‘Slebene!’ muttered Conri.
‘Is there any other?’ Eadulf challenged.
‘Well,’ agreed Conri, ‘only the wronged dead are allowed to come back from the Otherworld on the night of the feast of Samhain to wreak vengeance on the living of this world. As Uaman was not wronged when he perished here, though he wronged many himself, he does not qualify to return on the feast of Samhain. So I agree with Eadulf, we must beware of Slebene.’
Fidelma peered around the deserted island and a cold wind caught at her, causing her to shiver slightly.
‘There seems much wrong in this land of the Corco Duibhne. Yet before we can accuse Slebene we must gather proof against him.’
Eadulf was unhappy that Fidelma did not support his view that it was more than apparent that Slebene was to blame.
‘There can be no other explanation,’ he said determinedly.
‘Perhaps not, but I am only interested in what can be argued before the Brehons.’ Conri was about to speak when Fidelma held up her hand. ‘We will speak of this no more until we can argue fact and not speculation.’
Another gust of cold air hit them and Eadulf glanced at the darkening, grey sea with its choppy waves. The hour was growing late.
‘The tide is on the turn,’ he said. ‘I think we should go back across the sands to the mainland before we are cut off for the night.’
‘What of the goods in the storeroom? What of the gold?’ demanded Conri.
‘We must leave it. Our first consideration is to find the missing women,’ snapped Fidelma. ‘We can deal with that matter later.’
The journey back was an easier one as they had their own footsteps in the sand to guide them safely over the sand dunes to the firm shore. The sky was darkening when they left the island and they could hear the sibilant whispering of the sea as the oncoming tide gathered for its onslaught across the sand.
‘We have a short time before darkness. Let me see where the body of the abbess was found.’
They collected their horses and Conri led them a short distance along the road and then up through some trees towards the dark shape of a conical stone hut.
‘Mugron found her outside the coirceogach and then dragged the body behind it, packing it with snow to preserve it until he reached Ard Fhearta to alert us.’
Fidelma dismounted and looked about. She realised there would be little to find. Too long had passed and too many people had been here. Also, there had been several falls of snow since the incident, obscuring everything. But the hope of discovering some significant clue was not the reason for her coming. She merely needed to see and feel the atmosphere of the place where the deed was done as it helped her to recreate it in her mind. She looked around. They were out of sight of the island, being round a bend in the road, and the road itself was a short distance away below them.
Fidelma bent down and entered the stone hut. There were traces of a travellers’ fire, some discarded pottery items and a few pieces of rag… no, not rags, but clothing. She looked carefully at one of them. It turned out to be a leather jerkin, a seaman’s jerkin, of the style she had seen on the decomposing corpses on the island. Nearby was the boot — a coisbert.
She emerged from the coirceogach and held out the items to Conri.
‘I presume that this is the boot and clothing that Mugron showed you?’
Conri gave an affirmative gesture.
‘They may mean nothing,’ she said, replacing them in the hut. ‘There are many ways that the clothing could have come here. There is also a chance someone took it from one of the corpses and brought it here. Perhaps one of the people who killed Faife could have been carrying it or even wearing it. There are lots of possibilities.’
Conri was looking at the sky with impatience.
‘I do not think that we should spend any more time here. We need to find a place to pass the night,’ he said. ‘It is going to be a cold one and I do not fancy the idea of sleeping out under the trees.’
‘I told you that there was a village up the mountainside just here. We should have no trouble in finding a sheltered place. It was people from it who destroyed Uaman’s fortress once they learnt they were free from his thrall.’
‘Let us hope that they are more hospitable these days,’ the warlord muttered.
‘People’s actions in normal circumstances cannot be judged by their actions in extreme conditions,’ replied Eadulf. ‘I am sure we will find hospitality there.’
‘Then lead on, Eadulf,’ Fidelma instructed. ‘It has been a tiring day.’
They remounted and Eadulf led the way up the track in the direction he knew the village lay. It was not far up the hillside, on the easy slopes just before the trees stopped and the great bald, rocky hills began to climb into the towering Sliabh Mis mountains. Eadulf swung round a bend on the track and came abruptly into what was the centre of the village. There was a blacksmith’s workshop in its usual position at the end of the settlement and a series of buildings, both stone and wooden structures, spread either side of the track. It was not quite dark yet and Eadulf was surprised by the utter stillness of the place. It seemed deserted.
‘Are you sure this is the place, Eadulf?’ Fidelma found herself whispering as they halted.
‘I am sure.’
He leant forward in his saddle and gave forth a loud shout.
‘Hoigh! Hoigh!’
There was a sudden fluttering of alarmed birds rising into the air but when their angry squawks died away no one had appeared or answered the call.
As an automatic reaction, Conri’s two warriors had their swords unsheathed and ready as they examined their surroundings.
‘Your villagers seem to have deserted this place,’ commented Conri unnecessarily.
Eadulf rode forward between the houses, peering in at half-open doorways. It was true. It seemed that the entire village had been deserted, and certainly fairly recently judging by the condition of the buildings and what he could see of their interiors.
Fidelma was resigned.
‘Well, if we cannot find hospitality we can, at least, have a roof over our heads this night,’ she said philosophically.
Eadulf pointed to a building.
‘That looks suitable for accommodation. There is even a well beside it.’
They dismounted and Socht and his companion took charge of the
‘From the dust, this place cannot have been deserted for more than a week or two,’ Fidelma commented. ‘I wonder why the people decided to leave?’
A moment later the second warrior returned. He wore a grin on his face. He said nothing but had his bow in one hand and held up two rabbits in the other.
Conri smiled appreciatively.
‘Well, we won’t starve tonight. And we have water at hand and there is still corma in my saddle bag to keep out the winter’s chill.’
At a nod from Conri, the warrior went outside to skin and gut the animals ready for cooking while the warlord constructed a spit that could be turned over the fire he had made.
It was while they were seated in the main room of the deserted building in front of the fire, watching the sizzling carcasses of the rabbits being turned over it, that they all heard a slight, muffled sound.
It was a soft thump. The noise seemed to come from under the very floor on which they sat. Yet the floor appeared to be a hardened earth surface.
Conri glanced at the others and placed a finger to his lips. His brows were drawn together. He began to examine the floor without moving from his seat. Then he silently pointed. There was a spot where dried rushes had been strewn and they saw a metal ring almost buried in the straw.
Quietly, quickly, Conri rose and moved to it. His two warrior companions had drawn their swords ready. The warlord bent down, gripped the metal ring quietly, paused only a moment and then pulled it abruptly upwards. A small trapdoor came away and Conri peered down.
