by C. M. Harald
The next morning, Law sat outside the gaol, waiting for the procession to leave for the place of execution. Mark, the thief, was removed from the gaol with his hands tied by rope. He was placed on the back of a cart and driven through the city to the outskirts. Law walked along with this procession, listening to the jeers of the city folk.
'This'll teach you, you thieving bastard!' A short woman shouted at the criminal while throwing some rotten food.
'Stealing, he deserves to hang!' Shouted another of the crowd, a rather dirty man.
At various times, items were thrown at the boy on the back of the wagon, rotten food, clods of mud, even stones and the waste off the road. The whole community seemed to be getting behind the theatre of the execution. Law knew that this was quite normal, the whole purpose of the execution was to deter everyone proving that the law was just and brutal, the consequences too high if you were caught. Throughout the journey the boy stood on the back of the wagon, hands tied in front of him, holding his balance against a pole. Holding his face down, trying not to cry, he took the abuse and items that were hurled at him. Law wondered what would be going thorough the mind of the thief. The unfairness, the abuse, the cruelty?
The procession drew up at an empty field outside the city walls, close to the main road. The gibbet was set up here, the previous occupants having recently been removed in preparation for this execution. The cart drew up underneath the gibbet and the hangman set about his business of tying the noose around the boy's neck. He did not struggle seemingly resigned to his death.
Law took up a position a couple of rows from the front. From here he had a clear view of everything, the gibbet suitably high for everyone to see, but he could also see the whole theatre of the occasion. The rope looked enormous around the tiny neck, showing the childlike shoulders and small stature of the young thief. Likewise, the gibbet dwarfed the boy, who looked completely overwhelmed by the whole experience. The condemned looked around in desperation, seeking last minute salvation. The jeering from the crowd continued for quite some time as the boy awaited his fate, however, it eventually died down when the sheriff stepped forward to speak.
'A jury of your peers has found you guilty of theft. The sentence passed is that you shall hang until you are dead.' The sheriff spoke loudly and slowly, his voice audible to the entire crowd, who were taking in every word. The chaplain climbed up onto the cart, and the already attentive crowd strained to hear his much quieter voice. Prayers were said, the thief clearly not listening as he looked for a means of escape with increasing desperation, his earlier resignation long gone.
'We asked the Lord hath mercy upon your soul.' The priest finished, stepping to one side with the sheriff moving to the back of the cart.
'You have been found guilty,' reiterated the sheriff in his clear voice, 'and there can be no further good come of you in this life other than to serve as an example for others.' The crowd nodded, many making noises of agreement.
The priest and sheriff quickly climbed down from the cart and once they were clear the constable moved around to the front of the cart to signal the driver to start the oxen. The cart jerked forward leaving the boy hanging from the rope, twitching in the breeze. A complete hush fell across the crowd as they stopped moving, transfixed by the sight in front of them. There were a few cries of 'Poor boy!', the odd crying baby, but the entire crowd could hear the strangling noises coming from the thief. The boy started to jerk at the end of the rope, his face rapidly moving through red and purple, before settling to a bluish shade, his eyes bulging and extremities twitching. With a scream a woman in the front row of the crowd fainted. Yet still the boy did not die, rather the jerking grew worse and a wet patch emerged on his tights.
Law was mesmerised by the whole process. Here was someone dying as a result of actions he had committed. Lawful actions, of course the boy was guilty, but the horror of the punishment disturbed him more than he had expected it would. The drawn out suffering, the noises and sights, the smell of bowels releasing. Law had not seen a punishment like this before, one that lasted so long. All the hangings he had seen were quick. Clearly the justice of the King was horrific.
