“You have been busy,” he said to Ryce and walked amongst the debris, stopping now and then to pick up broken trinkets and painted figurines. “Ah no, my statue of saint Bernardine, and my pic of the great Mother Theresa, all smashed. You are indeed a scoundrel of the highest order.”
The Abbot waved a fist at Ryce, then relaxed and smiled. “But I see you missed the one place that you were searching for,” he said and walked over to a large cross that hung skew whiffy upon the wall. He took it down, unscrewed the bottom and pulled out a rolled up piece of paper
“What? Right under my very nose all this time?" Ryce said. Marcellus cuffed him soundly around the head and he folded his arms like a sulk-filled bub and leant against the wall.
The Abbot turned to me and held out the document. “This is what I must give you Adara.”
I took the proffered scroll and unfurled it as carefully as if I was unpeeling the wrapper of a bar of realchoc. I scanned the words and blinked at the unusual diagrams drawn on it, then looked up. “There is none of this I understand.”
“Ah, of course, you do not. It is written in the old style when proper grammar was used. Apart from Ryce, I doubt any of you would be able to decipher the order in which the words are phrased. I imagine if I were to rewrite it in the style you are accustomed to, all would be clear. But there is no time.”
“Perhaps Kendra could assist us,” I said. The Abbott gave me a quizzical look. I added, “You know her as Sister Gabriel?”
“Ah yes. Indeed, Kendra would have the knowledge to understand what is written.”
“Written on what?” she said and entered the room with Wirt, who carried a tray full of goodly treats. “Please take some. Don’t worry, these foodstuffs are not drugged.”
Wirt offered the fare to one and all present, even Ryce. I partook of something scrumptious, but the Abbot waved him away and patted his rotund gut.
“Thank you no. I am still somewhat out of sorts. Perhaps later. Kendra, Adara holds the information needed to continue her mission. Which must proceed most swiftly. Unfortunately, she and her companions are unable to read its message. I thought you with your vast knowledge of most things would be able to be of assistance?”
Kendra nodded and I gave her the missive. She perused the thing through half closed eyes, then handed it back. “Right, all is now clear. My dears, we are to leave at once and follow the co-ordinates listed on the page. Eadgard, I must come too since without my assistance you will be lost in the air and on land.”
“We not like idea of spy woman attaching to group.”
“Marcellus, dear one, you must realise by now that I am not a spy. Besides, you have no choice, it is meant to be.”
She rolled up the info sheet and walked out of the room. I exchanged a “What the huff?” glance at Wirt and Eadgard. I thought I saw a look of lustiness in said S.A.N.T.’s eyes as his gaze followed her out of the room. Wirt made a smooch noise and Eadgard let his face resume its serious look. Marcellus grabbed Ryce and pushed him through the door. The Abbot gestured for me to follow.
“Right then, it seems we must go and quick. Wirt, gather up the grub and let us depart,” I said. With Eadgard, Wirt and the Abbot following, I quickly left the messed up room went down the stairs and through the small corridor. All the while, Ryce’s enigmatic words, “The origin of the Meeks, your part in their salvation,” swirled around my noggin.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lullaby
When we entered the vast lobby I was somewhat taken aback at the sight of Brother Jude. He stood by the main entrance, his head hanging, and blood dripping from a deep gash across his jaw. Bestanden, along with the other skirted males, stood either side of him. Marcellus removed his grip on Ryce and Bestanden grabbed the Carnie’s wrist and pulled him to stand by his fellow spy.
“Brother Jude wishes tae express his deepest regret to ye Adara,” Bestanden said and waved us to draw nearer. I could not bring myself to go and held back as the others walked towards him. “He says he is truly penitent.”
I remained where I was.
Someone tapped my back and I turned. Brother Francis stood before me, and the other Holy males and fems gathered behind him with a look of serious upon their faces. He coughed and said, “Hear his words, if you must, if he must say them. Then go. We read the books. We spoke to those Woodsfolk males and learnt of your mission. You must go, Adara, and quickly.”
