which a sackcloth hung. A faint glow of a lantern seemed to be flickering behind it. She moved up to the window and listened carefully. She could hear no sound at first. Then there came a strange, scratching noise, like metal on metal. Raising herself on tiptoe, she tugged gently at the sackcloth and peered cautiously in.
The cabin seemed divided into two rooms. The window gave entrance to one of these rooms. It was bare, except for a lamp hung from the rafters giving out a faint light. There were several poles supporting the roof. A figure sat at the foot of one of these poles. It was a male, clad in brown robes, sitting with his body bent towards his feet. He appeared to be working away at something. Fidelma breathed sharply. The figure wore the tonsure of Peter of Rome. She peered around, ensuring that there was no one else in the room. The window was impossible to get through as wooden bars prevented ingress. She went to the door and found a heavy bar locking it from the outside. Fidelma looked swiftly around and, ensuring no one was in sight, she heaved at the bar, managing to slide it from its iron mountings so that she could pull the door open.
She moved hurriedly inside and closed the door behind her. For a moment she stood with her back to it and gazed into the room.
The figure on the floor had stopped his attentions to his feet and was slumped against the pole as if in an attitude of repose. Eyes fast shut.
Fidelma took a step forward and smiled with satisfaction.
‘It is no time to be sleeping, Brother Eadulf,’ she whispered.
It was as if a cold stream of water had suddenly hit the figure. He jerked his head upwards, his body going tense andstiff. His mouth hung open as he gazed at the shadowy figure above him.
She took another step forward and the meagre light from the lamp fell across her face.
‘My God! Can be it you?’ came the incredulous voice of the Saxon monk.
Impulsively, Fidelma bent forward, stretching forth both hands and grasped those that Eadulf held out to her. His hands were free but she noticed that he was shackled by one ankle to the wooden pole against which he was squatting. He looked dirty and careworn and appeared as if he had not eaten or slept for a week. The Saxon monk apparently could not believe his eyes and hung on to her hands fiercely as though afraid that she was a vision which would abruptly vanish.
‘Fidelma!’
For several moments neither of them were able to speak. Then it was Fidelma who finally broke the silence.
‘Of all people, Eadulf,’ Fidelma said, forcing a tone of rebuke, though there was a slight catch to her voice. ‘Brother Eadulf, you are the last person I have been expecting to see in this land of mine.’
‘If the truth be known,’ replied Eadulf, the corners of his mouth twitching in a dry grimace, ‘if the truth be known, I will admit that I never hoped to see anyone I knew ever again. But how have you come here? You are surely not a friend of these people …?’
‘There is much to explain,’ Fidelma replied with a shake of her head. ‘But we must hurry and get you away from this place before we are discovered. How are you bound?’
Eadulf bit back the hundred and one questions that were obviously flooding into his mind and gestured to the iron manacle on his ankle.
‘I have been trying to work it loose but I do not have the right tool.’
Fidelma examined the lock, frowning slightly in concentration. It was a simple mechanism but needed somethinglong and thin to prise it open. She reached into her crumena and drew out the knife she carried and attempted to insert the point into the opening of the padlock. It was too broad.
Eadulf watched her glumly as she peered around the room obviously searching for a long piece of metal to prise the lock open.
‘There is nothing within my reach. I have looked.’
She did not reply but rose and examined the lantern which was hanging on the wooden pole. She reached forward, removing it and examining the iron nail on which it had been hooked. Then she put down the lamp and using her knife began to dig at the nail. It took a few moments to remove sufficient wood around it to start to loosen it and a few moments more to wiggle it up and down so that she could extract it with ease. Then she returned to her task.
‘I still do not understand how you came here, Fidelma,’ Eadulf said as he watched her twist the nail in the lock.
‘It will take some time to explain. More important than that is the question of how you came here.’
‘I was a passenger on a Gaulish merchant ship. The captain put into this port to trade and suddenly we were all captured.’
‘Where are the rest of the captives?’
‘Mostly held in the mines to work. There are some copper mines here …’
‘I know. Ah! That’s it.’
There was a click of the mechanism as it turned. She unloosened the fetter from his ankle.
Eadulf began to massage his bruised flesh.
‘Well, I shan’t be sorry to desert these people’s hospitality,’ he muttered. Then he glanced awkwardly to the shut door which separated this part of the cabin from the second room. ‘However …’
‘What is it?’ Fidelma demanded impatiently, she was already moving for the outer door. ‘We should leave now. Our luck can’t hold forever.’
‘There is an elderly religieuse imprisoned in the next room. She has been here for several weeks now. I would not like to leave her. Can we take her with us?’
Fidelma did not hesitate.
‘Is she alone?’
Eadulf nodded.
Fidelma took the lamp and moved cautiously to the next room and opened the door.
An elderly, white-haired woman lay on a straw palliasse in a corner. She was asleep. Like Eadulf, one ankle was gripped in an iron manacle which was fastened by a chain to the wall.
Fidelma bent beside her and shook her gently
The elderly religieuse came awake, eyes wide in fear. She opened her mouth but Fidelma placed a finger to her lips and smiled reassuringly.
‘I’m here to help you. I presume that you are Sister Comnat?’
The woman stared in astonishment and then gave an affirmative gesture.
Fidelma took the nail and bent to the lock.
‘This should not take a moment.’
Sister Comnat looked from her to Eadulf who was standing in the doorway, stretching and massaging his leg to restore the circulation.
‘Thank God!’ whispered the elderly sister. ‘Then Sister Almu managed to get through safely?’
Fidelma compressed her lips for a moment and then gave a quick shake of her head.
‘We will talk about this later.’
The lock on Sister Comnat’s fetters was not so difficult as that on Eadulf’s manacle or else Fidelma had become more learned at the art of the manipulation of the mechanism. There was a click and the fetters came undone.
‘What now?’ demanded Eadulf. ‘There are many warriors in this place.’
Fidelma helped to raise the frail religieuse to her feet.
‘I have some friends with horses close by. Come.’
She took the weight of Sister Comnat, who was swaying a little with weakness, and led her to the door of the cabin.
‘Take a look outside and see if it is clear,’ she instructed Eadulf.
The tall monk nodded briefly and eased open the door. A moment later he turned with a grim look of satisfaction.
‘No sign of anyone.’
‘Then we shall go. Move around the side of the cabin and into the cover of the woods behind. Be careful, for there is at least one dog about this place.’
They moved out of the cabin and Fidelma motioned Eadulf to close the door and thrust home the wooden
