"Swear on the gods?"
"We swear."
Antolis smiled. "I'm only joking. Now take up those chests and put them on the wagon and bring the whole lot up to monastery. I'll be expecting you within a half an hour."
"Yes, your Worship."
"And if there's a single coin missing, that'll be twenty lashes."
"Yes, your Worship."
"Come, dear friends of Carthal," said Antolis, turning to face Gryndall and the three knights. "Anwir awaits. Are you hungry? We've just had lunch, but I'm sure there's plenty left that's not been put away yet."
"Aye, we could eat," said Gryndall, glancing at his knights. "Dalwynn. You'll watch the boat, then?"
"Aye, my Lord."
"We'll bring you back some food."
"I've always said that you were a good man, my Lord," answered the red-headed knight.
"Does he really need to eat anymore?" Donal asked to no one in particular as they made their way up the hill.
"I can still hear ye!" Dalwynn growled as he leaned against the little hut off the dock, his arms folded across his chest.
Up at the monastery, they were ushered into the Great Hall and met by Anwir.
"Your Majesty."
"Your Worship."
Anwir crossed the Hall in ten strides and the two men embraced.
"I believe congratulations are in order. A proud father now, are we?"
Gryndall couldn't help but smile. "Aye. And a worried one."
"Worried?"
The priest looked genuninely concerned.
"Worried. Yes. That I am responsible for a new life."
Anwir smiled and wrapped an arm around him. "You have nothing to worry about. The gods will watch over your new son."
"You know how I feel about religion," said Gryndall, pulling away from the priest.
"Sadly. Yes."
An awkward minute passed in which no one spoke.
"It feels like a century since you've journeyed to our neck of the woods," said Anwir finally.
Gryndall ran a hand through his hair and glanced around the massive room. "Aye. It does, doesn't it?"
Above them hung three large chandeliers, each outfitted with at least a dozen candles. Dangling from the massive rafters, were an assortment of tapestries, red, purple and green, all bedecked with fine gold embroidery.
"I like what you've done with the place."
Anwir smiled tersely. "Yes. We've put a lot of work into this building. Once the extension is built, this will be converted into a prayer hall."
"Impressive," said Gryndall, searching the faces of his two knights to gauge their reactions.
Both wore equally stoic expressions.
"Yes," Anwir continued. "But, decor aside, to what do we owe this unexpected - though not unwelcome - visit?"
"Well," Gryndall answered, refraining from looking at the priest.
Anwir's innocence act was starting to annoy him.
"I thought I would bring you that money you wanted. And, if there's time, I was hoping I might get to speak with my wife's dear nephew. Maybe talk some sense into him."
A thin smile formed on the High Priest's lips. "Of course. But be assured that it is not money that I wanted," he said, his voice sweet and low, "but rather, money I said might be beneficial."
Gryndall wished it was just the two of them. In a field. Swords. A duel to the death. He'd wipe that false sincerity off his face in a second.
But he had to ignore his pride. He had something important to do. "Beneficial," Gryndall sighed heavily, "yes. Beneficial in that it will provide Lindisfarne's growing monastic community with a larger monastery. Consider it a donation."
"We humbly accept your donation," Anwir answered, clearly aware of the game they were playing.
His eyes flicked towards the others gathered in the Hall. "Brother Antolis, would you go and fetch Brother Lionel for our dear guests? I believe he's at potions study at this hour."
The fat monk nodded obediently. "Of course, your Worship. And after that, I believe our guests would like to eat."
"Very well," said the priest, clasping his hands together, "let us go and sit."
Gryndall nodded. "Thank you. We appreciate your hospitality."
"I have said it before, your Majesty, you are always welcome at Lindisfarne."
"Yes. It's just finding the time. Being a king is a busy job as I'm sure you can imagine. Multiply Lindisfarne's population by a thousand and its land size by a hundred."
Anwir's eyes took on a steely glint. "Yes. You are an important man, your Majesty."
The priest, Donal, Theo, and Gryndall took a table near the large stained-glass window facing the west.
