Sword of Shadows, page 2
Crispin cleared his throat. ‘No need to spin yarns, Jack. I am an honest man, sir, and do my set task with diligence. I earn my coin well. Anyone in London can vouchsafe for me.’
Teague beamed at Jack. ‘I am heartily glad to hear it, Master Tucker. It’s strange you should say …’ He looked around and crouched over the table, leaning in. Jack and Crispin leaned in to match him. ‘Master Tucker speaks of Round Table Knights, and indeed, my quest is very likened to those knights of old.’ He chuckled. ‘Very likened. Tell me, Master Guest, what do you know of King Arthur, his knights … and Merlin?’
‘As much as any man. Arthur was a king who slew Saxons. Merlin was a sorcerer. His knights did valorous deeds, including search for the Holy Grail.’ He glanced surreptitiously at Jack who returned his knowing look. After all, Crispin himself had found the Grail long ago. Might have.
‘Ah, but you left out something most important,’ said Teague with a gleam in his eyes. ‘What of the sword?’
‘Excalibur? It was said to be a most remarkable weapon.’
‘None could pull it from the stone and anvil that Merlin had enchanted. But Arthur did it on Christmas Eve and was hailed as king.’
‘Yes, we all know the story.’
‘It isn’t just a story, Master Guest.’
‘No. It is the ancient history of Britain.’
‘And a marvelous history it is! Can you imagine, Master Guest, what such a sword would be worth?’
‘A great deal. If it could be proved to be Arthur’s sword. But was it not also told that the sword – perhaps even a different one – was given to Arthur by the Lady of the Lake?’
‘Naturally such tales become embellished with the telling, and by whom. You speak of other poets, do you not?’
‘I recall Geoffrey of Monmouth whose history I was taught. Robert de Boron, Chrétien de Troyes—’
‘All valuable insights, to be sure. And I have studied them too. Very carefully. But what would you say if I were to tell you that I might know where Excalibur is?’
Crispin raised a brow and sat back. ‘I should … question the notion.’
‘Oh? But are you not a man into whose hands falls many a …’ He looked around and leaned even closer. ‘Into whose hands fall objects of much veneration?’ he said in a whisper.
That prickle at the back of his neck was familiar and unwelcome. It meant he was about to embark on yet another dangerous venture that involved something akin to a relic, and he never liked the idea.
Snatching a glance at Jack’s face, he saw that he had worked out the same notion, and his eyes had enlarged with worry.
Crispin sat forward and settled his arms on the table again. ‘Are you saying you want me to help you find Excalibur?’
‘Yes! And an amazing adventure it shall be!’
Crispin stood. Jack belatedly joined him. ‘Master Teague, I have no doubt that you feel your quest is sound and blessed by God, but as you say, I have been tasked with searching for relics and venerated objects many times. It does not settle well with me. Good day.’
He turned to go when he heard the sound of a money pouch and its coins clank on the table. He couldn’t resist looking back.
Gold coins. Far more than he had seen in many a day.
Teague looked up with a sly smile. ‘Yes, Master Guest. This is your part of the payment. There is the sum of sixty pounds here. Enough to buy a … a … warhorse if you should desire one.’
Jack grabbed his arm and squeezed, for he did not look to be able to speak.
Indeed, it took Crispin’s breath away as well. With that sum they could … they could do very well for a long time.
Crispin licked his lips and found his way back to his stool. He slowly sat. ‘I will do nothing illegal or immoral, sir. If you pay me this sum, I will do as asked, but only within the realm of God’s – and the king’s – laws.’
‘On my oath, Master Guest, I would never ask it of you. For you may have rightly surmised, no man with any ill intent could get hold of Excalibur. The sword would never allow it.’
‘Then … what would you want of me?’
‘I will pay you this prize after we have retrieved the sword. And it will take a long journey to get to it. I require your expertise with puzzles and for your protection, for I have heard that you have a facility with weapons.’
It was as if the veil had fallen from his eyes. Crispin raised his head and looked away from the golden coins. ‘I see. After my task is done. You only trust me so much.’
