Chapter 15
In which a high speed thrilling chase (in donkey carts) down the perilous path from the Monastery to village of Monte San Carlos occurs. During this reckless and dangerous exploit, Bull, Heinrich and D’Orbergene do everything they can to try to catch up. The Louis boys have some ‘catching up’ of their own to do, and two determined trackers each try to catch up with Beowulf. Very few safety rules are given proper regard.
Although Roscow was feeling moderately worried about Beowulf, (despite the fact that Beowulf’s regular return from “do-or-die”, hopelessly impossible, high risk, life threatening missions, had, to some extent, taken the edge from whatever anxiety Roscow might naturally have felt) he had to admit that he was having a delightful evening. After he and Gareth had separated from Beowulf, they had taken a pleasant stroll through the pine woods, enjoying the gentle evening sunlight and the gradual cooling of the air, until they had eventually reached the rendezvous point.
It was there that Roscow encountered the source of his evening’s entertainment.
‘Are you thee freend of Beeovulf? I am to see that ‘ee ‘as thee finest donkee cart,’ said Pedro, who was waiting for them. Roscow loved an accent, any accent, and from that moment on, he was in heaven. He was determined to make the most of this unexpected opportunity to learn this ridiculous accent (and later inflict his version of it on an unsuspecting Beowulf) and so they had spent the waiting hours in profitable conversations, such as;
‘Pedro, say “I am sailing from Byzantium to Tripoli but my ship is leaking and taking in water.”’
‘Ho Kay!-’
‘Did you just say “Ho Kay”?’
‘I deed. Now I try. I am seeling from Beezanteeum to Treepolee, but my sheep eet ees leekeeng and takeeng een thee water. Ho kay?’
‘That’s great; especially the part about the sheep. Now could you say “how much wood would a woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck would chuck wood”?’
‘No. I don’t theenk I can say thees theeng.’
‘Try. Please? Give it a go.’
‘Ho Kay.’
It came therefore as a bit of a shock when the Monastery had caught fire and he was reminded that he was waiting in the woods on business; and not just any business; he was waiting in the woods on important, life or death, ‘pivotal moment in history’ business. He looked at the fire with some satisfaction and said,
‘Luuk at thut! Ma boy’ll be alung in a minutt! ‘Ee aluss cums alung after a fur!’
Pedro looked alarmed,
‘Your voice? Eet as all gone funnee,’ he said.
‘Sorry,’ said Roscow, ‘I just like to practice; that was “Northern.” We had better get into the cart and just slowly roll down towards the Monastery. I expect that he will arrive at a run any minute now.’
Beowulf, the triplets, Emsie and Amarilla cleared the main gate and turned up the track that wound around the Monastery leading to the road where Beowulf intended to meet Roscow. Despite Lewis and Beowulf having to half-drag a reluctant Louie-Louie, they appeared to have gained ground from their pursuers.
‘Not much further,’ shouted Beowulf, ‘we have a fast cart on the road.’
The others continued to run without comment, apart from Louie-Louie, who kept shouting,
‘Let me go! I am the King of France!’ No one paid him any attention.
As they neared the road Amarilla suddenly had a sensation that something was not right; she looked around,
‘My Uncle!’ she shouted. Both Emsie and Amarilla stopped. Although the Marshall was a tough old warrior it was the second adjective rather than the first that was the most accurate descriptor of his performance in fleeing the guards.
He was struggling up the path, quite a long way behind Beowulf’s party and not that far in front of the guards, who were being led by a charred looking Heinrich and Eugene D’Orbergene.
‘We must save him!’ Amarilla said.
Beowulf stopped and looked at her in disbelief,
‘How?’ he asked.
‘Aren’t you supposed to be a hero?’ she demanded angrily.
‘Who me?’ he laughed and turned back up the path, ‘I’m a legend!’ The others, apart from Emsie, followed.
‘I’ll get him!’ said Emsie, ‘I have a plan! You stay with Lewis and see that he’s all right,’ and with that Emsie set off, sprinting down the path.
‘I just hope it doesn’t involve luring anyone,’ said Amarilla, under her breath as she turned and followed Beowulf up to the road.
Naiman had spotted an interesting development. He had positioned himself higher up the road; so that he could watch both Beowulf’s companion and his cart (which he noted with some annoyance was provided and driven by the same Pedro who could not find Naiman a donkey cart!), and the extra guards that Heinrich had commissioned. They were waiting slightly further up the road than Pedro, and appeared not to know that he was there. From this vantage point, where he sat, astride Burro Rapido, who seemed to be a very well trained and amenable animal (although not exactly ‘lightning fast’), Naiman had seen a fire start in the Monastery and then grow. At this point both sets of donkey carts had begun to move down the road towards the Monastery, apparently independently and unaware of each other. Naiman noticed that the guard’s carts were gaining ground and would soon be able to see Pedro’s cart.
‘Time to go,’ he said to himself as he dug his heels into the mule’s flanks. They set off in pursuit, down the hill, at a brisk trot.
The guards who were in charge of the fast donkey carts were not the best trained or well led of Heinrich’s men. He had really not anticipated using them, as his thinking had been that he would be able to prevent Beowulf from getting into the Monastery, and, if that failed, that he could trap him within. The possibility that Beowulf could get into the Monastery, steal the King and get out had seemed remote to him and so it was his least trusted men who were now, in a surprising show of imitative, rolling downhill towards the Monastery. They had set off on the basis that they might be needed, as the fire that was now burning fiercely, looked like it could be ‘a bad thing.’
The lead guards were surprised to see another donkey cart ahead of them.
‘Is that one of ours?’ asked the driver, whose name was Rousseau.
‘Could be,’ said his accomplice, who rejoiced in the unlikely name of Brutus.
Behind them in the cart were two crossbow men (Axel and Franke) who expressed their readiness to ‘treat it to the shower of death’ and ‘fill it fuller of holes than a colander’. Brutus overruled these cheerfully expressed yet psychotically violent sentiments on the basis that, ‘we don’t even know if they are the bad guys. What if it turns out that they are on our side, some of our lads, eh?’ The trigger happy crossbow men shrugged to show that ‘it weren’t any skin off our nose,’ and waited for things to develop.
As they watched, several dark figures came alongside the stranger’s pony cart. Two of them (one of whom looked awfully like the King of France) threw a body (which also looked suspiciously like the King of France) into the back and jumped in. As the cart picked up speed a tall, blond man (who looked nothing like the King of France) and a very dirty young woman jumped in.
‘Do you think that looked a bit fishy?’ said Brutus.
‘Dunno,’ said Rousseau, ‘I had my eyes on the road.’