Chapter Seven
A hand had been shaking him, but by the time Axl sat up the figure was already on the other side of the room, bending over Edwin and whispering, “Quickly, boy, quickly! And not a sound!” Beatrice was awake beside him, and Axl rose unsteadily to his feet, the cold air startling him, then reached down to grasp his wife’s outstretched hands.
It was still the depths of night, but voices were calling outside and surely torches had been lit in the courtyard below, for there were now illuminated patches on the wall facing the window. The monk who had awoken them was dragging the boy, still half asleep, over to their side, and Axl recognised Father Brian’s limping gait before his face emerged from the dark.
“I’ll try and save you, friends,” Father Brian said, his voice still a whisper, “but you must be quick and do as I say. There are soldiers arrived, twenty, even thirty, with a will to hunt you down. They already have the older Saxon brother trapped, but he’s a lively one and keeps them occupied, giving you a chance of escape. Be still, boy, stay with me!” Edwin was moving to the window, but Father Brian had reached out and clasped his arm. “I mean to lead you to safety, but we must first leave this chamber unseen. Soldiers cross the square below, but their eyes are on the tower where the Saxon still holds out. With God’s help they won’t notice us go down the steps outside, and then the worst will be behind us. But cause no sound to make their gazes turn, and take care not to trip on the steps. I’ll descend first, then signal your moment to follow. No, mistress, you must leave your bundle here. Let it be enough to keep your lives!”
They crouched near the door and listened to Father Brian’s footsteps descend with agonising slowness. Eventually, when Axl peered cautiously through the doorway, he saw torches moving at the far end of the courtyard; but before he could discern clearly what was going on, his attention was drawn by Father Brian, standing directly below and signalling frantically.
The staircase, running diagonally down the side of the wall, was mostly in shadow except for one patch, quite near the ground, lit up brightly by the nearly full moon.
“Follow close behind me, princess,” Axl said. “Don’t look across the yard, but keep your eyes on where your foot may find the next step, or it’ll be a hard fall and only enemies to come to our aid. Tell the boy what I’ve just said, and let’s have this behind us.”
Despite his own instructions, Axl could not help glancing across the courtyard as he went down. On the far side, soldiers had gathered around a cylindrical stone tower overlooking the building in which the monks had earlier had their meeting. Blazing torches were being waved, and there appeared to be disorder in their ranks. When Axl was halfway down the steps, two soldiers broke away and came running across the square, and he was sure they would be spotted. But the men vanished into a doorway, and before long Axl was gratefully ushering both Beatrice and Edwin into the shadows of the cloisters where Father Brian was waiting.
They followed the monk along narrow corridors, some of which may have been the same as those taken earlier with the silent Father Ninian. Often they moved through complete darkness, following the rhythmic hiss of their guide’s dragged foot. Then they came into a chamber whose ceiling had partly fallen away. Moonlight was pouring in, revealing piles of wooden boxes and broken furniture. Axl could smell mould and stagnant water.
“Take heart, friends,” Father Brian said, no longer whispering. He had gone into a corner and was moving objects aside. “You’re nearly safe.”
“Father,” Axl said, “we’re grateful to you for this rescue, but please tell us what’s occurred.”
Father Brian continued clearing the corner, and did not look up as he said: “A mystery to us, sir. They came this night without invitation, pouring through the gates and through our home as if it were their own. They demanded the two young Saxons lately arrived here, and though they made no mention of you or your wife, I wouldn’t trust them to treat you gently. This boy here, they would clearly wish to murder, as they do even now his brother. You must save yourselves and there’ll be time later to ponder the soldiers’ ways.”
“Master Wistan was a stranger to us only this morning,” Beatrice said, “yet we’re uneasy making our escape while a terrible fate threatens him.”
“The soldiers may yet come on our heels, mistress, for we left no barred doors behind us. And if that fellow bravely buys your escape, even with his own life, you must grasp it gratefully. Under this trap-door is a tunnel dug in ancient times. It will take you underground into the forest, where you’ll emerge far from your pursuers. Now help me raise it, sir, for it’s too heavy for my hands alone.”
Even for the two of them, it took some effort to raise the door till it stood up at a steep angle before them, revealing a square of deeper blackness.
“Let the boy go down first,” the monk said, “for it’s years since any of us used this passage and who knows if the steps haven’t crumbled. He’s nimble-footed and could take a fall better.”
But Edwin was saying something to Beatrice, and she now said: “Master Edwin would go to Master Wistan’s aid.”
“Tell him, princess, we might help Wistan yet by making our escape through this tunnel. Tell the boy what you must, but persuade him to come quickly.”
As Beatrice spoke to him, a change seemed to come over the boy. He kept staring at the hole in the floor, and his eyes, caught in the moonlight, seemed to Axl at that moment to have something strange about them, as though he were steadily coming under a spell. Then even as Beatrice was speaking, Edwin walked towards the trap-door and without looking back at them, stepped into the blackness and vanished. As his footsteps grew fainter, Axl took Beatrice’s hand and said:
“Let’s go too, princess. Stay close to me.”
The steps leading underground were shallow—flat stones sunk into earth—and felt solid enough. They could see something of the way ahead by the light from the open trap-door above them, but just as Axl turned to speak to Father Brian, the door closed with what seemed a thunderous crash.
They all three stopped and for a while remained quite still. The air did not feel as stale as Axl had expected; in fact he thought he could feel a faint breeze. Somewhere in front of them, Edwin started to speak, and Beatrice answered him in a whisper. Then she said softly:
“The boy asks why Father Brian closed the door on us as he did. I told him he was most likely anxious to hide the tunnel from the soldiers maybe even now entering the room. All the same, Axl, it struck me a little queer too. And isn’t that him now, surely, moving objects over the door? If we find the way ahead obstructed by earth or water, the father himself saying it’s years since anyone came this way, how will we return and open that door, the way it’s so heavy and now with objects above it?”
