The Tarnished Chalice

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The court was full when the sheriff brought the accused from his cell. John Shirlok glanced at the jurors who would try him – twelve local men who shuffled and sighed their resentment at being forced to spend their precious time listening to unsavoury tales of robbery, burglary and murder. They were supposed to be respectable, up-standing citizens of good character, although Shirlok knew that simply meant they were men who had been unable to think of a good excuse to absent themselves. All were wealthy – they wore fur-lined cloaks and thick boots against the bite of late winter – and none would be sympathetic to the crimes Shirlok was accused of committing, but he was not unduly worried. There was no question of his guilt – he had been caught red-handed with stolen property, and that alone was enough to earn him an appointment with the hangman. But he had a plan. No thief worked alone, and Shirlok intended to walk free from the castle that day.

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