following on so closely after my moment of emotion over Morcar, for the second time I almost broke down. That, however, would have been self-indulgence, and, as Sibert had just reminded me, there was work to do.
‘Find Morcar a pisspot,’ I said firmly. ‘I’ve been pouring liquid into him on and off all night, and soon there will be some coming out. If we can judge the moment right, we might save ourselves having to change his bedding all over again.’
Evidently seeing the very good sense of that, Sibert nodded and, pulling his tunic over his head even as he unfastened the door, set out to resume his foraging.
I went to stand in the alley and took some breaths of the damp, morning air. Then I went back inside and went to look through Sibert’s pack to see what I might find for us to eat for breakfast.
The day seemed to crawl by on feet of lead. Sibert managed to find not only a pisspot but also fresh bread, a little jar of honey and a piece of cheese that was dry only round the edges. He sat with Morcar for a short time to allow me to go outside, relieve myself in the communal privy and stretch my legs, walking by the water. After my long night and morning, it felt like a feast day.
Morcar slept until twilight. Then, as if the onset of darkness had reawakened his fears, he opened his eyes, stared at me and said with total lucidity, ‘Hello, Lassair. I think I should warn you that they are trying to kill me, and it is my belief that they will not rest until they have done so.’
SIX
‘ T
hey pushed me into a filthy ditch,’ my cousin said, in a voice that even the least experienced healer would have judged was quite rational, ‘and they waited up on the bank until they thought I was drowned.’ A shudder went through him. ‘I could see them, looming up above me: huge, dark shapes like ghosts in their shrouds.’
I smoothed his brow with my hand, and he turned to look at me. ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered.
What had he to be sorry about? ‘It’s all right,’ I said gently.
‘It was unspeakable down there,’ he said, eyes unfocused as he confronted the horrors in his memory. ‘There was a corpse, nothing but bones and slimy, rotten flesh.’ He shuddered again, his whole body shaking. ‘But I had to stay there, I had to!’ he cried, as if Sibert and I had questioned his judgement, ‘I had to hold my breath and make them think I was dead. I let out a few bubbles, then I made myself stop.’ He put a hand over his eyes, and I guessed he was trying not to weep.
‘They were up there watching you?’ Sibert asked.
Morcar removed his hand. His eyes were indeed wet with tears. ‘Yes. Still, quite still, like marble images. Dear God in heaven, I thought I would die down in that foul water! I could feel . . . things floating around me, brushing against me, and I started to think there were maggots and leeches and foul things crawling on my skin, sucking my blood, and that . . . that body, still in its rusty armour, bumping against my face.’ The horror overcame him and he retched, bringing up a mouthful of yellowish bile. Quickly, I reached for a cloth and wiped it away. He gave me a look of thanks.
‘When I could stand it no longer I broke surface and took in a mouthful of air,’ he said, calmer now. ‘I didn’t know if they were still there or if they’d decided I was drowned and gone away. Either way, I didn’t care. Death was preferable to another instant in that ditch.’ He drew a steadying breath.
‘They’d gone?’ Sibert asked.
‘Yes,’ Morcar said with the ghost of a smile, ‘or else I’d not be here now. I managed to get myself up out of the water and half way on to the bank, although how I did it I’ll never know. Then I lay there calling out, and in the end a monk came by and went for help.’
‘They brought you back here?’ I said softly. I was still very perplexed as to why the monks had not instantly taken him in to care for him.
Morcar fixed his eyes on mine.
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