Echoes from the Lost Ones

by Nicola McDonagh

  The once-monk stepped gingerly onto the stairs, took hold of a thick rope attached to the stone wall, and began his descent. Eadgard went next followed by Kendra, who allowed Wirt to hang onto the wide sleeve of her frumpy dress. Marcellus touched my back and I turned. “We keep behind. Watch out not slip. We hold onto belt. If allow?”

  I smiled and lifted my tunic a tad to reveal my trouser support and he wrapped his fingers around the coarse woven cloth. I faced forward, glad to have the comforting weight of Marcellus’s hand on my belt, took hold of the rope rail and followed the others down.

  My feet slid on the smooth, slimy steps. I found it difficult not to let out small “eeks,” from time to time and clung onto the makeshift banister with both hands. Marcellus tugged harder than was necessary and I found myself pressed against his chest. His heart pounded against my back.

  It was a thrilling sensation and we remained all close and slow of step until we reached the bottom. When we did the sight before our eyes was staggering. A cave had been dug straight into the mountain. The walls all hacked and rugged produced a narrow tunnel. In places razor sharp shards of granite poked out from them, and jabbed down from the low ceiling.

  “Gruesome but effective. We like,” Marcellus said, released his grip on my belt and lifted his head to better see the imposing dagger-like spikes. He put his hand to his temple and I saw blood trickle through his fingers. “Effective, very.” He took a rag from his pocket and pressed it against the wound.

  When Ryce smirked I felt an urge to break off one of the pieces and plunge it into his neck.

  Eadgard squatted to take a longly look at the mean spikes. He touched their sharp points and rubbed his fingertips together. “I am guessing these projectiles are some sort of deterrent for a would be escapee?”

  “Well worked out Eadgard,” Ryce said. “Especially in the dark. You see the light can only be accessed by a handclap and only Brother Jude and I know that.”

  A shiver ran down my back and I instinctively bent my head away from the cruel stone daggers. Wirt stroked my arm and Marcellus put his hand on my shoulder. I gave them both a grateful smile.

  Ryce snorted a derisive snort. “Shall we proceed? Or would you prefer to linger here and snuggle up?”

  Eadgard and Kendra turned their attention to us. I quickly shuffled Wirt’s and Marcellus’s mitts from my person. “Nah, let’s go and quick. I am feeling out of sorts and then some in this eerie place.

  The Carnie turned, pinned his arms to his sides and walked on taking small steps. We followed placing our feet exactly where his hit the floor. The ceiling became lower, so I bent my head and knees to avoid the spikes. The others did too and Marcellus, tall as he was, almost had to walk on all fours. It was a strain to be sure and I thought my calf muscles would burst with the effort, until I saw a dark wooden door in the distance. The sight of it spurred me on. “Look,” I said and pointed.

  “At last. I must confess my dears that I was near to fainting with all this crouching,” Kendra said.

  The ceiling became higher as we neared the door, so much so that even Marcellus was able to stand straight. I rubbed my aching muscles and noticed Wirt and Kendra grimacing as they stretched out their legs. The door was large and barred with two huge oak beams that in turn where padlocked together with the most gigantic lock I had ever seen.

  “So this is where you have been hiding the Abbot. You know my dear ones I spent quite some time searching this great building for said missing monk. But despite my most thorough efforts, I could not find a hair or fingernail of the man. Cunning, Ryce.”

  “Open door. We are weary of wait,” Marcellus said and shoved Ryce towards it. He fumbled in the pocket of his robe and produced a small metal stick. He pointed it at the lock, slid his thumb down to the base and pressed. A green light shone from it and the lock opened with a tiny click as if someone was cleaning their teeth with their tongue after a hearty meal.

  “I will need assistance in lifting the bars.”

  Marcellus and Eadgard stepped forward. Together they lifted the heavy beams and placed them onto the floor. Ryce pushed and the door creaked open.

  A dull yellow light illuminated the chamber we entered. It was small and the walls were covered with reflecting material that showed us the image of the Abbott. He sat on a wooden chair. His head lolled against his chest and his arms hung loosely by his sides. He was prevented from falling by a large red belt wrapped around his ample belly and tied to the rungs at the back of the chair. Ryce put his fingers to his lips and motioned for us to remain where we were standing.

