‘It’s my late husband’s maglorg,’ Etromma had explained. ‘In his day, fighting with the sticks was a way of settling an argument of honour if you didn’t feel like calling a Brehon and pleading your case. You would challenge the person who did you wrong and the better man at plying the stick would win.’
Eadulf had stared at the stout stick with wide eyes. ‘Were many people killed then?’
The elderly woman had chuckled. ‘Bless you, Brother Eadulf, none at all. The purpose of the stick-fighting was to get the other to submit – not to kill them. But you could give them a sore head with a tap of this.’ She pointed to the knob end of the stick.
Enda looked serious. ‘In this instance, friend Eadulf, I think you should be aware that our opponents will not settle for just a tap on the head.’
As the chimes faded, Etromma went to the door and peered out.
‘There is darkness across the township,’ she reported, closing the door. ‘Bide here a short while and then go – and may God go with you.’
Eadulf found himself wondering whether God would approve of such a mission to secure Gorman’s release. He grinned at the thought – and then straightened his features as he realised that Enda was looking at him with some concern.
‘Don’t worry, Enda,’ he said. ‘I’ll not let you down.’
‘I am not worried that you would,’ the young man replied. ‘But this is a job for a warrior.’
‘I think you should go now,’ Etromma advised. ‘Eladach will be waiting for you.’
Enda led the way into the darkness. Outside the door of the elderly woman’s homestead, they paused to allow their eyes to adjust to the night. Then the young warrior set off without hesitation, Eadulf close on his heels. Enda appeared to have a good grasp of the route through the now darkened cabins and homesteads. Hardly any time passed before they reached the wooden wall that encompassed the so-called Abbey of Nechta and eased their way along it. Enda spotted the wooden gate easily.
He paused, ensured Eadulf was with him and then tapped softly, once only. The gate immediately swung inwards and they passed inside.
The shadow that greeted them did so in Brother Eladach’s reassuring tone.
‘Follow me closely. There are no lamps now that the community has retired to bed. However, you’ll see a faint glow further along this path. That is by the central square of the community. There is a lamp burning outside the hut where Gorman is incarcerated.’
Enda allowed a faint hissing breath to escape him. ‘But that means that we have no element of surprise emerging from the darkness,’ he whispered. ‘The guards will see us approaching. If we have to make a frontal attack, friend Eadulf, both men must be rendered unconscious or eliminated.’
‘I understand the problem,’ Eadulf whispered back. ‘Even if we could silence one guard, the other will raise the alarm. They must both be dealt with at once.’
‘Let us hope that fortune will be with us, my friends,’ muttered Brother Eladach.
‘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.