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Day Four
Dai
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Dai jumped at the sound of a wooden board being shoved out of position, and he twisted towards the back of the barn. His arms were aching beyond anything he’d ever endured before, and he felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes as first Cadoc’s head and then his whole body came through the hole he’d made.
His face full of concern, Cadoc went first to untie the rope that kept Dai suspended. As Dai dropped his arms, he genuinely wondered if he would ever be able to raise them again. Cadoc struggled for a moment to untie the rope that bound his wrists and then gave up and simply sawed at them with his knife, which was sharp and deadly. A moment later, both men had slipped through the hole again and, whether out of a sense of order or to leave no trace of his passing, Cadoc reached through the hole to set the loose boards in place again.
Dai wasn’t so much weepy anymore as light-headed, relieved beyond measure to be free, but terrified of what might be happening to Steffan. As they reached the trees where Aron and Iago waited, he said urgently, “Did you see where they took Steffan?”
Aron put a finger to his lips. “We saw.”
Dai had made sure his voice was no more than a whisper and added, “What are we going to do?”
“There are only four of us,” Aron said dryly. “Even the mighty Iago has his limits.”
Iago was used to Aron talking this way and ignored him, his eyes focused on the little hut. “Why did they take him into the house?”
“To get information from him,” Dai said.
“What information can they get from him in the house that they couldn’t get in the barn?” Iago said.
“I don’t know. They discovered he spoke French, so they didn’t need me anymore. Steffan said that was a good thing.”
“He’s right,” Cadoc said.
Dai nudged Aron. “Tell me what is happening. If I am to become one of you, I have to know.”
Again, it was Cadoc who answered, his voice full of sympathy. “Are you aware of what has gone on between not only Leinster and Connaught but within the household of the High King himself?”
“You mean the way they fight amongst themselves?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. The O’Connors actually encourage it.” Cadoc indicated with a flick of his finger the hut into which Steffan had disappeared. “Vigo is the High King’s son. So is Rory. So is Donnell. Vigo, however, is illegitimate, but even that wouldn’t matter if he could prove himself to be the strongest.”
“By which Cadoc means the most ruthless, the most willing to do anything to achieve an end,” Aron said. “Vigo needs to know what brought Steffan to the fight tonight. He is desperate to learn how much of his plot is known. They have been thwarted once. His brother might not take another loss well.”
Dai’s hands clenched into fists, and he looked at Cadoc. “You should have shot Donnell and Vigo when you had the chance.”
Cadoc didn’t dignify what was obviously not true with an answer.
Aron wasn’t done with the explanation, though now it was more than Dai wanted. “O’Connor encourages his sons to fight each other, but if someone else were to harm any of them, the reaction would be immediate and devastating.”
“That’s what Steffan said too.” Dai’s shoulders sagged. “So we can’t kill Vigo.”
“No, we cannot.” Cadoc’s tone was grim. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t do something.”
“Set up over there.” Aron tipped his head towards a bit of rising ground to their left.
Cadoc studied the spot. “I’m going to shoot anyone who gets close to you, no matter who he is.”
“You do that.” Aron gestured that Iago should go to the right, and Iago left them at a running crouch, moving around the edge of the property. He disappeared behind the barn, only to reappear a moment later on the other side of the main house, a shadow amidst other shadows cast by the moon.
Vigo had posted only two guards, who stood talking quietly a few feet from the house’s front door. They hadn’t moved when Cadoc had rescued Dai and showed no signs of moving now. Their night vision was ruined by the torch stuck in the ground a few feet from the front door.
“What are we doing?” Dai asked.
“Rescuing Steffan.”
Someone inside the house screamed. It was an awful sound.
Dai made to stand, but Aron caught his arm. “Wait.”
A light flamed at Cadoc’s position, something the guards couldn’t miss, though they stared disbelieving rather than doing anything about it. Apparently unconcerned that his position could now be determined, Cadoc loosed an arrow at the thatched roof of the house, which instantly caught fire. He sent a second flaming arrow into the roof of the barn.
By the time he loosed his third flaming arrow, one of the guards had shouted a warning and both had started towards Cadoc, swords drawn. But Cadoc’s next two arrows caught each in the chest before they’d gone twenty feet. Aron had forbidden Cadoc to kill Vigo, but everyone else was fair game.
Aron gripped Dai’s shoulder. “Shout fire! in Danish.”
Rising to his feet, Dai cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, by which time Aron was running towards the house, and Iago had also left his hiding place. Dai would have gone too, but he didn’t even have a knife on him, and he knew better than to think he could accomplish anything with his fists other than a momentary deferment of his own death.
By the time Aron reached the house’s front door, the roof was fully aflame, aided by several more flaming arrows Cadoc had put into it. Aron set himself to the right of the door. A moment later, the first of Vigo’s men burst through it. Aron grabbed the man by the arm, spun him around against the wall of the hut, and put a knife into his back.
A second man had come through the door on his heels, but Cadoc shot him in the chest. His sword bared, Iago hit the half-open door with his shoulder and went through it with Aron right behind him.
Dai couldn’t abide hiding a moment longer. He raced towards one of the guards Cadoc had shot, picked up the man’s sword where it had fallen to the ground, and leapt into the house after Aron and Iago.
The smoke was choking, and he instantly ducked to get below it, which may have saved his life, because someone had stepped out from behind the door and taken a swipe at his head. Dai stabbed out blindly with his borrowed weapon and, by sheer luck, managed to connect with the knee of his attacker, who yelped and leapt away. The reprieve allowed Dai to grab the edge of the door and slam it hard, driving the man towards the wall.
Dai leapt up and had his sword to the man’s throat before he realized his assailant was Vigo himself.
“Don’t kill him, even if he deserves it,” Aron warned from behind him.
While Iago dispatched the remainder of Vigo’s men, Aron passed Dai heading for fresh air, his arm around Steffan’s waist, helping him walk. Steffan’s left hand was wrapped in a bloody cloth.
Meanwhile, the thatch continued to burn, dropping cinders all around them. Iago stopped beside Dai, breathing hard.
“What do I do with him?” Dai asked.
“You can’t kill me.” Vigo smirked. “I’m the son of the High King.”
“You’re right; we can’t.” Dai looked at Iago and motioned go ahead. “But he can do something.”
“My pleasure.” Iago punched Vigo with a hard uppercut, snapping his teeth together and sending him first into the wall and then to the floor. Then Iago flung Vigo over his shoulder and carried him from the house.
