Iamerge stepped out into the day and closed the guesthouse door behind him.  He was more than a little disappointed that Rhuary UiBirlinn was nowhere to be seen.  Another opportunity squandered, he thought.

Nothing to be done about it.  I’ve things to do anyway.  Iamerge headed for the refectory.  The wounded men were waking, and along with herbal remedies to deal with their pain would be a their need for food. 

Fortunately, the monks had done a good job supplying that need after a bumpy start.  At first, they counted up mouths and imagined they need only supply that much more, but the monks of the Biblious Monastery kept themselves on very short rations.  Wounded men needed much more, not just to feed them what they were accustomed, but also more to fuel their recuperation.

Iamerge had benefited from this realization.  It was a benefit of being with the wounded that he was fed like one.  The monks were unstintingly generous as soon as they realized their error.  Iamerge expected that there would be ample food waiting for him in the Refectory.

In a community without doors one hears things.  It wasn’t long before Iamerge began to hear urgent words.  It seemed that the meeting between Gospels and UiBirlinn had moved indoors and the refectory had become the conference room.

It was awkward, but Iamerge decided he might best be served by hovering near the door while the conversation continued.  It was not difficult to hear Rhaury UiBirlinn, “This hill of yours is indefensible as it now stands. . .” Perhaps my opportunity is not gone, Iamerge thought.

“We do not need to defend it, this place is the Lord’s,” said a voice that Iamerge guessed was the new abbot.

“Master UiBirlinn, you needn’t worry about us.  Our lives are in God’s hands.  If we die we gain reward, if it is for Christ’s sake.  Every man of us is commited to it.”  That seemed to be from Gospels.

“What madness is this?  If you mean to commit suicide, go find the monsters.  I am sure they will oblige, but do not provide the meal that brings them to my gates.”

“We do not wish death. . .” began Gospels, but the new abbot spoke louder.

“For a chance at martyrdom we would indeed count ourselves blessed, every man of us.  We do our duty before the Lord, and if He will offer us this cup of martyrdom then how can we refuse?”

“You are mad then.  These are not devils to tempt you, they are monsters who will eat you.  If you think defeat at their hands will be some honor, you go to them, but you will do nothing but feed them.  You will gain no honor, at least nothing that I would call honor.” Iamerge thought about stepping in, but then UiBirlinn continued, “Is the cow honored to be roasted, or the hog blessed bacon to be?”

“It is not that,” spoke Gospels, “ just, all things, even something that might seem senseless or tragic, can be made into good by our Lord.”

“That would be some trick, that.  The lot of you killed and consumed and that to the good?  Will you sour in their bellies and so bring them down?  Wear thee hemlock and nightshade as you go, for eat you they will.”

“Pardon us Master UiBirlinn.  We take your point, I think, but you do not know our Lord.”  Gospels had a way of speaking that could silence you with a whisper, his very softness seemed to make his words more potent, “At one time we had plans for a tower.  It was to house our bells, famously, the very ones for which the town is named.  Perhaps we should consider making a tower to hold us safe as well as to house the bells.”

“It seems to me too late for that sort of effort. . .”

“Indeed, it was half a century ago that the plan was abandoned Gospels.”

“True, and yet our guesthouse is the foundation of that tower and the bells rest in vaults beneath it.  If God provides this extremity, perhaps he can provide the stone masons and crafters to make us a tower now that we need one.”

“Do you imagine that it could be so, brother Gospels?”

“Give glory to God brother abbot.  His timing is not man’s timing nor are His thought my thought.  Still, I have long wanted to see those bells installed, and if God will have a fortress, perhaps he will provide it and home for my bells as well.”

“If you find stone-masons then you’ve found a rare thing.  I need such myself.  I plan to raise a wall above the current palisade, but at low tide an army could walk around the fortifications near the water.  I need to extend the wall into the bay or perhaps build a wall across the dockside and fortify the wharf.  Either way I’ll need stone work if it is to be done right.”

“Are you going in?” The question from behind nearly made Iamerge jump out of his skin.  Iamerge whirled to find brother Corinthians behind him.

“I hadn’t yet decided,” he managed, but Corinthians seemed unaffected by his eavesdropping and he calmed.

“They ran me out, or rather invited themselves in and started all that and I felt the call else-where.” Corinthians smiled, “I expect you’re looking for the victuals for the wounded and the pain mendicants.” a look like concern drifted across the old man’s face, “What do you imagine they are on about anyhow?”

Not wanting to reveal what he overheard Iamerge said, “God only knows”

Corinthians beamed, “Surely that is true. He does.”  Being reminded of Providence seemed good enough for Corinthians.  God knew and so he had no need to concern himself.  “Wait here, I’ll get you what you need and be back in a few moments.  Corinthians patted Iamerge on the way by and slipped in to the refectory.

