Peter Tremayne - Penance of the Damned

‘Then the sooner we observe the situation for ourselves, the better,’ Enda said.

Led by the doorkeeper, and keeping well within the shadows of the line of huts, they crept stealthily towards the centre where they could see the flickering glow from a lantern.

A few moments later, they halted by a hut. Brother Eladach pointed to the next one along. He did not have to tell them that it was where Gorman was imprisoned. Two men were on guard outside the hut on which a lantern hung. Other lanterns lit up the square beyond. One man was standing warming himself before a brazier, which added to the glow of light. It was a cold night in spite of being summer. Another man was sitting, whittling at a piece of wood with a knife. Eadulf found himself perspiring in spite of the chilly air; his heart thumping.

‘Stay here, my friends,’ Enda breathed. ‘Keep out of sight. I’ll be back in a moment.’

He moved forward at a crouch into the darkness towards the back of the hut. Both of his weapons were now out of their sheaths and ready for use, sword in one hand and knife in the other.

It was not long before he reappeared.

‘I’ll go to the other side of the hut and make a soft noise,’ he whispered, outlining his plan. ‘Hopefully that will catch the attention of the guard who is standing up and he’ll come to investigate. I think I can deal with him. But you, Eadulf, will have to get close to the one sitting down and incapacitate him before he realises something is wrong. Understood?’

Eadulf muttered an acknowledgement. Then Enda crawled away. Eadulf moved up to the corner of the hut, gripping the blackthorn stick in both sweaty hands. He peered round at his quarry. The man still sat on a bench and continued to whittle away at his stick. His companion was stretching himself before the brazier. Eadulf drew back quickly and tried to mentally prepare himself.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ came a gruff voice.

Eadulf nearly jumped, his heart pounding. He was about to swing round to see who was threatening him when he realised that it was one of the men speaking to the other.

A lazy voice replied, ‘It helps to pass the time. Better than doing nothing.’

The first voice swore. ‘I’ll be glad when this is over, so that we can rejoin Glaed. Better to be riding with sword in hand. Blood and booty. That’s the life.’

‘We have to do what Glaed tells us,’ the other replied. ‘He tells us to act as bodyguard to this abbot, so that is what we must do.’

‘Why do we have to wait until tomorrow to kill the man? I could end it with a single sword-thrust now if the old man wants him dead so badly.’

‘Old man or not, he is an abbot,’ reproved his companion. ‘And we have been ordered to do what he tells us.’

‘And as an abbot he must be a bigger thief and killer than any of us,’ his companion sneered cynically. ‘Although it does not take much strength to dominate this lot of sad rejects …’ The voice went silent all of a sudden. Eadulf had not heard anything but the voice then continued, ‘Did you hear that?’

‘Likely just a cat or dog,’ hazarded the second man.

‘We were told to be careful.’

‘Go and look then. I say it is nothing.’ The guard resumed his whittling.

Eadulf heard the first man curse and the sound of him moving. Easing his blackthorn to shoulder level, Eadulf sprang forward. It seemed to happen so slowly, as if his limbs had become weighed down with lead. The seated man heard him, looked round in surprise; his mouth started to open to shout an alarm while at the same time the hand holding the knife rose in self-defence. Grunting with the effort, Eadulf swung the cudgel and struck the man hard on the side of the temple.

He stood over the fallen man breathing heavily for a few seconds.

Then there was movement from the far side of the cabin. Eadulf tried to raise the blackthorn again, ready to defend himself against the unconscious man’s returning companion. But it was not him. Enda emerged from the shadows, sword in hand, and Eadulf almost collapsed in relief. Enda glanced at the fallen second man. He did not say anything but went to the door of the cabin and examined the bolts on the door. As Eladach had said, there were two of them and they slid back easily, making no sound.

Even as they prepared to open the door there was a sudden gasp of agony from behind them. They whipped round to find the man that Eadulf thought he had knocked unconscious was struggling erect, a sword in his hand. But his eyes blurred in the lamplight as if unable to focus. Blood gushed from his mouth. Then he fell forward on his face. They saw the hilt of a knife buried in the man’s back.

Behind the body stood the shaking figure of Brother Eladach.

‘ Deus miseratur ,’ he prayed. ‘May God have mercy on me.’

Enda quickly realised what had happened. ‘I am sure God will forgive you,’ he whispered, regaining his sense of humour. ‘Meantime, silence.’

He turned back to the door and with Eadulf they pulled it open. In the shadows a figure had risen awkwardly into a sitting position on the straw palliasse.

‘Is it time?’ muttered a familiar voice.

Eadulf replied in a light-hearted whisper, ‘Yes – time for you to leave this den of evil.’

There came an audible swallow. ‘Is that you, friend Eadulf, or am I hearing things?’

‘You are not hearing things and I am with him,’ Enda said, moving forward with his sword. ‘Now keep quiet and still, while I cut those bonds.’ He sheathed his sword and took out his dagger.

‘Enda? What is happening?’ gasped Gorman and was immediately told to be quiet again.

‘What is happening,’ hissed Eadulf, ‘is that you are being rescued. Now save your questions until we get you away from this place.’

Gorman knew enough to turn and hold out his bound wrists behind him so that Enda could get to work on severing them. Having done so, it being the work of a few moments, Gorman began to rub his wrists to restore the circulation. ‘I wondered what Brother Eladach meant by his cryptic Latin,’ he croaked.

Enda now motioned to Eadulf and Brother Eladach to help him carry the bodies of the two dead guards into the hut. He closed the door on them and noiselessly pushed the two bolts back into place. Brother Eladach waved at them to follow him and they trod softly back to the side gate through which they had entered.

Before they went through it, they paused, listening in the darkness. Apart from the distant bark of a dog and the mourning cry of a night owl, it was quiet.

‘I regret I had to kill that man,’ Brother Eladach whispered. ‘But he was about to raise the alarm.’

‘You did well,’ Enda assured him. ‘If no one notices that the guards are not on watch, it might not be until first light before their bodies are found.’

‘Are you sure that you want to stay?’ Eadulf asked Eladach. ‘Nannid is of a suspicious mind and he will work out that Gorman had help from someone here.’

Brother Eladach shook his head ruefully. ‘I have already prepared the east gate so it looks as though Gorman has fled in that direction. But I must stay to try to help my people. Deus vult . God wills it.’

‘Then it is time for us to move. The sooner we are away, the better,’ Enda said.

‘Go with God and I will secure this gate after you.’

With quick gestures of farewell, the trio hurried silently along the wall and, with Enda leading, were soon swallowed by the shadows. As they passed the darkened houses, moving away from the newly constructed walls of the so-called Abbey of Nechta, Eadulf felt thankful he could rely on Enda, with his warrior’s training, to guide them with such certainty towards the house of Etromma. The sudden bark of a dog from a nearby building caused them to halt, breaths catching in their throat. There came the rattle of a chain and then a masculine voice swore and shouted at the animal to be still. There was a further bark, then a clatter as if something had been thrown, followed by a protesting whine before silence descended again. No one spoke as the men moved on.