Delaney. Part XVII
The night is cloudless and the moon bright. A distinct disadvantage when one is attempting a clandestine journey out of the country. But a nun’s vestments are a cloak of dark, and so Sister Mary Eunice and Magdalene are only shadows as they slip from the convent. Adrienne bears a more natural cloak with her earth-colored skin. She dons a black hajib as she hobbles upon crutches close behind.
They squeeze into a waiting bicycle rickshaw and Mary Eunice stuffs a few scrip into the young driver’s hand.
“Do you know Our Lady’s College in Drogheda?”
“Yes, sister, but that place be abandoned as long as I’ve known of it.”
“Never you mind. Just take us there at once.”
The ragged young man stands on the pedals to get the rickshaw moving from a dead stop, and they crunch their way down the gravel lane. It is only Magdalene whose ears are sharp enough to the low voices no more than 30 meters away. But the men are well hidden near the edge of the wood on the convent grounds and Magdalene does not know enough of the landscape to be suspicious.
Must be some townsfolk passing nearby, she thinks.
The better part of their journey from Dunleer to Drogheda is conducted wordlessly, Sister Mary Eunice consumed by the thought of being able to cast her eyes upon Delaney one last time before seeing her to safety. How she’s missed the girl during this month-long ruse, and how relieved Delaney will be to release the seven-year-old girl hidden inside the guise of a boy.
“I shall be glad to see Delaney,” Adrienne says. “This time we can be true friends now that I’ve learned about her from Sinead. And I have some notes from a few of the girls at the convent. Three pages from Sinead.”
“Delaney can stay up all night reading them.” Mary Eunice says. “Just as she and Sinead used to in their late-night chit-chat. I can’t imagine the journey across the Irish Sea will be quick. It will be well onto tomorrow by the time you arrive in England.”
“I know that my family will be quite happy to have her stay with us.” Adrienne says. “I’ll be glad of a sister. I’ve only brothers.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” says Magdalene. “Your family has enough mouths to feed. And I’m sure my family can help to place her in some orphanage near London.”
“Oh no,” Adrienne says with assurance. “She’s going to live with my family. She’s not going into any more places like one’s she’s lived in.” Then she considers how this might sound to the Sister, so she adds, “fine as some of them have been.”
When they arrive at the abandoned College, Sister Mary Eunice takes a moment to collect her bearings. There’s a large derelict sports field next to it partially cleared of weeds for a cricket pitch. On one side there is a dirt path leading toward the River Boyne.
“This way,” Mary Eunice says. “And you remain here boy,” she tells the rickshaw puller. “I’ll be back shortly. We’ll then be going to the Franciscan Friary.”
“Yes Sister.” He says, then pulls a hand rolled cigarette from his front pocket and lights up.
The three women trod down the path, easily lit by the half moon. On the banks of the river there is a skiff waiting with a couple of men aboard at the oars. Ash is standing on the shore.
“It’s good to see you.” He says, adrenaline rising at the sight of them. “There’s a scow just at the mouth of the river, waiting to take us to England. My brother and the other passengers are on board.”
“You’ll remember, Mr. Rourk,” Sister Mary Eunice says anxiously, “that I need to retrieve one other passenger.”
“She’s not with you?”
“No. I need to retrieve her from the Friary. Will you wait?”
“It’s eleven o’clock, Sister. I can wait forty-five minutes but no longer. The scow will sail with or without us at midnight.”
“Yes, Mr. Rourk. I shall endeavor to be back well before then.” And if the situation was not so harrowing it might have been slightly comical to see the nun at a full-on sprint as she spins and heads back to the rickshaw.
****
“But the child is not here, Sister. He’s staying with the Cosgroves.” Father Fitzpatrick is in his nightshirt and rather confused to see the nun at this hour. “At Townley Hall.”
“Townley Hall? Is that not the home of the man who owns the Murder Factory?”
