This chapter tells O Drustina's escape from the Bishop's clutches.

The Angry Mermaid 24

Or

Y Morforwyn Dicllon 24.

Mabina. The youngest daughter and Twin to
Drustan Her twin brother.
Grandpa Erin The twins grandfather.
Giana The twins grandmother
Caderyn The twins father.
Herenoie The twins wise and beautiful mother.
Morgaran The Twins oldest brother.
Aiofe The twins oldest sister. Famous for her beauty.
Tara The twins second oldest sister. Famous for her grace.
Feidlim Twins aunt (Caderyns’ beautiful sister.)
Mogantu Twins uncle (Married to Feidlim.) Chief of the Gangani tribe.
Brun. Twins 2nd cousin and the Acaman clans’ blacksmith.
Feorin. Twins second brother. Also training to be a blacksmith.
Rhun Feidlims’ son and Feorins’ favourite 1st Cousin. (Both red-heads.)
Arina Child of a Demetae fisherman, (rescued by Aiofe, Drustan &Mabina.)
Penderol Dumnonii Minor chief.
Udris Young Dumnonii warrior.
Dryslwyn High chief of the whole Celtic nation. Dwells in Brithony.
Bronlwyn Dryslwyn’s wife (and queen.)
Magab The moor who taught numbers.
Eric Saxon galley slave rescued from Corsair pirates.
Carl Another Saxon galley slave rescued by Drustan.
Torvel Celtic galley slave rescued from the same captured corsair ship
Arton. Turdetani Chieftain Holder of Gibral Rock.
Carinia Arton’s wife.
Isobel. Arton’s adopted daughter.
Appotel King of the Turdetani Tribe. (Southern Iberia.)
Bramana Queen. (Wife of Appotel)
Pilus King of the Capetani.
Shaleen Pilus’s queen and sister to Bramana.
Pedoro Lord Marshal of the Southern border region.
Lady Shulaar Lord Pedoro’s wife.
Taan. The scullery maid.
Isaar. Pedoro’s oldest son.
Ferdie Pedoro’s 2nd son
Sular Pedoro’s 3rd son
Gontala Pedoro’s youngest son.
Shenoa Pedoro’s only daughter.
Portega. Tyrant King to the west.
Portua. Portega’s grandson.
Jubail. Old Fisherman.
Mutas Magab’s younger brother and usurper.
Walezia King of Malta.
Alviar Megalomaniacal bishop of Carthage. (Hates Drustina.)
Ethelia Female healer who treats Drustina during her pregnancy.
Seripatese Drustina’s faithful horse.

The silence around the square was short lived. Twelve heavily armed Templar Knights encircled Drustina and the well to prevent any escape. The girl estimated her chances and decided this was the end; even with her back to the well there was no way she could avoid twelve swords at once.

She certainly wasn’t going to give the Bishop the pleasure of seeing her body burned at the stake so she raised her sword and prepared to die, bravely, on the point of a sword. The knights however were fearful of simply charging in for all had seen the speed and sharpness of Drustina’s weapons. For several minutes there was a stand-off until there was a commotion by the palace gates that faced onto the main square. A man’s voice bellowed urgently.

“Drustina!”

She recognised it as Torvel’s and screamed out to him without taking her eyes off the gathering Knights.

“Get help, the bastards are trying to kill me!”

Torvel quickly summed up the situation and bellowed over his shoulder to a platoon of Palace Guards to accompany him into the town square. They turned as one and galloped through the gates just as the first knight made a tentative stab at Drustina. Torvel roared with rage and doubled his efforts to finally arrive to curse the Templar Platoon who had closed a ring of steel facing both inwards and outwards to face both threats.

“Twelve men against a single maid!” Torvel snarled. “Is that your idea of a fight?”

The Knights were now pincered between the single maid and the rapidly deploying guards whose numbers were growing as word of the confrontation spread amongst the palace guard. There was a ringing clash of steel and Torvel realised the Templar thugs were hell bent on killing the girl. The bravest Knight, (if attacking a maid outnumbered twelve to one could be called brave) was exchanging strokes with Drustina even as the second assailant was closing in. Before Torvel and his reinforcements could penetrate the Templar circle, Drustina was fighting desperately with three of the superbly armoured knights. Even Drustina could see that her days were numbered if Torvel and his men could not reach her in time. She cast around in terror as she prepared to enter the realms of the Gods. For once her fear betrayed her and she felt a vicious slash just slice past her thigh. It drew blood and the Templar Knight crowed with premature expectation. He lunged forward to administer the final blow but the maid was still too quick. She leapt back and up onto the circular well wall and just managed to evade the thrust. Now she was dancing frantically on the well wall to avoid the sword slashes and thrusts. Occasionally she made a strike against the Knights but their heavy armour was easily able to deflect her weakening efforts. Sadly however, she could feel the sword cut beginning to tell and her wounded leg was beginning to betray her. The well was now encircled by four of the knights and she had nowhere else to go. Her arm was tiring and she heard the knights exchange chuckles of anticipated victory as they moved closer for the kill. Each of them hoping for the credit of the final killing of the blasphemous witch of Carthage. Finally she cried in despair.

