The Medieval Murderers - Sword of Shame

‘Perhaps that is not your concern. Leave justice to the judges.’

‘True. But if I were to enter a monastery, I would expect Alice also to join a convent. She knows that. It colours her judgement. If the sword is found again, perhaps I should remain here to guard it. If it comes back, God doesn’t consider me deserving of the peace life in a monastery would grant me. Ach, I don’t know! What should I do? If you find the thing, I will be bound to remain here-if you don’t, I shall be better pleased.’

‘One issue concerns me,’ Simon said. ‘How can you be so sure that this was your sword? I heard that it was discovered recently by your father and he brought it back. Had he seen it before?’

‘My father was convinced when he bought it. That’s enough for me.’

‘Where did he find it?’

‘A trader in Cyprus with some outlandish name. Zuliani or something, who said it was definitely the sword which Sir William de Tracy had used to murder St Thomas. There was no doubt.’

Baldwin said nothing to that. He had met traders in Cyprus and other bazaars about the world, and if he had met an honest one, the experience had evaded his notice. ‘What was your father doing out there?’

‘I think he had the urge to follow in Sir William de Tracy’s footsteps. He only reached as far as Cyprus, but he was able to visit shrines and pilgrimage sites even so. When he brought it back, he was proud! Proud ! I wanted nothing to do with it, and when my father died only a short while later, I put it to rest, safely locked in that trunk.’

‘Except on that day of all days you left the chest unlocked. You had a good reason to wish the sword to be lost. Who else would have desired it gone?’

Sir William’s face darkened and he took a long draught of ale. ‘Plainly the thief who walked into my hall and took it,’ he spat.

‘So you say, but what would he have done with it?’ Baldwin asked. ‘It is a pretty thing, I daresay, but what use is beauty in a weapon that can never be shown or used? If he had ever drawn that steel, he would have been instantly accused of stealing it. I find this idea that he wandered aimlessly into your hall and stole this valuable and famous sword quite incomprehensible. Unless he had been paid to take it, there is no reason why he should have taken it. Someone else must either have wanted it, or wanted it to be gone. It is fair to say that you wanted it gone, and could have paid this man to remove it. Who else had a similar desire?’

Sir William lifted his head truculently, staring. ‘You accuse me of having my own sword stolen?’

His voice was low and little more than a whisper. Seeing how his face had paled, Baldwin nodded slowly. ‘Perhaps you should consider telling the truth now, Sir William.’

That evening was quiet in the castle. The servants had felt the mood of their master, and all were reserved and cautious in his presence. Simon and Baldwin sat with the lord and his wife on the dais to eat, while half his household ate in the main hall.

Simon and Baldwin spoke little, which was much to the bailiff’s taste. Today he felt that talking would be a foolish occupation. He was happier filling his belly with good meat and wine than chatting with the depressing company about the table. There was a sense almost of despair about the place. Simon was almost sad that Roger was not with them.

Sir William spoke not at all, but sat grimly toying with his food, while his wife chewed at hers with a grim determination, with many a loving look at her man. As she finished, she set her hand on his, affectionately, so Simon thought.

If it was intended to comfort or strengthen him, it failed. He snatched his hand away, and she looked desolate. ‘My love!’

Sir William shook his head, then eyed her slyly and raised his goblet in a toast. ‘No, dear. No longer. Gentlemen! Please, raise your glasses to honour us! As soon as I may I shall leave here and all will go to Roger. I shall expect my wife to join a convent to serve Christ as I go to Tavistock to serve God. It is good! Freedom from the world at last!’

‘Where is your brother tonight?’ Simon asked after he had drained his mazer.

‘He rode off earlier. Often he will go into town to mingle with the folk there,’ Sir William said with distaste. ‘He may deign to return later. If he has any sense, he’ll stay there the night: he knows I won’t have my gates opened between sunset and dawn without good reason. If he stays in Bow, all well and good. If he behaves in the way I expect, he’d find it hard to mount his horse in any case. I only hope we don’t have complaints from another peasant’s father about a squalling brat in nine months.’

Later, Simon and Baldwin went to walk about the walls where they could be alone.

Simon muttered, ‘I’ve visited happier tombs.’

‘There is a great deal of restrained anguish in this place,’ Baldwin said. ‘I shall be glad to leave. This is not a happy home. The sword has brought only misery.’

‘They were all happier when it was gone.’

‘Yes. A curious superstition.’

Simon winced. Baldwin had always been scathing about those who ascribed evil fortune to the devil, and had often derided the bailiff’s sensible precautions against the evil eye or the other signs of bad luck. ‘If it’s truly evil, it’s sensible to be glad to be rid of it.’

‘Then they might throw it away. The idea that an inanimate slab of metal has the ability or desire to harm people is ridiculous. A man does not discover an urge to kill by proximity with a weapon.’

‘A man might kill in a rash fit of rage if he has access to a weapon, though.’

‘And if he has no sword or mace, if there is no knife or dagger available, he will reach for a club, a rock or a walking staff. What would you do, remove all tools from a man’s hand in case it might be used as a weapon in the future?’

‘Of course not!’

‘No. It is a facile, ridiculous solution. And no more than the innocent stone snatched up to brain a man, or the entirely unmalicious walking staff, or a kindly fist, no more does that sword represent evil. There is nothing evil in a lump of metal, Simon; only in the mind of the man who wields it. The sword is innocent. The man who gripped it is the murderer. It is he whom we must catch!’

‘Is there much possibility of that?’

Baldwin glanced at him, then stared out over the dark land below the walls. ‘I hope so, Simon. I hope so. Tomorrow we must ride to Down St Mary and speak to Sir John de Curterne. Perhaps we shall learn more there.’

‘Let’s hope so,’ Simon said, but then he touched Baldwin’s sleeve. Down in the court he had seen a pair of figures, and even as Baldwin followed his pointing finger, and the two people stepped silently into the shadows, Simon breathed, ‘So what would Madam Alice have to say so urgently to Denis, do you think?’

‘I am not sure,’ Baldwin said, but his face was troubled.

Sir John de Curterne eyed his visitors with a degree of amusement mixed with suspicion. ‘So, let me guess: this is about that damned sword of Sir William’s? And you want to ask me whether I wanted to have my own reeve murdered, I suppose?’

Baldwin took the seat proffered. ‘No. We know why your man stole the sword.’

‘You accuse a dead man?’ Sir John’s face darkened. ‘That is vile: slandering a man who is unable to defend himself. Speak no ill of the dead!’

‘He was paid handsomely to steal that sword, Sir John. And then someone else decided to retrieve it.’

‘Sir William’s brother?’

The shrewdness of the knight’s eyes made Baldwin frown quickly. ‘Why do you think that?’

‘He wishes the sword to be gone, for then his brother might relinquish the world and step inside a convent. There is no secret about this: Sir William has willingly told all he meets that he wishes to be free of the guilt he feels for his name and the sword’s crime.’