‘It is a great deal of money, after all, Master Guest.’
Crispin nodded. ‘That it is. But I cannot undertake such a task without payment of a surety ahead of time.’
The man reached in the pouch before them and grabbed a handful of gold and silver coins, offering them to Crispin. Staring at it, Crispin finally nodded toward Jack, who scooped them up and spilled them into his money pouch.
‘Thank you,’ said Crispin mildly, though inside he was as thrilled as Jack. ‘Where will we have to travel?’
‘Cornwall. And we must go immediately.’
‘But sir, the weather. Autumn is nearly upon us. Would it not be better to wait for the spring?’
‘We cannot wait. It is now, with you and your man, or I must find another.’
Crispin took a deep breath. He didn’t need to glance at Jack. He could feel the lad vibrating with tension beside him. ‘I should never forgive myself for giving up such a sum. I have a responsibility to my household, after all. And so, Master Teague, you have got yourself the services of the Tracker.’
TWO
It seemed so rushed, so immediate. They went home to pack and for Jack to make up with his wife. It took only mere moments when he told her he’d be gone perhaps a month. They kissed for a long time with tearful goodbyes. Jack gathered his children and embraced them, kissing first Little Crispin, the oldest at four, and then Helen, nearly two, and then the baby in Isabel’s arms, Gilbert. He kissed Isabel again and she clung to him like a vine.
After giving Isabel some of the coins, Crispin made for the door and stood just outside it, having given his farewells to the children who doted on him. He felt uncomfortably like the squire, waiting with the baggage as the knight bade farewell to his ladylove.
Teague bought horses and a cart at the stable down the lane, and with their baggage secured in the cart, and with Crispin and Jack astride their own mounts, they set out along Fleet Street out of London and the long trek to Cornwall.
Crispin rode an elegant chestnut palfrey named Tobias. He seemed to be a good-natured mount, and Crispin couldn’t help but pat his sleek neck to encourage him on his way.
Jack’s was a black hackney named Sebastian, that Tucker insisted on calling Seb, as if they were old friends.
‘How long d’you reckon it will take us, master?’ asked Jack.
Crispin angled his head to glance at the sky. ‘Ten, perhaps twelve days, depending on the weather.’
Jack whistled.
‘Yes,’ said Teague. ‘It is some eighty-five leagues away. But fear not. We will pass through many a town and village. We will have dry quarters to sleep in, and rest for the horses.’
‘You have said very little, sir,’ Crispin began, wrapping the reins around his left hand, ‘why you are so certain that the … the object you seek is there in Cornwall.’
‘Oh, but it is! The stories, Master Guest, are plentiful. And I have already discovered … well. Once we reach our first inn, I will tell you more.’
Crispin scanned the man’s face – placid, pleased even – and reasoned he would extract no more from him. Either it was madness or he truly did know something. At any rate, Crispin was glad he had demanded a portion of his payment. If it turned out the man were mad, he and Jack could make a hasty exit with coin for their trouble. Though – he looked back at the walls of London receding behind him – once he had offered his services, he hated to refuse to do the job.
Teague did not offer more about the sword, but he did speak freely of this and that, stories of journeys he had taken before, ribald tales that he peppered with prayers of forgiveness to the Almighty, and other trifles. He seemed to be a merry man and often given to laughing furiously at his own jokes, even in the midst of telling them. Crispin could tell Jack was charmed, and he had to admit, he was, too.
After some miles far outside of London, they stopped to rest and eat the bread and pasties Teague had brought. The man allowed the cart horse to graze along the verges, and Jack tended to the two saddle horses.
Crispin swallowed the cold meat pie and wiped his lips. ‘Will you not explain yourself further now, Master Teague? Is it not better to speak when we are alone, rather than in a full inn?’