How different he looked. His pale complexion was tinged with red and his eyes held a fierceness absent from our last meeting. I knew his words were true. So I stood tall, pulled in my belly, straightened my spine, put my arms behind my back and said, “You are wise and right. It is time to face my fear and put it aside.”
I strode to where Brother Jude stood. The Woodfsolk guards parted and the non-monk lifted his head. His mouth was swollen and he bore the marks of a cuff or two upon his cheek.
“Wirt, what is his real name and what does it mean?”
Wirt leant in close, looked him in the eye, stepped back and said, “Atyhtan. Enticer. Fitting wouldn’t ye say.”
“Fitting indeed. Another Carnie too. Out with it traitor, say what you must so that I and my fellow travellers may leave.”
Atyhtan blinked, looked at all that had closed in to hear his words and simply laughed. Ryce joined in and I boiled inside.
“Ye are a baddun’ through and through,” Wirt said and Bestanden gave both devious males a goodly wallop. They fell to their knees. Ryce buckled further and lay face down on the ground. I stood over him and nudged his ribs with my foot.
“Up, do not fake further,” I said and dug my shoe in hard. He let out a gruff cry and slowly got to his feet, leaving behind much of his beard. “What the huff?”
“What means this?” Eadgard said and picked up the whispy strands.
“It would seem, my dears, that there was more sham to this Carnie than we thought.”
I stared at the male in front of me. His chin laid bare except for odd bits of hair that stuck to it. He stared at me with narrowed eyes. “A deception would not be a good one without some sort of disguise. Would you not agree Sister that is not what she appears to be? We are Carnies, called in to do Agro dirty work.” He gave me a sneer-eyed look. “Do not look at me with an expression of condemnation, freak.”
“Carnie filth!” I felt the blood pound through my veins and closed my eyes. I took in some deeply breaths and let my heart slow to a regular pace. Once composed, I raised my lids. “All move to one place behind me. For further safety measures, block your ears as best you can.”
“Adara, what are ye to do?”
“I am going to use the teachings of Brother Jude. Now if you will do as I say.”
Atyhtan let out a raspy moan and stood beside Ryce, who’s face turned all pasty when he saw the look of fear in his pal’s eyes. He turned to Eadgard and said all wobble-voiced, “Do not let her do this.”
I smirked and put my hands behind my back. “Go now, my friends, I am about to begin.’
Eadgard and Kendra took the Abbot by the arms and led him away. Wirt gave me a heartfelt nod and gestured for Bestanden, the Woodsfolk and the Holy’s to follow him to a safe distance. Marcellus smiled, put his hands over his ears and stood by my side. I tried to push him away, but he shook his head and stared at the two males that huddled close to each other.
“Sing, Adara,” my most special Marcellus, said.
I stood tall, then took a deep breath.
Ryce raised his hands and pressed them together as if about to say a prayer. “Adara, I beg some sort of mercy.” He turned to his scheming chum. “Atyhtan, do something. Make that noise that makes folk fall down in pain.”
The once Brother Jude shook his head and pointed at his throat. I saw bruising around his larynx and surmised he had tried some sound to floor Bestanden and his kin. It was clear that they had stopped him from warbling mean with a well-placed squeeze.
Ryce began to shake and I swear I saw tears roll down his cheek
s. I stared into their big round eyes, unmoved by the look of dread I saw in them and spoke, “I cannot allow you to do more harm.”
I swallowed in more than enough air for my purposes, opened my mouth and directed the sound that gushed from it, right into their ears alone. I sang a note, then two and more. Rising, falling trilling and bending notes until blood ran freely from their ears and nose. Ryce crawled towards me. I stopped for a sec and he spoke through bubbles of froth. “Cease, and I will tell you more of what we talked of earlier.”
“No tricks?”
“None.”
“Then speak.”