Many minutes passed before the body was still, the crowd growing glummer as the spectacle progressed. Even the traders of food, and the young boys attempting to pickpocket among the crowd, grew silent. All were drawn to the clear demonstration that the law was just and terrible, with more than one mind dwelling on crimes they had got away with. Hangings were usually quick, a spectacle, the greatest and most extreme form of entertainment available, a short drop breaking the neck. This hanging scarred all who watched. Law was the most scarred among them, knowing that the trial of the surgeon could have the same outcome and in that case he knew the surgeon was innocent.
'On Wednesday, information given to me, the Sheriff, that a certain John Perry, Carniter of the Leet lay dead of a death other than his rightful death. He was found along the main road north out of the city.' The Sheriff was a rotund man, who clearly enjoyed the fruits of representing the King. He had already passed sentence on the thief a few days previously and today he was due to start hearing the case of the barber surgeon, 'We have summoned the good men of the ward and they will hear the case and pass judgement.' The Sheriff completed the opening formalities and waved forward the jury members who were quickly sworn in with the instruction to diligently examine the case.
The hall was poorly lit, with little natural light piercing the old, and mostly shuttered, windows. Large numbers of candles around the room provided the light to work from. Work was underway to build a new town hall, but until it was complete, the old main hall in the castle keep would have to suffice. The city had, in previous centuries, warranted a stone castle as a supplement for the ancient walls the Romans had built. The castle was now falling into a state of disrepair, but other than a few leaks, the main hall was still usable and served as the primary meeting place for official events, meetings and trials. A small garrison was maintained by one of the local lords, in addition to the city watch, the later present today in their brown tunics, their pikes and halberds excessive for the task of crowd control.
The sheriff sat in a large wooden chair on a raised podium by the vast fireplace. The fire was not lit and as a result the frigid room was colder than usual. To keep himself warm, the sheriff had draped a bear skin across his shoulders. The jury were arranged along benches and stools to one side of the sheriff, angled so that they could see both the sheriff and the crowd in the room. The jury was composed of freemen of good repute. By rights they should have been selected by lot, but the constable had seen to it that only people of the greatest moral repute had been selected for what was the most important trial the city had seen in years, if not ever. Among their number was a merchant of great wealth, unhappy at being taken away from his business by this civic duty, yet still recognising the importance of the task at hand. Tradesmen made up the bulk of the jury, while a few poor, but freemen labourers completed the group. All were male, all were adult and all were taking their role seriously, aware that a great moral gathering had been enacted.
The rest of the room was taken up by the space for the defendant and the area in which a crowd of the interested stood, jostling for position. Many people had skipped work, or closed their business early, so that they could be present at the trial. They were certain that salacious details would quickly emerge, fuelling their love of gossip. There was a general certainty that the barber surgeon was guilty of murder and that the trial would be a perfunctory event before an entertaining execution, their blood-lust not abated by the distasteful death of the thief.
The defendant was brought into the room chains around his wrists. Well dressed, in his finest and most refined clothes, he wore the evidence that surgery paid well, even if there was not always enough work. The time in the gaol had not done Alvin much good and his skin was sallow in the candlelight. Made to sit on a chair opposite the jury, so that they could judge his reactions, Alvin was very
aware of their looks and knew he was on show. Two armed members of the town watch stood guard over him, their halberds held smartly at their sides. The surgeon looked concerned, but was not the terrified mess that the crowd had expected, with some interpreting this as confidence, while others saw it as smugness.
The first person to give witness was Eric Constable. As the official in charge, who had later attended the scene, and as the senior enforcer of the King's law in the city, he was to outline the case against the surgeon, the scene and the evidence found. He did this in great detail, outlining how the surgeon was found in the clearing by a group of citizens, apparently practicing some form of magic while torturing Perry the carniter, who died as they arrived. The tools of the surgeon's trade were laid out and he deftly summarised the defence the surgeon had offer, that he was a good Samaritan, helping out the victim of a hocking gone too far.
'What is your opinion on the matter at hand?' The sheriff leaned forward in his chair, interested in the response of the constable.