  “I must warn you that the Abbot is not quite himself and may appear to be deranged.”

  “What have you done to him? The poor man looks as if he has been beaten. More than once,” Kendra said and put her hand to her mouth.

  “Quite. Torture had little effect upon him. His stupor is simply a side effect of the drugs we gave him to make him reveal the truth about your mission.”

  I gulped at the sight of the bruised Abbot. “He must be plenty tough.”

  “More than any of us thought, Adara, my dear.”

  Eadgard cleared his throat and turned to Ryce. “Wake him.”

  “As you wish,” he said and walked slowly towards the Abbot. He squatted in front of him, put his hands on the Abbot’s knees and said all loud and brash, “Abbot. Abbot, it is time for you to waken. It is I, Brother Dominic. I am without Brother Jude, so you need not be afraid. There are others, however, who wish to speak to you.”

  The Abbot grunted and twitched, then slowly raised his head. He stared down at the fake monk, clenched his fists and jabbed at his jaw. Ryce fell back, blood trickling from his damaged nose. Marcellus hauled him to his feet and pulled his arms behind his back. “Stay put. Move and we bloody more than nose.” Ryce struggled for a sec then relented to Marcellus’s strong grip and remained motionless except for the occasional nostril flare as his snout continued to ooze red. Kendra smiled at the Abbot and knelt before him.

  “Nice left hook, Abbot. Only what the deceiver deserved. You remember me? Sister Gabriel?”

  The Abbot raised his hands to his eyes and rubbed them. He blinked and wiped the drool from his open mouth. Then leant forward. “You are no bride of Christ. You are a blasphemer.” His voice cracked as he spoke and he ended his speech with a fit of coughing. When he had done, he slumped back into the chair and let his head once more rest upon his chest.

  Wirt turned to me with a look of fear in his eyes. “This is most wrong. Ye see that, right? Adara, have ye yer Synthbag upon yer person?”

  What with all the comings and goings and chaos and stuff, I had quite forgot about my handy and indispensable rucksack. I pulled it off my right shoulder and laid it on the floor. My fingers shook somewhat as I rummaged around the contents looking for something, anything that could help the plight of the poor Abbot. “Wirt, is there a specific object I am searching for?”

  “Not so sure I know, just some medi stuff to haul him back to here and now.”

  “I have a caff pill. Use it now and then when I need to stay sharp and alert throughout the moon time. It may do some good. And if not, won’t rightly do harm.”

  I handed said pellet to Wirt, who took a flask from his skirt pocket. He parted the Abbot’s lips, tilted his head back and pushed the tablet far back into his throat. Then forced him to gulp from the flask. The Abbot swallowed and partook of a huge breath. His body tensed so much so that his legs, all stiff and rigid-like, lifted off the ground, his arms too. Then his head fell back so that he looked like he was about to burst free of his bonds and flee the room. But he did not. Instead, he gave a louder than loud yawn and relaxed his muscles. He sat upright in the chair and stared at us one by one.

  “You have four companions. I do not count that hideous monk as being a friend to you and yours.” He settled his gaze upon me. “The girl must be, Adara.”

  I straightened my back. “Is true, I am she.”

  The Abbot sat forw
ard and gestured for me to come close. I hurried to his side and he spoke. “I have things to tell and things to give. But somehow I have forgot exactly what they are.” The Abbot stared at the belt that bound him to his chair. “If I knew where my fingers where, I would untie this strap. Could one of you assist?”

  “Here, good Abbot, allow me,” Eadgard said and unbuckled the belt around his waist. It fell to the floor with a thunk. The Abbot gasped as if a huge burden had been lifted from him. He scratched his somewhat ample belly, grabbed onto the arms of the chair, then onto Eadgard’s proffered hands and slowly rose to his feet. When his legs forfeited their wobbling, he raised his forefinger and pointed at Ryce.

  “Brother Dominic is a traitor, as is Brother Jude. But I expect you must know that since you are here with that scoundrel who kept me locked up,” The Abbot said and made his fingers into claws. Ryce stiffened and Marcellus gripped him harder. Kendra took the Abbot’s hands in hers. He relaxed them and looked into her eyes.

