Blacksmiths And Criminals
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“I’m not sure how I feel about this,” said the blacksmith. “It’s a bit too much like being back in prison.” He was standing on one of the platforms that had been built to hold prisoners, and he looked down at his feet as if they were made from iron bars instead of wood.
The platform itself was only two or three inches above ground level; it wasn’t really high enough for him to be able to see over the wall without stooping. But even so, there seemed something wrong with looking out across the fields and woods beyond the city walls while still having the feeling that you’re surrounded by guards who are ready to arrest anyone who steps outside their lines.
The other men around him didn’t seem bothered though. They all stood on similar platforms, some of them looking up towards the sky through gaps between the wooden slats, others staring off into space, lost in thought. Most of the people here were criminals: thieves and murderers, rapists and arsonists – but also those whose crimes weren’t quite so serious.
There was a man sitting next to the blacksmith who’d stolen money from an old lady because she wouldn’t give him any more food than what he needed, another man who’d killed someone when he got drunk and started fighting, and yet another who’d hit his wife after finding her in bed with another man.
All of these men were serving time in the dungeons beneath the castle until they could pay for their crimes to be expunged. Now they were waiting to go before the king himself and ask for clemency.
The blacksmith sighed and rubbed his hands together nervously. It felt strange to be standing on top of a platform in front of dozens of armed soldiers, knowing that if anything went wrong then he would probably end up dead. His heart was pounding hard against his chest, and he couldn’t help thinking that this whole thing might have been better left alone.
If he hadn’t tried to take advantage of the situation and steal the crown jewels, none of this would ever have happened.
But now he was here, and he knew he had no choice but to do whatever was asked of him. After all, there was nothing else he could possibly do.
He turned away from the window and looked around at the rest of the room. A few dozen men were gathered in groups of four or five, talking quietly among themselves. Some of them were wearing chains around their ankles and wrists, and most of them were dressed in rags rather than proper clothes.
One man was lying on a pallet, covered in blood and vomit, while another sat in a corner sobbing uncontrollably. The blacksmith walked over to join a group of three other men who were standing near the edge of the platform. As soon as he arrived, they stopped talking and stared at him expectantly.
“Hello,” he said awkwardly. “My name is John Smith.”
One of the men stepped forward and took a step closer to him. He was tall, thin, and wore a long beard that hung almost to his waist. His eyes were dark and narrow, and he glared at the blacksmith suspiciously.
“What’s your business?” he demanded.
John hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to answer the question. Finally, he decided that honesty was the best policy.
“I’m here to beg the king for mercy,” he replied. “And I need to speak with him urgently.”
The man nodded slowly. “You’ll find the king in the main hall, just inside the gatehouse. Follow me.”
As the man led him away, the blacksmith glanced back at the window behind him. It was impossible to tell exactly where he was going from here, but judging by the way the buildings were arranged he guessed that he must be heading towards the castle gates. Once again he found himself wondering why he’d agreed to come along. What did he think he was doing? Wasn’t it obvious that he should have stayed well clear of the palace?
Ahead of him, the man carrying his belongings came to a sudden halt. He put down the sack containing the blacksmith’s possessions and pulled open the drawstring bag. Inside, John saw several pieces of gold jewelry, including a necklace with a large ruby pendant hanging from it.
“Is this yours?” he asked.
The man shook his head. “No. This belongs to my daughter. She gave it to me last year, and I’ve kept it safe since then. But now we’re both in trouble, and I don’t know what to do.”
John frowned. “Why are you in such danger?”
“Because of the crown jewels,” answered the man. “They were stolen from the royal treasury yesterday, and everyone knows that whoever stole them will be punished severely. My family has always served the king faithfully, and I can’t believe he would punish us for something like this. We deserve a chance to explain ourselves, not execution!”
The blacksmith nodded sympathetically. “Yes, of course. That sounds terrible.”
“So how do we get out of this mess?” asked the man. “We need to talk to the king, but if anyone sees us coming then they won’t let us pass. And even if they do, what are our chances of convincing him to spare us? Even if he does decide to show mercy, it might only be temporary. How long before someone decides to kill us anyway, so they can claim the reward offered by the Crown?”
John considered the problem carefully. There didn’t seem to be any easy answers, and he wondered how much longer it would be until he finally reached the castle gates.