"How is Ygraine recovering?"
"She's getting there. Winifred - that's her maid - says she'll be up and back to her usual self within another few days."
Anwir smiled. "Praise be to the gods."
Gryndall said nothing, but noticed Donal's expression had darkened. If there was one man more opposed to religion than himself, it was Donal.
"Do you have some clean leggings for Theo?" asked Gryndall. "He got a little wet trying to bring the boat in."
The priest nodded and glanced across the table at the young knight. "Of course."
He snapped his fingers and a young boy, dressed from neck to toe in the same black vestments as the monks, scurried over to them.
Gryndall hadn't noticed him standing, statue-like, in one of the Hall's darkened corners.
"Patrick. Fetch our guest here some trousers. Better yet, take him to Brother Amadeus. He'll be able to find him something."
"Yes, your Worship."
"Hurry. They haven't got all day."
Without a word, Theo rose from the table and followed the page out of the Great Hall.
"Boy as young as him," Anwir remarked, glancing at Gryndall, "he'll be High Priest by the time he's thirty. He can already read better than some of the monks."
"And that was his choice to join the Cycliad?"
The priest's face registered a look of concern. "Oh no. Heavens no. We give him that option. When he's fourteen. He's only ten now. He'll be here awhile yet before he's faced with that decision. Of course, we hope he chooses to join our Order," he finished, smiling.
Donal began to mutter something and Gryndall coughed to cover the knight's words. Anwir glanced at Donal as though he were about to ask him to repeat what he'd said, but just then Antolis returned, with Lionel following closely behind.
"Uncle!"
Gryndall rose from the table and watched as the sixteen year old ran across the Hall towards him.
"Lionel. Boy, you've grown."
"Have I?"
"You're at least two hands taller."
The boy blushed.
Gryndall noticed he avoided looking at Anwir.
"Anyway," he continued, "we just stopped by. It's only an hour by boat. An easy journey in calm weather. I was hoping to speak with you while we we're here."
Lionel nodded, his face looking odd against his monk's haircut which left only a ring of hair around his scalp, the rest of his head being completely bald.
"Of course, uncle. How's aunt Ygraine?"
"She's very well. She's just had our first child as I'm sure you've heard."
The boy shook his head. "No. I didn't hear."
Gryndall looked at Anwir for an explanation.
The priest mustered a small and gentle laugh. "We only got word yesterday of your little bundle of joy. I hadn't yet had the chance to tell him."
The king grunted and returned his gaze to his nephew.
"Let's go and talk outside, shall we?"
The boy glanced uncertainly at Anwir.
"Do you need his approval to speak to me in private?" Gryndall asked angrily, his voice echoing off the walls of the Great Hall.
Again, the priest emitted a gentle laugh, intended to smooth out the ripple in their conversation. "Of course he doesn't need my permission to speak with you. Go ahead.
Go outside. It's a beautiful day. We have a little garden Brother Lionel can show you. There are some comfortable benches there."
Gryndall nodded. "Alright then. Donal, perhaps you can go and find those monks with the wagon. They might need a hand getting up the mountain."
"Yes, my Lord."
"What is this wagon?" Anwir asked, looking to Antolis for an explanation.
"For the money, your Worship," the Deputy Priest answered. "The money that King Gryndall has brought."
"Ah, yes. Excellent. Yes. Very good."
Gryndall looked at the priest as he put an arm around Lionel's shoulder. "Are we good? We're going outside so I can talk to my nephew in private. And Donal is going to help the other two there...what were their names?"
"Brother Isaac and Brother Fenwir," Antolis answered quickly.
"Yes, Donal is going to help Brother Isaac and Brother Fenwir bring the wagon in."
The High Priest nodded, his face beaming. "Yes. Of course. As I said. Go outside and enjoy the beautiful weather. Brother Antolis and I will make sure some food is set out for you and that Theo leaves with dry trousers. How long were you planning on staying? Not that I'm in a hurry to see you leave, of course."
