Celtic Mist Ch. 14

"Fifteen steps down," she whispered. The noises from the chamber grew fainter as they descended a wooden stair.

Aoife halted him when they reached a wider space at the bottom, where the air was cool and musty smelling. "Wait, I'm putting the breeches on," she murmured. There were soft sounds then a moment later, a small flare of light. She was crouched, clad in the dark blue breeches, holding a candle and putting a tinder box into a knapsack that she must have left here. Declan observed a long, dim passageway some two and a half feet wide, seemingly built into the mansion's foundation.

"This way!" She slung on the knapsack and set off with a fast stride, holding up the oversized breeches with one hand. Declan unwound the rope that was yet hanging from his right wrist and passed it to her for a belt.

They proceeded several dozen paces, then descended a stone stair to another tunnel, this clearly carved from the earth, and Declan had to stoop in the damp-smelling passage. Aoife explained that they were crossing under the courtyard and that the tunnel exited in a stall in the stable.

His mind raced; from the stable they would need to get to the wall without being seen...he was fair certain there was a window at the far end where he had been scaling the wall.

The tunnel ended in a shaft with iron rungs on one side. Aoife extinguished the candle, and they climbed up into a dark stall cluttered with crates, barrels, and tools. Declan heard a scattered snort and hoof scraping but otherwise the stable was quiet. Peering round the edge of the stall, they saw no one.

The door into the courtyard was on the opposite side of the center aisle. Creeping up to it, they peeped through the glass pane. Across the grounds was visible an agitated cluster of Yeomen on the terrace by the windows to Blaylock's office; they were climbing by turns through a broken window. Others were running from the well with buckets of water. Declan realized that the two guards who patrolled this side of the manse were part of the group.

"Quick!" he whispered. They rushed headlong down the center aisle past rows of stalls to the far end of the stable where there was indeed a small window. A brief survey through the dark glass, then he swung it open for them to climb out. Shouts came from the terrace as they emerged, whether at them or at the scene in Blaylock's chamber was uncertain. Immediately to the right was the tall stone wall enclosing the estate, and Declan gave Aoife a shove to hasten her ascent, then scrambled over himself. Were the voices getting louder?!

"This way, Aoife!" Jumping over shrubs, he led them away from the wall, pausing to retrieve his own knapsack from the crotch of the oak tree that had been his lookout post.

They ran through the field of the adjacent farm...then scrambled over a low stone wall onto the land of the next farm. Field after pasture after field they crossed, panting...skirting wide to the north of the estate. The moon had set, and only starlight illuminated the terrain. Through rows of young barley they sprinted, their pace slowed and their footsteps muffled by the soft earth under their shoes...only to pick up speed in the grassy pastures as they dodged the shadowed forms of sheep and cattle. Stones tripped them...fences and walls emerged from the darkness to impede them.

At length they stumbled to a walk, their hoarse breaths gradually subsiding.

Declan judged they had put some two miles between them and the Yeomen's garrison, and by the circuitous route were approaching Enniscorthy from the northwest. Presently they reached a rise in the land from whence were visible the faint, scattered lights of the town. They stopped and contemplated the view for some moments.

"The Redcoats are enforcing the curfew," Aoife said, her voice raspy.

"Aye." In the dim light from the stars, he surveyed his blood-stained hands and sleeves. His breeches and coat-back were also soaked from the dagger slash on his side and from Aoife's knife attack on Blaylock. Her coat and the commandeered breeches concealed the lion's share of the blood that covered her torso and thighs, but either way, they could not risk being observed till they had washed.

Her eyes appeared to be making a like assessment. "I know somewhere we can go," she said.

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