Our Lady of Darkness

‘I doubt it; it was something to do with an escaped foreigner. Gabrán is more concerned with his profits than with what happens at the fortress of our chieftain.’

‘We were told that the Cág had not sailed downriver today.’

The woman indicated north with her head.

‘Then it went upriver. That’s common sense. Is something amiss that so many people are seeking Gabrán today?’

Fidelma had been turning away when she paused and glanced back at the woman.

‘So many people?’

‘Well, I do not know her name, but there was a grand religieuse here. She was making enquiries after Gabrán not long ago.’

‘Was it Abbess Fainder of Fearna?’

The woman shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know her. I don’t go into Fearna — it’s a big, busy place.’

‘You implied that other people have asked you about Gabrán today?’

‘A warrior was here as well. He announced himself as a commander of the King’s guards.’

‘Was his name Mel?’

‘He didn’t say.’ She shrugged again. ‘He was here even before the grand religieuse.’

‘He was looking for Gabrán?’

‘In a great hurry, he was. Seemed most put out when I told him where the Cág had gone. Upriver? says he. Upriver? Then off he goes, racing away.’

‘I see. I don’t suppose that he mentioned why he wanted to find Gabrán?’

‘Not he.’

‘So we will find Gabrán somewhere upriver?’

‘I have said as much.’

Fidelma waited but when no further information was forthcoming she asked: ‘Yet this river appears to have two main arteries beyond those islands. Which one do we take?’

‘You are a stranger here, Sister,’ the woman chided. ‘There is only one route for a boat. The eastern branch of the river is not negotiable for a boat the size of the Cág. Gabrán usually takes the northern route to some settlements along the way. He collects some merchandise there before he returns downriver where he sells it.’

Fidelma thanked the woman and turned for the woodcutter’s boat with Dego following.

‘It seems that we must ride further upriver after Gabrán, then,’ she sighed.

‘Why do you think the abbess was looking for him?’ asked Dego, as they reached the boat. ‘And now Mel? Are they all involved in this mystery?’

Fidelma shrugged. ‘Let us hope that we shall discover that.’ She found herself suddenly shivering. ‘Today is bitterly cold. I hope that Eadulf has found some shelter.’

Back in the boat, the woodcutter was reclining, wrapped in a woollen cloak, looking comfortable in spite of the chill.

‘I told you that Gabrán was not there,’ he grinned, reaching out a hand to steady Fidelma as she climbed into the boat, causing it to rock a little.

‘You did,’ she replied shortly.

He rowed them back across the river in silence.

On the north shore, Dego gave the man the coin he asked for and they rejoined Enda.

‘The Cág has gone upriver,’ Dego told him. ‘We shall ride after it.’

Enda’s features were gloomy.

‘I spoke to the woodcutter’s wife while you were across there,’ he offered. ‘The northern branch of the river is not navigable beyond twoor three kilometres from here, and the southern branch is not navigable beyond a kilometre or thereabouts.’

‘Well, that is good news,’ replied Fidelma, mounting her horse. ‘That means we shall catch up with the Cág sooner rather than later.’

‘The woodcutter’s wife also said that there was another warrior here,’ added Enda, ‘who left his horse …’

‘We know all about him; it was Mel,’ Dego interrupted, hauling himself up into the saddle.

‘Apparently he was with another man who waited for him on this shore while he went across the river.’

Fidelma waited patiently and then said with irritation, ‘well — are you going to share your knowledge, with us Enda?’

‘Yes, of course. It was the Brehon, the woman said. Bishop Forbassach.’

Eadulf had left his new-found friend Dalbach, and was climbing further up into the hills. The air was chill and a wind was whipping up from the south-east. He knew that bad weather was on its way. From his elevated position, he could see the dark shape of rainclouds gathering in the southern sky.

He was taking the track directly north which, Dalbach had advised him, would bring him into a valley at the eastern end of the northern mountains, somewhere beyond a peak where he could turn west and pick up the road to Fearna. In spite of his blindness, Dalbach seemed to recall the geography of his native land as well as any sighted man. Memories were seared into his mind. The countryside which Eadulf was travelling through was a desolate hilly landscape, and he was doubly grateful for Dalbach’s hospitality and his loan of warm clothing and boots to replace his worn woollen habit and sandals. He was also glad of the woollen hat which Dalbach had provided; it complemented his sheepskin cloak, and fitted snugly on his head with the flaps covering his ears. The wind across the hillside was like a knife cutting frequently through the sensitive parts of the flesh.

He strode head down along a track which seemed to vanish now and then. Several times he had to pause to ensure that he was following it at all. It was not a well-frequented path; that much he could discern. Only now and again did he raise his head in an attempt to peer into the cold wind but it was easier to walk with his eyes on the ground before him.It was during one of his brief glances ahead that he had cause to halt in surprise.

A man was standing a little way off on the path ahead of him.

‘Come on!’ the man shouted. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’

Fidelma and her companions had been riding for an hour along the north riverbank when Dego pulled on his reins and pointed in excitement.

‘That must be the Cág! Look at that boat tied up by that jetty beyond those trees ahead.’

Fidelma’s eyes narrowed. Not far ahead was a small group of trees, and a large river boat was tied up against the adjacent wooden jetty. By the jetty a horse was tethered. Fidelma recognised it straight away.

‘That’s Abbess Fainder’s horse,’ she told her companions.

‘Then I presume that we have found Gabrán at last,’ Enda observed.

The three riders moved on at a slow walk and halted where the abbess’s horse stood quietly grazing. The wooden jetty was the only sign of any civilisation in the area. There seemed to be no houses or dwellings of any sort nearby. It was a curiously desolate spot.

From the Cág come no sound nor movement. Fidelma wondered where the crew were. She presumed that everyone was below and that no one had noticed their arrival. They tethered their horses and Fidelma led the way from the jetty onto the boat. It was a long, flat-bottomed vessel, used only for river navigation for it would be unstable and dangerous in open waters.

Fidelma paused on the deck; it seemed unnaturally quiet.

She made her way cautiously over to the main cabin, which was contained in the raised after portion of the vessel, with its door at deck level. She was about to knock when she heard a faint sound from within: she knew instinctively that something was wrong.

Glancing warningly at Dego and Enda, she put her hand to the catch and pushed it gently down before abruptly thrusting the door open.

Nothing had prepared her for the scene that was revealed within.

There was a great deal of blood in the gloomy cabin. The dark stains had leaked out from a body which lay sprawled on the floor. But it was the figure which was kneeling by the head of the body that shocked her. A figure