He sat for a while, thinking, then walked to the hospital to fetch what he needed. Roger was already asleep – his vigil evidently forgotten – and although he stirred when Geoffrey moved about the room, he did not wake. Geoffrey returned to the fishponds and took up station in the undergrowth again. Gradually, daylight faded to dusk and then to night.
He was perfectly relaxed, and for the first time in days his thoughts were clear. He had answers to nearly all his questions – and he understood why he had made mistakes and drawn erroneous conclusions. Perhaps more importantly, he knew how to make amends. But first he had to wait until he heard the telltale scrape of a leather boot on the wall. When the sound came, he eased forward, so that as the dark figure dropped he was ready to meet him.
‘Fingar!’ he called softly. ‘It is Geoffrey.’
The pirate captain looked around wildly, sword in his hand. ‘Come out, where we can see you,’ he snarled.
More sailors swarmed over the wall, several holding crossbows and all carrying daggers. Geoffrey sincerely hoped his assumptions were right and that he was not about to make a fatal mistake. He stepped into the open. A crescent moon dodged in and out of flimsy clouds, just bright enough to let them see him. An owl hooted nearby, low and eerie, followed by the answering call from a marsh bird that had the pirates glancing around in alarm.
‘Fays,’ muttered Donan. ‘They have not gone far since Patrick went down.’
‘I have come to offer you some gold,’ said Geoffrey. ‘I do not know how much. It may be more than you lost to Roger, it may be less. If I tell you where it is, are you prepared to forget what he took and leave us alone?’
‘That depends,’ said Fingar. ‘I do not want to leave with next to nothing, because I make some Devil’s pact with you.’
‘The Saxons are mustering a rebellion and have been raising money to fund it. I know where they have hidden it. You can have it all. But you must give me your word that you will leave Roger alone.’
‘How much gold have they gathered?’ asked Fingar.
‘I told you: I do not know.’
‘Where is it?’ demanded Donan. ‘Tell us, and we will let you live.’
‘No,’ said Geoffrey. ‘That is not the bargain. I want you to swear – on your lives – that you will never trouble Roger or my squires again. You will forget about your own gold.’
‘No,’ said Donan suspiciously. ‘It sounds like a trick.’
Fingar agreed. ‘And how do you know you can trust us – that we will not take this Saxon gold and hunt Roger anyway?’
‘Because I have invoked a curse,’ replied Geoffrey calmly. ‘With those marsh fays you heard. If you break your word, the curse will follow you until they snatch away your souls.’
At that moment, the bird cried again, piercingly, so that some of the sailors crossed themselves. The moon ducked behind a thicker cloud, and the night was suddenly very dark.
‘All right,’ said Fingar, unsettled. ‘I am of a mind to be generous. Show us.’
‘Swear first,’ said Geoffrey.
‘You will tell us, and then I will thrust my sword into your gizzard, so you can thank God for a quick death!’ cried Donan, darting forward with his weapon raised. This time the bird’s cry was high and wavering. Fingar jumped forward and grabbed him.
‘Fool!’ he hissed. ‘Can you not see he can summon these creatures? Why do you think I did not kill him in the hospital?’
‘Tell me,’ said Donan, although the unsteadiness in his voice said he was growing frightened. He was not the only one: the sailors had gathered in a tight knot, finding reassurance in each other’s close proximity. ‘I did not understand it then, and I do not see why we cannot kill him now.’
‘Because the fays protected him when he was poisoned,’ snapped Fingar. ‘I heard what the herbalist said – that Geoffrey should have died. But he recovered. We cannot kill a man who has the love of fays. Now sheath your sword before you see us cursed.’
‘Very well,’ said Donan. He tried to sound reluctant, but it was obvious he was relieved to have an excuse to back down.
Fingar turned to Geoffrey. ‘We accept your offer, and I swear, by all I hold holy, that I will take this Saxon gold and not trouble you or your friends again.’
His crew muttered similar oaths. Donan was made to repeat his, to ensure it was done properly. When they had finished, Geoffrey showed them the ropes running into the water, then stood aside as they drew them up. The first bundle appeared, and its coverings were eagerly pulled away. Geoffrey held his breath, aware that if he had guessed wrongly, the sailors would certainly turn on him, vows or no vows. But he need not have worried. Inside was an odd but substantial collection of cups, coins and jewellery. The pirates whooped and gasped, and Fingar was obliged to order them to silence.
‘I do not understand you,’ the captain said, watching Donan retrieve the second haul. ‘You could have had this for yourself.’
‘Roger will never part with what he took from you, and I do not want him killed.’
‘He is lucky to have a friend like you.’ Fingar sounded as though he would never have contemplated such an exchange.
‘Tell me,’ said Geoffrey, changing the subject, ‘did you and Donan come to the hospital when I was ill? I believe you did, but I would like to hear if from you.’
‘Yes – the moment Ulfrith left you unattended. But Donan did not. He was elsewhere.’
‘I imagined Donan?’ Geoffrey thought about the man’s thin face and how it had assumed the appearance of a rat and then a weasel.
Fingar shrugged. ‘You must have done. He was not there.’
‘Did any of your men find a heavy gold medallion?’ asked Geoffrey.
‘Kell did, in one of the chests, along with documents I recognized as Juhel’s. Apparently, Roger accused Juhel of poisoning you, and he left in a huff. One of your squires hid his belongings for spite – to annoy him.’
Geoffrey was confused. ‘Does Kell have this medallion?’
Fingar regarded him in wonder. ‘I am truly amazed you do not recall that part! Juhel came in and caught us. We outnumbered him, but he fought noisily and threatened to raise the alarm. We did not want that, and the medallion was left behind in the confusion of our escape. We had intended to ambush Roger, but Juhel made that impossible.’
‘Did you tell me you had eaten my dog?’
Fingar looked shocked. ‘Of course not! What sort of man do you think I am? I do not eat dog!’
Geoffrey saw Kell look decidedly furtive, and supposed that although Fingar had not taunted him, one of his men certainly had.
‘Juhel accused us of torturing you,’ Fingar went on. ‘But we did nothing of the kind. I am not so reckless as to harm a sick man in an abbey – especially one who has fays watching out for him.’
The bird whistled softly, and Geoffrey frowned, wishing it would go away. It unsettled the sailors, too, and they began to hurry. Soon, two more bundles had joined the first, both equally stuffed with treasure.
‘This is far more than Roger stole,’ said Fingar, regarding it professionally. ‘And he did take our whole box – do not believe him when he says otherwise. But this is a handsome night’s work. Would you like a share?’
Geoffrey shook his head. ‘Just take it as far away from here as you can.’
‘No problem there,’ said Fingar, indicating his men should gather their booty and leave. They hastened to obey. ‘Goodbye, Sir Geoffrey. We shall not meet again.’
He vaulted to the top of the wall like a monkey and raised his hand in salute. The marsh bird sang piercingly, making him jump in alarm, and then he was gone.
‘Thank you, Ulfrith,’ said Geoffrey, as the squire emerged from the shadows. ‘But you did not have to overdo it. Your eager bird almost gave us away.’
‘I was only trying to help,’ said Ulfrith. ‘So, what do we do now? Wait to see which of the lay-brothers comes to check this sunken treasure?’