The Knights Hospitaler and the Ottoman Troops of Suleiman the Magnificent were well matched, with state-of-the-art cannonry and defenses, but it was Suleiman who commanded the Janissaries, the formidable household infantry troops loyal to the Sultan. Occasionally, though, they got out of hand; briefly, during the second truce after the second Siege of Rhodes, they entered the city and did things that Suleiman had promised wouldn't happen, such as plundering, smashing things in churches, and assaulting women. It was just for a little bit of a day, though, and then they were sorry. Which they showed by saying other troops did it. In the latest True Crime Medieval, Anne is fascinated by the Janissaries, and Michelle is very gratified to explain to us all the standardization of gunpowder and cannon material, which is actually much more exciting than this sentence made it sound. Also she found the first opera ever written in English. Of course she did.

If you wanted to steal beehives in the Middle Ages, you would need to be very good at the theft, because the laws about bees and beehives were many and varied, all over the European continent. And you should be really careful about stealing beehives in Portugal (or France, or Spain), because those were the places where the high-end honey got made, and the people there were very serious about their hives. Anne talks about the history of beekeeping, and the medieval laws thereof, and Michelle, though very proud of having found a couple of novels about beekeeping, really focuses on The Medieval Economy of Beekeeping, which turned out to be extraordinarily fascinating. Who knew. Also, we share lots of information on useful subjects, such as why it's a good thing to be able to distinguish bees from wasps, what to do if you discover a swarm in your attic, and why it was that Winchester Abbey had to import wax. Ok, that last thing not as useful as the two before it. But very interesting, nevertheless.

If you read the Annals of Tigernach, you will find that Máel Brigte mac Mothlachán killed Rogallach mac Uatach, King of Connacht, in battle, because the Uí Briúin tribe had been encroaching on the territory of the Corco Cullu, and so it was one of those normal murders. However, if you read the renowned and beloved Geoffrey Keating, you will discover that no, Rogallach, riding his white horse, was killed by servants, after a dispute about who had actually killed a deer, but before that Rogallach had been living a version of Oedipus, sleeping with his daughter, who had been, as an infant sent out to die, but a huntsman saved her, and then later her dad met her and incestuous relations followed. We do talk about Connacht, and Rogallach, and Máel Brigte mac Mothlachán, but really what Anne is concerned about is the inability of some historians to tell the difference between history and storytelling, and Michelle, bless her heart, is driven to sputtering outrage by the inability of some scholars to tell you where they found the stuff, history or story, either one.

The first ruler of the House of Sverker, Sverker the Elder, had come out as the winner among contenders for the position of Ruler of Sweden, even though he wasn't from royal roots.  He was the ruler of the country, but various pieces of Sweden were considering themselves under or not under his authority, and other countries altogether were also working on taking Sweden or bits of it (that would be Denmark and Russia), and what with one thing and another, life wasn't very restful. And then one of the Danes got a trusted servant to murder Sverker. It was Christmas, and Sverker was on his way to church.  After that, the House of Sverker and the House of Erik handed the country back and forth for a while. Using battles.  Both hosts are concerned about how many people were getting murdered on Christmas day, Michelle found the most expensive movie ever made in Sweden, and Anne is confused by the several deaths in the episode brought on by local peasants.

In the beginning, by which I mean before 1054, the Church was united, though the Eastern and Western pieces had lots of theological differences, which they could just not iron out. But then it was 1053, and the Patriarch of Constantinople closed all the Latin churches in the city, and after that, the Pope of Rome tried to get the Patriarch to recognize him (the Pope) as the head of the Church, which he wouldn't, and then they excommunicated each other, and we had The Great Schism of 1054. But there was still lots and lots of trade between the East and the West, because money, which is why in 1182 there was a large Italian population of traders and their families in Constantinople, especially since they'd been given lots of economic incentives, and so they were making lots of money and shouldering all of the Byzantine traders out, and also, alas, the Italians were VERY arrogant and annoyed everybody, besides which they were very badly behaved, and a mob that had been celebrating the entrance into the city of their new emperor Andronikos pivoted and began massacring all of the Italians they could find in the city. This was very bad. Very bad indeed. And it didn't help the East-West relations, which would be reaching their nadir with the Sack of Constantinople in 1204, after which the East and the West wouldn't even speak to each other, for hundreds of years. We explain the massacre and Michelle finds novels, including one by, I kid you not, Louis L'Amour, who apparently had a sort of cowboy take on the whole shebang.

