwin said. ‘But I cannot maintain my silence. I cannot think of an explanation, not without your help.’
Simon listened with astonishment as Baldwin spoke about Gerard and his sudden disappearance.
‘So just as in the tale of Milbrosa, the Abbot’s wine was drunk and plate was stolen,’ he muttered. ‘And now the supposed perpetrator has been carried away? Was the Abbot sure that this boy Gerard was actually guilty? Perhaps someone else took the wine and things.’
‘The Abbot seemed quite convinced,’ Baldwin said. ‘Another Brother had suspected him.’
‘Did the Abbot say why the lad was suspected?’
‘Not that I recall, no.’
‘Then we should find out,’ Simon said firmly. ‘But before that, I had better reciprocate.’ He related all he had learned, although he refused to tell Baldwin who it was who told him about the club. He had promised Hal he would keep that silent, and he would not break his oath.
Baldwin was drying himself and pulling on fresh clothes, and Simon wiped his face and did the same, shouting for Ellis. When the barber put his head around the door, he passed him some coins.
Just as Ellis was about to leave the room, Baldwin held up a hand to stop him. ‘I am glad to have an opportunity to speak to you,’ he said quietly. ‘Barber, I have heard that you detested Wally because he had got your sister with child. Is that right?’
Ellis gave the knight a sickly grin. He had been expecting to be questioned ever since the two men appeared, and the anticipation had been terrible. When they had told him to leave them, he had thought he was safe, but they had only been lulling him.
‘It was, but I was wrong,’ he said in a choked voice.
‘Oh? Who was this mystery lover of hers, then?’
Ellis’s face hardened a moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching. ‘Master, I have got myself into trouble once by saying who I thought was her man. I won’t say any more, since Sara herself asked me to keep her shame secret.’
Baldwin nodded. ‘Back to Wally, then. At the time of his death, you still believed he was your sister’s lover?’
‘Yes. Look, I went up there on Friday morning to give him a warning, but I left him alive. He was in a state, because he had been drinking and whoring all night and he could hardly concentrate, his head was so bad, but he was alive. I just shouted at him to leave my sister alone, that was all.’ Ellis hung his head.
‘Did he deny an affair?’
‘Yes. But then I expected him to. Look – I didn’t lay a finger on him, all right?’
Baldwin eyed his razors and knives. ‘I rather think you’d have picked a more simple means of despatch, had you intended murder,’ he admitted.
‘Did you see anyone else up there?’ Simon asked.
‘Two monks. One was Mark, that salsarius. The other one, I don’t know.’
‘Could it have been Peter?’ Baldwin asked.
‘Might have been,’ Ellis agreed after a contemplative pause. ‘Don’t know, really.’
‘Where was this Mark?’
‘He was walking towards the middle of the moor. It was only a fleeting glimpse, but you don’t forget a man like him. He’s so big. You could practically see the glow from his red face!’