“Torvel! I am done! There is nowhere to go!”

Then a voice called from amongst the guardsmen: “Jump girl! Jump down the well!”

Drustina glanced between her bleeding legs and contemplated the stygian blackness.

As she hesitated the voice repeated its call: “Jump girl. It’s deep water at the bottom and they cannot follow you, they are encumbered by their heavy plate and mail.”

Torvel took up the call: “Jump, Drustina. Jump!”

With a final despairing cry of “Noooo-dennnss” to her beloved Celtic sea god, Drustina stepped into the void and plunged into the depths. The Templar Knights cursed and rushed to look down the well. They saw nothing for the well was too dark and deep. Then they had to look to Torvel’s rage, not to mention the fury of the Palace Guards who now heavily outnumbered the twelve knights. The end was quick for several of the guards had pikes and they were angry with themselves for not having spotted the incident earlier. Within minutes twelve corpses lay scattered around the well as Torvel lurched up to the little stone circle and called down in faint hope: “Drustinaa!”...

Nothing.

“Drustinaaaa!!!”

Again ... nothing.

Torvel looked up at the guardsmen who were now gathering around him.

“Who told her to jump?”

“Me sir.” A grizzled old sergeant came forward. “Sergeant Carapha, sir.”

“Why?”

“She looked as though she was about to lose the sword play and these brutes obviously meant business.”

“Why, damn you? Whilst she was still alive she would still have had a chance - more guardsmen were arriving all the time. We might have got to her. We’ll never get to her now!”

“Uuhhm, I would beg to differ, sire.”

Torvel squinted at the old guardsman suspiciously: “What d’you mean?”

“May I speak privately, sire?”

Torvel paused thoughtfully then ushered the rest of the guardsmen away. They all stepped back out of earshot.

“Go on, explain yourself sergeant.”

The man peered down the well and nodded as he turned to Torvel.

“Ask all the guardsmen to stand well back and tell everybody to be absolutely silent.”

Torvel did so and an eerie silence settled on the square. Then the sergeant took hold of the bucket and asked Torvel to sit astride it.

“What for, man?”

“I would like to lower you about ten cubits below the lip of the well.”

The sergeant then beckoned to several of the stronger men and they slowly wound the rope out off the drum as Torvel descended to the suggested depth. Then the sergeant leaned over the well and whispered so nobody else could hear.

“What can you hear?”

“It’s water ... moving water, it sounds like a small waterfall.” Torvel whispered back.

The sergeant nodded then instructed the men to wind Torvel back. When the Celt emerged the Sergeant took him aside out of earshot.

“My father’s, father’s, father dug that well sire. He made a drawing of it and I have it still in my home. He handed it to my father’s father and my father handed it to me.”

“Go on,” Torvel pressed the old man.

“Under this town square my Captain, there is an underground stream running into a rocky cave then the stream runs away, nobody else knows where but one of my ancestors was an oyster and pearl diver long ago. He found the outlet and decided to trace it back as best he could. The town square hereabouts used to be our farm until the Romans destroyed Carthage and sowed our fields with salt. For hundreds of years our farm lay barren but we held onto the land and grew what little we could. To supplement our meagre income from the barren land we took to pearl fishing and harvesting shellfish. Finally we learned that there was water below our land, sweet fresh water. My great-great-grandfather started the well but it took long years for the well cuts through rock. My great-grandfather finished it for we could hear the water as we dug through the rock.

The water supplying the well runs as an underground stream under the city then it seeps out of the subterranean cave, through the rock via a fissure and emerges as a submarine spring far beyond the new harbour wall. The water level in the well stays always constantly about five cubits above the level of the sea outside. The pressure difference keeps the salt out and the subterranean stream always refreshes the well with clean fresh mountain water coming from high, high up in the mountains. My family was once of noble stock and we once owned all this land as far back as the high mountains. After hundreds of years of digging and searching we finally established where the watercourse ran. My great-great-grandfather dug the final well that we have here. We started using the well to flush the salt from our soil. It proved so successful that the king of that time appropriated it and built the new Carthage here around our well. You will have noticed the well is in the middle of the town square and that the well never runs dry. Furthermore, the water is always sparkling sweet and fresh. It’s the very soul of New Carthage.”