“Well, first things first,” he said eventually. “Let’s see if we can’t make some friends. Maybe one of these people will give us shelter for the night, and maybe they’ll agree to help us escape tomorrow morning.”
The man smiled gratefully. “That’s a good idea. Let’s try it.”
***
After walking through the city for nearly an hour, the blacksmith and his companion finally emerged into the courtyard outside the castle walls. They stood side-by-side, looking around at the rows of wooden huts which lined the perimeter of the yard. Most of them were built from rough planks of wood, and each one seemed to have its own small garden planted nearby. In between the huts, a number of men were sitting around on benches or stools, chatting quietly amongst themselves.
“This looks promising,” remarked the blacksmith. “There’s bound to be somebody here who can help us.”
The man nodded. “Good. Now, all we need to do is find the right person.”
The two men started moving towards the nearest hut when suddenly there was a loud shout from somewhere above them. Looking up, they saw a guard running across the roof of the closest building. He was waving his sword frantically, shouting angrily at someone below him.
“Stop! Stop right there!” he shouted. “Don’t move another inch!”
The blacksmith and his companion froze in their tracks as the guardsman ran past them. The other soldiers standing watch over the courtyard turned quickly to look at the commotion, and the sound of raised voices could be heard echoing throughout the area.
“Who’s that?” whispered the blacksmith. “Do you recognize him?”
The man shook his head. “Not sure. But whatever he wants, I doubt it’s anything good.”
Looking more closely, the blacksmith realized that the soldier had been pointing directly at him. He looked down at himself, trying to work out what the man must have seen. Then he noticed the heavy iron chain dangling from his belt.
“Oh no,” he groaned. “Now what am I supposed to do?”
He glanced nervously at the man beside him, hoping that he wouldn’t notice the chain. If he did, then they’d never manage to convince him to hide it for them. After a few seconds, however, he decided that there wasn’t really any point in hiding it anymore. It was too late to pretend that he hadn’t seen the soldiers, and besides, the blacksmith knew full well that the man couldn’t possibly have missed it.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “But I think we should probably take off the chain.”
The man nodded slowly. “You’re right. You shouldn’t wear it inside the castle. Come on, let’s go.”
Together, the pair walked back to where they had left their belongings. As soon as they arrived, John pulled the chain out of his pocket and handed it to the man.
“Here,” he said. “Take it. Hide it somewhere safe for us.”
The man took the chain without saying a word, stuffing it deep into his robes. Then he hurried away, disappearing behind one of the huts. A moment later, the sound of footsteps could be heard approaching, followed by the unmistakable voice of a woman.
“What’s going on here?” she demanded. “Why are you just standing there?”
The blacksmith and his companion both stepped forward, holding their hands out defensively.
“Please don’t hurt us,” begged the blacksmith. “We’ve done nothing wrong. All we want is to speak with your master.”
The woman frowned. “And why would I allow that? What possible reason could you have for wanting to meet the king?”
“Because we have information about the thieves who stole the crown jewels,” explained the blacksmith. “If you tell us where we might find the king, then we’ll gladly share our story with him.”
The woman laughed scornfully. “Are you serious?”
She pointed her finger at the blacksmith. “Look at this fool. Look at the stupid thing he’s wearing. Do you honestly expect me to believe that he has something useful to say?”
The blacksmith opened his mouth to protest, but before he could get the words out, the man next to him grabbed hold of his arm.
“Let’s not argue,” he whispered urgently. “Just listen to what she says first, okay?”
The blacksmith nodded reluctantly. Turning back to the woman, he waited patiently while she finished berating the blacksmith. When she finally stopped talking, he cleared his throat loudly.
“So, uh…what now?” he asked.
The woman glared at him. “Well, if you’re so eager to talk to my lord, then follow me. But make sure you keep quiet, understand?”
Without waiting for an answer, she began walking towards the center of the courtyard. The blacksmith and his companion exchanged glances, then hurried after her. They were still several yards away when the soldiers guarding the entrance to the courtyard turned around and spotted them. One of them immediately called out to the others, and within moments every single soldier in the vicinity had turned to face the newcomers.
“Hold it right there!” ordered the leader. “Step aside or we’ll open fire.”
