The Medieval Murderers - The Deadliest Sin

‘All very interesting, I’m sure,’ Giles said impatiently. ‘But we’re here to find the cross, so where is it?’

Oswin pointed to the shrine.

‘He’s right,’ Robert said. ‘At the back there’s a loose stone. The base of the shrine is hollow.’

All of them crowded round behind the shrine. Oswin placed the lantern close to it, then, pulling the knife from his belt, slid the blade between two of the stones and gently prised the stone forward, first on one side, then the other, until he could get enough of a grip on it to drag it from its resting place. He reached in, a look of undisguised elation on his face, but as the others watched his expression changed to a frown.

‘It was a snug fit,’ Robert warned. ‘You’ll have to tilt it backwards to get it out and in the name of the Blessed Virgin whatever you do, don’t damage it.’

But when Oswin’s hand emerged, it was clutching only a wad of sheep’s wool, tangled in a piece of cord. ‘There’s nothing there. It’s empty!’

‘That’s impossible,’ Robert cried. ‘You can’t be reaching in far enough. You’ve pulled the wrappings off, that’s what you’ve done, and left the cross in there. Here, let me.’

He almost flung Oswin aside and kneeled on the wet grass. Pulling up his sleeve, he reached into the shrine, twisting and turning his arm as he groped his way over every inch, his expression becoming ever more frantic.

‘It’s gone. It’s gone,’ he shrieked.

John hauled him out of the way and stuck his great fist inside and flailed around, bringing down a shower of dirt and small stones, but he could find nothing. Eustace followed, methodically working over every surface, but in the end he also was forced to withdraw empty-handed.

‘It’s not there,’ he announced, as if there could be any doubt in the matter. ‘That space would only just have contained it, as Robert says.’

‘Could some stones have fallen down on top and buried it?’ Giles asked, the only one not to have tried feeling for it.

‘It’s just bare earth on the bottom, nothing fallen, as far I could feel,’ Eustace said, ‘apart from what John brought down, of course. Besides, any fall would have covered the wrappings too. He pointed to the wool and cord still gripped in Oswin’s hand. ‘That is what you wrapped it in, Robert?’

He didn’t answer. He was sitting on the wet ground, his head clutched in his hand, groaning and rocking.

‘Someone must have watched you put it there and taken it,’ Eustace said.

‘But I was so careful,’ Robert wailed. ‘I waited until it was dark this evening and searched round thoroughly to make sure I was alone. What am I going to do? If it isn’t back by morning…’ He buried his head in his hands again, muttering what might have been either a prayer or a curse.

‘You told us this was a pagan place,’ Oswin said. ‘Witches and sorcerers use familiars in the form of hares, cats or ravens to bring them word. Was there an animal or bird close by?’

‘What would a witch want with a cross?’ Giles said. ‘It’d burn her if she touched it.’ His eyes narrowed as he stared at Oswin. ‘But you, on the other hand, you knew where the cross was and you disappeared with the lantern while we were hiding from the two riders. When you came back to find us you admitted you’d already been here. You had plenty of time to take it.’

‘And why, in heaven’s name, would I do that?’ Oswin demanded. ‘The whole point of the wager was for me to prove to you I could find it.’

Robert’s head jerked up. ‘Maybe being necromancer isn’t enough for you.’

He scrambled to his feet to face Oswin, his face contorted in anger. ‘You want to ingratiate yourself still further by discovering a thief. That would certainly get you noticed, wouldn’t it? You always said you’d be a bishop before you were thirty. What are you planning to do? Wait until they discover the cross is missing, then produce it before the whole Cathedral Chapter, claiming you’d divined where the thief had hidden it? It’s not enough for you to have us humble clerics admire your talents. That won’t help you advance. No, you need the bishop and every priest in Lincolnshire to know just how clever you are. Maybe if you’re lucky, word might even reach the Archbishop of Canterbury himself.’

Oswin fumbled with the buttons fastening his cloak and wrenched it from his shoulders, throwing it on the ground between him and Robert. He held his arms out wide.

‘Come on then,’ he taunted. ‘If you really believe I have the cross why don’t you search me? Want me to strip naked to make it easier?’

He whipped round to face Giles. ‘As for me having time to take it when the riders were passing, that applies to every one of you. Any of you could have slipped to the shrine while the others were hiding and taken it. And unlike me, you all had good reason. You all wanted me to fail to find it, so I’d lose the wager. You most of all, Giles, and you, John, because neither of you could afford to pay. You both admitted as much in the tavern. And with your fondness for gambling, you’d find the money very useful, if I had to pay you, wouldn’t you, John? So let’s search everyone, shall we?’

John pushed his way in front of Giles, his huge fists clenched. ‘Are you calling me a swindler, you steaming pile of pig shit?’

Before Oswin could reply, Eustace had stepped between them. ‘You claimed to have found the cross once already tonight, Oswin, so why can’t you tell where it’s gone now, or was that just a lucky guess? After all, you too dine with the subdean, so you could just as easily have heard about this place as Robert did.’

‘I’ve heard about a hundred places, how would I know which Robert would choose?’ Oswin said indignantly.

‘Unless you two are in collusion,’ Giles said. ‘Brothers of the glorious Cathedral are bound to stick together against us mere scullions who labour in the common churches. But Eustace is right. Here’s your chance to prove your talents to us once and for all. Go on, find the cross now!’

Oswin was almost white with rage. ‘I told you,’ he said, through gritted teeth. ‘The rite can only be performed on consecrated ground. Why do you think we went to that pigpen of a chapel? Because, unlike a shrine, it has a relic. I could go back there, but the time that would take would give the thief ample opportunity to whisk the cross far away. Or is that the idea, Giles? Get us out of the way, so you can carry it off?’

Oswin was breathing hard, trying to control his temper. ‘Look, if one of us took it, he would have had to conceal it somewhere nearby, under some fallen leaves or in a hollow tree, with the intention of returning for it later,’ he added, glaring pointedly at Giles. ‘There wouldn’t have been time for any of us to carry it far and return to the track again. So I suggest we search for it.’

The Black Crows eyed each other with hostility, but since no one else seemed to have a better solution, they reluctantly agreed to separate and search, drawing lots with dice as to who should go in which direction. After further heated argument as to who should get the lantern, it was decided to leave it in the centre of the clearing where its light could guide them back.

They disappeared into the trees. The whining of the wind in the branches mingled with the sounds of shoes shuffling through fallen leaves, of sticks poking under sodden vegetation, and the occasional cry of hope as they struck against something hard, only to find it was a stone or a rusting horse-shoe. In front of them, the wind-whipped bushes and trees loomed out of the darkness as assassins waiting to trip and tear, scratch and strike. Like sailors in a storm, they kept glancing back towards the clearing, fearful of losing sight of the faint yellow glow that appeared and disappeared behind the swaying bushes.