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He accepted this with good grace. "Truly, God moves in mysterious ways, and the musings of his heart are beyond discovery," he declared. "And that is a fact."

Then God must surely be an Arab, I thought. Or the Emperor of Byzantium's elder brother.

Brynach, having found his voice, was apparently keen to use it. "The Danes," he said, "where did they go?"

I was saved from having to make up an answer by a sound not unlike that of pigs being slaughtered. It seemed to come from up the hill in the direction of the mines. We all three turned as one towards the sound. "Whatever can it be?" wondered Brynach.

The sound increased, and into view came a column of Sea Wolves, marching in a ragged double rank. Between each pair was slung a weighty bundle, similar to that which contained the bishop's bones, only larger, and clearly much heavier. They were struggling down from the mines, dragging their heavy burdens, and they sang as they marched.

"Did you have to listen to that?" Brynach asked.

"Not often."

"Thank God."

"Heya!" cried Harald limping to where we stood. The column halted and the men all but collapsed upon their bundles. "We are ready to leave now," he said, gasping for breath from his exertion, "and we will not be looking back."

Brynach stared at me as I answered in Harald's tongue. "I had no idea there would be so much, or I would not have agreed," I said without enthusiasm. Any hope that we might leave unmolested had deserted me. The chief overseer would certainly not let us go when he saw how much the Sea Wolves intended to take away with them. And, as we could not avoid crossing the yard, there was nothing for it but to brazen the thing through. "If you are ready, then follow me."

Brynach and I took up our bundle and an odd procession fell in line behind us as we made our slow way back down the slope to the yard where the others stood waiting.

The overseer, who had by this time overcome his fear of the caliph's decree, came flying out of his house as we entered the yard. "What is this? What is this?" he cried, waving his arms.

"I have already told you," I replied icily. "We bear away the bones of Bishop Cadoc."

His squint-eyes narrowed to mere slits as he counted all the bundles on the ground. "So many bones?" he whined. "It is not possible."

Faysal, Nadr, Bara, and Musa took up places behind me. The gathered slaves looked on, growing excited once again. "What is he saying?" hissed Brynach anxiously.

By way of reply, I bent down and unknotted the bundle Brynach and I carried. Withdrawing the skull, I stood and thrust it before his face. "Look upon the visage of one who died by your hand," I told him. "Look long, Oppressor, and remember. His blood shall cry witness against you on Judgement Day."

The overseer blenched at this, so I continued my bluff. Putting out a hand to the Sea Wolves' bundles, I declared, "And likewise the blood of all those who suffered under the lash and died at your pleasure-all these shall rise up on the last day and condemn you before Allah, the Righteous Judge."

The slave master made bold to protest, but I stopped him before he could say a word. "Detain us now and you will surely never see Paradise."

"Be gone with you!" he shouted, angry now. Summoning a few of the guards to him, he said, "The sight of them offends me. See that they leave at once!"

I suppose he took on this guise to preserve what little dignity remained him, but he need not have worried that we would overstay our welcome. No man was more impatient to be gone than the one standing before him at that moment.

Replacing the skull, I carefully retied the bundle and gestured for Dugal to come and carry it, and instructed that Ddewi, and some of the others should be mounted on the five horses along with as many of the bundles as they could hold. Then, turning on my heel, I led my bedraggled band of Vikings and monks from the yard like the Prophet Moses escorting the Chosen out of Egypt. Realizing that we were leaving, the watching slaves began to clamour; just as we reached the street leading to the gate, they surged after us, begging-demanding-to be included in our number. All at once the overseer and his guards were fighting to keep from being trampled in the rush.

Making what haste we could, we proceeded down the single narrow street of the settlement to the gate, arriving just ahead of the oncoming mob. Behind us, I could hear the voice of the overseer crying orders for the gate to be closed at once.

"Faysal!" I yelled, shouting above the rising commotion. He raced to my side. "Run ahead and hold the gate. If they close it now we will never get free. Hurry!"

Off he ran, taking two warriors with him; the others remained behind to guard our retreat if they could. I called to Harald and Dugal. "Make for the gate, men! Hurry!"

"We are hurrying as fast as we can," Dugal answered, lumbering past; he all but dragged poor Brynach, who appeared to have scant appreciation for our predicament.

"God help us!" said Brynach, invoking divine aid and intervention on our behalf.

"Save your breath," I snarled. "God is done with us. It is we who must be saving ourselves!"

He broke off, staring at me. I pushed him on. "Go! Go! Do not stand there gawking, man. Run!"

The Danes needed no coaxing. Lugging their bundles, they slewed on through the dust, heads down, sweating and grunting with the effort. I urged them on, shouting, pointing ahead to the gate, where Faysal gestured wildly. I looked and saw the great timbers swinging slowly shut.

The opening was a hundred paces or more from where I stood. Whirling around, I looked to where the last of the Sea Wolves toiled toward freedom. We would never make it!

"Throw down your burdens," I cried. "Run! Save yourselves!"

No one paid the slightest heed. The stubborn Danes lowered their heads and laboured on. Unless the gate was held, they would be cut off; once closed, I had little hope that it would be opened again-not for me, or the amir, or anyone else.

I dashed to where Faysal was contending with the guards. "We cannot hold it any longer!" he cried.

The great timbers continued to close. Darting forward, I pushed against one of the huge cross-members with all my might, but could not so much as discourage its inevitable progress. "Help me!" I shouted. Bara and Musa leapt to my aid, and we desperately strove to slow the closure, while Faysal renewed his protestations with the gatemen. Meanwhile, the gate, groaning under its own weight, ground ahead regardless.

Dugal was first to reach the opening; bearing the bundle of bones, he hastened through pulling Brynach with him. Meanwhile, Faysal, seeing his efforts were wasted with the gatemen, ran to join us, adding his strength to ours. Even so, it was no use; our feet slid in the dust. The gate ground ahead, more slowly, but just as relentlessly as before.

We could not stop it.

A few of the first Sea Wolves hastened empty-handed through the ever-narrowing portal. They were free!

But one glance over my shoulder, and my heart fell. Harald and the remaining Danes, striving heroically with the weight of their bundles, were still too, too far away. What is more, the mad rush of slaves, despite the shackles and leg chains, was gaining on them from behind.

"Throw down the sacks!" I cried. "Save yourselves!"

The Sea Wolves responded to this, not by releasing their burdens, but by striving still harder. I saw one of them stumble and fall, pulling his partner down with him, and tripping up the two behind. Those following on were somehow able to avoid tumbling into the heap, but the accident slowed them all.

I looked to the gate and saw that the gap was now merely two men wide. And the first of the run-amok slaves had almost reached the last pair of straggling Danes.

"The gate is closing!" I called again and again. "Run for it!"