The Grail Murders

and masked, though they had crude Templar crosses painted on their cloaks. I think they were more than just a maurading band of outlaws.'
    Benjamin walked into the line of trees and stared through the snow-dripping darkness. 'A dozen you say, Roger?' 'At least, Master.' 'Then why didn't they kill you immediately?' ‘I don't know!' I snapped. 'But when they come back, I'll ask them!'
    'No, no, you have been brave enough, Roger. I think they either wanted to question you or give you a warning. What it does prove,' Benjamin continued, 'is that they have the manor watched. They must have seen you follow Santerre.' He looked over his shoulder at me. 'And why aren't you pursuing him?'
    There's no need. For some reason the pompous bastard has decided to return to Glastonbury. He must have pressing business there. Perhaps,' I added, 'Santerre's a Templar and has gone to warn his masters that one of Mandeville's men has already been killed.' I got up and drained the rest of the wineskin.
    'I'd give a bag of gold,' Benjamin murmured, 'to know what has taken Santerre to Glastonbury. Perhaps you should have followed him.'
    'And do what?' I shouted, my legs still shaking with fright. 'Wandered into the monastery and said, "Oh, what a coincidence! What are you doing here, Sir John?" Anyway,' I nodded into the trees, 'perhaps those bastards would have struck before I reached Glastonbury. There are enough woods, marshes and fog-shrouded moors to hide a bloody army in this Godforsaken land!' I patted my horse, whispering my thanks to him, then mounted. 'I'm going back to Templecombe,' I moaned. 'I'm tired, wet, pissed off, really pissed off, Master, and I have had enough!' I looked evilly at him. 'Anyway, what were you doing here?'
    Benjamin remounted and grinned at me. 'I am still intrigued by that witch. I was trying to find the place we met her yesterday morning when I heard you shouting and the sounds of ambush so I rode to investigate.' He pushed his horse nearer and grasped me by the arm, his long dark face, usually solemn, wreathed in smiles.
    'Come on, my warrior prince,' he murmured. 'What's a few footpads to a man like Shallot, eh?'
    (I felt like telling him those bastards had aged me by years, but I suppose we have to keep up a brave face.)
    'Come on.' Benjamin kicked his horse forward. 'Let's see if we can find where the old witch lives.' Moaning and groaning, I rode alongside. We were almost near Templecombe gates when Benjamin and I both decided that we had found the gap in the trees through which she had fled and, despite my warnings, he insisted on going in.
    If the old witch was a prophet, then so was I, for we had hardly ridden a bow's length into the trees when Benjamin declared himself lost. The wood was thick, the undergrowth covered in snow; even in summer it would have been difficult to follow the trackway. It was already getting dark and so, to my relief, Benjamin decided to turn back.

Chapter 9
    At Templecombe we found everyone going about their own business. After stabling our horses, my master muttered that he had business to attend to and wandered off to his chamber. I went looking for Mathilda and found her working in the buttery with the other maids. She threw me a warning glance, telling me with her eyes to stay well away. I begged a tankard of ale from a surly cook and went to warm myself before the hall fire until my master roused me.
    'Come on, Roger, we have work to do. I have been thinking about that riddle. Perhaps the old Templar chapel can provide an answer.'
    I was warm and sleepy but my master kept haranguing me: compliance seemed the easiest way out so I put on my boots, grabbed my cloak and accompanied him down to the Templar chapel. The door was open. Inside, Mandeville and Southgate were standing near the baptismal font.
    'So the wanderer has returned?' Southgate sneered. 'What brings you here?' 'The riddle,' Benjamin replied.
    'We've already thought of that,' Mandeville muttered. 'But there's no Jordan water here, or Moses' Ark.' He pointed down the church. 'Damien's in the sanctuary. We found a pinewood arrow box.' Mandeville bit his lip. 'What's left of poor Cosmas has been sheeted, coffined, and lies before the altar. It's the least we could do.' He forced a smile. 'I would appreciate it, Master Daunbey, if you would go there, say a prayer and offer Damien your condolences.'
    Benjamin agreed. We walked down the dark, dingy nave under the simple rood screen into the sanctuary. The