The echo of Harald's shout died away to silence. I watched the gathered ranks as out from among the dead-eyed slaves came the wasted remnant of the Sea Wolf pack. My spirit writhed within me to see them shambling forth-some in pairs still, others by themselves, but all dragging their irons. Off to one side, one poor wretch hobbled towards me, his eagerness made pathetic by his lurching gait. His last steps were ill-judged and he tottered headlong to the dust. I reached down to raise him and found myself looking into Gunnar's haggard face.
"Aeddan," he said, tears streaming from his eyes. "Aeddan, thank God, you have come at last. I knew you would return. I knew you would not leave us to die in this place."
I helped him to his feet and clasped him to me. "Gunnar," I said, "forgive me, brother. I should have come sooner, forgive me."
"How should I forgive you?" Wonder made his features childlike. "You have returned. I knew you would. I never doubted."
I looked at the other slaves slowly making their way to where we stood. "Where is Dugal?" I said. "I do not see him." Once more, panic assailed me. Have I come too late? Dugal! Where are you, brother? "Where are the Britons?"
In the same instant, I heard a cry from across the yard. I turned and saw, stumbling forward through the press, the hulking figure of my dearest friend and brother. Vastly changed, he was-still, I knew him as I would have known my own self. "Dugal!" I cried, and hastened to meet him.
Seeing me, he half-turned and gestured to someone behind him, and then came on. We met in the centre of the yard before the whipping post where we had last seen one another, and where Bishop Cadoc had gone to death in my place. "Dugal!" I cried, my own eyes filling with tears. "Are you alive, Dugal?"
"Just so, Dana," he whispered, kneading the flesh of my shoulders with his hands. "I am."
Faysal appeared beside us just then. "We best move quickly," he reminded me. "The slaves and their masters grow restive."
To Dugal I said, "Do the Britons yet live?"
"They do," he said, and turned to the slaves looking on, their agitation increasing by the moment. No longer slack-witted, I could tell by the expressions on their faces they had begun to perceive that there would be no execution today. But the sight of strangers choosing slaves seemingly at random confused and excited them.
"Brynach! Ddewi!" At Dugal's shout two round-shouldered figures lurched from the throng. I would not have known them in a thousand years for the men they had once been. Brynach's hair was white and he walked with a stoop, and the young Ddewi had lost an eye. The hair and beards of both, like the hair and beards of all, were nasty, matted, lice-infested tangles.
I took up their hands and embraced them. "Brothers," I said, "I have come for you."
Brynach smiled; his teeth were discoloured and his gums were raw. "All praise to Christ, our Lord and Redeemer! His purposes shall not be seen to fail."
At his words my heart twisted within me. I wanted to shout at him: Christ! How dare you thank that monster! Had it been left to God, the mines would claim your rotting bones. It is Aidan, not Christ, who frees you now!
But I swallowed the bile and said, "We are leaving this place. Can you walk?"
"I will crawl to freedom if need be," he said, his mouth spreading in a grin. The skin of his lips split in the violence of his smile and began to bleed.
"Come, Ddewi, the day of our liberation has come. We are leaving our captivity." With the gentleness of a mother bending to an ailing child, the elder monk took hold of the younger's hand and began leading him away. It was then that I understood Ddewi had lost more than an eye only.
Some of the slaves across the yard began shouting at me. I could not make out what they wanted, nor did I want to know. My only thought now was to escape with the prize as quickly as possible. "We must go," Faysal said, his voice urgent, his eyes wary. "To wait any longer is to tempt the devil."
Pausing only long enough to make doubly certain that none of my friends was left behind, I counted eighteen Sea Wolves, and three Celts. To Faysal, I said, "Mount those who cannot walk." He hurried away, shouting orders to Bara and Nadr.
The chief overseer, who had stood aside biding his time, now pressed forward. "You take my slaves;" he protested, shaking his fist in the air, "what will you give me for them?"
Rounding on him, I said, "You have read the decree. It says nothing of payment."
"You cannot take my slaves!" he whined. "I must be paid!"
Ignoring him, I called to Faysal, "Is everyone ready?"
"Lead the way," he replied. "We will follow." He looked around at the guards, who appeared sullen and unhappy. Some shifted uneasily in their places, as if weighing the consequences of siding with the overseer.
"This way," I called, raising my hand and striding forth. I took but two steps and was stopped by Jarl Harald, who put his hand to my sleeve and said, "We cannot leave yet."