“Queer right enough. But there’s no doubting there’s soldiers in the monastery, for didn’t we see them ourselves just now? I don’t see what choice we have but to go on and pray this tunnel brings us safely to the forest. Tell the boy to keep moving forward, but slowly and always a hand to this mossy wall, for I fear this passage will only grow darker.”
Yet as they went forward they found there was a feeble light, so that at times they could even make out each other’s outlines. There were sudden puddles that surprised their feet, and more than once during this phase of their journey, Axl thought he heard a noise up ahead, but since neither Edwin nor Beatrice reacted he put it down to his overwrought imagination. But then Edwin suddenly halted, almost causing Axl to collide into him. He felt Beatrice behind him squeeze his hand, and for a moment they stood there very still in the dark. Then Beatrice moved even closer to him, and her breath felt warm on his neck as she said in the softest of whispers: “Do you hear it, Axl?”
“Hear what, princess?”
Edwin’s hand touched him warningly, and they were silent again. Eventually Beatrice said in his ear: “There’s something here with us, Axl.”
“Perhaps a bat, princess. Or a rat.”
“No, Axl. I hear it now. It’s a man’s breathing.”
Axl listened again. Then there came a sharp noise, a striking sound repeating three times, four times, just beyond where they were standing. There were bright flashes, then a tiny flame which grew momentarily to reveal the shape of a seated man, then all was darkness again.
“Fear not, friends,” a voice said. “It’s only Gawain, Arthur’s knight. And as soon as this tinder lights we’ll see each other better.”
There were more noises of flints, then eventually a candle flamed and began to burn steadily.
Sir Gawain was sitting on a dark mound. It evidently did not make an ideal seat for he was at an odd angle, like a giant doll about to topple. The candle in his hand illuminated his face and upper torso with wobbling shadows, and he was breathing heavily. As before, he was in tunic and armour; his sword, unsheathed, had been thrust at an angle into the ground near the foot of the mound. He stared at them balefully, moving the candle from one face to the next.
“So you’re all here,” he said finally. “I’m relieved.”
“You surprise us, Sir Gawain,” Axl said. “What do you mean by hiding yourself here?”
“I’ve been down here a while and walking before you, friends. Yet with this sword and armour, and my great height which forces me to stumble and go with bowed head, I can’t walk quickly and now you discover me.”
“You hardly explain yourself, sir. Why do you walk before us?”
“To defend you, sir! The melancholy truth is the monks have deceived you. There’s a beast dwells down here and they mean you to perish by it. Happily, not every monk thinks alike. Ninian, the silent one, brought me down here unseen and I’ll guide you to safety yet.”
“Your news overwhelms us, Sir Gawain,” said Axl. “But first tell us of this beast you speak of. What is its nature and does it threaten us even as we stand here?”
“Assume it does, sir. The monks wouldn’t have sent you down here if they didn’t mean you to meet the beast. It’s always their way. As men of Christ, it’s beyond them to use a sword or even poison. So they send down here those they wish dead, and in a day or two they’ll have forgotten they ever did so. Oh yes, that’s their way, especially the abbot’s. By Sunday he may even have convinced himself he saved you from those soldiers. And the work of whatever prowls this tunnel, should it cross his mind, he’ll disown, or even call God’s will. Well, let’s see what God wills tonight now a knight of Arthur walks before you!”
“You’re saying, Sir Gawain,” Beatrice asked, “the monks wish us dead?”
“They certainly wish this boy dead, mistress. I tried to make them see it wasn’t necessary, even made a solemn promise to take him far away from this country, but no, they don’t listen to me! They won’t risk this boy loose, even with Master Wistan captured or killed, for who’s to say there won’t come some other fellow one day to find this boy. I’ll take him far away, I said, but they fear what may happen and wish him dead. You and your good husband they might have spared but that you’d inevitably be witnesses to their deeds. Had I seen all this in advance, would I have travelled here to this monastery? Who knows? It seemed my duty then, did it not? But their plans for the boy, and for an innocent Christian couple, I could not allow it! Luckily not all the monks think alike, you know, and Ninian, the silent one, led me down here unwatched. It was my intention to go before you much further, but this armour and my stumbling height—how many times over the years have I cursed this height! What advantage does it bring a man to be so tall? For every high-dangling pear I reached there’s been an arrow threatened me would have flown over a smaller man!”
“Sir Gawain,” Axl said, “what kind of beast is it, this one you say dwells down here?”
“I never saw it, sir, only know those the monks send this way perish by it.”
“Is it one can be killed by an ordinary sword held by a mortal man?”
“What do you say, sir? I’m a mortal man, I don’t deny it, but I’m a knight well trained and nurtured for long years of my youth by the great Arthur, who taught me to face all manner of challenge with gladness, even when fear seeps to the marrow, for if we’re mortal let us at least shine handsomely in God’s eyes while we walk this earth! Like all who stood with Arthur, sir, I’ve faced beelzebubs and monsters as well as the darkest intents of men, and always upheld my great king’s example even in the midst of ferocious conflict. What is it you suggest, sir? How dare you? Were you there? I was there, sir, and saw all with these same eyes that fix you now! But what of it, what of it, friends, this is a discussion for some other time. Forgive me, we have other matters to attend to, of course we have. What is it you asked, sir? Ah yes, this beast, yes, I understand it’s monstrous fierce but no demon or spirit and this sword is good enough to slay it.”
“But Sir Gawain,” Beatrice said, “do you really propose we walk further down this tunnel knowing what we now do?”