  “Dear Abbot, did he do you much harm?”

  “Sister, I mean, woman who’s name I do not know, he did.”

  Ryce let out a husky guffaw and said, “Clearly not enough.”

  Marcellus cuffed him around the noggin and pulled his arms tighter. He let out a squeal. Eadgard faced him with a deadly look. “You will not talk. You will be shtum and do as you are bid.”

  The Abbot continued. “Enough harm to make me wish that I was dead and in the grace of the Lord. We must to my quarters. There is a missive you must have in order to complete your journey.”

  “What? In your room? But I searched every nook and cranny…”

  “I said shut!” Eadgard let the back of his hand strike Ryce’s face good and hard and he did indeed shut up. “If you are able Abbot, let us to your chamber.”

  “May I hold onto your arm? I am still more than a little shaky and my eyes are not able to focus as clearly as they might.”

  “My arm is yours, good sir, for as long as you require it.”

  The Abbot held onto Eadgard's elbow for a sec, then let go and walked unaided towards the dark corridor. Marcellus pushed Ryce forward. Sister Gabriel, I mean Kendra, led the way out, and Wirt slipped his hand into mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  A Map

  We walked all careful-like through the dangerous passageway. The light cast savage shadows on the uneven wall in teeth like shapes and claws. I shuddered and stared at the hanging shards in the corridor. They seemed sharper and longer than before and I had to pull Wirt to the front of me to prevent us both from being gouged. The Abbot puffed and panted and slumped now and then, but with the help of Eadgard, who gave his back up so that the godly man could rest against it, managed the precarious ascent up the treacherous stairs.

  Kendra, Wirt and I followed. I braced myself for a scary climb and was relieved and then some when Marcellus arrived dragging Ryce behind him. He pushed the filthy Carnie to the side and put his hands on my elbows. Despite the antsy and gut churn fear I felt, his touch made me tremble in a most pleasant way and I pressed myself against his chest. He held me close for a sec then coughed and let me go.

  “Climb up, Adara. We, Ryce, follow. If fall, Ryce will be buffer.”

  “I will not,” Ryce said.

  “Will. Cease talk.”

  Ryce opened his gob to speak but nowt came out except a hiss-like sound. He blinked a slow blink, flared his nostrils and stood behind me, arms crossed over his bulbous tum. I smiled at Marcellus, grabbed onto the rope banister, put my foot onto the slimy steps and climbed.

  I stopped just short of the opening. The Abbot blocked the exit. He was bent over, panting hard, and Kendra was cajoling him to move on, “One last effort,” she said. He gasped and stood. Eadgard, already in the food room, grabbed onto his wrists. Kendra pushed, Eadgard pulled and the Abbot popped out into the place for eating.

  The light seemed to blind him for a moment and he lost his balance. If it had not been for Eadgard’s quick reaction to grab hold of him, he would no doubt have fallen, killing us all.

  With the opening unblocked, Wirt and I continued our ascent and stepped into the room. I heard Ryce breathing heavily and turned to see Marcellus, with his hand firmly grasped onto the Carnie’s collarbone, push him towards where we stood. The Agro spy winced at the force of the shove, then come to a halt.

  “Must you dig your big boned fingers into my muscles?”

  “Move, or will dig fingers into eyes,” Marcellus said and squeezed the Carnie’s shoulder. “Move.”

  Ryce grimaced and tottered over to where the Abbot leant against the food counter. The Abbot blinked, stared at him and said, “Ah, Brother Dominic. He is acquainted with my…”

  “This, not Brother anything, this, called Ryce,” Marcellus said and grabbed hold of the back of his neck.

  “Ouch. Relax your grip or I will perish from lack of air.”

  “Good.”

  The Abbot held up his hand. “Let him go, tall sir.”

  “Marcellus.”

  “Thank you, Marcellus, and further thanks for giving me the true name of this traitor. I am obliged to you for taking it upon yourself to watch his every move. If you will continue to do so, Ryce knows where my chamber is. Let him guide us. I am afraid I am too weak to give instructions.”

  Wirt stepped forward. “Should I gather some grub for his Holy self?”

  The Abbot gave a vague nod and Wirt set to gathering edibles from on top of the counter. Kendra stayed his hand with hers and replaced the foodstuffs from whence they came.