His eyes told a different story.
"We'll be leaving in an hour," Gryndall answered brusquely. "Maybe an hour and a half. No more."
Anwir clasped his hands together. "Very well. We shall get some food together and send you on your way. I may or not be here when you leave - I have some business to tend to in the study. But do make yourselves at home. And Brother Antolis, if you could make sure that they want for nothing while they are here."
"Of course, your Worship."
"Excellent. Well, I suppose we all have things to tend to. See you later. And safe travels if I'm not here to see you off when you leave."
Gryndall pushed Lionel towards the door. "Thank you, Anwir. And again, we appreciate your hospitality."
"Oh, it's my pleasure, your Majesty."
Gryndall, Donal, and Lionel made their way outside, while Antolis and Anwir stayed behind.
"So, how do you like it here?" Gryndall asked his nephew as they stepped out into the sun, the cries of a thousand gulls and the gentle sounds of breaking ocean waves filling the air. He turned to Donal before the boy could answer. "We'll catch up with you in a little while. Go and help the monks bring up the wagon. After that, you and Theo can go ahead and eat. Save some food for us - Dalwynn especially. You know how he gets when he hasn't eaten."
Donal grinned. "Aye, my Lord."
The knight gave his king the Order's salute and then ambled down the mountainside to where the six monks were straining against the weight of the wagon.
"Sorry to interrupt," said Gryndall, returning his attention to Lionel and steering him towards the entrance of what he presumed to be the garden. "I was asking how you like it here."
The boy glanced over his shoulder, seeming to check whether there were hearing ears within their vicinity.
"It's...alright."
"Just, alright?" asked Gryndall, catching the gate to the garden and pushing it open.
They stepped into the rectangular enclosure and found themselves facing ten raised beds that boasted plants of every shape, size, and colour.
"Your priest has a green thumb I see," Gryndall mused, taking in the sights and smells of their new environment.
"Ah, he doesn't do anything around here. This is all Brother Fenwir and Brother Smythe."
The king nodded as they made their way towards an iron bench overlooking the village below and the sea beyond.
"Quite the view."
"Yes. That's part of the reason why I like it here. I come out here to think."
Gryndall smiled. "You're a pensive one. I've never seen this side to you before. I guess it's because it's been so long since I've seen you. When was the last time I saw you...about...two or three years, at least, no?"
"We saw each other at the Feast of the Sea. Two years ago. Just before I joined the Cycliad."
"Ah, yes. I remember now. You and your parents were down from Riordan for a visit."
"Yes. They came to see me off."
They sat down on the bench, the wind whipping at their faces and the cool breeze flooding their nostrils.
"Do you ever regret joining the Cycliad?"
Lionel looked off to the west, his eyes resting on something in the distance. "Sometimes...I guess I just get annoyed that I can't do what normal boys my age can do. I mean - "
He stopped and looked at Gryndall.
"Did you hear about..."
The king nodded and a pained smile rolled across his chiseled face.
"And I didn't like...you know. All we did was..."
Gryndall laughed. "I can imagine what you two got up to. I was your age once too."
Lionel gave a nervos smile. "Right."
Gryndall released a gust of air and stared off in the opposite direction, towards Carthal.
"You were too young when you decided to join. You were still a child. You hadn't known what wonders a woman could offer."
"No. I didn't."
"And now you know. But it's too late. You're a monk."
"I know."
The king ran a hand through his hair and left it there, searching his brain for a solution.
"I suppose..."
"Yes?"
Gryndall sighed. "I suppose I can get you out of here. Take you back to Carthal. You'd never be allowed to step foot on Lindisfarne again though, you know? They would kill you."
"I know. I took the vows."
"Do you want to leave?"
Lionel didn't answer for a minute.
"Well?"
The boy lowered his head as though tormented by his thoughts, the head which contained those thoughts being suddenly too heavy to hold up.
"I do...it's just...my parents. They'll be so angry with me. My father might never speak to me again."
His eyes were pleading as he looked at Gryndall.
