‘Strange, in what way?’ encouraged Fidelma when he paused.
‘There came the sound of horses, obviously coming up to where Samradan and his men were halted. I heard Samradan being greeted by name by someone who was obviously the leader of the horsemen. I did not recognise the voice. I can tell you that it was not a man of Muman who spoke. It was tinged with northern accents.
‘Well, after the exchange of greetings I heard someone fiddling with the tarpaulin. I lay back with my eyes closed. A hand shook me and I continued to breathe deeply and not respond. A voice said: “He’s stillunconscious. We can speak freely.” Then the tarpaulin was replaced and I could still hear their voices.’
‘What was said?’
‘Samradán started to bemoan that the attack had destroyed the smith’s forge and he would have to find a new means of reducing the ore to silver. I have no idea what he meant. The man to whom he was speaking simply chuckled. He said that it could not be helped. Samradán’s illegal activities were no concern of his nor of the Comarb. Samradán protested and said that the
Fidelma leant forward eagerly. ‘Both men referred to the
‘Yes. The man said that whatever Samradán was doing, it was no concern of his. He had his orders. He was answerable only to the power of the Comarb … At that moment they moved on out of the range of my hearing.’
Fidelma gave a repressed groan of annoyance. ‘And you are certain that the title of Comarb was mentioned?’ she persisted.
Brother Bardan was not offended by her question but said quietly: ‘Do you think that I do not know the significance of that title? There are only two Comarb in all the five kingdoms — the Comarb of Ailbe and the Comarb of Patrick.’
Eadulf whistled softly as he suddenly understood why Fidelma was so tense.
‘What happened then?’ Fidelma said, after a moment. ‘Did you hear more?’
‘After a while, I heard the riders leaving. A short time passed and the tarpaulin was flung aside. It was Samradán and I had no time to feign unconsciousness again. Samradán took off the gag and threatened to replace it if I said anything. He then gave me drink and some food and replaced the gag immediately afterwards. Doubtless, he thought I had only just recovered and had not heard the meeting with the horsemen. He replaced the tarpaulin. Time passed and off we went again.
‘It was a terrible journey. I sensed rather than felt it was nightfall. Everything was dark. The wagons stopped. I dozed fitfully. There was no movement at all. Now and then I awoke and thought that I heard voices. There was some movement and at one point, I thought I heard your voice, Sister Fidelma.’
Fidelma grimaced bitterly. ‘You did. You were stopped in an inn at the Well of Ara and spent the night until dawn. Then Samradan and his wagons came on here. I must have been within a few feet of you last night.’
Brother Bardan regarded her with curiosity.
‘What has happened?’ he demanded. ‘How did you find me?’
‘Continue with your story first,’ Fidelma urged.
‘Well, you were right. When the wagons finally halted, they were within a large store house. I was taken out and placed here, in this cellar-like room and here I have stayed in the dark until you discovered me.’
Fidelma sat back, her mind working rapidly. ‘Well, the first thing to do is to get you out of here Brother Bardan and to a place of safety.’
‘What danger am I in, Sister?’
‘I think you are in considerable danger. Had Samradan mentioned your presence to the raiders, when he spoke to them, you would already be dead. Fortunately, as much as the raiders thought that Samradán’s s illegal mining was none of their business, Samradan thought the same. He thought that you had merely stumbled on his illegal mining activity. As it is, you are witness to a conspiracy which places you in the gravest of danger. We shall take you to a friend and you must stay there until tomorrow evening.’
‘Why tomorrow evening?’
‘Because then we will come for you and smuggle you into the palace at Cashel. I do not want anyone to know of your existence here.’
‘Samradán will know when he finds me missing.’
‘A good point,’ Eadulf muttered.
‘I have not overlooked it. Once Brother Bardan is lodged safely, we will go and have a word with Samradan.’
‘But what of Brother Mochta and the Holy Relics?’ protested Bardan. ‘What of Finguine’s protection? Did Brother Mochta receive it?’
Fidelma shook her head and smiled thinly. ‘At the moment, you are under the protection of Cashel and you will find Brother Mochta in the place where we are taking you — together with the Holy Relics.’
They climbed out of the cellar and Eadulf replaced the trapdoor behind them and shot home the bolts. Then he reluctantly blew out the candle. The clouds seemed to be dispersing, however, and the moon, still bright and full, was this time constant. Fidelma led the way through the shadows to the door and they exited behind the warehouse.
With Eadulf helping Brother Bardan, who was not able to walk well, having been tied for so long, Fidelma conducted them as quickly as Bardán’s weakness allowed, from the back of the warehouse along the outskirts of the town, trying to avoid bringing themselves to the attention of the guard-dogs whose barking could still be heard not far off.
‘Thank God, it is probably a wolf or some other scavenger venturing too near the town limits that has distracted their attention,’ whispered Fidelma, as they paused a moment for Brother Bardán to recover from his cramp.
It took them fifteen minutes to reach their destination: the house of the female recluse, Della.
Fidelma knocked quietly on her door, giving her the special signal which she had arranged.
Hardly a moment passed before Della appeared in the doorway. Her face was pale and fearful in the light of the hanging lantern inside the door.
‘Fidelma! Thank God you have come!’
‘What is it, Della?’ asked Fidelma, surprised at the trembling anxiety of her friend.
‘It is the man whom you brought here … Brother Mochta …’
Fidelma led the way into the house and stood facing Della. The woman was trembling almost in hysteria. Something was frightening her.
‘What about Brother Mochta? Where is he?’
She suddenly noticed that the room was in chaos.
‘He has been taken!’ gasped Della.
‘Taken?’
‘He and that reliquary he was always clasping. He and the box were taken away. There was nothing that I could do.’
Fidelma reached out her hands to grasp the woman’s shoulders.
‘Get a grip on yourself, Della. You are unharmed anyway. This-’ she waved one hand to encompass the chaos — ‘can easily be tidied and repaired. But what of Mochta and the reliquary?’
Della caught her breath and steadied herself. ‘You left him in my care and he has been taken.’
Fidelma struggled to retain her patience. ‘So you say. Taken by whom?’
‘By your cousin. By Finguine, Prince of Cnoc Aine.’
Fidelma let her arms drop from Della’s shoulders. Her expression was one of dismay.
Brother Bardán’s reaction was of relief. ‘So you brought Brother Mochta here with the Relics? Well, thank God that Finguine has finally taken him into protection. We can rest easy now.’
Fidelma swung round as if to rebuke him. Instead she hesitated and said quietly: ‘Can we?’ She turned back to Della. ‘Who else came here with Finguine? Was it Finguine who destroyed your possessions?’
‘No, a warrior. Finguine did rebuke him and say it was unnecessary. The warrior was the leader of the band
