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?”

Smoke came to himself again to the sound of chanted prayers.  He drifted as he listened to the sing-song praises, and in bits and pieces he remembered. 

It was supposed to be just another death at sea like many others before.  There is nothing quite like being lost at sea for drawing another chapter, grown uncomfortable and confining, to a definitive end thought Smoke.  This time the end had almost been too definitive.

Having the bottom of his skiff torn out on rocks and being beaten, nearly to death, on the stony shore hadn’t been according to plan, nor the storm that had driven him to it.  Come to think of it, he wasn’t quite sure that he hadn’t taken a mortal hurt with the way his body ached, and he was thirsty.  He was hungry too, but mostly he was parched.

Still, there were worse things than being bruised and thirsty.  Smoke, for his part, had felt worse.  His youth had been an extended association with want closer than any partnership, or marriage.

He wondered what his wife’s reaction to his reported death would be.  She wasn’t a bad woman, really, but then she wasn’t a very good one either.  Likely she would be delighted to have the freedom of her lovers, her children, his estates, and the full control of the portions of his business he hadn’t hidden and left in the care of his lieutenants.

It would be a relief for her not to have to worry about him discovering her infidelities, as if the children hadn’t told him, as if his spies were all blind, as if he hadn’t seen it all before.  Soon enough she would be dust, her brood would have squandered all his wealth, and all would be forgotten. 

Well, not everyone would forget, he remembered them all.  He was due a vacation, a forgetting time, renewal.  But first he must learn where he was, and get something to drink, yes, he was so thirsty.

His eyes fluttered open, there was dim light coming in the door of what appeared to be a stacked drystone room.  There was no ornament or furnishing save a ledge around the perimeter of the room that he assumed was where he lay.  It looked as if he was saved from death into poverty. 

He could hear the wind against his room, the sea not far away, and the voice that he had heard in the night, the voice of White Hands.  A curious fellow, White Hands, a prayer, a holy man it would seem.