"I guess sometimes in life you have to take those chances. You have to decide whether leaving the Cycliad to live a free and secular life in Carthal is worth the risk of having issues with your parents."
"It is. It definitely is."
Gryndall shrugged. "Well, then?"
Lionel smiled warmly. "I'll come to Carthal. When?"
"Right now. This afternoon."
"That soon!?"
Gryndall nodded.
The boy's expression suggested that he was only just beginning to comprehend the idea of leaving Lindisfarne. He bent his head once more and began to play absent-mindedly with his fingers.
"I know your Aunt Ygraine will be happy to see you," said Gryndall, hoping to spark some enthusiasm in his nephew.
"And I'll be happy to see her," he answered, his voice flat and lifeless.
"And you can meet our son, Tyrion."
"Tyrion...your son. Yes. I want to meet him."
"Well, you can," said Gryndall, clapping a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Come to Carthal."
Lionel nodded as though he was only hearing half of what his uncle was saying, his gaze shifting towards the village at the bottom of the mountain. Gryndall followed his gaze and his eyes came to a rest on a cluster of simple, square-shaped houses with thatched roofs and smoke rising from their chimneys.
"So...today."
Gryndall sighed, quickly growing impatient.
Did the boy want to come or not?
"Yes. Today."
"Alright...but I have to get my things...and I have to say goodbye to - "
"No!"
Gryndall's tone made Lionel jump.
"There will be no goodbyes. There will be no getting your stuff. This is a covert operation. Do you understand what that means? Good grief, boy."
"I'm sorry, uncle. I won't say goodbye to anyone."
"No. You're not to say goodbye to anyone - and you're not to get your stuff either."
"Alright..."
"You
're to head straight down to the dock," said Gryndall, glancing around nervously, hoping no one had heard him when he'd raised his voice. "Dalwynn is there now. Waiting."
His voice was a near whisper now.
"Tell him who you are and he'll stow you on board."
"Alright..."
"Go on then."
Lionel nodded, getting up slowly from the bench. He looked unsure. Uncertain.
"Go on!" Gryndall hissed.
"I'm going."
"And don't draw attention to yourself."
"I won't," he said, and he turned and headed out of the garden.
Gryndall watched his nephew until he disappeared over the lip of the mountain before turning his head and looking out to sea once more.
There'd be hell to pay for this. Anwir would not be happy. Politically, stealing a monk was a bad move and would likely sour relations between Lindisfarne and Carthal for some time.
I'm only doing what my father would have done, he thought, his eyes scanning the horizon.
Had his father not instilled in him the notion that family always came first? Especially when it involved things like war and religion - two things to which his secular, humanist old man had been vehemently opposed.
"My Lord."
Gryndall turned and saw the smiling face of Donal. The knight stood at the entrance to the garden, his hands resting on his hips.
"We've brought the wagon up."
Gryndall nodded as he rose to his feet. "Good. Let's bring it inside."
"Right."
The six monks were waiting by the arched doorway that lead into the Great Hall, panting mercilessly as they worked to regain their breath.
"Bit of a climb, that was," said Donal, his tone and facial expression indicating that he'd enjoyed the feat as simple, light exercise.
Gryndall smiled, glancing at the two monks doubled over.
"Brother Isaac. Brother Fenwir."
Both looked up.
"Yes...your Majesty?"
"Thank you for bring the wagon up this incredibly steep mountain."
"No...problem...your Majesty. Happy...to be...of service."
Donal hid his laughter as Gryndall motioned all six monks towards the door. "Let's go then."
"Yes...your Majesty," Brother Fenwir and Brother Isaac panted in unison.
The king and his knight lead the way inside, their leather boots padding softly over the well-worn stone floor.
"Do you think Anwir will be angry you're only giving him half the money?" Donal asked in a low whisper once they were out of earshot of the monks.
Gryndall nodded. "Definitely. But he'll get over it. I'm not paying five hundred crowns of my own money for a new monastery. Especially when I've already got what I wanted."