The Subtle Serpent

She felt hungry. With annoyance she realised that she had now missed the midday meal.

She went out into the candle-lit passage and made her way along to the main room, hoping that no one had noticed her absence. To her surprise she saw a cloth covering some familiar objects on the table and, raising it, saw some food had been placed there.

Sister Brónach!

There was no hiding anything from the doirseór of the abbey, Fidelma reflected. That made her uneasy. Sister Brónach knew that she had been out all the previous night; knew, then, that she had lain in an exhausted sleep most of the daylight hours to recuperate. If Sister Brónach was an innocent party to the planned uprising against Cashel, if she was loyal to Cashel, then there was no cause for alarm. But Fidelma was unsure if anyone in this land of the Beara couldbe wholly trusted. After all, everyone would nominally support their chieftain Gulban.

She sat down and relieved her hunger from the dishes that Sister Brónach had left. Then, feeling better for her rest and food, she left the guests’ hostel just as she heard the gong sounding the hour followed by the bell summoning the community to the evening prayers. It had not taken long for the abbey to get the clepsydra back in proper order, she reflected. That was probably due to Sister Brónach. It would now surely take a brave spirit to stand watch during the night hours in the tower after the death of Sister Síomha.

Fidelma pressed back into the shadows as groups of sisters and one or two isolated figures moved rapidly towards the duirthech, in answer to the summons of the bell. She made the movement to conceal herself automatically and it was only after a moment or so that the idea struck her. She would use this time to sneak away to the Gaulish ship and seek Eadulf assistance. She was already forming an idea in her mind as to the next step in the investigation.

She waited until she heard the voices of the community raised together in the ‘Confiteor’, the name by which the general confession which usually preceded the evening prayers was known. It came from the first word of the confession. Then Fidelma moved through the abbey buildings down to the quay.

She could see two lanterns twinkling out in the inlet on the Gaulish ship. It was fairly dark but Fidelma was not perturbed. She found the small rowing boat and clambered in, untying the mooring rope and pushing off from the side of the wooden quay. It took a moment to unship the oars and ease herself into a steady stroke towards the ship.

The evening was soundless and the darkness made deeper by a low covering of clouds. Not even the noise of nocturnal birds or the splash of some aquatic creature came to her ears.Only the slap of the oars and rippling water as she propelled the boat across the still waters broke the silence.

‘Hóigh!’

She recognised Odar’s hail as she neared the ship.

‘It’s me! Fidelma!’ she called back, swinging the boat alongside.

Willing hands reached down to help her up and secure her boat.

Odar and Eadulf were on the deck to greet her.

‘We were worried about you,’ Eadulf said gruffly. ‘We have had a visitor this afternoon.’

‘Olcán?’ Fidelma was interested.

Odar gave an affirmative gesture. ‘How did you know?’ he asked.

‘He also came to the abbey asking questions. I think he knows that Eadulf and Comnat have escaped. He was particularly interested to know where Ross had gone.’

‘I distrusted him straight away,’ Odar confirmed. ‘We hid Brother Eadulf below when he was aboard.’

‘Did he suspect anything?’

‘No,’ replied Odar. ‘I told him that Ross had gone to do some trading along the coast. He pretended that he was checking about Ross’s right to claim this vessel as salvage.’

‘Excellent,’ Fidelma said approvingly. ‘That fits in with what I told him. I think our conspirators are definitely worried that Eadulf or Comnat may raise an alarm before their plan is ready.’

Odar led the way to the captain’s cabin with Eadulf bringing up the rear.

‘In which case, is it hot wise to leave here at once?’ asked Odar.

Fidelma gave a negative shake of her head.

‘I still have my duty to perform at the abbey. And I think that I am near solving this mystery.’

‘But surely we know who is responsible for the murder of Almu?’ broke in Eadulf. ‘Odar here has been telling me of theevents at the abbey and it seems logical that Almu was killed by the young man at the copper mines who helped her escape. That he was able to do so and then stop any search parties indicates that he was someone of rank, perhaps a chieftain. It sounds as if it is Olcán who is the culprit.’

‘Did you see and recognise Olcán, then?’

‘No,’ admitted Eadulf. ‘But it does seem to fit.’

Fidelma grinned impishly at Eadulf.

‘You have been busy,’ she said in amusement. ‘The one problem with your theory, Eadulf, is that there is no motive. Why allow Almu to escape and then kill her? For every action there is a motive, even if the motive is madness. Olcán does not seem insane to me. Also how would you account for Sister Síomha’s death?’

Eadulf shrugged.

‘I confess that I had not worked that one out yet.’

Fidelma smiled briefly.

‘Then perhaps I will be able to enlighten you, Eadulf. In the morning I shall need your help. There is a place of mystery under the abbey which I need to enter and I cannot do that alone. You know my methods. You have worked with me before. Your help will be invaluable.’

Eadulf studied Fidelma inquisitively. He knew her expression. It was clear that he would not get any further information out of her until she was ready. He sighed. ‘Wouldn’t it be better to wait for the return of Ross before we embark on this matter?’

‘The longer we leave it, the easier it will be for those responsible for the deaths of Almu and Síomha to make their escape. No, before dawn tomorrow, I want you to meet me under the abbey tower. And be careful. Come before it gets light because there is always a sister in the tower who watches the water-clock there.’

‘Why not do this tonight?’

‘Because I am wary of the doirseór, Sister Brónach. Sheknows that I was out all last night and I think she is suspicious of me and watching carefully.’

‘You believe that she is involved?’

‘Perhaps. Though involved in what, I am not sure yet. Involved in the conspiracy for insurrection? Or involved in the murders? I do not know.’

‘You seem sure that the two things are separate issues,’ observed Eadulf.

‘I am now certain of it. I hope tomorrow that we will know the truth.’

It was still dark when Fidelma rose, bathed her face and hurriedly dressed, throwing on a heavy cloak to warm her against the chill. Outside, across the abbey buildings and courtyard, it was white and Fidelma thought another snow had fallen. It was, however, a frost as she realised from the sparkling glint of the covering. She could also see that high on the mountains snow had certainly fallen and it reflected in the pre-dawn creating a twilight landscape. She paused to examine the sky from the window to estimate the time by the fading stars for the snow clouds had already vanished. Her attention was caught by a couple of dark moving specks on the mountain. Squinting, in order to focus better, she could see that they were two riders and horses, ploughing through the snow at a dangerous pace. So fast and so dangerously did the two horsemen press their steeds that Fidelma found herself fascinated for a moment or two. She noted they were on the road to Adnár’s fortress and wondered what took the early morning visitors there with such urgency.

She turned to the task in hand and left the guests’ hostel as quietly as she could, setting off across the white crisp carpet of frost which lay like slippery ice on the courtyard. The crunch of frost beneath her feet seemed loud as she hurried towards the tower. Eadulf was not waiting for her in its shadows and she halted.

Almost immediately her ears caught the sound of wood striking water and a moment later the tall figure of Brother Eadulf scrambled up towards her. He, too, was wrapped in a heavy cloak.

‘It’s cold enough, Fidelma,’ he greeted.