  “Not these morsels, Wirt, my dear. The food in the eating-place is a little tainted. I shall go and procure more wholesome fare. I am familiar with the store of unsoiled produce. I also am familiar with the Abbot’s room so will meet you there.”

  “May I come with ye?”

  “Indeed, you may Wirt, and thanks for the company.”

  Wirt and Kendra left and the Abbot gave out a great sigh. Eadgard took his arm. “Can you move enough to continue to your quarters?”

  The Abbot nodded and Eadgard helped him to stand upright. Marcellus shoved Ryce before them. “Lead, no funny business.”

  “Unlikely with your cast iron grip upon my now very bruised shoulder.”

  “Move. No talk,” Marcellus said and pushed him forward.

  Eadgard, the Abbot and myself left he room and stepped out into the main corridor. I shivered although it was not cold. The place was empty. No sign of Holy’s or other folk. It was quiet and still as if all were in bed. I looked around at the cheerfully lit place and could not believe so much nasty had taken place within its tranquil walls. Ryce strode down the passageway, Marcellus’s hand firmly on his neck. Eadgard and the Abbot shuffled behind. I quickened my step to be beside them. We passed the niche to the stair where Brother Jude lay and I was tempted to look up to see if he remained. Marcellus turned his head and I caught his eye.

  “Brother in good hands. Still out when we came to you. The males who guard him, loyal and true. Be calmed Adara.”

  I was, a tad. Still the memory of his deadly intentions towards me lingered and I hurried past the opening. We came to a halt at the end of the wide corridor, then turned left down a smaller windowless one. The walls were smooth and white with overhead strips of yellow light illuminating it. I could not see a place where a room could be and wondered if Ryce was up to something. He stopped ’bruptly and placed his left hand on the wall. He patted it up and down and to my amazement, a hole appeared accompanied by a grinding, sliding noise.

  “The Abbot’s room is behind this niche at the top of these stairs,” he said and waved his mitt at the opening. Marcellus let him go and he rubbed the red welt on his shoulder.

  “Go first. We aid Eadgard in helping Abbot to top.”

  “I shall watch over Ryce,” I said and pushed said male in front of me. “I am schooled in S.A.N.T. ways so do not attempt any chicanery.”

  He snorted and marched up the stone steps. I followed, lo
oking over my shoulder to see Eadgard and Marcellus heave and shove the ailing Abbot up the stairs. At the top was a small landing with a coloured glass window depicting the figure of a woman dressed in a long blue gown, hands together in prayer, eyes looking to the heavens. I nudged Ryce.

  “Who is that Lady?”

  “The Virgin Mary. Mother of God.”

  “Wha? God has a mam? In folklore and religion class, we were told that he has always been and will forever be. Whatever that actually means.”

  Ryce stared up at the picture and gave me a look as if to say, “Ignoramus.” I shrugged.

  “She is the mother of the son of God.”

  “Ah, the ma of the BabyCheesus.”

  “Jesus. Why must this new generation of believers mispronounce his name?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “To those who believe, yes.”

  Ryce stared at me and narrowed his eyes.

  “Wha?”

  “If only you knew.”

  I leant close to the Agro colluder. “Knew what?”

  He shrugged and looked at his forefinger. I dug mine into his ribs. “Answer.”

  “Ah, well, the truth will out at some stage,” he said and grinned.

  “What truth?”

  “The origin of the Meeks, your part in their salvation. That kind of thing.”

  I was about to grab his neck and make him spill when our convo was cut short by the arrival of the Abbot. He walked past us, went up to a black wooden door and turned the handle. He paused at the entrance and said, “Please, all, go in. My door is never locked.”

  Ryce smirked and tapped the side of his nose. “Never mind, perhaps later.”

  Eadgard and Marcellus led the way into the Abbot’s room, Ryce followed on quickly, and I too. We walked into a muddle of overturned chairs, cupboards and papers. The Abbot wobbled at the doorway, but was prevented from collapsing by Marcellus, who helped the chief monk to find his balance. The Abbot entered his room and let out a heartfelt sigh. His face paled and his hands shook as he wiped sweat from his temples and brow.