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.

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?”

Iamerge didn’t want to feel like he was being imposed on, but he did.  Six times a day, interminably it felt sometimes, all the monks of the community were at prayer.  Only five men remained in the guesthouse-turned-hospital, but for all those hours of chanted obeisance to their god it was left to Iamerge to tend to the needs of that hand full of men.

And what needs.  Iamerge had never felt particularly paternal.  Of the children born to his wives it seemed likely that none were of his blood.  Perhaps that was not an excuse for his indifference to them, but it might well be a reason.  These men, in need of every sort of help, were not even known to him before a few days ago, and with the exception of Conal, he had no interest in continuing the association.

Conal, for his part, did what he could from his pallet.  The good-hearted, one-limbed, man supplied a needed interface between Iamerge and the others.  Iamerge had no sense of their need, nor desire to meet them, so as a team they managed, the cripple and malcontent.  Still the best that Conal could do was identify more tasks for Iamerge to do and the only reward was a little less moaning and complaining.

Iamerge sighed, dealing with foul smelling dressings on the fellow who Iamerge felt certain would die next seemed more than he could bear.  He stifled the wish that “whimpers in the night” (Iamerge’s name for the poor man) would succumb sooner rather than later. 

Despite the best efforts of the monks, Gospels in particular, three of the eight severely wounded that had crowded the guesthouse had died soon after the long trudge from the disaster.  Two of the fellows who had seemed fine and gone on to town, had grown worse and not died before Ui Birlinn could bring them out to Gospels.  Only one man, first admitted to the makeshift hospital, had rallied and asked to go home instead of staying with the monks.  Iamerge had some suspicion that at least one of men he was forced to tend was malingering, though this fellow, ”whimpers in the night,” at least, was not one of them.  And of course there was Conal, who was greviously wounded, but somehow didn’t seem like an inmate, but rather one of the monks now, just waiting to assume his duties.

Iamerge sighed again, the man whimpered, jabbering away in some strange dialect that Iamerge didn’t recognise at all.  It made the man even less appealing, an alien. 

“Steady there Jonesie,” said Conal, “You’re do’n fine.  Iamerge’s fix’n you up good and noth’n to worry about now.  You’re in the LORD’s house.”

The wounded man was delirious, Conal could talk himself blue and that wouldn’t do a thing for these infected wounds.  So Jonesie was the man’s name then, not whimpers at all.  Well, Jonesie, good luck to you, Lord’s house or no.  Iamerge let out yet another self pitying sigh. 

Conal mistook self-pity for concern, “Is it bad Iamerge?” 

“Is it as bad as it smells, do you mean?”  Iamerge barked and immediately repented of his harsh words, “It is bad enough to kill him if he doesn’t want to live, maybe even if he does.”

Conal considered the words, but found nothing further to say.  Iamerge finished with the bandages and took the mess with him toward the door and fresh air outside.  Leaving “whimpers in the night,” Jonesie rather, Iamerge reminded himself, as he walked by Conal who smiled at him encouragingly. 

It was too much.  Too much doing for men he didn’t care for.  Too much laying awake while they moaned in the night.  Iamerge looked out from the guesthouse down the hill and saw a rider coming toward the monastery.

When Rhaury Ui Birlinn arrived with fresh horses and men Gospels had already whipped the brothers, the wounded, and Ui Birlinn’s guard into an organized column ready to make their way home.  It was much easier for Iamerge to turn off his mind and simply do as he was told. 

None of the work was particularly strenuous, just lifting and carrying and moving this cart behind that.  There were the wounded to load.  Some of that was difficult, not for the work, but because so many of the men were sorely wounded, afraid, and in pain.

With ruthless efficiency and tender care, the monks prepared their charges and then stepped out on their way home.  The brother’s chanted songs of praise seeming to be alter them into a work song that gave tired muscles strength in their need.  Iamerge felt it himself but saw even more the effect on Conal.

Conal was one casualty who bore the pain and indignity with indomitable spirit and good cheer.  Iamerge naturally gravitated to the man so that when the column pulled out of the camp it was Conal’s cart that Iamerge walked with, helping to push the ungainly thing up out of the valley.  Once that difficult stretch was passed Iamerge could walk beside the cart and listen to the man chat about life and a future in the midst of a situation that Iamerge could never imagine having hope.

“. . . In the LORD I take refuge. How then can you say to me: “Flee like a bird to your mountain. For look, the wicked bend their bows; they set their arrows against the strings to shoot from the shadows at the upright in heart. . . “ the brothers sang.

Iamerge shook himself.  Not for the first time he realized that his defenses had gotten sloppy.  Walking along with the brothers he had forgotten completely about the threat that caused these men their injury in the first place.  Yet he’d walked along not even aware to the degree that he followed the psalm singing of the monks much less look to the flanks for possible snipers bent on murder.  glancing around and cursing his laxity he noted that Ui Birilinn’s men were cautious even if he was not.  There were outriders he could see moving swiftly up and down the column as well as a few men in among the wounded as well.

“What is it Iamerge?” ask his charge.

Iamerge glanced over and saw that Conal looked distressed himself.  He was flushed and obviously uncomfortable, “I could ask you the same.”  Iamerge shook himself. ”I’ve no complaints.  My feet are a bit sore. . .” Iamerge realized his stupidity too late.  He looked over at Conal and would have apologized profusely, but Conal only laughed.

“I only wish I didn’t have the same problem.  I know they’re gone, but they hurt all the same.”  Conal cleared his throat, “Fact is, I’d really like some of that birch tea.”

“I’ll see if I can get you some,” said Iamerge.

“I’d thank you for it Iamerge,” said Conal, laying back on his pallet.

“I’ll get you some.” said Iamerge as he left to find what he could along the column.