Monks deep in shit

Monks have a headache though…..
Days 127 (19th June – very late)
Hamish wakes up with a splitting headache, last thing he remembers is being on the roof of the Inn….. From the feeling you have at the back of your head, you were the recipient of an enhanced sleep spell.
He is very securely bound, gagged and with a hood over his head. From the feel of it, inside a wooden crate inside a wagon that is slowly moving. The stench is incredible and it is difficult not to gag, it would seem that Dougal is also in the crate with you, but has not regained consciousness yet.
After some time, you aren’t sure how long – the wagon comes to a halt and you can hear voices. Fragments of conversation you pick up are:
Voice 1: “…were paid to provide..(mumble)…so what is the problem?”
Voice 2: “…will not hand over one of our own…(mumble)…”
Voice 1: “…(mumble)… your way, we cannot… (mumble)… sweep.”
Voice 2: “…(mumble)…not our problem, you have safe… (mumble)…”
Voice 1: “Agreed, how do we know that… (mumble)….”
Voice 2: “…won’t be found…. (mumble)… ends here. Take him and….”
With that there is the sound of the lid being taken off the crate, Hamish quickly decides that playing possum is a good idea. Hands reach in and pick up Dougal…..
A few minutes pass, then…..
Voice 2: “Hold still, I can tell you are awake even if those idiots couldn’t. They will have gone to ground with your friend somewhere near here I would guess…. Good luck.”
And Hamish feels the ropes binding his hands being cut and hears a knife being dropped into the crate.
If takes you a few minutes to free yourself properly, and in the dim moonlight you realise you are down at the dockside in a night soil cart. No-one else is around although another cart is approaching down one of the streets. Moored at the dockside is a large barge, which is obviously the planned receptacle for the wagons contents.
You stink, ache and are still feeling somewhat woozy…..