Princes of Ireland - Edward Rutherfurd [224]
When Peter had reached the hospital the first evening, he had passed through the gateway and then sunk down with his back to the fence. Nobody could see him. The inmates were all inside at this hour. He unwrapped the shawl from his head and waited. The darkness fell slowly. At this time in the summer, there would be only about three hours of real darkness. The sky was full of passing clouds but there was a sliver of moon. That was good. He needed a little light but not too much. He waited until well after midnight before he made his move.
Outside the hospital ran the broad track of the ancient road, the Slige Mhor that led towards the west. There was a large contingent of men less than a mile along the road, blockading it. He intended to avoid the Slige Mhor entirely. He knew that on the river side of the hospital enclosure there was a small gate. Stealing round to this, he went out. In front of him lay open ground, dotted with bushes, leading to the marshy banks of the river. With luck, in the darkness, he might be able to slip through there.
It took him an hour, working his way carefully, moving only when clouds covered the moon, to get past the Irish camp that straddled the road. After that he was able to move more quickly, but always with caution, following the line of the river until he came opposite the place where he guessed the High King’s encampment might be. Then, finding concealment in some bushes on a slope which made a little vantage point, he prepared to wait the rest of the night.
It turned out that he had been nearly right. The next morning he could see the High King’s camp, only about half a mile farther upstream. Early in the morning he saw the patrols go out. A few hours later they returned. And soon afterwards, he saw at least a hundred men come down into the water. They remained there quite a long time. They seemed to be throwing a ball between them in some sort of game. Then they all went up the bank again. He could see the sun glinting on their wet and naked bodies.
He spent the rest of the morning in his place of concealment. He had brought half a loaf of precious bread with him and a small leather flask of water. He also took good care to note the terrain around. That would be essential if he was to carry out the rest of his plan. In the early afternoon he realised that there was one more thing he would have to do that day, which was dangerous. An hour later he left his hiding place and very cautiously worked his way across some meadows to a patch of wooded higher ground. He did not return to his hiding place until evening; but by the time he did so, he was satisfied that his plan could work. Not until it was dark did he make his way back to the hospital again. It was strange waiting at the hospital gate because he knew that Fionnuala was working there that night, only yards away from him; but he remained there until dawn and then, wrapped in his shawl, returning past the Irish forward post at dawn where he was taken for Fionnuala by the sentries. By midmorning he had seen Strongbow.
He told Strongbow everything, how he had gone out scouting and discovered the High King bathing, with one small difference: he omitted all reference to Fionnuala. If Strongbow guessed the truth, he said nothing. When he had finished, Strongbow was thoughtful. “To get the best advantage from this information,” the magnate said, “we need to catch them when they’re bathing and their