Mikhail of Chernihiv, the Grand Prince of Kyiv and Prince of Chernihiv, went to several neighboring states to ask for help fighting the Golden Horde -- he had the idea that there would be strength in alliance -- but nobody would help, on account of they were too busy fighting each other, and also the Mongols had not actually gotten to their houses yet, so why should they care. Then the Golden Horde destroyed Kyiv, and told Mikhail he had to come give obeisance to Batu Khan, and he did that, but he wouldn't worship idols, which was part of the deal, so the Golden Horde executed him. And then he pretty quickly became venerated, and then a saint as a martyr, and his relics were taken to Chernihiv but now they are in Moscow. Besides all that, MIchelle is totally impressed by the number of his vitae surviving. Also that Batu Khan is connected to Russian Atlantis. Also there is a kangaroo. (Spoiler alert: the Golden Horde did in fact get to those other neighboring states, after they had finished looting Kyivan Rus.)

King Duncan did indeed get killed, in 1040, and Macbeth was around, and maybe even was near him at the time, but Duncan wasn't old, he wasn't asleep in bed, and there was no crime, because Macbeth's forces slaughtered Duncan's forces in battle, and Duncan was one of the slaughtered. In this episode, Anne explains all of the history that can be explained -- it's a slippery bunch of facts, but there was a King Duncan, he did die, and Macbeth was king after him. Michelle explains the historical sources, and mentions the novels, but really what she wanted to know was where the hell that theatre superstition about not ever saying the title of the Scottish Play in the theater, at pain of being made to do whatever silly things are in fashion at the time -- well, where the hell that came from. And we want to know, too.

For all of the middle ages, almost everybody believed that earlier in church history, there had been a pope who was, instead of being male,  a woman, who  met, alas, a Bad End. She wasn't there, as some people suspected then, and as we know now, but the story is so damn good it's hard to let go of. Whichever version of the story you're dealing with. Anne explains the different versions of Pope Joan and how we know she wasn't there, and Michelle is delighted by the vast amount of popular works telling her story. Musicals! No kidding! And too many novels to list.

As we all know, if you were accused of a crime in the middle ages, or if you were in danger, and you ran to a nearby church, you could have sanctuary, and then you were safe. Well, this is true, more or less, but exactly what you needed to do, and how the whole thing worked, changed over time and across the continent. Michelle and Anne wanted to know more about the mechanisms of sanctuary, so they went to find out, and will tell you all about it. Anne can explain to you the ceremony you would follow when it was time to leave the church, and the rules about church sanctuary these days, and Michelle can tell you about very interesting sources, and the problems with figuring out how sanctuary works, even in the middle ages. Oh, and by the way, it didn't always work. Sometimes people hacked you to death in front of the altar. Then THEY were in trouble.

There's not a lot of murder in Iceland -- there was a disconcerting spike in the number of homicides last year, 8 altogether -- so, obviously, there aren't a lot of murderers. And none of the murderers of Iceland are serial killers. With one exception.  In the last part of the 16th century, not long after Iceland had been forced to institute the death penalty for capital crimes (this was Denmark's idea), Axlar-Björn Pétursson, who lived out on the west coast, on the Snæfellsnes Peninsula, murdered lots of people who came by his farm looking for work, and became Iceland's one and only serial killer. And then, on account of the death penalty part, didn't get to just go be an exiled outlaw. Besides the details, such as they are, of Axlar-Björn's crimes, Anne is quite taken by Snæfellsnes and its eco-tourism, and Michelle, though she appreciates the folk-tale quality of the whole story, really wants to let us all know about Jón Árnason, the eminent Icelandic folk tale collector, because he was a self-taught scholar who is deserving of high honor, and Michelle does admire scholars who get lots done on a budget.