He gasped and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Meeks are fashioned, not miracles. Each mother,” he paused to draw in breath and continued in staggered sentences, “mother’s wombs…used…unaware…they gave birth to…”
He coughed and grabbed my leg. Then opened his gob ready to spill more, but was unable to. Marcellus pounced upon him and yanked him from his prone position. He flung him hard against the floor and quick as a snap of the fingers, he grabbed his head and turned it sharp and swift. The Carnie fell limp and lifeless. Marcellus stepped over his bod and took my hand.
“He harm, Adara?”
“What have you done?”
“He attack, we stop.”
I wanted to scold my pal, to say that this nasty Carnie was about to divulge a secret. A humungous fact that all must know. But the look of dote upon his face when he glanced at me, made all thoughts except for those of reciprocal pash, vanish. I gave him a smile instead.
Wirt stared down at the pitiful sight of the fraudulent scum lying contorted on the floor, and pointed at the other Agro spy. His eyes narrowed and his lips thinned as he spoke in a voice full of hate. “Will ye not continue yer song, Adara?”
I stared at Atyhtan. He squatted on the ground, his arms around his knees, rocking back and forth. Marcellus touched my shoulder and gave me a look so tender and full of devotion that I near fainted with the force of it. I gulped and put my hand on his. He lifted it to his lips, kissed my knuckles and said, “Powerful and wise. Sing again, put end to this vile creature.”
A pathetic moan rose from Atyhtan’s lips and I turned my attention to the huddled up Carnie. I remembered his scolding when I spilled about sending forth the raptors to maim those at the Nearly camp. I remembered his teachings. How it felt to control my voice and send its force to deliver good as well as bad.
“Put the wretched thing out of its misery, my dear.” The words Kendra spoke were fierce, but delivered with compassion. “For his own sake as well as ours.” She stood by the Abbot, who, on hearing her words, placed his hand over her arm.
“No. No more murders. This is a house of God. I will not see further acts of brutality,” he said and glared at Marcellus.
“Do not admonish our friend. Truth be told I was but a moth wing away from doing what he did first. I do not hold with unnecessary acts of violence Abbot, but I, like Marcellus, am convinced that Adara was most likely in danger form this male.”
“I too echo this Backpacker’s words. I would hae brought down my club just as quick,” Bestanden said and stood next to Eadgard by way of emphasising his resolve.
The Abbot shook his head all slow and released Kendra. She stood by Atyhtan and spoke. “He is a danger to us all, Abbot. We cannot let him prevail.”
“I will not allow harm to come to him. I will not!” The Abbot went all red-faced and marched over to the trembling Carnie. He stood before him and said, “Enough bloodshed.”
Bestanden whistled through his teeth. “To my way of thinking, Abbot, the bloodshed has nae even begun.”
“Time for talk gone. We take cowering fake monk outside god house so will not offend,” Marcellus said and moved towards the Abbot.
“Stop,” I said. All turned. “The Abbot is right. Atyhtan must not be harmed.”
“Wha? Nay Adara, ye cannot let the Carnie live. He will betray and worse.”
“That I know. Wirt, Abbot, all, move away from Atyhtan.”
All did except for the Abbot. “What are you going to do?”
“I am merely going to sing a lullaby. A tune I heard when I was but a bub. Sung to me from my mam’s lips, to make my mind all empty-like so that I could fall asleep and dream of nowt but goodly things.”
“And this will work? You will cause this wretch to do no harm?”
“That is the plan.”
“Then I concur,” the Abbot said and went to stand with the others.
I went to Atyhtan. He whimpered and put his head between his knees. I knelt down next to him. Leaning in close, I put my lips near to his neck, opened my mouth and sang low and clear.
I made the sound reverberate along his spine and up towards his skull. He tensed for a sec then went quite limp. He fell back, eyes closed with a look of calm across his battered face.
“Goodly deed,” Wirt said and slapped me on the back. “How long is he out for?”
I scratched my head. “Dunno, never done this before.”
Wirt nudged the slumbering Carnie with his foot and he let out a mighty snore.
“Sleeping like a bub on its mammy’s chest. Adara, ye are a wonder,” Wirt said and clapped.
