“She must have broken the law, or seduced the wrong husband,” Bradan said. “They're going to drown her into the loch.”
“No, they're not.” Melcorka began to run, powering down the tangled slope with Defender bouncing on her back.
“Halloa!” She raised her voice in a shout that echoed across the darkening waters of the loch. “Halloa down there!”
Despite the noise they were making, one of the women heard Melcorka's shout, for she looked around, with the others following. Eighteen eyes gleamed towards Melcorka, with the young woman within the cage wailing, kicking desperately at the crude bars of her prison with her bound feet. Melcorka saw she had a rag stuffed in her mouth and that her ankles and wrists were tied together with crude cords of heather.
“What are you doing?” Melcorka pushed through the crowd to the captive in the wicker cage. She was about 16 years old, well made, with a tangle of blonde hair that nearly obscured her face. She was also clearly terrified, with tears in her wide eyes.
“We're sacrificing this slave to the monster.” The oldest of the woman spoke as naturally as if she was talking about washing her clothes.
Pushing past the women, Melcorka shoved her hands between the bars of the cage and gently untied the gag from the captive's mouth. “A human sacrifice? In this day and age? We know that even the Druids did not do such things.”
The slave wriggled against the wickerwork, her eyes darting from side to side as she pleaded for her life. “No,” she said. “Please.” She was squeezed inside the cage, unable to either sit or stand in comfort with the bars pressing cruelly into her naked flesh.
“What has she done wrong?” Melcorka noticed an array of bruises and partly healed cuts on the captive's body.
“She is a slave,” the woman said, as if that explained everything. “If we give her to the monster, it will not harm us.”
Bradan stood a few paces behind Melcorka, holding his staff horizontally in front of him, watching the women, with the thought of sacrificing a young life sickening him. Man of peace though he was, he felt a strong desire to lay about him with his staff. He knelt beside the cage and put his head close to that of the captive. “It'll be all right now,” he said quietly. “You won't be hurt.”
“Have any of you ever seen this monster?” Melcorka perched herself on top of the cage, with Defender draped over the far side, within easy reach. She smiled pleasantly.
“I've seen it,” a thin-faced, dark-eyed woman said. “A horrible creature with huge fangs.”
“Did it attack you?” Melcorka glanced over her shoulder, as if fearful that the creature might rise from the waves.
The woman nodded vigorously. “I had to run to escape.” The other women joined in, most of them claiming some personal experience of witnessing the monster.
“That sounds bad,” Melcorka said. “How many people has it eaten?” She felt the captive move within her cage.
“None.” The dark-eyed woman said. “We make sure of that.”
“Oh? How?” Melcorka asked innocently.
“We satisfy its hunger with slaves,” the woman said triumphantly.
“I see.” Melcorka nodded. “Well, not with this one.” She tapped her heels against the cage. “You are not going to sacrifice this woman, drown her, stab her, or hurt her in any manner.”
“You cannot stop us,” the dark-eyed woman said. “It is the old way.”
“What do you mean, the old way?” Melcorka asked.
“We fed the monster when our grandmother's great-grandmothers were children,” the woman said. “Then the saints came and chased the monster away. Now it has returned, and we have to sacrifice again, or it will take us one by one.”
“When did it return?” Bradan asked.
“Last year,” the woman said. “Or the year before.”
Bradan looked at Melcorka. “About the time the Butcher began his killings. About the time the Norse raiding party released this evil on the world. They are all connected, Melcorka.”
“So we must sacrifice this slave to the beast,” the woman had been listening to the conversation with no comprehension.
“But not today,” Melcorka said cheerfully. “And not tomorrow. This woman will live to see another day, and perhaps another 50 years, if luck smiles upon her.”
More women had joined the original group, with a scattering of men at the fringes, waiting to see what the women did before they acted.
“You have a longsword and your man a long staff,” the dark-eyed woman said, “but there are many of us and only two of you.”
“So I see.” Melcorka slid off the cage. “Let's see what happens next, shall we?” Unsheathing Defender, she sliced open the cords that fastened the cage together. “Out you come, youngster!”
Crying with the pain of cramped muscles, the captive rolled towards freedom, but was unable to stand. Reaching down, Melcorka hauled her bodily out of the cage and cut her bonds. “There we go. Stand there while I talk to these women.”
“Come on now.” Taking off his cloak, Bradan draped it over the ex-captive. “We won't let them hurt you.”
Melcorka expected the rush as the women charged forward. She stepped forward to meet them, holding Defender before her as Bradan left the ex-captive and swung his staff, knee-high, to act as a barrier. One woman stumbled over it, another sidestepped, collided with her colleague and both fell, while the others avoided the staff altogether.
Melcorka met them with the flat of her blade, swinging left and right, pushing the attackers off the rock and into the dark waters of the loch.
“Now the monster can feed!” Melcorka yelled, laughing as her attackers hesitated, with the men first to turn away and the dark-eyed woman urging them on. From a safe distance, one of the older men lifted a stone and threw it towards Melcorka.
“You!” Melcorka pointed to the dark-eyed woman. “You are brave when trying to drown slaves or encouraging others to fight. Come and face me! If you win, you can throw