'I am unclear. Either story could be true. The tools of the surgeon's trade were present and had clearly been used to cauterise a stab wound. This part fits with the surgeon's story. However, there were many witnesses of the death of the carniter and they talk of a scene of ritual murder and foul spirits assailing the Carniter at his death.' Constable paused and thought carefully about what he was going to say next, 'For the most part, Donald Alvin has an excellent reputation in these parts, although there were concerns over his involvement in the death of Col Butcher, so it is a reputation recently tarnished. Then there is the matter of the surgeon's claim that Judd the pig herder was one of the original assailants of the carniter. I have found no evidence to support the surgeon's defence, but the court may decide otherwise. That is all that is relevant for now.'
'Thank you for your testimony.' The sheriff dismissed the constable, 'We may recall you to shed light on the testimony we will now hear from others in this interesting case. Far more interesting than the adjudging of false accounting and petty thefts.'
The next witness summoned was Judd, as the person who had led the group that discovered the surgeon and the carniter. The pig herder walked to the front confidently, and by his standards smartly dressed, although no-one else in the room would have agreed.
'I was out on the path when I near stumbled upon them,' Judd said once the formalities were out of the way, 'It looked like Donald Alvin was torturing the carniter and had been at it all night. Clearly something was up, and I didn't want to take on a madman on my own, so I rushed back to the city to get others so that we could detain the surgeon for justice. There was me and two others.' There were noises of agreement from the crowd, clearly the people who had helped him and their friends.
'It was horrible. There were these dark miasmas there, we could smell recently burnt flesh and the surgeon had clearly been torturing the poor carniter with hot irons, some of which were still laid out where we could see them.' Gasps sounded around the hall, 'There was potions as well. It was like the stories the priests tell us, summoning up demons from hell.' Shouts of 'Burn him!' were heard over the loud clamour in the hall as people expressed their horror, while those who had been there confirmed Judd's story was true. Anyone who looked at the surgeon would have seen the horror on his face, but few bothered, wanting to hear Judd's story of bravery from the source.
Judd waited for the noise to die down before continuing his story, no longer talking to a formal setting, but telling a story to an interested crowd, 'We gathered together our small band and talked through what we would do. We could have run, we were small in number, but we had to challenge this evil.' There was a cheer from the back of the hall and Judd felt empowered, even heroic, 'I said to the band, "We've got to stop this evil." So we carefully approached, playing innocent so we could get close so the devil-worshipper would not be able to cast his spells on us.' The hall was entranced by the story, Judd dropping his voice just as he had heard storytellers do to heighten the atmosphere, 'When we could creep no closer we challenged him. The surgeon thought he could talk his way out of it. He said he'd come across his victim, wounded on the road from a robbery or some such. Even claimed that a couple of men had set about Perry. But we knew different, everything he said had an odour of sulphur. I shouted "grab him!" and we charged forward.' Judd shouted this out and the crowd jumped, entranced by his careful story-telling.
'We searched him and there was a bag of money on him, way too much for just a surgeon, besides he had two different bags. One on him and another in his pack. Before we caught him, I'd said it looked like a robbery, and then we catch him with two lots of coin. I reckon he'd even used some of the coin in the devil-worship he was about, some sort of offering to the devil.' There were shocked gasps at the accusation. The surgeon glared at Judd, clearly angry, but did not shout out or contradict him. Judd knew if the surgeon interrupted, it would only add to the air of guilt building around the the man, but Judd also knew that if the surgeon stayed quiet, he would still seem guilty.