‘Perhaps you are right.’ Teague rose and went to the cart, pulling something from one of his bags. He sat down next to Crispin on a rock and showed him. It looked to be a folded parchment. ‘This, Master Guest. This is as precious and as dear to me as my own life, and I guard it as such. It is a map of the wonders of Arthur.’ He slowly opened it. A shadow fell over it, but it was only Jack, peering over their shoulders. Teague eagerly laid it flat on his thighs, stroking the old, dirtied parchment with his hands. ‘Do you see, Master Guest? Look here.’
He pointed to a spot. The map – if map it was – seemed crudely drawn, but Crispin surmised that it must be of Tintagel. There were certain features marked, with Latin words near each landmark, some as simple as ‘Armor’ and ‘the Staff’. But Crispin couldn’t make much sense of it.
‘This is what you are going by? For this very long journey?’
Teague winked and placed a finger alongside his nose. ‘Only one portion, Master Guest. But with my other parchments I have put together a bit of a puzzle. And I shall surely – with your help, of course – decipher the whole of it. For I have already unearthed finds from King Arthur’s knights. I have them in my cart and I shall show you anon. But I am slowly learning more.’
‘But … what makes you think the sword is at Tintagel? Arthur was born in the castle, but there are no tales of Excalibur being left there.’
The Cornishman smiled. ‘I shall show you anon.’
Jack handed Crispin a wineskin and he tipped it up and drank. Glancing into the distance he thought the sky was darker ahead, the direction they planned to travel. ‘I do not like the look of that sky, Master Teague. I think the horses have rested enough. It would do them better to find an inn for the night.’
‘Indeed, Master Guest. Let us ride.’
Onward they went, and as they rounded a bend in the road, the sky opened up. Crispin pulled his mantle tight about his throat, pulled his hood down over his brow, and rocked with the horse as the cold rain fell.
Late in the afternoon they reached a town and Teague led them to an inn. Wet and tired, the three men tromped into the inn hall to the fire and pulled off their wet things. Teague secured them a room that they would share with others, and they settled at a table near the fire to eat the bean and rabbit stew the innkeeper offered them.
It was there that Teague pulled another folded parchment from his chemise and unfolded it on the table. It looked to be a Latin text, along with illustrations of knights and a king Crispin took to be Arthur. Teague placed his hand on it. ‘Here, Master Guest, is the writing that told me to find what I have where I have. And in it, it talks of Excalibur.’
‘And where did you find such a marvel?’
He folded it quickly and secured it inside his shirt again, folding his cote-hardie over it. ‘I have traveled much, Master Guest. Encountered many an interesting man with a tale to tell. Not all of them yield me treasure, but this one … well.’ He patted his chest where it lay. ‘This one has.’
‘Treasure?’ He frowned. ‘Master Teague, you aren’t a treasure hunter, are you? You know such practices are illegal.’
The naturally ebullient man seemed to shrink. With lowered head he spoke softly. ‘Master Guest, I will not lie to you—’
‘It’s best that you don’t.’
Teague raised his face. ‘Yes, I see you are not a man to trifle with. And so I will confess that … yes, I am a treasure hunter.’
Crispin threw down the bread in his hand and jolted to his feet. ‘God’s blood, man! I told you I will not be party to illegal activity! And now you have cajoled me out in the wilderness to do that very thing.’
‘Hold, Master Guest. You must listen to me. For I have made arrangements with the crown and do my searching on its behalf.’ He held his palm out toward Crispin and gingerly withdrew a folded parchment from his pouch. ‘See here. Look for yourself.’ He held out the parchment bundle. It was festooned with dangling ribbons of leather and wax seals.
Crispin snatched it unapologetically, unfolded it, and read. In a carefully penned hand from an accomplished scribe, Crispin read the decree: that Carantok Teague, gentleman of Cornwall, whose lands encompassed at least one hundred acres, was given permission from the crown to find such diverse treasures across the kingdom as could be found but not by digging in graves or in churches or in barrows of ancient origin with their superstitious intent. All gold was forfeit to the crown. Silver and other such objects could be retained by the said Carantok Teague, gentleman, unless otherwise specified by the crown. The signature was that of King Edward III, King Richard’s grandfather. It was dated in 1377, the last year of Edward’s reign.