The blacksmith and his companion froze instantly, staring wide-eyed at the soldiers. Behind them, the woman continued walking through the crowd, oblivious to everything else. She reached the middle of the courtyard, where she came to a halt and turned to face the group of soldiers.
“What’s all this noise?” she demanded angrily. “Can’t you see that these people aren’t doing anything wrong?”
A couple of the men shrugged, looking unconcerned.
“They’re just peasants,” they replied. “There’s nothing unusual about them.”
The woman rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t matter. We can’t afford to let anyone know that we’re allowing outsiders into the castle. Now move along.”
One of the guards stepped forwards. “Sorry, Your Majesty,” he said. “These two look like common criminals. There’s no way we could let them pass.”
The woman scowled. “Fine,” she snapped. “Then arrest them.”
As quickly as that, the soldiers rushed forward and grabbed hold of the blacksmith and his companion. Before they even realized what was happening, they found themselves being dragged across the ground and thrown into the back of a wagon. Their captors didn’t bother tying them up; instead, they simply threw a blanket over their heads and drove off.
***
After a few minutes, the wagon slowed down. The blacksmith felt himself being lifted from the floor, then placed gently onto some kind of bed. He looked around curiously, trying to figure out where he was. His gaze fell upon the man lying next to him, who stared back at him blankly.
“Who are you?” the blacksmith asked.
The other man shook his head. “I don’t know. Who are you?”
The blacksmith smiled. “My name is John. This is my friend, Peter.”
He gestured towards the man sitting beside him. “Peter’s been injured, though. Can you help him?”
The stranger nodded. “Of course.” Reaching under the blankets, he pulled out a small knife and cut the ropes binding the blacksmith’s wrists. Then, using the same blade, he sliced through the bonds securing the man’s ankles. After that, he sat back and watched as the blacksmith stood up.
“Thank you,” he said gratefully. “How did you know how to do that?”
The man shrugged. “It’s easy enough once you learn the trick.”
John glanced around the room. It wasn’t much bigger than a closet, which made sense given its size. A wooden table and chair occupied one corner, while another door led outside. Beyond that lay a narrow staircase leading downwards.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
The man grinned. “To the dungeons.”
“Dungeons?” repeated John. “Why would we be heading there?”
The man shrugged again. “Dungeons are where prisoners go, right?”
John hesitated. “But…aren’t you a prisoner too?”
The man gave him an amused smile. “No, I’m not.”
He walked over to the window and peered outside. Although the view was obscured by darkness, he could tell that they were somewhere deep inside the castle. Looking down, he saw that they were standing on a stone platform surrounded by thick walls. To either side of the stairs, there were iron bars stretching high above his head. In front of him stretched a long corridor, lined with doors spaced evenly apart. At the end of the hall, a large set of double doors loomed ominously.
“This place must have cost quite a lot to build,” observed John.
The man laughed. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But actually, it was only built recently. My father used to work here, but now he’s dead. And since I’ve inherited the position, I guess you could say that I’m responsible for keeping the place running smoothly.”
He paused, glancing back at John. “So, why exactly are you here?”
John frowned. “We’re friends of Lord William’s son, Richard.”
The man raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
The man shook his head. “Not personally, no. Why does he want to meet us?”
“Because we’re supposed to be helping him find his sister.”
The man whistled in surprise. “Richard’s got a sister?”
“Yeah,” confirmed John. “She went missing last year when she was traveling through the forest near our village.”
“And you’re sure she’s still alive?”
“Well, we haven’t seen her yet…”
The man chuckled. “Don’t worry. You’ll see her soon enough.”
***
The next morning, the blacksmith woke up feeling refreshed. He had slept well, despite the fact that he hadn’t known where he was or what was going to happen to him. As far as he knew, this was the first time he’d ever spent the night in a dungeon cell.
Looking around, he noticed that the man who had helped him get free was already awake and sitting at the table eating breakfast. He recognized him immediately – it was the stranger who had spoken to him earlier.
“Good morning!” called the man cheerily. “Are you ready to start your new life?”
John smiled. “What do you mean?”
The man pointed towards the door. “That way lies freedom! Come along if you want to live happily ever after.”
John glanced at the man suspiciously. “Is that really true?”
The stranger nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Then let’s go,” suggested John eagerly.
The End