Eadgard, the Woodsfolk and the Holy’s, joined in. I gave them a small bow. They continued their applause and one by one came to shake my hand. The Abbot was uneasier with what he saw and inched towards me as if I was a tethered wolfie. Kendra out strode his tiny steps and put her hands on my shoulder. “Adara, my dear one, you are truly a wonder. I must be on my best behaviour lest you use your voice on me.”
“Nah, never Kendra, I would not.”
“I know. It is only a jest to break the atmosphere of dread.”
The Abbot stared at me for a sec, clasped his hands and put said knuckles against his mouth. He took a step closer, lowered his mitts and said, “What to say? God has given you this talent. So I must praise you in his name.”
“Ta, I think.”
The Abbot frowned, then grinned and let out a husky chortle that spread around the rest until all were wet of eye. He turned to me and put his hand on my noggin. For a moment, I felt such tranquillity that I wished it would last forever.
“Go in peace my child,” he said and lifted his forefinger in the air to make an invisible cross-like shape. The Holy’s did the same and Brother Francis stepped forward.
“We are stronger than before. We have knowledge and,” he said and turned to Bestanden, “allies.”
Said Woodsmale struck his ample chest with his fist and bowed. Wirt, Kendra and Marcellus stood by my side. I felt a surge of energy fill me at the nearness of my friends and when Eadgard gestured towards the exit and said, “It is past the time for leaving. Come, let us go.” I was ready to take on each and every Agro. I was about to leave when I caught sight of the prone figures of Atyhtan and Ryce.
“What about the Carnies?”
On hearing my question, Bestanden approached. “I wi dispose of these two?”
“Erm, one, surely. Only Ryce needs to be ‘disposed of’.”
The massive Woodsmale coughed, then looked me in the eye. “I will take care of everything. Ye do nae need to bother yerself with thoughts of those two Carnies, living or dead.”
Eadgard nodded and shook his hand. Bestanden offered his great mitt to me and I shook it cautiously.
“Right, all is good then. Come, Adara,” Eadgard said and led me to where Kendra stood by the exit. She smiled and he went back to the others.
“I shall miss this place, my dear.” She sighed, took my arm and we went through the great door and out into the soothing afternoon light. I turned my head to see Wirt, Marcellus and Eadgard shake hands with the Abbot and Bestanden, who gave my friends a knowing wink. Eadgard returned said eye gesture, then they walked all quick-like towards Kendra and myself.
Soothed by the gentle grin on my Clonie best pal’s face, I let my nostrils fill with the sweet scent that drifted from the walled garden, and f
ollowed them to the metal birdybird we had landed in.
A cold breeze whipped around my ankles. It left a strange tingle that spread throughout my bod. An inner itch that I could not scratch. With a churning gut all tight and jiggly, I stip-stepped quickly to the craft of flying. I paused at the entrance and thought I heard my name being called from far away.
Firstly by many, then, by one. It was a familiar voice that spoke to me in a whisper, reverberating within the billowing gusts of wind. I closed my eyes and heard my bro-bro say, “Come quick.”
The End
The drama continues in the thrilling
A Silence Heard
Book 3 in The Song of Forgetfulness series.
Trust no one - not even family.
Adara and her friends infiltrate Agro headquarters ready to free the Meeks. But there is a traitor. Someone who is in league with the enemy. Someone close to home.
Nicola McDonagh was born in Liverpool, the youngest of six children. She grew up amidst books, music and lots of animals. She originally trained as a photojournalist, but her love of the theatre and story telling, saw her gaining an Honours Degree in Drama and English Literature and a Diploma in Creative Writing from the UEA. She spent many years as an actor, scriptwriter and workshop leader, but gave it up to concentrate on her writing. She is a creative writing/photography tutor, and editor.
Nicola won the Suffolk Book League’s Short Story Competition, and was shortlisted for The Escalator Genre Fiction Competition. Her debut novel, Echoes from the Lost Ones, book 2 in the series, The Song of Forgetfulness, was published by Fable Press. The series has been re-vamped and Nicola self-published them in 2015.
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