Echoes from the Lost Ones (25 page)

Kendra spat. “Carnie scum.” She let go of Ryce's head and shouted into his ear, “Where is the Abbot?”

He did not reply.

Eadgard looked to Marcellus and nodded. They let go of Ryce’s arms, he collapsed onto the ground. Coughing and breathing heavily, he lifted himself slowly and stood all wobble-legged. I marched over and prodded his shoulder. “Tell us where the Abbot is so that he can give me what I need.”

“Which is?” he said and folded his arms.

I could not answer. I had no clue.

Ryce snickered wetly. It was an unpleasant noise like the sound of nose glop just after a sneeze. I stared at said protuberance and noticed that his beard looked different. He chortled again and as his shoulders shook, I swear I saw a wad of hair fall loose from said face covering.

“Do not worry Adara, the Abbot knows all and will reveal all. When we find him. Now tell us where he is,” Eadgard said and loomed over Ryce.

“And if I don’t?”

Marcellus grabbed the counterfeit holy man by the shoulders. He pulled him close and said, “Tell what friends ask, or we pull heart from chest.” Ryce gulped, closed his eyes, then opened them.

“Big words Clonie, but I have no fear of you or what you say that you can do. I know that you will not kill me. You need me.”

Marcellus thinned his lips and glowered. “We not kill, but we hurt,” he said and punched Ryce hard in the lower parts. Ryce doubled over. Marcellus stood behind him and grabbed hold of his smacked nads.

He wailed like a sickly bub and said through gasps, “I will take you to the Abbot. Remove your clenched fingers from my most private area.”

Marcellus let him go. He straightened slowly, puffing out air from his downturned mouth. Marcellus wiped his hand on his troos and stood by my side.

“Move,” Eadgard said and gave Ryce a nudge in the ribs. The Agro spy rubbed his side and walked all shakily towards the main corridor, with my Backpacker comrade close behind.

Wirt grabbed my left hand, Marcellus took my right, and with both of my friends by my side, we followed. Kendra hurried past us to Eadgard, and thusly we marched through the long passageway to the place of sitting down, and entered.

It was strange to see the room empty and without the goodly smell of well prepared food. Although I now knew that the grub was tainted, my mouth began to water just from being there. Ryce stopped at the counter where we had loaded our plates and ran his fingers around the metal front. It had round studs jutting out from it that formed a series of small triangles. He paused at one of the shapes, situated to the right hand side, and pressed the top nodule. A scraping sound ensued. To our amazed eyes the entire counter leftover food and all, moved backwards to reveal a hole in the floor with a spiral stone staircase leading down to who knows where. Ryce bent low over the gap, clapped his hands and the dark cavernous pit lit up.

“The Abbot is down there?” Eadgard said and peered in.

“He is.”

We gathered around the opening and stared at the broken and moss encrusted staircase. Ryce moved away and began to pick dried blood from his beard. When more hair came loose, he tried to conceal the suspish of it by rubbing the whiskers upon his tunic. I glared at him and he caught my eye. He quickly pointed at the opening. “The steps are somewhat precarious. I suggest you tread carefully lest you fall. I have revealed all. Now I will be on my way.”

He turned as if to flee, but Eadgard grasped him by the string around his waist and pulled him to the edge of the shaft. “Oh, we will be as cautious as a birdybird on the lower branch of a tree,” he said and poked him in the shoulder blades. “After you Ryce.”

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 forward 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.