“That’s all very interesting sergeant; but of what interest is this to me?”

“Take another look, sire. See that the shaft gradually widens as the well deepens.”

Torvel squinted into the depths and slowly nodded as he got an inkling of what the old sergeant was driving at. The sergeant smiled and nodded.

“Yes sir. There have been two instances of past members of my family falling down the well and both survived without any harm except to their dignity. Because the well is cut through solid rock and widens as it sinks, fallers do not dash themselves against the sides of the well. One of those fallers was my great-great-uncle who helped great-grandfather finish digging the well and the other was my very own sister when she was young. That was only a couple of months before the old King’s grandfather, Magab’s great-grandfather, appropriated the well. We did not suffer unduly. We kept the land on that side of the square and we own most of those city blocks. My sister runs the family business for I have little time for figures, rents and so on. However, only I and my sister have the secret of the well. That’s our family ‘back-stop’.”

“Are you saying Drustina could be alive?”

“More than that, sire. I’m certain of it, if her wound has not overcome her. Come with me.”

Torvel ordered the guard to 'tidy up the square' and followed the old sergeant to a large house in the middle of the New city. At the door the sergeant called inside.

“Hello sister, it’s me Carapha.”

An old family retainer met them and he smiled appreciatively.

“Why sir, you’re home early.”

“Yes, and I bring one of our most illustrious commanders, Torvel the Celt. Where’s my sister?”

“In the counting room, sir.”

The old sergeant nodded and led Torvel deeper into the house into a well constructed strong-room where the sergeant introduced Torvel to his sister.

“Commander, I give you Argentis my sister.”

The old lady made to rise to her feet but Torvel begged her not to. She was grateful for the release and settled arthritically back into her chair as she turned questioningly to her brother.

“So brother Carapha, what business brings the Illustrious Torvel to our humble counting house?”

“There’s been an accident sister. The lady Drustina has fallen down the well.”

Argentis just smiled and grinned. “She’s a crazy one that one. How did it happen?”

“She had to escape the Bishop’s thugs; she was trapped at the well so I told her to jump down it.”

Argentis frowned and handed Carapha a large iron key. Torvel noted that Carapha’s sister did not seem unduly concerned, she didn’t even ask about the lady Drustina. Without more ado, Carapha pulled aside a small chest to reveal a stone slab slightly larger than the rest of the floor’s irregular paving but not noticeably so ... not enough to attract interest if the room was searched. He took a strong metal pole that rested innocuously by the door and carefully levered the stone slab clear without scratching it. This revealed a set of steps leading down to a heavy wooden door. The key unlocked the door and Torvel’s eyes widened with surprise as it revealed a shallow sloping passage containing a series of more steps leading deep down into the solid rock.

“Where does this go?”

Sergeant Carapha smiled and took a blanket and a fire-brand that Argentis had lit from the lamp on her table, then he beckoned Torvel down the steps. Torvel followed with another brand and was surprised to find the passage was quite roomy once past the cramped narrow portal. Obviously the steps led deep down into the rock. Argentis stepped back and locked the door to the counting chamber to prevent any unwanted intrusions. It was obvious that only she and Carapha knew of the passage. Argentis continued with her accounts to maintain the subterfuge as Torvel followed Carapha deep into the bed rock. Once they were several hundred cubits down the passage Carapha explained to Torvel.

“This passage leads right down to the subterranean grotto that forms the deep syphonic pool at the bottom of the well. My grandfather and his brother found the grotto when they were tracing the stream. They modified the whole grotto by building a dam to raise the water to the foot of the incoming fall. Then, having got sufficient height and depth of water, they built the stone trap to form the siphon and ensure there was always a deep pool of water trapped at the bottom of the well. Finally they bricked the sides of the well up to the roof of the grotto so there’s no way into the grotto from the bottom of the well unless you sink to the bottom of the siphon and get swept around the bend. If you descend the well by the bucket you just seem to hit a deep pool of water fed from below but it’s actually a swan-necked siphon. However, if you fall down the well, you gather enough momentum to travel around the bend and emerge in the grotto. My family have been digging wells for hundreds of years. You will notice the shaft of the well widens and the well opens out as you descend to make a wide and deep pool at the bottom. This prevents you dashing yourself to pieces as you tumble. When you hit the water, you sink with the force of your fall then the symphonic effect takes you past the ingress stream and you pop out like a turd from a horse’s arse where the outlet bubbles up into the lower open pool. If all has happened as great-great-grandfather and great-great-uncle planned then we should find Drustina cold and unhurt but nursing her pride at the side of the lower pool. The trouble is it’s pitch black so she’ll not have a clue what’s about her. She will probably also have a few nasty scratches, possibly even a broken arm or something but she shouldn’t be seriously hurt. She won’t have hit the sides as she fell and the pool is wide enough to deflect any misdirected entry into the water. She should be safe.”

