Chapter 15: The Cooper's Hut

"This is absolute madness," Wickham declared. "If Darcy is alive, he will kill me for letting either of you back there."

"And he may be captured, needing our help with every passing moment!"

Wickham scoffed. "Madam, let us be very clear. Brennus has no need for Darcy alive; captured is not an option that exists. Darcy is either alive as a free man, or he is dead. There is no 'captured'."

Elizabeth winced at his harsh words.

"There is also the matter of practicality," Wickham continued. "Trekking back up there for you is easily the task of several hours. If Darcy is alive, he is not staying at the monastery for half a day, awaiting your rescue."

"She could try walking back through the tunnel," Lydia said dubiously.

Even Elizabeth saw the futility of that. "It took us hours walking through it, Lydia, and besides, I will not be able to get that trapdoor open on my own."

"Not to mention that headless beast who may or may not be dead," Wickham added. "Let us be sensible about this. If Darcy is alive, he is not going to be at the monastery by the time any of us make it back up there. You both entered the monastery during the day, through the front gate. Was there any place on your way where Darcy could possibly be hiding out right now?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "He said that the monastery was a fort in a life before this; once at the monastery Darcy showed me how the path there turned back and forth as though eager to drain our strength, and he showed me the battlements running above those same paths. It seems unlikely that Darcy would risk hiding out anywhere on that path. As well, we did not encounter any place that may have been suitable for a hideout. Oh!" she added as she remembered, "we also explored a path to the right of the monastery…it seems that it led to a hilltop that the monks use to expose themselves to the elements as a means of flagellation."

"So if any resting place exists, it would be behind the monastery," Wickham said, "as the other side is a steep drop down to the river." He walked, peering through the trees, and looking about. "We shall do this: I will take Lydia and cross the river, as it is undoubtedly safer on that side. You will not head back to the monastery, but will walk through the woods behind the monastery and see if you encounter anything that will give you any signs about Darcy. We will have an assignment to meet across the river, further on down where there is a bridge. If Darcy is alive, he will find a way for our two parties to join. If you cannot find him, do not waste more than a day. By nightfall, it is time for you to give up your search. You are not in danger, so do not hide yourself, making it harder for me to find you. Walk along the river until you find the bridge, and once there, cross if you can, stay still if you cannot. I will come get you."

In the absence of any better ideas, Elizabeth followed Wickham's advice. She walked through the woods, trying to think how best to go about her task. The morning air was chilly, and she tried to not move too far from the sounds of the river, lest that meant she was moving too close to the monastery. Sometimes, pushing through the woods, she thought herself lost, but then in places the trees would thin and she would see the outline of the monastery against the pale sky and know that she was in her intended direction.

Elizabeth walked in this manner for some time, throat parched and legs aching, finding nothing and no one that could give her any clue as to what had happened to Darcy. Elizabeth felt a great emptiness opening within her, and had to blink back tears and the feeling of hopelessness that threatened to envelope her.

She tried to push her feelings aside for another moment, and pressed further. It wasn't lost on her that she may not succeed in finding Darcy at all, and she could now quite likely also lose Lydia. Elizabeth couldn't even begin to think of the colossal betrayal of her father yet. Even now, she was hoping that Wickham was wrong in his estimation of things.

With all these thoughts swirling about her head, Elizabeth paused, leaning against a tree to catch her breath. She couldn't be certain that she wasn't walking around in circles, and negative thoughts were threatening to overwhelm her. She needed a new plan, Elizabeth thought.

But before she contemplated anything further, bony hands grasped her shoulders from behind. Too shocked to scream, Elizabeth twisted around to find Father Ninian, the silent monk, staring into her eyes. He looked exhausted, as if, like her, he had not had a wink of sleep.

Elizabeth was so relieved to find a friendly face, and she could not forget the father's help in aiding their escape.

"Father, there are not words of thanks enough in this world to express my gratitude for your help. It is because of you that my sister lives to see another day. I regret being such a burden, but do you know anything of Darcy? The shepherd that was with us? Does he lie there?" she asked, pointing to the monastery.

The silent monk appeared to understand, and shook his head emphatically. Father Ninian raised a finger to his lips in the familiar manner, and stared warningly into Elizabeth's face. Then, glancing furtively around him, Father Ninian tugged Elizabeth away from the forest, towards the river. Having little choice in the matter, Elizabeth dutifully obeyed the monk.

Even though it was chilly, Elizabeth realised that the sun was well overhead; she estimated that it was at least noon. After a period of walking in silence, they paused. Father Ninian motioned Elizabeth to stay where she was, while he disappeared back into the woods. Elizabeth had little concept of how much time passed, and dozed off until some rustling woke her.

A young, thin, sickly-looking Pict monk emerged from the woods with Father Ninian. Elizabeth had no concept of the young monk's language, but he spoke Brittonic well enough for them to converse.

"I've been chosen to be your guide," he said triumphantly, in Elizabeth's language. "Father Ninian says we're to go quietly and unseen. Be brave, cousin, you'll be at your beloved's side before long."