Again I’ve let my chance pass, Iamerge thought.  With nothing to do but wait, he let his attention drift back to the conversation within.

Iamerge could not imagine what to do.  His friend, normally a tower of emotional strength, was devastated and though he could think of nothing to do he was there, witnessing the break-down.  Finally, reflexively, Iamerge reached out and patted the man on his shoulder where he lay.  Conal seized him with his one good hand and wept and wept.

Iamerge might have run, but anchored by Conal’s iron grip he could not.  He sat and desperately tried to think of what to do.  At last Conal’s grip loosened as his sobbing subsided.  When Conal finally released his hold completely Iamerge felt relief and yet, strangely, a sense of loss.  He reached out and patted the man as he’d done at the first.

“Thank you Iamerge, you’re a true friend.”  Conal whispered, then he lay back and covered his tear reddened eyes with his arm. 

“If there’s anything I can do. . .” Iamerge offered.

From across the room a gruff voice called, “What do I need to do to get something to eat in this place?”

Iamerge and Conal both burst out laughing.  Iamerge punched Conal gently on the shoulder before he rose and was treated to the same old twinkle in his eye that he’d come to expect from the man. “I’ll have to see if the hungry monks have left us anything.”

“I need bark tea!” came a quavering call from another quarter, pain evident in the voice.

“I can get you some cold,” called Conal. ”I’m sure the brothers will bring hot later.”  Conal and Iamerge exchanged smiles and went to their duties, self imposed though they were.

“What am I going to do, Iamerge?” Conal choked suppressing tears.

Iamerge had never been personable in the normal sense.  He had always had too much to hide, but a few times in his life he had allowed personal relationship to worm its way past his defenses.

Daniel, the Jew, was one such, he had been mentor and father figure to a young Smoke when he was moving from the street life into the life of a caravan trader.  Daniel had taught him about mathematics and reading.  Jaleel, the guard captain, had tested, trained, and been a sort of older brother to him, a protector and advocate.  What he knew of fighting he had learned from Jaleel.  Alphaz, the tall, had reminded him of how to sail the seas and what trading can mean, had given him his first command, and treated him as the son he never had. Gospels, the former abbot of Bellton, had saved his life.  All these men, so influential, how then had a one armed man become his friend?

Iamerge went to his friend.  “I don’t know what we are going to do Conal, but don’t worry.”  Iamerge marvelled that Conal, though horribly wounded, could remain positive and even cheerful despite the adversity. This of Niamh was destroying him. “What do you want to do?”

Conal seemed to rally with something concrete to think about. ”I’d like her to have a good life. I want her to be happy.”

“But what do you want to do Conal. You want good for Niamh, but what are you going to do?”

“What can I do? Do you think I don’t know that I’m ruined, as a man, as a husband? I can believe that God could love what’s left of me, the Lord who needs nothing of me, but what woman could?” Conal’s face hardened, “I don’t want her to see me like this. I want to be a brother here where there are no women. No women to see me.”

Conal collapsed back onto his pallet and moaned, “How can I see her like this?  I’ve nothing left, she deserves much better.”

“I can tell her that you can’t see her yet, but you know Niamh, she will be out to see for herself sooner than later and that’s nothing I can stop.  She will.”

Conal lay still, he nodded to let Rhaury know he’d heard, but made no further move.  Iamerge saw a tear run down Conal’s face, past his ear and onto his pallet.  Rhaury reached out and patted Conal, a familiar and kind gesture that surprised Iamerge almost as much as learning that Conal was married.

“Well, the other fellows seem to be sleeping, I’ll have to see them another time it seems.  You think about Niamh and get word to me when you’ll see her.  But if it isn’t soon, expect to see her at your door.”

Rhuary turned and made for the door, his business finished apparently.  Iamerge scrambled to follow, “Mr. UiBirlinn, a word.”  UiBirlinn was already out the door, but he paused and turned back, holding the door.  Iamerge followed him out and Rhaury closed the door behind them.

“It’s hard to see men you command so. . .” UiBirlinn shivered and glanced back at the closed portal, “I might not have come except for Niam always being at my door asking after Conal.”  UiBirlinn kept his eyes on the door, looking away from where Iamerge stood.

The conversation had made another odd turn leaving Iamerge without an easy way to broach his subject, desperately wanting to bring the conversation around to his hold stake.  The awkward pause widened, “uh, well none of that is your fault.”

“No? Perhaps not, but in the end they are my men.  I did not anticipate these creatures, monsters, demons, whatever they are.  That’s why I advise you, the monastery, to invest in strong doors.  I doubt those monsters will be satisfied with raiding trade caravans.  In fact, there are likely to be no more of those while this is at issue.  Without caravans to attack they are likely to come looking for plunder, perhaps they but wait the day.”  Rhaury turned back, looking at Iamerge with intensity, “What do you think?”

