Templar's Acre

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Baldwin was struck with shame as he looked again at the murdered innocents. They had been carrying spices.

‘Look — balm!’ Roger said gleefully as he pulled a pot from a sack, opening the lid and holding it out. ‘Smell that! The Church will pay well for that — they use it in the censers. This is going to reward us well,’ he gloated as he rifled though the other packs.

‘So we came here to rob?’ Baldwin said.

‘We’re in Acre to take back the Holy Land. What, would you have us leave the Muslims here unhindered? That won’t help our cause, will it? We must harry them as we may. And this way, we increase the money in the coffers at Acre so we can fund more fighters. That cannot be bad.’

Baldwin’s misgivings were not soothed by this glib response. Not that Roger appeared concerned whether Baldwin cared or not. His man Bernat was close now, eyeing Baldwin impassively.

‘I thought you were as keen to come as I was to invite you,’ Roger said. ‘It’s a shame if you’re not. Still, you will have your share of the booty.’

‘I want none of it,’ Baldwin said, staring at the man who had been his opponent. The fellow’s wounds were already covered with a seething mass of flies.

‘No?’ Roger said. He glanced at the other men. ‘All the more for us, friend Baldwin. This is the manner of our survival in this land. You understand?’

‘Oh yes, I understand,’ Baldwin said miserably. He was sure that the activities of these men were no worse than those of others. While they gathered up their booty, and a pair dragged the bodies a little away from the road so they might not be discovered too quickly, kicking limbs before them, Baldwin swore at himself for his folly in coming here. He was a knight’s son. Chivalry was his whole life, and chivalry did not include murdering like common felons. The shame was overwhelming.

Roger stood, and Baldwin saw that the others had noticed their argument. There was a moment’s stillness.

‘Look, lad, I don’t want to see you unhappy,’ Roger said jovially. ‘We’re all friends here.’

‘Ivo is away, but Jacques d’Ivry knows I am with you,’ Baldwin told him, fearing some kind of retribution. ‘If I don’t return, he will want to know why. The blame will attach to you.’

‘Baldwin, be calm,’ Roger said, still smiling. ‘You’re safe. But if I learn you’ve been talking of our little chevauchée, you will die before me. Somewhere in a dark alley, you’ll be found, and with a Genoese dagger in your back, I expect.’

‘We understand each other, then,’ Baldwin said.

Roger nodded. It was a shame, but the fellow was not going to be an ally. Nor could Roger kill him with impunity. Better to keep an eye on him, and if necessary silence him later, in Acre, when it was less likely any blame would attach to him.

Baldwin remounted with the rest of the party. His flank stung, and he looked at it nervously. A raking slash had skimmed his ribs, but it did not hinder his sword arm. Just as well, since one glance at Roger’s face told him he must look to his own safety on the ride back.

Baldwin rode back alone, using his injury as an excuse for riding slowly at the rear of the column, from where he could keep an eye on the others, but to his considerable relief, nothing untoward happened. It seemed Roger was content to trust him for now. Yet it was good to see the city once more, and as he rode in under the gate, Baldwin was aware of a sense of relief. He only wished he could lose his feelings of guilt and shame as easily.

After seeing to their horses, Roger Flor found one of his sailors falling into step beside him. It was Bernat.

He spoke quietly. ‘That fellow today — Baldwin. I don’t know if we can trust him.’

‘How do we know whether any man can be trusted?’ Roger said. ‘The only way is to let him have enough rope to hang himself.’

‘He isn’t safe, I tell you.’

‘He won’t let us down. I trust him.’

‘He may hang us.’

Roger smiled. ‘I said, I trust him. I have spoken to him before, but if you wish, I’ll have another word with him and make him realise he must hold his counsel.’

Bernat nodded and said no more. There was no need. They both knew that the young Baldwin was potentially a threat to them.