Episode 3
“This is an outrage!” the abbot cried, running madly toward Callan. “Cease this bloodshed! ’Tis sacred ground!”
Callan could ill afford the man a glance. The Danes overrunning the monastery’s storehouse would escape to their longship with their ill-gotten wares elsewise. Callan launched his spear.
His missile struck the foreigner’s back. With a shriek, the man sprawled out. A cask flew from his hands, tumbling on the grassy knoll of Tomgraney’s grounds.
Brian mac Cennedigh and Connor O’Dea fought back to back in the distance. The cries of Tomgraney’s abbot must have reached Brian’s ears, for in one deft move he disarmed his opponent and brought the foreigner to his knees. Instead of dispatching the villain, Brian held the Dane at bay with his own axe.
“By God, I adjure you! Stop!” The abbot seized Callan’s sleeve.
Tense, Callan regarded the man, blood trickling from the shaved crown above his tonsure. “Abba Cormac, you and your brethren may have fared worse had we not intervened.”
Abbot Cormac loosed him. “Mayhap if your men chose not to harry those foreigners these past months, they’d not resort to such desperate measures! I tell you, we’ve ne’er seen trouble from the Danes. We’ve traded peacefully with them for years.”
“Is that what you call this?” Callan waved a hand toward the last Dane still engaged in combat with Connor O’Dea.
The Dane’s shield soared toward Connor’s head.
Connor ducked and rolled. The momentum carried him under and into the man’s legs. Both down, Connor pinned him to the earth with a sword through his abdomen.
Horror marked the abbots weathered face. In a flurry he made the sign of the cross over his breast and hastened to Brian. “No more! Do not kill the man.”
Brian tightened the axe handle under the Danes throat as the man struggled against him. “Abba Cormac Ua Ci Cillín, this is the last of the foreigner’s crew. If he lives, what then? He’ll tell his king and more will come. I know Tomgraney and Clonmacnois are under your care. Would you have both monasteries ravaged and the inhabitants endangered to save this man’s life?”
“Well would you know of ravaging, Prince Brian!” Abba Cormac raged. “Your brother sacked Clonmacnois more than the foreigners. Your hypocrisy is limitless! Ne’er would I condone death for theft. The punishment does not fit the crime.”
The foreigner’s grip whitened on the axe haft. His eyes began to roll. Brian’s gaze intensified. “What punishment would you suggest? Do you wish to keep him to serve penance for his crimes?”
The abbot sputtered, unable to articulate a reply. Undoubtedly, he knew his brethren incapable of keeping such a savage warrior from bringing more harm to bear. Yet, Callan knew the holy father must’ve felt desperate to save this Dane’s life.
Brian released his hold then struck the Dane a blow with the axe haft. The man fell unconscious upon the grass, but alive. “Since you hesitate, I’ll judge for you.” Brian stepped off the listless form and handed the foreigner’s weapons to Callan. “We’ll take the man, his ship, and all the belongings of his crew, save what he stole from you and whatever goods they possess that you deem necessary to pay for the damages done to yourself and the church.”
“And what of the bodies? What of the lives taken here? If their king sends a party to look for them, surely word of these events will bring them here.”
Brian shook his head. “Not if you keep silent. We’ll take the bodies and dispose of them. You need not fret that they should taint your sacred ground.”
“The ground is already tainted.” Abbot Cormac growled. “I’ll not lie to save your rabble band.”
“If it suits your conscience to betray those who protected you and your community, ’tis on your head.” Brian waved Connor over and the two hefted the unconscious Dane. “But I may not be here to save you when King Ivar decides to punish you for having part in these events.”
“My hands are clean in this. I’ve the account of many witnesses to testify of it.”
“God-fearing witnesses to be sure.” Brian grunted under the weight of his burden. “May Christ be with you when you tell Ivar. For he has no fear of God.”
Callan smirked, but chose to say nothing. Despite the truth of Brian’s words, Callan held too high a respect for churchmen to counter them publicly, no matter their ignorance. King Ivar of Luimnech valued his power hold upon the Shannon. An ecclesiastic’s word would mean little to him when faced with the loss of an entire crew and one of his treasured longships.
The ship was a smaller vessel. Not a warship like many Ivar commanded, but large enough to accommodate the crew of ten it carried to Tomgraney’s shores. Callan climbed aboard the land-docked vessel and secured the weapons in time to assist Brian and Connor with their captive.
He bent to bind the Dane’s legs. “The abba has a point, Brian. If we take this longship out on the lough with the crew slaughtered, others may well brand us the criminals.”
Brian drew down on the knot tethering the Danes hands. “That is why we’ll sink the bodies in Derg. Night is nearly upon us. If we weight them with enough stones and finish the deed under cover of darkness, no evidence will remain by morning to tell the tale.”
Callan gazed out over Lough Derg. An irony that the “Blood Lake” would serve the crew’s grave. It leant ill humor to their gruesome task.
Connor O’Dea picked his way through the sea chests lining the ship’s gunwales until he came upon a great coil of rope. Girding his blue cloak in his belt, he sat and began measuring out the length. “’Tis a shame we’ll waste good rope on their rotten corpses. Our men could put it to better use.”
A laugh broke upon them. Ardan mac Davan hefted a pile of stones on board. His gray eyes squinting in wicked amusement. “The riches we make off their weapons alone would be enough to replenish that meager pile of rope.”
Callan glowered. “That’s another thing. What of the weapons, Brian? Our band is in sore need of them. Not the least the food stores on this ship.”
Brian swiped the ruddy locks from his blood-spattered brow, and surveyed the ship goods. “We hold back only what’s necessary. This longship is the real prize. We’ll need the best of the goods on board if we’re to refit and disguise it for our use. ’Twill take a great deal to barter for new sails alone.” He nodded at the unconscious Dane. “He should fetch a fine price at Athlone.”
“Athlone is a fair clip north. We risk much, travelling into Connacht with a foreign vessel.”
Brian chuckled. “And where would we take the ship here? Do you think Abbot Cormac would accompany us to Clonmacnoise to see our needs met?”
The others laughed. Even Callan conceded the absurdity of such a notion. Nevertheless, their band did not comprise of seamen. Very few new the intricate workings of sailing a foreign vessel. To navigate a strange ship along the winding river Shannon through enemy territory with only ten of their warband to sail and defend the vessel seemed equally ludicrous.
Soberness reclaimed Brian’s countenance, and Callan knew he shared these thoughts. Brian nodded. “This ship is our bargaining tool to keep my brother at bay a little longer. Mahon threatened to hunt us down himself. We’ve unsettled his peace with the Luimnech Danes to the point Ivar may well declare war on him once more. But if Mahon benefits from our deeds with another ship of his own…well…he may be swayed to look the other way at our next foray against the foreigners.”
“I pray you’re right.” Callan regarded the few members of their band who elected to stay behind. A mere twenty men, with only forty scattered throughout Thomond to guard their hidden camps throughout Dalcassian territory. “King Ivar will surely send a party to hunt for his missing crew. With our dwindling numbers, we can’t afford to fight on two fronts.”
Brian nodded. “’Tis a gamble. But if our mission is successful in Connacht, then we’re sure to gain more men to our cause.”
“At Athlone? What loyalties to the Dal Cais can we expect to find there? Connachtmen and the Ui Neill. Very few would aid us rather than slit our throats and take the ship for themselves.”
Brian exchanged looks with Connor O’Dea and grinned. “You’ll see soon enough.”
© M.N. Stroh 2019. All Rights Reserved.
I enjoyed reading this, Melissa! 🙂
Yay! I’m glad to hear that, Pearl. This one was particularly challenging.