It was bound to come up sooner or later. "What happened to your treasure?" Squire Derek asked me over a quart of ale, trying to sound uninterested.

Three enterprising young yeomen have recently found buried treasure in a field near Hadleigh. Not my hoard, thank Freya. But I guess it got Squire Derek thinking.

"You mean my gold coins, my bejewelled crucifix, my emerald crown and whatnot?" I said, watching Squire Derek's eyes widen.

"Don't worry, they're safe."

Apparently, the three yeomen reckon some of the dough they found has gone missing. Could be worse. I remember the story of three very different young men in The Pardoner's Tale.

They found a pot of treasure under a tree. It didn't end well.

If you're wondering how I know about Chaucer's tale when it was written five hundred years after my death, well, I got the dope from fellow spirits over the centuries, obvs. Don't worry, it's all perfectly consistent.

Besides, as we used to say in Denmark, it's folly to expect consistency from kings.

This new tale of three yeomen, buried treasure, and missing coins isn't over yet. Who knows what the moral of it will be. Except maybe: if you want to hide treasure, bury it deep.

That's what I did with mine. It's around here somewhere, buried and forgotten.

Bit like me, eh?

Not gonna lie, I don't think much about my dosh anymore. Another thing we used to say in Denmark: gold is little comfort to the dead.

If you want to look for it, knock yourself out. Bet you a solid gold krone you won't find it. In my day, we knew how to stash the cash. Unlike whoever buried this Lindsey hoard. Amateurs.

Got me thinking. For a small management fee, I'll offer my treasure-burying skills to the people of Hadleigh. It's a great way to manage your money. Non-perishable items only. You know, like your unused chalices, spare robe clasps, signet rings you have lying around.

Guaranteed 100% of your investment back. Low risk. No hidden charges. Competitive interest rate (zero). Flexible access – just bring your own torch and spade.

I'll keep the exact location encrypted – in Norse code, obvs.

Working title: GritCoin.

Or in my Old Norse dialect: 'Skm'.

Squire Derek reckons the idea could 'go viral'. Sounds nasty but he assures me it's a good thing. And all of the management fee goes to a good local cause. My statue fund. What's not to like?

If they're wondering what to do with their wonga, maybe the Babergh Council of Elders will be interested too.

Gotta be a better investment than their CIFCO business I keep hearing about. Not gonna lie, I don't understand that scheme myself. When it comes to money, I'm old-school.

'For sound sleep, bury it deep', as we used to say. In Denmark.

*Coming soon from Nub News, the story behind Hadleigh's discovered golden 'angels'