The Medieval Murderers - Sword of Shame

‘Sir William?’ It was his steward. The man was at Hob’s side, and he looked with concern at his master. ‘Sir, do you want me to send for the Keeper and his Bailiff?’

‘Do as you will! Give me that sword,’ Sir William snapped, and carried it into the hall.

Baldwin and Simon rode as fast as a Dartmoor farmer with the devil’s wish-hounds at their backs. Every so often Simon would throw an anxious look at his friend, but all he could see was a troubled desperation as the knight raked his spurs along his mount’s flanks, whipping the reins and staring ahead.

Simon usually enjoyed the thrill of a race along a roadway, the wind crackling and snapping at his cloak, the rush in his ears, the roar and clatter of hooves on the metalled surfaces, but not today. There was something deeply troubling Baldwin, and that thought was uppermost in his mind as they leaned into the corners, ever trying to increase their speed. The lanes narrowed, then widened, and suddenly they were at the Bow road, and could hurtle along, then drop down the hillside into the town itself.

He had assumed that they were aiming for the town’s market hall, for no specific reason, but Baldwin reined to a halt at the inn a little farther down the hill. He threw himself from the horse, shoved the reins through a ring in the wall, and waited impatiently for Simon before throwing the door wide and bellowing for the innkeeper.

‘Last night-did Roger de Tracy stay here?’

‘Him? No.’

Baldwin swore under his breath.

‘So that’s it? He had the sword all along. He murdered Coule, and now he’s bolted because he feels we’re too close to him,’ Simon said bitterly.

Baldwin gazed at him in surprise. ‘Roger? In Good God’s name, no ! I fear he’s been killed too!’

It took Baldwin a little time to track down the local watchmen. In the end he took the simple expedient of grabbing the horn from the belt of a passing man and blowing on that. Before long, several men had arrived and were standing watching him with suspicious, surly faces.

‘I’m the constable. What’s the hue and cry for?’

‘I am Keeper of the King’s Peace, Sir Baldwin de Furnshill. I am seeking master Roger de Tracy. He didn’t return home last night, and he didn’t stay at the inn here. I want you to organize a posse and find him. If he’s not in the town itself, he may be injured and lying in a ditch somewhere between Sir John de Curterne’s house or the castle at Nymet Tracy.’

‘That might take days!’

‘Then you had best hurry yourself, master constable, hadn’t you?’ Baldwin said nastily. ‘And in the meantime, send a man to the castle to let them know.’

The constable had taken a step back as the knight had leaned towards him, anxious to have upset a man of such power, but now, as he was about to shout for a lad to ride to the castle, there was a rattle of hooves coming down the lane, and Simon recognized one of the grooms from the castle. ‘What’s he want?’

Baldwin chewed at his lip. ‘This is all going ill, I fear.’

‘Where was the thing?’ Baldwin demanded of Hob.

The miller stood disconsolate at his harsh tone, his head hanging. Simon was sitting near Sir William, while Alice had a seat a short distance behind them. Baldwin gripped the sword in his right hand, studying the metalwork.

‘It was right near the place where Coule’s body had lain. I think it was shoved there in a hurry, for it was not well hidden. Just had some leaves and twigs thrown over it.’

‘It was wrapped in that?’ Baldwin prodded the folds of sacking with the point of the sword. The point was scratched and marked, he saw. It needed a good polish.

‘Yes. And shoved under a blackthorn. I only saw it because I caught a glint from it when I rode past.’

‘Why was it not seen before?’ Simon wondered.

‘I don’t know. But the blade has blood on it still. Perhaps some creature smelled that, and pulled the cloth aside to see if there was food inside?’

Simon nodded. Hob had lost all his earlier affability, and now stood as though terrified. Well, that was understandable. Many were petrified when questioned in front of their master, and this fellow was a villein. ‘And you happened to be wandering this way?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Why?’ he asked gently.

‘Sir?’

‘Why were you wandering over here? You said yesterday that you rarely came this way except when you brought milled flour for the castle. When were you here last?’

‘Day before that.’

‘And you were asked to return only two days later?’ Simon asked smoothly.

Baldwin sucked at his teeth, glanced at Simon, and jerked his head to the door. ‘You must take us there and show us exactly where you found the thing. Sir William, do you wish to accompany us?’

Sir William shrugged sulkily and motioned with his hand. ‘You go. I’ve things to do.’

Simon threw him a look as he left the hall. Sir William’s eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the sword, and there was in his face an expression of such revulsion and loathing, Simon was shocked for a moment. He stood still, staring, even as Alice rose from her seat and went to her man, her arms going about his stiff shoulders. In her face, Simon saw relief as well as resignation, but when she looked across at him, he was chilled by her expression. It was sly delight.

‘Here?’ Baldwin demanded.

‘Yes, sir,’ Hob replied quietly.

They had hurried as quickly as Hob’s casual trot allowed. He had no riding horse, and had never learned the skill of horsemanship, so the other two were forced to travel at little more than a gentle amble. By the time they reached the spot, it was well past noon, and the sun was in their eyes as they turned westwards along Hob’s lane.

Baldwin glanced about him, then dropped from his horse. ‘When do you say you found the thing?’

‘It was this morning. I took it to the castle as soon as I found it.’

‘Why were you coming along here today?’

Hob’s mouth opened, but his dismayed expression told Baldwin enough.

‘Hold! Good Miller, don’t lie to me! It won’t do. You should have invented a reason before going to the castle.’

As he spoke he was moving swiftly about the roadway, glancing this way and that. Soon he found a patch of dried soil, and he bent to study it. Up again, he strode to the bush Hob had indicated. ‘It lay just here?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You must have good eyesight. Come here!’ He stood behind Hob and gripped his shoulders. ‘Where were you standing when you saw it?’

‘Master, I…’

‘This is a few yards from where the body was found. Only a very few. And you suggest to me that the coroner and juries could have missed it? There are footprints all over this place. If the sword had lain there, someone would have stumbled over it.’

‘But I saw it!’

Baldwin smiled grimly. ‘From where, master Miller? Where were you when you say you saw it?’

There was a silence. Simon dropped from his horse and his face wore a harder expression now as he joined the other two. ‘Well?’

Baldwin released the miserable miller, who covered his face with his hands and stood quietly trembling.

‘Perhaps if I tell you, then,’ Baldwin said. ‘There was a visitor to you today, who told you to be cautious, to be very careful, and who gave you that sword. Isn’t that right? And told you to bring the thing to the castle and say you found it here. Yes?’

‘I can’t say, sir! If I say yes, I’ll be dead. If I say no, you’ll have me arrested. What would you have me do? Condemn myself for opening my mouth?’

‘You already have, Miller,’ Baldwin said uncompromisingly.

The body was discovered in the late afternoon. One of Sir John’s peasants saw crows and magpies squabbling, and set off to learn why. When he reached the woods where they had been, he found the corpse.