IV
The Hunt
At first, they moved with a frantic pace, and Colban was pushed to the very edges of his determination and endurance just to keep up with the hooded, red-eyed man. In the night, with the thick limbs of the trees overhead, the light of the moon did not filter down to the forest floor. Shadowed branches snagged at his clothes, his skin, but he pressed on, the sight of Aileen screaming in the grip of that creature spurring him to greater fortitude.
But after only a short while, before they had even reached the extremity of the forest, the man with the noose slowed and then came to a halt. Colban drew up beside him, doing his best to control his breathing.
"What...what is it?" he asked. The other man knelt down, examining the ground at their feet. In the deep darkness, Colban could hardly discern anything at all. "Is the trail gone?" he said, feeling the grip of despair around his heart.
"Wasn't much of one to begin with," the Hanged Man said. He stared ahead into the shadowed tangle of wood before them. "It passed this way." Colban's heart eased, but then the man continued. "The creature we follow is strong. Fast. Even with the girl weighing it down, it outpaced us." That ruined nightmarish whisper of a voice grew quiet for a moment. "Sure-footed, even in the darkness." He stood up, still looking forward. "It knows this area well. We should be cautious."
With that, the Hanged Man moved on, and Colban rushed along in his wake.
In a short while, they cleared the edge of the wood. The salt air of the sea flavored the night, and ahead of them the crashing of the ocean came on the wind like the challenging roar of an animal. As they crested a hill, Colban stopped in his tracks. Ahead, the reeve could make out the dark silhouette of the inn where his words had condemned a couple to death.
It loomed like a grave stone, stark and bleak against the night sky. Staring forward, Colban realized that he was close to the exact spot where he had encountered the boy, frightened and bleeding. As the hooded man walked on, Colban allowed himself a brief moment of hope, daring with all the hubris of the shamed, that the stone structure ahead would be the lair of the monster that had spirited away Aileen. As if the connection would absolve him of guilt for the death of the innkeeper and his wife.
But even before the Hanged Man moved past it, Colban already knew such hopes were a fool's wish. No, he had wronged the innocent and it was now Aileen who would suffer for it. "No," he whispered, gritting his teeth. She still lived, and his last act would be to deliver her from horror. He quickened his pace to catch up with the man with the noose.
Past the tower of the inn, the two pressed on, moving along the edge of the cliff, the torrent of the sea below them. Suddenly, the Hanged Man stopped, his hands snapping up to hold his head as his body bent forward. To Colban, it looked as if the pale, red-eyed man was in terrible pain. He reached out a hand to steady him, but before he could touch him, the Hanged Man turned toward him, pale skin and red eyes gleaming in the moonlight.
"Here," he growled, his ragged voice made even harsher with unbridled fury, and it made Colban take an unconscious step backwards. "Here," he repeated.
Colban looked around. As far as he could see in the dim illumination of the moon, there was nothing around them but rolling hills, stones, and the cliff face that overlooked the sea. "Are you sure?" he asked. The look from the Hanged Man's eyes made him wish he had not asked the question.
"I'm sure," he whispered, and the rope coiled around his throat and right arm began to constrict. "The dead tell me so."
Again, Colban cast his eyes around. "But where?" There is no place for the creature to have gone. Nowhere except..."
But even as he spoke, the Hanged Man spun the rope free from his arm, the heavy round stone on the end spinning. He looped the end around a scrub tree clinging to the cliff side, and then without hesitation, leaped from the cliff side.
"Christ's wounds!" Colban cursed, rushing to the edge. In the darkness, he saw the Hanged Man swing from the rope in a sweeping arc, then let more of the rope out to lower himself to the rocks of the shore below. He landed lightly in the water, foam swirling around his boots, and he pulled the rope tight, in invitation for Colban to make his way down as well.
Colban the Reeve pictured Aileen's fair smile and then grabbed hold of the rope and began his climb down.
At the base of the cliff, the waves crashed against the rocks with cacophonous force. The frigid water stole the very breath from Colban's lungs as he touched down with a splash, the force of the waves threatening to sweep his feet out from under him. He steadied himself with one hand against the rock as he watched the Hanged Man snap his wrist and the length of rope came free from its anchorage at the top of the cliff and search the cliffside with his fearsome, red eyes. Colban searched as well. "I see nothing of consequence here," he shouted to be heard over the relentless pounding of the surf.
"I did not ask what you see, murderer," the Hanged Man said coldly. He paused for a moment. "The dead cry out here. Dozens of voices, all yearning for vengeance." He looked back at Colban, drops of water dripping down from his hood. "There is great evil here." Turning away, the Hanged Man began to search along the rock wall, working further down the shoreline.
Without any warning, he stopped suddenly, staring at a low overhang of rock, cut into the side of the cliff. It came only to about his chest, and the dark, cold waters of the sea swirled around it. He pointed to it and shouted back to Colban. “When the tide is out, how much of the shore is visible?" he snapped in that grating, rasping voice.
Stunned, Colban stammered out the answer. "When the water is at its lowest, you can walk to Cairn rock, back closer to the town." He pointed back the way they had come, to a distant spear of rock a short distance from the shore. Now, water surrounded the base of it, making it a lone island of stone.
The Hanged Man dropped to his knees, his cloak spreading out behind him on the water. He moved into the depression and then sank beneath the black waves. Colban took a step forward as the hooded man disappeared, but in a moment, he was back up. There was no gasping of air as he crested the surface, nor no shivering from the chill of the water. Simply a raised hand and a crooked finger, signaling Colban to come. Then, he was gone.
Steeling himself once more, Colban followed a man who wanted him dead into the darkness.