gate …’
‘We know the spot,’ intervened Eadulf.
‘We were halfway across the field when there was a whistle in the air and the next thing I felt this pain in my shoulder.‘He raised a hand and touched his wound. ‘I fell forwards. Bardán later said that he saw the archer, my brother’s companion, standing at the edge of the yew-trees and fitting another arrow to his bowstring. Bardán grabbed me and began to half drag and half propel me to the gate. We just made it when the man’s second shot caught me in the leg.’
‘Did no one in the abbey observe this?’
Mochta shook his head. ‘You have seen that area. It is not overlooked by any window nor is it a frequented area. Bardán helped me inside, shot home the bolts, and then helped me to my chamber. Beingthe apothecary, he was able to remove the arrows, which, thank God, had not penetrated deeply, and dress the wounds.
‘It was then we discussed what best we should do. It had become clear that my brother and his friend were part of some conspiracy to discredit Muman as well as Imleach. But why? For what purpose, I do not know. What was of more immediate concern to me was the threat to attack and steal the Relics. I was afraid many of the brethren would be killed in such an event.
‘We spent some time talking about this and then we decided that I should disappear with the remaining Holy Relics. Bardán would ensure that on the following day the news that the Relics and I had disappeared was spread. We hoped, by this method, that we would deflect any attack or attempt to steal them from the abbey and the community would therefore be saved from harm.
‘No one had seen me come back injured to the abbey. Having had my wounds bound I would go to Vespers and be seen. Then I would return to my chamber. That was an uncomfortable experience for while my wounds were bound, they were painful. I was in considerable distress. However, once the service was over, I returned to my chamber.
‘We arranged for Bardan to take the reliquary box from the chapel and bring it to me. We carefully arranged my room, so that it appeared that I had been carried off against my will. Then we took a few items. I had placed one of the arrows with which I had been shot where it could be seen, hoping to provide a clue to my assailant.’
‘We saw it,’ observed Eadulf.
‘Then Bardán conducted me to this spot. Being a local man, the cave was known to him and is infrequently used. He thought I could hide here until Baoill and his friends came into the open. The day afterwards, you arrived at the abbey with news that my brother and his companion had been killed trying to assassinate Colgú and the Prince of the Uí Fidgente. Bardán said it was not so simple as it appeared for whoever was behind this plot was not revealed. This meant that we had to consider our next step; to decide who was safe to trust.’
Fidelma gave a long drawn-out sigh. ‘I wish you had trusted me before this.’
‘It would have made little difference in diverting the attack on the abbey,’ pointed out Brother Mochta.
‘Who do you say the attackers were? Warriors from this King of Ailech, supporting Armagh’s plan to exert its control here?’ pressed Eadulf.
‘No, I think they were Uí Fidgente,’ replied Brother Mochta. ‘Therewere stories early this year that the Uí Fidgente were seeking some alliance with the Uí Néill kings of the north against Cashel. They have not forgiven Colgú for their defeat at Cnoc Aine and the death of their king. They would join with the Uí Néill and Armagh to see Cashel weakened and defeated. How better to defeat the kingdom than to divide it?’
‘You may well be right, Mochta,’greed Fidelma. She paused as if a thought struck her. ‘You are a close friend of Bardan, of course?’
‘Yes. Of course.’
‘Being a good penman, you helped Bardan in preparing a book on the properties of herbs?’
Brother Mochta was surprised. ‘How did you know that?’ he demanded.
‘It’s of no consequence. Don’t you think it curious that Bardan has not put in an appearance and-’ she glanced through the mouth of the cave towards the sky — ‘it must be about midday?’
Brother Mochta frowned. ‘It is a worry,’ he confessed. ‘He was going to see Finguine this morning to tell him our story. That is all I know.’
Fidelma stood up and went to the mouth of the cave. She negotiated some boxes and stared down the hillside. At the foot of the hill, woodland stretched as far as the banks of the River Ara. Fidelma turned back with decision.
‘Mochta, you are an important witness for Cashel. We must get you there immediately for you will be better protected by my brother’s warriors. You and the reliquary.’
‘What about Bardan?’ protested Mochta.
‘We will see to him later. Right now, do you think you can ride?’
‘Not all the way to Cashel,’ he protested.
‘Then we will take it in easy stages,’ she assured him. ‘The worst part of the journey is for you to leave this cave with Brother Eadulf here and walk it down the hill towards that wood there.’ She turned to Eadulf. ‘Let no one see you until I come along with the horses.’
Eadulf was bemused. ‘Where are you getting horses from?’
‘I will pick up our horses from the abbey.’ She pointed to a lamp by Mochta’s palliasse. ‘If you will lend me that lamp, I will go back through the tunnels and come back as quickly as I can by the track around the bottom of the hill. Do not bring anything other than the reliquary, Mochta. You may also trust Brother Eadulf here with your life. In fact, that is what it amounts to. Understand this clearly, Mochta, every minute you now stay here, in this cave, you are in the most deadly danger.’
Chapter Nineteen
Fidelma entered the side gate into the herb garden. Obviously, Brother Bardán had still not returned this way; the bolts were withdrawn as earlier. She made her way immediately to Abbot Ségdae’s chamber and knocked cautiously upon the door. The elderly, hawk-like abbot was seated in his high-backed, carved wooden chair before his fire, his chin resting on his hands, his eyes staring meditatively into the flames. He looked up as she entered with an expression of some hope.
‘What news, Fidelma?’ he asked.
Fidelma did not like telling lies to the man whom she had known all her life and who was more like an uncle to her than merely a religious adviser.
‘Little enough,’ she said cautiously.
The abbot’s face fell.
‘However,’ she went on, ‘I believe that I will be able to supply all the answers to these matters when the Brehons meet at Cashel in a few days from now.’
Ségdae’s face resumed a hopeful look. ‘You mean that you can discover the whereabouts of the Holy Relics of Ailbe?’
‘That I can guarantee,’ she said briskly. ‘But I want no one else to know. Say nothing to anyone, not even Brother Madagan.’
The abbot was reluctant to make such a promise.
‘It is a matter affecting the morale of the abbey, Fidelma. Surely I can give the community something to hope for?’
Fidelma shook her head. ‘There are many dark forces at work here which may mean the downfall of this kingdom. I need your solemn word on this, Ségdae.’
‘Then, of course, you shall have it.’
‘Brother Eadulf and I are returning to Cashel immediately for there is no more that I can do here. However, I would like you to start your own journey to Cashel tomorrow.’
