‘You can think what you like. I love her, and I petitioned the Comte to allow me to sleep with her and save her from the others. He agreed. Robert de Chatillon came to tell us all, and perhaps that made Jean even more bloody pissed at me. So hetried to kill me.’
‘But why follow you all the way here and try to kill you here?’ Baldwin wondered.
‘He is a southerner. You can’t tell what goes on in their minds half the time.’
‘Well, he is free now, and wandering the streets. You must be careful.’
‘Baldwin, I do not trust this man at all. Why should that guard come seeking him? Why should he begin a blood feud after thisman raped the King’s wife? If he did, surely it’s because he wanted to stop an executioner raping a noblewoman.’
‘You don’t trust me? All I’ve done is walk down the street today, and you had to save me from an assassin. Now I’ve told youmy story, and in return you call me a liar?’ Arnaud spat. His face had grown black with anger, and now he set his hand tohis dagger’s hilt.
‘Leave your knife sheathed, Arnaud,’ Baldwin said sharply. ‘What you say is fair — but so is what my companion said. How canwe confirm your words, bearing in mind we shall need to decide how to respond?’
‘Ask Robert de Chatillon. He can confirm it all. He was the man who relayed our orders to us and paid us. Or don’t you trustthe knight who gave us our instructions either?’ he finished snidely, looking at Simon with contempt. ‘Look at me! I haveonly ever obeyed my betters when they commanded me to do their work. Yet you look down on me because I was obedient. Well,in this case, I followed my heart. I love that lady and would do nothing to harm her. That is why I did what I did. You thinkI polluted her? Blame those who are in power, who commanded all the guards to rape her. It wasn’t my doing. I saved her fromthat.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
Baldwin was feeling distinctly waspish. It was partly Simon’s distant rudeness that had made him throw a whole livre tournois at the man as he stood and stalked from the room, ashamed of his friend, himself and his all too ready dislike for the man.After all, as Arnaud had pointed out so cogently, if he did not perform his function, some other man must do it. There wasno point in dislike of the functionary. It was the reality, whether he liked it or not, of the way of all societies.
To an extent, he recognised that his anger with Simon in that little alehouse had been a reflection of his anger at his ownfeelings. In his case, he knew that it had come from the knowledge that the man sitting there in front of him, drinking hisale, had been exactly the sort of man who would have tortured his comrades and hanged a number, or burned them at the stake.The thought was repellent. To be seated at the same table was worse: the idea that he could consort with one of the men whohad helped to destroy his friends and comrades was enough to bring a tear to his eye.
He waited outside for Simon, and couldn’t help but snap grumpily, ‘What makes you think that you have some right to questionhim? He gave us a lot of information that he need not. In some ways he condemned himself.’
‘Baldwin, look at the man. I wouldn’t trust a word he said.’
‘His comments about looking down on a man who takes life legally were close to the truth, weren’t they?’ Baldwin said. ‘I cannot think how many men I have ordered to be executed over the years, and yet I feel justified in despising himfor carrying out the orders of men like me! How can I be so hypocritical?’
‘It is easy. You and I can command a man’s life to be ended, and we can send men to the gallows, but the man who turns themoff the ladders to die does not need to enjoy the task. Did you see his face up at Montfaucon? He liked those corpses. Heis a sick man, Baldwin. His mind is warped and twisted. I trust him not at all.’
‘Before you make judgements about him, bear in mind that those who do such jobs will often be hardened. They have to be tocontinue causing such suffering. They drink themselves to oblivion before each execution, and then, afterwards, hope to forget.What you see as pleasure may be no more than a front to protect himself. A carapace that he uses to conceal his own horror.’
Simon looked at his friend. ‘You think so? I do not, and I have a good record of seeing into men’s hearts.’
‘Well, while we are here still, let us return to Robert de Chatillon to ask him, as Arnaud suggested. If he verifies Arnaud’sstory, perhaps that would also explain a little about Enguerrand’s death. If this guard felt that the orders coming from Enguerrandwere detrimental to the lady in the prison, and he did adore her, as Arnaud hinted, perhaps this fellow was following Enguerrandand killed him too?’
Robert de Chatillon was not gracious when he saw who it was who had returned. ‘Am I to have no peace today?’
‘Perhaps you will shortly,’ Baldwin said. He perched on the edge of a small table. ‘We have been talking to one of your men.’
‘My men? Who, one of the servants?’
‘No,’ Simon said. ‘The executioner. Arnaud.’
Robert twisted his face into a grimace. ‘What on earth did you want to talk to him for? I find the stench of noisome body fluidstends to follow him around a little too closely for my liking.’
That was a sentiment with which Simon concurred only too heartily, Baldwin knew, so he broke in quickly. ‘Arnaud made severalallegations: that Enguerrand de Foix was responsible for all the guards at the Château Gaillard, that there was a specificorder relating to the woman held there, that Arnaud himself persuaded de Foix to allow him to be responsible for carryingout this, um, order, and that there was a kind of mutiny there. Is it all true?’
‘You have hardly been specific enough for me to say whether it’s accurate or not. I can tell you this, though. The man Arnaudwas there. My comte did hire the guards for the castle, most of them from the south or somewhere. As to the orders about the- ah — lady … I do not know that you need to worry yourself about them.’
‘Is it true, then, that it was ordered that she should be raped?’
‘It is true,’ Robert said, fiddling with a pot of sand on his desk, ‘that proof was required that she had been guilty of adultery.Obviously it would be unthinkable that a queen could reign with our king if her honour was questionable.’
‘So it is true, then,’ Baldwin said coldly.
‘If you wish to think it so,’ Robert said. He would not meet Baldwin’s eye, and instead seemed to find the sand pot astonishinglyfascinating.
‘Is it also true that all the men were chosen by the Comte?’ Baldwin asked. There was something about this that made littlesense to him.
‘I believe he may have had a part in selecting them. I couldn’t say how far he was involved in the choice of the men.’
‘Who was, then? You?’
‘Me? Do I look the kind of man who would sink to choosing the guards for a castle dungeon? I may not be so senior a noblemanas you, sieur, but I have not sunk so low as to hand select staff for that sort of position.’
‘Then who did?’
‘I do not know. I have heard that it was Arnaud himself. Well, a man used to living amongst the dregs of society, it’s notsurprising.’
‘You are saying that your master, Comte Enguerrand de Foix, asked Arnaud to seek out the guards for the château, and thenused these miserable creatures to staff the place and guard the Queen? And then he ordered them to rape her so that her infidelitycould be in no doubt?’
‘I think that sums it up well enough.’
‘And the man who was killed when you were injured. Who was he?’
‘I only ever knew him as “le Vieux”. He was an old warrior who’d served in the King’s host a few times. It is said that itwas he who, with Arnaud, picked the men individually.’