“Yes, but I assure you the boy is well cared for there. He’s been staying there since the sickness visited our Friary. Whatever could you want with him in the middle of the night, Sister?”
But the nun is starting to hyperventilate. She does not answer the Father but rushes back to the bicycle rickshaw and says with some hysteria to the driver, “Townley Hall, boy! And quickly!”
In her desperation she does not notice the shadowy figures following behind them.
As the rickshaw pulls onto the gravel drive leading into Townley Hall, they come across a gate.
“I’ll get off and you can pull the bike around the other side. It’ll fit, now get moving boy.” The Sister’s volume is increasing with her urgency.”
“But Sister, won’t Mr. Cosgrove be angry?”
“No matter that. I’m retrieving a young girl from there who’ll we’ll be bringing back to the Lady’s College. But there’s no time to lose.”
The adroit rickshaw puller can see that a trespassing violation will fall harshly upon him, and that the nun will be let off, so he simply shakes his head. “No, Sister. Mr. Cosgrove runs the Murder Factory. He’s liable to fine me and put me to work there to pay it off.”
“Oh, I don’t have time for this!” Sister Mary Eunice barks. “Wait here!” And she pushes herself out of the rickshaw and trudges off around the gate and onto the drive on the other side. While she has no idea what she’ll say after waking the Cosgroves, she only knows that this is her best chance to get Delaney out of the country and away from the druids. Throwing dignity to the wind, she lifts the hem of her tunic above her knees once more and begins to run.
As the path opens into a clearing she stops and turns around. There are footsteps emerging from the tree line not far from her. It is here that she sees the chief druid with the parallel lines tattooed down his chin and neck standing a small distance off. Lord Pan he is called, and a companion is standing next to him, moonlight reflecting from their eyes.
“Hail Mary, full of grace …” the Sister begins a panicked prayer and turns toward the manor house, willing her feet to run, though they are slow to respond. Lifting her skirts once more she tears off.
As she leaves the road to take a more direct approach to the house she trips. It is a row of Blackthorn sprigs, freshly planted and they carve deep claw marks down her shins. Blood is flowing down to her ankles as she rises to begin again, but in an instant Lord Pan is on her back bringing her to the ground.
The druid has pinned her face down and his companion looms over them. Lord Pan whispers into the nun’s ear.
“Her path is sure now, Sister. Our goddess draws near to her destiny.”
Then he finds a nearby stone on the ground next to them, lifting it above her head he brings it crashing into her skull. Just a single blow is all it takes to send a convulsion through Sister Mary Eunice. She loses control of her muscles and goes utterly limp.
“Shall we remove the child to our grove now, Lord Pan?” says Vadik, his companion.
“No. The fates have arranged it.” Says Pan. “Don’t you see. She’s meant to be here, in this home. Her path passes through this way. This is the household with power over the Murder Factory. We leave her. The river is carrying her into her destiny.”
The pair lift the body of Mary Eunice and trudge quietly through the wood slinking past the rickshaw boy who dozes as he waits. They deliver the nun to the Friary, dumping the body atop the fresh graves of Brother O’Brien and Eric.
“Cultivate her fate and prosper,” Lord Pan recites. “Poison it and be destroyed.”
****
Ash sits in the waiting skiff looking to the scow a few hundred yards off. A lantern signal flashes for a second their direction.
“We can wait no longer.” He says.
“But Delaney.” Cries Adrienne. “She’s not yet here.”
“I’m sorry child. The ship is leaving, and I’d prefer to be aboard. Your friend may have chosen to stay at the Friary, or the Sister has changed her mind, but we must be off.”
At this, two men at the oars began pulling hard as the skiff skates through the mouth of the River Boyne and toward the scow in the Irish Sea. Adrienne draws near to Magdalene and wraps her arms around an arm of the woman.
“I’ll come back someday,” she vows. “Come back to see you again, Delaney – girl to girl this time.” And Magdalene kisses her atop her head.