27th December 1102

Lochan reached the bottom of the ladder and peered down into the gloom. The ship creaked miserably, ice wedging apart the warped boards where the tar had worn away. The hull was dark, lit by a single forlorn candle, flickering weakly in the chill air.

Behind the bars Harndall was hunched over in the chair, his head resting heavily in one hand while the other wrapped protectively around his trembling body.

He did not seem to have noticed Lochan’s silent approach and the Duke hovered awkwardly behind the bars.

He coughed nervously and Harndall’s head twitched up.

“Good evening Father,” he murmured his voice catching in his dry throat. He swallowed loudly as the priest came shuffling towards him.

“Good evening Your Lordship,” the priest replied softly.

“I think you know why I am here,” Lochan began in a quietly controlled voice.

“I didn’t do it Your Lordship,” Harndall countered immediately, the expression on his grief-stricken face cracking and bending like the salt stained boards.

“I would like to believe that Father, but there are some things which need to be explained,” he cleared his throat, continuing, “For instance did you, in fact spend an hour alone with the Countess during the month of April after both you and she were injured?”

“Lochan I was praying! I was only praying. What sort of beast do you take me for? She was ill, I would never have touched her!”

“That was not what I asked Father, and I would prefer it if you called me by my title.”

“I’m sorry Your Lordship,” Harndall replied head bowed, colour rising in his gaunt face, “Yes, I was in the room with her for an hour.”

“And during that time you did not touch her?”

“No, of course not” the priest cried recoiling back from the bars.

“You didn’t touch her at all?”

Harndall crept forward again, “I might have held her hand… I… I don’t remember.”

“Is it possible there are other things you don’t remember Father?” Lochan asked, his tone growing harsh.

He would have liked to believe the Father. He was inclined to trust the man who had fought at his side wielding the power of prayer in perfect symmetry with the sword clutched in his strong fingers. This was the man who had spent long nights crammed into his study as they desperately tried to understand the unnatural problem that pursued them. But the evidence was unsettling, the illicit visit nine months ago, the startling resemblance of the baby, the kiss beneath the mistletoe, the rumours of an unnaturally close relationship between the Countess and her priest.

“Harndall, did you ever at any other time lay a hand on the Countess?”

“No, I don’t think so,” the Priest replied, his slender fingers reaching out to cling to the bars as though the weight of the accusation were too much for his frail body to bear.

“No,” he whispered, but Lochan could not fail to notice the shame glowing bright behind his eyes.

“I know it is difficult to talk about, but the night when you were attacked by the creature, you were found in each others arms. Can you tell me the reason for that?”

“Dear Lord, I was suffering from extreme blood loss Your Lordship, I cannot remember much from that night at all and what memories I have are fuzzy to say the least.”

“But you do have some memories…” Lochan felt bad for pressing the man but he would not be happy until he knew the reason for the guilt that was creasing the Priest’s weary face.

“I… I remember that her body was cold against mine. But her hair smelled warm and it was so soft…”.

“I think you are lying to me Father. That wasn’t all. I saw you kiss the Countess under the mistletoe last Christmas and you have failed to include that in your account. And I do not think it was an insignificant kiss. I will ask you again. Has there been another time that you have laid a hand on the Countess?”

“Your Lordship,” Harndall’s voice was strangled, “Yes, there has.”

“Would you care to elaborate for me.”

The Priest’s face was growing hot with shame, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It was the night of the attack. She came to me to tell me the news of the birth of Lady Hwratar’s twins. She touched my face and her hand… oh her hand was so very cold. I took them between my own, I think I thought to warm them but it was so difficult to let go.”

The words were rushing out of Harndall’s mouth, and Lochan understood he was hearing the confession of a man alone in hearing the sins of others but unable to divulge his. It must have been a heavy burden to bear. He felt pity for the man but at the same time his heart lay sick and heavy in his chest waiting for the inevitable admission that would seal his friend’s fate.

“And there were times… times when she put her arms around me or placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and God help me how I wanted to hold her in my arms and never let go.”

His eyes closed, his face drooping with exhaustion. Then suddenly his head snapped up and the gaze that met Lochan’s was full of determination and resolve.

“I love her Your Lordship. I love her.”

The Priest’s eyes were earnest as the words poured from his mouth. He repeated it softly as though he liked the sound they made, the gentle vowel in the middle, the purr at the end.

“Then Father, how could you take advantage of her like that?”

“Your Lordship,” the priest cried, his face warping in dismay, “I never did. I would never hurt her. I never did anything but hold her dear, dear hands.”

“Are you sure you aren’t forgetting something?”

“Could I be Your Lordship, you tell me. Can a man forget something like that? I cannot imagine having never knowingly experienced it. If so then perhaps it was I, but I went into that room fully in control of all my senses and I promise you that all I did was kneel by her beside and pray for her full recovery. I do not know who did this to her and the thought sickens me, but it was not I. I cannot believe I would simply forget something like that.”

“No I suppose not. I am inclined to believe you Father, but it will be difficult to convince the others. Are you sure you have told me all. It will be worse for you if I find out you have hidden something more.”

“No Your Lordship that is all. All I have done is to love her with all my heart. though it be a sin against the power invested by me by the Good Lord. I have sinned against the people. For that I am truly sorry.”

Lochan leaned towards the bars, “I will fight for you Harndall. But be warned, at the very least they are likely to strip you of your status at the worst… well don’t think of this now. I will do my utmost best to help you.”

“Thank you Your Lordship. Do not fear for me. If the Lord is testing me then it only so I can become stronger.”

The Priest’s face was serene as he gazed at Lochan from between the iron bars that framed his drained face.

“Thank you for taking my confession. It has been a long time since anyone listened but the Lord,” he murmured a small smile on his lips.

“If we are done perhaps you would excuse me. I would like to pray for a while.”

“We are done.”

Father Harndall turned from him sinking to his knees with relief, his hands clasped reverently before him, his lips moving in silent song.

Lochan was filled with dread that prayer would not serve to alleviate. There were many baying for the Priest’s blood and he was only one man with a sword.

Murchadh, The Church