'Unhand me!' answered the bishop. Recovering some part of his ecclesiastical decorum, he rose slowly in his siarc, legs and feet bare. 'Who are you?' he demanded. 'How dare you accost a prince of the church on holy ground!'
'I think you know me, bishop.' Murdo stepped nearer, staring into the churchman's face.
'I have never seen you in my life,' declared Adalbert stiffly.
Murdo's hand snaked out and caught the churchman on the side of the face with a resounding slap. 'I have no time for your lies,' Murdo told him.
'What do you want from me?' demanded the bishop, pressing a hand to his cheek.
'Lady Ragnhild and her daughter Ragna-where are they?'
'I have no idea what you are talking about.'
Again Murdo's hand flicked out, stinging the rattled clergyman on the cheek. 'Think carefully before you answer next time,' he warned.
Thrusting a hand towards the silent monk cowering at the top of the stairs, Adalbert pleaded, 'Brother, fetch help. Quickly! I want this brigand seized at once.'
'Stay where you are,' snapped Murdo. The monk remained standing. To the bishop he said, 'Lady Ragnhild and her daughter-where are they?'
'Again, I can only say I have no idea what you are talking about,' replied the bishop petulantly. 'You are deceived if you think that I-'
Murdo's hand caught him on the cheek once more, harder this time. The sharp slap brought a new light of fear to the churchman's eyes. 'Who are you?' he murmured. 'Why are you doing this?'
The fearful monk seized the opportunity to run for help. He fled in stumbling haste down the stairs. Murdo gripped the bishop's arm and raised a warning finger. 'For the last time of asking: what have you done with Lady Ragnhild and her daughter?'
'I have the entire flock of the islands under my care. It is difficult to know what is hap -'
Murdo drew back his hand, higher and further this time, giving his victim a chance to see the blow coming.
'No! Wait!' Adalbert shouted quickly. 'Lady Ragnhild and her daughter! Of course, I remember them now.'
'Where are they?'
'Lady Ragnhild is dead,' the bishop informed him bluntly. 'Fever, I believe. I know nothing about anyone else.'
Murdo stared hard at the oily churchman, and decided he was telling the truth. 'Her daughter and the others- the Lady Niamh who lived with her-what happened to them?' he asked, dreading the answer.
'Am I now to assume responsibility for every wayward woman in these islands?' Adalbert sneered. 'You must be insane.'
The blow caught the bishop full on the mouth and rocked him back on his heels. Blood trickled from Adalbert's split lip, spilling down his chin. At the sight of his blood, the cleric began whimpering.
'The lady is my mother, you grunting pig.' Murdo drew back his arm once more. 'Must I ask you again?'
'No! No!' The startled churchman thrust his hands before him. 'The convent – any women were taken to the convent. I can tell you where it is.'
'I have a better idea,' replied Murdo. He started towards the stairway, pulling the bishop roughly with him. 'You will show me where it is.'
There came a commotion from the room below and footsteps sounded on the stair.
'Salvation is at hand,' remarked Adalbert with a superior smile. 'I am not going anywhere with you. Indeed, you will soon wish you had never perpetrated this outrage against the church.'
Murdo turned to meet the first of the bishop's defenders. It was Jon Wing's head and shoulders that appeared in the opening, however. 'They are coming, Murdo.' Indicating the bishop, he asked, 'Has he told you anything?'
'Some, not all.'
'Then bring him. I will hold them off.'
The Norseman disappeared at once, and Murdo tightened his hold on the unrepentant cleric. 'Move!'
'There is no need to -'
'Move!' shouted Murdo, yanking his stumbling captive towards the stairwell.
'I cannot go like this-I am undressed. I must have my mantle at least-and shoes.' He turned and tried to squirm back into the room. 'I cannot be seen like this; it is undignified.'
'We will have a care for your dignity,' Murdo retorted, placing his hands firmly on Adalbert's back and forcing him down the stairs. 'The same measure you granted to others shall be granted to you.'
Upon reaching the room below, Murdo pushed the resisting cleric to the door and out into the anteroom where Jon Wing was standing, spear in hand. 'Hurry! Someone is coming.'
They ran for the outer door, tugging the bishop with them. Just as they reached the gallery, the door opposite the bishop's quarters opened, and a voice shouted, 'You there! I demand you stop at once!'
Glancing behind him, Murdo saw Abbot Gerardus hastening towards him. He took one look at the odious priest and called to Jon Wing, 'Bring him, too.'
The Norseman whirled around, raising the spear in the same motion. Gerardus, his voice loud in protest, saw the spear levelled at his throat and promptly closed his mouth.
Murdo poked his head out into the gallery to see Emlyn standing before a group of monks; from the intent looks on their rapt faces, he seemed to be explaining something to the brothers. 'Come along, and keep your mouth shut,' Murdo said, drawing the bishop out into the gallery; Jon Wing followed with the abbot firmly in his grasp and the four started down the cloistered gallery towards the sanctuary.
They reached the sanctuary, crossed the nave quickly and made for the great outer door, which one of the brothers was just opening for the day. Murdo thanked the startled monk and shoved the door wider; Jon Wing pushed the two priests through, and they started down the path leading to the harbour.
Once away from the church, the bishop, still in his night dress, halted. 'Kill me if you wish. I am not taking another step.'
Jon Wing crossed to Adalbert in two strides. Handing his spear to Murdo, he said, 'Take this and lead the way. We will be right behind you.'
Murdo prodded Abbot Gerardus in the ribs with the butt of the spear and, as they started off once more, Jon Wing turned to the churchman and said, 'Allow me, bishop.' Stooping quickly, he caught Adalbert around the knees, and hoisted him over his shoulder like a sack of mutton.
In this way, the four men hurried through the town-to the laughter of the citizens going about their early- morning chores. The bishop, struggling weakly, called for help and pleaded to be released. Upon reaching the harbour, Murdo turned to look behind them, expecting to see monks boiling out of the cathedral. To his surprise, however, all he saw was Emlyn bustling down the hill to the harbour, his short legs stumping.
'Get him aboard the ship,' Murdo told the Norseman, who hurried onto the wharf, bearing the near hysterical bishop.
'You cannot hope to gain anything by this,' the abbot sneered. 'You are only making things more difficult for yourself. Let us go and we might yet consider granting a pardon for your sins.'
'My sins are not so heavy that I cannot bear a few more for a worthy cause.' Murdo jabbed the abbot once again. 'Move along; there is a good wind, and it would be a shame to waste it.'
So saying, Murdo bundled the abbot aboard, and then turned to wait for Emlyn. In a few moments, the monk arrived, puffing and sweating from the exertion. 'I think it best that we cast off as soon as possible.'
'What did you tell them?' asked Murdo, helping Emlyn over the rail.
The truth,' wheezed the monk. 'I said that we have come from King Magnus on urgent business with the bishop. That satisfied them for the moment, but if we linger here, I fear they may become curious and come down to see what is happening.'
They clambered over the rail and joined the others on deck. Abbot and bishop stood together, glaring balefully at their captors. At first sight of Emlyn, the abbot spat. 'I might have guessed there would be Cele De behind this.' He said the word as if it was the worst slander he knew. 'Heretics and blasphemers to a man.'
The butt of the spear clipped the abbot on the side of the jaw and sent him sprawling to the bottom of the boat where he lay writhing in agony. 'Forgive me, abbot,' said Murdo, brandishing the spear, 'it seems I have