Iamerge wrestled with the question and how he might turn it back to his hold stake, “I hadn’t thought of that. . .” He began, but he didn’t get to add to that ambivalence before Gospels arrived and Rhuary turned away to greet him.

“Ah, master UiBirlinn,” called Gospels.

“Gospels,” greeted UiBirlinn, “You look well.”

“True, I’m not dead yet.” Gospels nodded to Iamerge before stepping closer and smiling up at Rhaury UiBirlinn

Iamerge cursed his stupidity, he’d waited too long and missed his chance, he stepped back into the periphery, wondering how best to make a graceful exit.

“Well, I came to see my men.  As I was telling Iamerge here, I’m sure many men survived because of your care.  I’m grateful, of course.  Thank you.” Rhuary cleared his throat forestalling Gospel’s response and plunged on, “More to the point though, you’ve helped them, perhaps you should look to your own safety as well.”

Gospels looked puzzled, “In what way”

“Doors wouldn’t hurt, some sort of defensible position, what if the kind of monsters that tore up that caravan came against your monastery?  I shudder to think of the carnage.”  Rhaury glanced away toward the town, but the guesthouse and the hill too would have blocked his vision.  “We are trying to make the town more defensible, beyond reinforcing the walls we are adding strong-points along it and closing and guarding the gates at night.  Surely you need to make such preparations, abbot.”

Gospels smiled thinly, “Thankfully I do not carry that responsibility in these dark days.  I do appreciate your concern, but we have protections that you do not know.  Our God will supply all our needs, even if it is needful that we die martyrs for his cause.”

“That would be a very great waste and confirm much of what my mother has said of your order.  She is not very complimentary I fear, but if you would not protect yourselves for your own sake, I would beg you to consider the good you could do the citizens of the town.  If war comes, as I fear, we could use your healing hands much more than your martyred corpses gloriously scattered around this hill.  There will be death enough, I think.”

Iamerge slipped through the doorway into the guest-house.  Mostly he wanted to think, and think hard about how to speak to UiBirlinn about his hold-stake and further, from the conversation going on outside, it was clear that he ought to consider getting far gone from this place when he’d secured what was his.  But when he looked up, Conal was sitting and looking to him.  Iamerge knew that time to think was hard to come by and that Conal’s need would not allow it yet.

The rider’s horse was fine and his posture was ramrod straight.  As he approached, Iamerge recognized Rhaury Ui Birlinn.  He looked as if he’d had plenty of sleep and eaten well too, but perhaps that was Iamerge’s bitterness whispering in his ear. 

“Where are your brothers?” called down Rhaury from on high. 

Iamerge felt the urge to cut the man down to size, but he restrained himself.  Here is the man that may give me my money, best not offend him no matter my mood or his unintended provocation.  Instead of a sharp word, Iamerge smiled, “All of them are at their prayers, so I and Conal are left to see to the men.  I’m sure Gospels and the rest will be available directly.”

Rhaury looked puzzled, “You are not a member of their order?  I guess I assumed since you dress like them and were with Gospels that you were of their brotherhood.  I hope I didn’t give offense.”

“None taken.  Indeed Gospels rescued me from the sea out on the Skellig or I’d not be standing here today, clothed or no.  I was bound for Bellton, but was wrecked in a storm.”

“Truly?  Well that was good fortune.  These Monks, odd though they may seem to me, are a marvelous resource.  I do believe that it was good fortune for my men that Gospels and you came out to assist us.  More would have died, no doubt.”  Rhaury seemed to ponder where to go with the conversation from there while climbing down from his horse, “I came to see the men anyhow.  Perhaps I don’t need to speak to Gospels to see to them.”

“No, not at all, I’m sure that the men would be happy for a visit.”  Iamerge glanced at the bandages before adding, ”Those that would notice your coming anyhow.”  Rhaury looked pensive so Iamerge added, “We’re all in here, come say hello.”

Iamerge pushed the door open and went in ahead of Rhaury.  ”Welcome to our abode, the only one with a door,” quipped Iamerge.

Rhaury ducked as he entered, eyes flicking right and left to take in the interior. “That at least might need to change,”  He said half to himself as he walked into the room, ”Ah, I see Conal at least is well.”

The man beamed at Rhaury from where he lay, propped on his one elbow, “Hello there sir.  Aye, I’m well enough thanks to the brothers. . .” Conal glanced over at Iamerge before adding, “. . . and Iamerge of course.”

“It is good to see you in such good spirits,” said Rhaury.  “I’ve spoken to Niam, told her of your situation. . .”

Iamerge watched as Conal’s face fell, there was worry where Iamerge always found cheer.  Conal looked anywhere but at Rhaury or Iamerge, “I can’t see how I can be anything to her.” 

Rhaury walked over to the man’s bed and sat in thought for a moment, “It is a puzzle, but Niam might have a say in this, don’t you think?”