Judd decided to add more fuel to the fire to make sure the surgeon had no way out, 'When we searched his pack, we also found potions, herbs and other concoctions. Some were vile and evil smelling, and I swear that one was hemlock, stinking like rotten parsnips. There was belladonna berries, which we all know is used by witches and poisoners. What would a surgeon need such things for?' Judd tried to play the audience by asking the question, but they were all so absorbed in his story, there was no response, 'He'd say for the pain, but we all know that surgery comes with pain, whatever we do. I say he is a devil worshipper and poisoner. And I say he poisoned Col Butcher as well for his nefarious ends!' This new accusation caused a mighty stir, even though the constable had previously mentioned that the death of the butcher may have been linked, no-one had come out with it so explicitly. People around the hall were shocked. Some cried out in surprise, others looked bewildered at their neighbours. One woman even shouted out 'I told you so.' Judd looked around, the whole of the crowd were coming around to his way thinking, he had judged the situation well. Even the jury looked concerned, several of them leaning forward on their chairs, waiting upon his next words.
'Silence! Silence! 'The sheriff shouted above the noise. 'I will have order in here.' The noise died back, 'Witness, what is it that accusation that you make? What is this other death you are talking about?'
'My Lord Sheriff, Col Butcher, tradesmen of good local repute died not long before the murder we are trying, in suspicious circumstances as the constable previously outlined. I might add,’ The whole hall was silent as Judd expanded the accusation, several people recognising suspicions that they also shared, 'That the death was very sudden and unusual. Some people thought it was his wife who killed him. For I knew that the surgeon had been after the butcher for a long time, some petty rivalry of the heart. The butcher died suddenly and people thought he had been poisoned as he was found raving around the city the night before he died. Well, we've caught the surgeon with poisons on him, the kinds of poisons that can be used to kill a strong healthy man very quickly. What's more, the surgeon was here in the city when it happens. He was even questioned about it by the constable.'
'I will speak with the constable on this detail in private.' The sheriff was thoughtful and addressing Judd declared, 'We shall enter a recess I may call you back as a witness when we return.'
The court recessed for several hours. It was after midday when Judd was summoned back as a witness. He took his place confidently, the whole hall silent, awaiting the outcome.
'I have decided that the death of Col Butcher may be linked.' The sheriff explained patiently, 'The constable has told me about his investigation of the death and the rumours surrounding it. Witness, after I have finished with you, I will call back the constable so that the jury can be informed of the details. Now witness, tell me about your role in all this.'
'What do you mean sir?' Judd replied.
'I mean,' the sheriff said, 'Why has Donald Al
vin, the surgeon, accused you of killing John Perry?'
Judd looked dismissive, as well as a little shocked, 'Why would he not accuse me? He is trying to save his own skin. He's clearly a desperate man who is casting around for any opportunity to escape his fate.' This was said with confidence.
'So there is no substance to these accusations? Please explain.' Insisted the sheriff.
'It is his devilish behaviour that sows the seeds of doubt and discord among us, Sir.' Judd looked directly at the jury as he continued, 'When I had stumbled across them, I knew something was amiss and went off to fetch help. If I'd just been quicker we would have arrived in time, at least to hear the last words of poor old John Perry, who would no doubt have accused the surgeon of these foul deeds.'
'But Alvin claims you planted the purse of money upon him when seizing him.' The sheriff stated, 'What do you say to this?'
'Lies! The surgeon is lying. I'm just a poor pig herder. I would never give away that sort of money so easily. If I had that kind of money it would be spent in the tavern not thrown away on a guilty man.' The noise around the hall suggested that the crowd believed him as well. With a few perfunctory questions, the sheriff dismissed him, recalling the constable to present the investigation into the death of Col Butcher to the jury.
'Judd, we thought Perry murdered Butcher. That's one of the reasons we hocked him.' Law was leaning across his ale in the tavern, the closeness to his friend and the general noise preventing them from being overheard. The tavern was buzzing with discussion about the events of the day. Such a trial was unprecedented in the city, devilish magic, murder and now the jury being instructed to consider the possibility of another murder by the surgeon. Judd had been the centre of attention when they had arrived, with many people wanting to buy the key witness a drink in exchange for him retelling his story. Eventually Judd had satisfied them, and both Judd and Law had retired to a corner table, slightly the worse for wear from the copious amounts of alcohol.