Elizabeth turned to Father Ninian. She wanted to embrace him, but worried about giving offence. Instead, she touched his feet in what she hoped would be construed as a gesture of respect. "Good Father, I owe you my, and my sister's life. I thank you for all your help, then and now. Please take care of yourself, and Father Jonus too. I hope that a day will come when I am able to properly give my thanks to what my family owes you."

Father Ninian bowed slightly, and touched her head in what seemed like a blessing. He then turned around and walked back the way he came.

For the first part of the journey by the river, the young monk spoke with relish, answering all her questions.

"Have you seen Darcy? The shepherd? Do you know how bad his wounds are, and if they are mortal?"

"He's at the cooper's cottage; I am taking to him some ointment as instructed by Father Jonus, and there's none wiser than him. I have not seen your shepherd yet, but I do not believe that his wounds are mortal; Father Jonus would send herbs, not ointment if that was the case."

Elizabeth was almost giddy with relief. She would soon be reunited with Darcy, and there was reason to believe that he was not so badly hurt!

"Father Ninian came out to see if you and your sister made good your escape, and instead, found the shepherd wandering down the hillside with his mare while it was still dark. He was dazed and wounded, but still alive, even as the rest of us watched the blazing tower and prayed for the trapped men inside. The few of us who know this news have been counselled by Father Jonus to keep it a solemn secret, even from the abbot himself. For he fears if the news gets further, Lord Brennus will send out more soldiers seeking vengeance. You'd do well not to whisper a word of it to anyone, at least not until you're both far from this country."

Elizabeth nodded furiously.

"The best of men is Father Jonus, and still our wisest, even after what the birds have done to him."

Elizabeth wholeheartedly agreed.

"It was foolish of you to come back as you did, and after you'd made good your escape. Father Jonus will be angry to hear of it. But I suppose that is to be expected when two people love each other – you must understand that we don't see young couples at the monastery, at least not since I have been here. And, what luck for you, here you are, safely away again, and no one's the wiser about your escape."

It occurred to Elizabeth that the young monk was under a misapprehension about the nature of the relationship between herself and Darcy, but Elizabeth chose not to correct him.

"But what an affair this is! Is your beloved always so quarrelsome? Or is it one of the soldiers made some fierce insult to him in passing? Perhaps once you reach his bedside, cousin, you'll ask him how it all began, for none of us can make head or tail of it. Whatever purpose brought the soldiers to see the abbot, they seemed to soon forget and turning into wild men, set about trying to extract payment from your shepherd.

I myself woke at the sounds of the shouting, even though my own chamber's far from the courtyard. I ran there in alarm, only to stand helpless alongside my fellow monks, watching in horror all that unfolded. Your beloved, they soon told me, had run into the ancient tower to escape the wrath of the soldiers, and though they rushed in after him with a mind to tear him limb from limb, it seems he began to fight them as best he knew. And a surprising match he seemed to be, even though they were thirty or more and he just one Saxon shepherd. We watched expecting any moment to see his bloody remains brought out, and instead it's soldier after soldier running from that tower in panic, or staggering out carrying wounded comrades. We could hardly believe our eyes! We were praying for the quarrel soon to end, for whatever the original insult, such violence's surely uncalled for. Yet it went on and on, and then cousin, the dreadful accident occurred. Who knows it wasn't God himself, frowning on so black a quarrel within his holy buildings, pointed a finger and struck them with fire? More likely it was one of the soldiers running back and forth with torches tripped and made his great error. The horror of it! Suddenly the tower was ablaze! And who'd think an old damp tower could offer so much kindling? Yet blaze it did and Lord Brennus' men together with your beloved caught within. They'd have done better forgetting their quarrel at once and running out as fast as they could, but I fancy they thought instead to fight the flames, and saw only too late the fires engulfing them. An accident of true ghastliness, and the few who came out did so just to die twisting horribly on the ground. Yet miracle of miracles, cousin, your beloved turns out escaped! You are truly a lucky woman, having seen your sister and beloved both saved in impossible circumstances."

Soon, the young monk changed their course and left the riverside to enter the trees, and immediately upon doing so, he fell silent. Elizabeth first wondered if she had in some way offended her guide. It then struck her that it was more likely the monk was simply anxious not to attract the attention of whatever lurked in these woods; amidst the pleasant birdsong, there had also been some strange hissings and murmurs. Seeing what she had seen of the beast inside the tunnel, Elizabeth shared the sentiment. For a long while, they walked like this, until the young monk stopped ahead of her. He was holding back blackthorn with a stick. He spoke at last, in a hushed voice. "A short cut. We'll soon see the roof of the cooper's cottage."

As they came out of the woods to where the land swept down into the receding fog, Elizabeth could still hear movement and hissing in the nearby bracken.

The cooper's hut appeared to be built inside a deep ditch, its thatch roof so close to the earth that Elizabeth, lowering her head to pass under it, felt she was climbing into a hole. She had been prepared for the darkness, but the stifling warmth - and the thick woodsmoke - took her aback, and she announced her arrival with a fit of coughing.

Darcy's voice came out of the darkness beyond the smouldering fire.

"I'm pleased to see you safe, Princess."