Torvel wagged his head in amazement as they continued descending until they came to another, even stronger door that opened with a key that had been secreted on a ledge further up the passage. Torvel had been so busy watching his step that he failed to notice Carapha collect the key from its hiding place during their descent. The door creaked open and the pair stepped into a narrow cleft in the rock. Torvel had to squeeze past the tight restriction as Carapha explained.

“In pitch darkness, nobody would ever find this tiny cleft to look for a way out from the grotto. They would die here if we did not come to save them.”

“So the dead Templar captain’s body will be down here.” Torvel observed.

“And probably a few others, I’ve heard that a goodly number of bodies have been disposed of down the well but the siphon arrangement sucks the corpses out at the bottom and this keeps the well clear and keeps the water pure. The bodies pop out of the horse’s arse and are swept to the end of the grotto unless they are alive and pull themselves clear. There the bodies rot and it does not pollute the siphon trap at the bottom of the well. There, can you hear the rushing water now? That’s the stream at the top of the waterfall above the siphon feed pouring into the culvert”

Torvel nodded as his wide eyes reflected in the torchlight. Then they stepped along a flat edge to the culvert before it disappeared into the siphon trap. Carapha led Torvel around the structure and suddenly he heard a plaintive nervous cry. It was Drustina! She had seen the glow from their fire-brand torches.

“Who ... who - who’s there?”

“It’s me Drustina ... Torvel.”

“Oh thank God. I am dying of cold! I can’t move, I can’t see a thing, I ... ah! There you are. I’ve just seen the flicker of your flame.”

Torvel rushed past Carapha and flung his arms around his beloved comrade. She blinked and shivered until Carapha wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

“Thank you comrade, who are you?” Drustina asked.

“I’m the one who told you to jump down the well.”

There was a pause as Drustina’s sharp brain made sense of Carapha’s statement.

“Then you ... you must have known of this — this arrangement, this water trap.”

“Indeed I do my lady. Only my beloved sister, and now you two know of this secret. Now let us get you back to somewhere warm.”

“Th — thank you. I perish with the cold! I’ve lost my sword.”

Carapha stepped back towards the side of the grotto, reached behind a crevice in the rock and produced a long pole with a hook.

After fishing about under the neck of the siphon he gave a murmur of satisfaction and hauled Drustina’s beloved weapon out of the freezing water.

“There my lady, all safe and sound. Now I believe your dagger should be around here somewhere, perhaps further down the stream where that bully’s body should have ended up.”

With a knowledge and certainty born of his long held secret, Carapha picked his way along the out-flowing stream bank until he found what he was looking for, the narrow exit fissure where the captain’s body had jammed between the rocks. Drustina’s trusty dagger was still embedded in his eye and brain so he also returned this to the grateful heroine.
The girl wept with gratitude and hugged Sergeant Carapha tightly to her breasts.

Finally they returned to the counting room where Drustina gaped at Argentis as she casually helped her brother Carapha and Torvel replace the slab and drag the heavy wooden chest back into its normal position. Drustina turned to her companion Torvel and smiled.

“This is an amazing feature; they have a secret grotto deep under the town square.”

Torvel nodded while Carapha smiled then his face turned serious.

“And it must remain a secret my lady. You know now that you are in great danger. Even the King’s writ does not run where this madman Bishop Alviar preaches his canon law. You would do best to lie low here for a few weeks and pretend death.”

“Oh most certainly I agree with you Carapha. I am undone. I cannot even go abroad at midday in the middle of the main town square.”

“So what are you to do, darling?” Torvel asked Drustina.

“Well for now I will accept Carapha’s invitation. Will you convey the terrible news to my sister that her devil-may-care sibling has taken her last crazy risk?”

“What! Tell her you’re dead! That will devastate her!”

“It is only for a few weeks while we work out a stratagem. Ask her to take my babies and place them with some wet nurses. Magab found some for them when they were born but I surprised the King by choosing to feed them myself. Now I won’t be there they’ll have to resort to the wet nurses.”

Torvel nodded and the Sergeant smiled. His sister Argentis would enjoy a bit of female company around the house for when the servants went home and Carapha was on guard duty, the house was empty and Argentis rattled around in it now the children were grown and gone. To have a secret guest would give Argentis some excitement for she was tired of imposing on her friends every time she felt lonely.

With arrangements completed, Torvel took the ‘news’ of Drustina’s death to Aiofe.