Crispin lowered the parchment. ‘How is this possible?’
Jack tugged it from Crispin’s loosened fingers and slowly read for himself.
‘It is a long story, Master Guest.’
Crispin swept his arm across the inn, but meant to encompass beyond the modest inn and across the barren countryside, whose only features were stacked stone walls, a few gathering clutches of trees, a curving road, and sheep. ‘We have the time.’
Teague nodded. ‘Yes.’ He rose, walking slowly toward the hearth. ‘I have no trade, no talent, it seems. Oh, the land keeps my manor well, my servants fed, the taxes paid. At one time I trained for the law, but … Four walls, a darkened room, and the study of the law did not suit me. Instead, I traveled. To the Holy Land, to France, to various pilgrimages in England, and what a vast and varied land this is, our island. I found, quite by accident, a trove in the Holy Land. I sold those goods to fund my further travels. I found, since I was a child, that I did have a talent after all, for finding these places where treasure – well, some might say refuse – was discarded. Rusty old weapons and shields. Broken pots. They had no value, but I found them interesting. They seemed to tell a story, like those tales of old, of Roman legions and Greek warriors. I wish I knew the tales they told. I shall never know. But I found I got the itch, Master Guest. I have heard the same of you. You are fond of the philosopher Aristotle, are you not?’
Despite the intriguing explanation, Crispin bristled. ‘We are not talking of me.’
‘Of course,’ he said, trying to appease, ‘but what if you were to uncover something ancient that belonged to your philosopher? Perhaps something as simple as a spoon. Such a thing may not be of great value, but it might mean a great deal to you. Do you see the sort of excitement such finds engendered in me?’
The spark of a thought ignited within him, and Crispin did dare to imagine finding such a thing. It was akin to seeing the relic of a saint, for such an object would bring him all the closer to the man that he, in many ways, venerated.
He might have spent a long moment dreaming of such a thing … before he abruptly brought himself to the present. ‘Never mind about me,’ he sputtered, embarrassed. ‘How did you come to your agreement with the king?’
‘Well, after some years of my travels, when I returned to England, I found some very interesting objects that seemed to tell tales of ancient Saxon kings. I took myself immediately to court and was received by King Edward himself.’ He reached into a sack lying at his feet and withdrew a bundle wrapped in canvas. Carefully, he unwrapped it. It was a helm, but of a different design than Crispin knew. It was made of a conical piece that only covered the head with a nasal that protected the nose. It was dented and rusted, nothing a king would want. ‘I presented him with a helm such as this … as well as the gold coins I found. He took the gold readily, and when I proposed to him that I could find more, he gave me this charter. I was an eager young man then. I daresay, Master Guest, we are something of the same age.’
Crispin flicked a glance at the man, a little pudgy of face and form, but still fit enough to clamber over his cart and around ancient sites.
‘At any rate,’ Teague went on, ‘with this charter … and the promise that I could keep a portion that I found to sustain my travels, I have made a good living. I keep my doings … restrained.’
Frowning, Crispin paced before the hearth, thinking.
‘And what do you do with the treasure you retain?’
‘Why … I sell them. And gain treasure for myself. But there are some pieces that I keep simply for their miraculous qualities of design. I will show you once we are on the road again in the morning. As I said, Master Guest, I have no trade or talent. Only in the finding of lost things.’ He chuckled. ‘Much like you.’
‘I do not trek across the whole of England, sir. I have plenty of clients in London. And I do not break the law.’
‘So you do. London is a crossroads for the Continent. All manner of folk traverse there. I should think it would be rife with treasure, but alas. It is hard to come by when it might sit under the house of a weaver or under a convent. I shouldn’t like to try to tread softly around all the eyes in London. And …’ He raised the charter that Jack returned to him. ‘As you see, I am not breaking the law.’
‘That charter is under King Edward. Why not renew it under King Richard all this time?’
‘Well, er … King Richard is … dear me. He is not King Edward, I fear. I should prefer to ask forgiveness than permission.’
