with a bloodied knife in its hand.
The clothing indicated the identity of the corpse, even if Fidelma had not recognised the features twisted in a last moment of agonybefore death. It was Gabrán, the captain of the
Chapter Sixteen
‘Come on. I’ve been waiting for you!’ the man repeated as he leapt down from the rock to approach Eadulf.
Startled, Eadulf stood rooted to the spot and examined the man who had been standing on a jutting rock just above the path in front of him. He was dressed in rough country clothes. A brown, weatherbeaten skin denoted he was used to the outdoors. He was clad in a heavy leather jerkin over a thick woollen jacket and on his feet the tough boots that farmers usually wore.
Eadulf was not sure whether he should flee or stay and prepare to defend himself. Further along the track, he saw there was a cart already harnessed with a horse and realised that flight was pointless. He tensed his muscles for a fight.
The man halted and stared at him in disgust.
‘Where’s Gabrán? I thought he was coming in person this time?’
‘Gabrán?’ Eadulf glanced nervously behind him, uncertain what he should do. ‘He’s gone back to his boat,’ he said, deciding to tell the truth. After all, that was what he had heard the river-boat captain tell Dalbach.
‘Back to the river?’ The man before him spat at the side of the path. ‘Leaving you to come up here and make the collection, I suppose?’
‘Leaving me to come up here,’ repeated Eadulf, still truthfully.
‘I’ve been hanging around here for two hours. It’s cold and I wasn’t sure whether he had said to meet him here at Darach Carraig or at Dalbach’s cabin. Still, you are here now.’
‘Gabrán did not tell me that I should have been here earlier,’ Eadulf suddenly grew confident, realising that this must be the man with the merchandise whom Gabrán had been seeking when he came to Dalbach’s cabin earlier. Obviously this fellow had been confused by the similarity of the names Darach and Dalbach.
‘Just like him to get other people to do the work,’ sighed the man. Then he frowned. ‘You’re a foreigner, aren’t you?’
Eadulf stiffened slightly.
‘A Saxon, I can tell by your accent,’ went on the man suspiciously. Then he shrugged. ‘No skin off my nose. I suppose you accompany the merchandise all the way from here to the lands of the Saxons, eh?’
Eadulf decided to make a non-committal sound.
‘Well,’ the man went on, ‘it’s cold and it’s late and I don’t want to hang about here any longer than I have to. There are only two this time. I think, in future, I must go further afield. I suppose you’ve left your cart at the bottom of the hill? Didn’t Gabrán tell you that the track was traversable all the way up here? Well, you’ll have no trouble with only two of them. I’ll see Gabrán at Cam Eolaing when he returns from the coast but tell him, when you see him, that things are getting difficult. He can pay me when he returns. The price is going to increase though.’
Eadulf nodded as if in agreement. It seemed the only thing to do in this bizarre, confusing conversation.
‘Good man. They are in the cave as usual. Gabrán has told you where it is located?’
Eadulf hesitated and shook his head. ‘Not exactly,’ he said.
The man sighed impatiently, turned and pointed. ‘Two hundred metres along this path, my friend. Up the hill to your right you will see the short rock face, a small granite cliff. You can’t miss the opening to the cave. That’s where the merchandise is.’
The man glanced up at the sky and drew his collar up around his neck.
‘It’ll be raining soon. Maybe sleet will come with this cold. I’m off. Don’t forget to tell Gabrán what I say. It’s getting difficult.’
He went back to his cart, climbing quickly up onto the seat. He flicked the reins and turned the vehicle along a narrow, almost invisible track which branched off eastwards over the rolling hills.
Eadulf, shaken and confused, stood watching him go.
He had obviously been mistaken for one of Gabrán’s men. What merchandise was the boatman collecting in this godforsaken spot, he wondered. Darach Carraig — the oak rock. A curious name. He glanced behind him in the direction from which he had come. Gabrán had mentioned sending another to look for the merchandise. Perhaps that man was close behind him? He’d better move on quickly in case he was overtaken.
He set off hurriedly along the path. He supposed that he had been mentally counting the two hundred metres for he paused after a fewmoments and glanced up the hill to his right. Not far above him he saw the cluster of large boulders and rocks strewn across the hill and the natural hill scooped out at that point forming a short granite cliff. He hesitated and felt an overwhelming sense of curiosity. He could at least see what Gabrán’s peculiar merchandise was and why it had to be left in an isolated cave in an even more isolated part of the countryside. He glanced around. There was no sign of anyone in the bleak, darkening landscape.
Eadulf began to climb up towards the rocks and, as he did so, he saw that behind the larger of the granite boulders the almost cliff-like stretch of black rock appeared as if some hand had quarried it thus, it seemed so unnatural. As he drew closer, he was able to spot the dark entrance of a cave with a flat shelf of rock before it.
Reaching this, Eadulf paused for a moment to recover his breath from the short but steep ascent before taking a step forward. The cave was in semigloom. He peered into its dark recesses, standing waiting for his eyes to grow used to the shadows.
There was a sudden and unusual scrabbling sound which caused him to flinch, thinking some animal was within. Then he saw the source and his mouth dropped open in astonishment.
There were two human shapes on the ground at the far end of the cave, seated with their backs against the rocks. From the manner of their posture he saw they were bound hand and foot and, on closer inspection, he realised that they were also gagged. They were of slight build; that he could make out in the darkness, but beyond that he could see no other features.
‘Whoever you are,’ he declaimed loudly, ‘I mean you no harm.’
He moved towards them.
Instantly there arose muffled, piteous moaning and the figure nearest him seemed to cringe away, although it could not move far because of its bonds.
‘I mean you no harm,’ repeated Eadulf. ‘I must bring you to the light so that I may see you.’
Ignoring the animal-like sounds his movements provoked, he bent down and lifted the nearest squirming bound form and half-pulled, half-carried it to the cave entrance.
Two wide, frightened eyes stared at him from over the dirty rag that formed a gag.
Eadulf stepped away from the form in amazement.
It was the face of a young girl, no more than twelve or thirteen years of age, that stared back at him in utter fear.
‘Well, Abbess Fainder,’ Fidelma said slowly, as she examined the scene of carnage before her, ‘I think that you have some explaining to do.’
Abbess Fainder returned her gaze almost uncomprehendingly. Then she looked down at the body of Gabrán beside her and at the knife in her hand. With a strange animal-like groan she dropped the knife and sprang to her feet. Her eyes were wild.
