I finally climbed through that little wood trap door in the upstairs hallway yesterday. Found a couple random swords in the attic. Not little froufrou epees. Broad swords.
One was just lying there and the other was stuck deep in the stone chimney. Took a hell of an effort to pull it out.
Forgetting, for the moment, the obvious question of how did two fucking broad swords get into the attic and the related question of, why were two fucking broad swords in the attic, another much more important question springs to mind.
Am I King of the Britons now?