we can use with the bow lathe to drill holes into those stones we wish to string together. Other particles, the finer ones, we use to grind against the stones to produce the shapes which are required. The process is called lec- geraigid.’
Fidelma’s eyes suddenly widened. A look of triumph began to spread across her features but she swiftly controlled it.
‘You said once that the Venerable Cinaed visited here?’
Sister Easdan made an affirmative gesture.
‘When was this?’
‘Some time ago.’
‘Months?’
‘About two months, only a short time before we left. Why?’
‘He came to this workshop and talked to you and your companions, you said. Remind me, about what?’
Sister Easdan shrugged.
‘Just generally about our work, the techniques. Although, now I think of it, he was especially interested in where the stones were found, their type and value… I think he was especially interested in their value.’
Fidelma smiled at Eadulf.
‘I think I am beginning to see the connection,’ she said with some relief in her tone. ‘I think I finally see where the Venerable Cinaed may be involved in all this.’
‘I don’t understand,’ replied Eadulf in bewilderment.
‘We were concerned with a book that the Venerable Cinaed had written. We were concentrating on his political work. Don’t you remember? We should have been thinking about his new work — De ars sordida gemmae, a critical tract on the local trade in these gemstones.’
‘Do you mean that he was murdered because of a book he wrote on our work?’ gasped Sister Easdan.
‘We must find out some more,’ Fidelma replied. ‘It is a pity that book was destroyed but I believe we can guess the reason now.’ She gave a last glance around the workshop and sighed. ‘I have seen all that I need to see.’
They moved through the door and paused while Sister Easdan turned to lock it.
It was a slight sound, a movement of air, which caused Eadulf to turn with a cry of alarm and throw himself at Fidelma, knocking her sideways from the step.
As they both fell sprawling, a heavy stone block smashed into the spot where Fidelma had been standing a moment before.
Sister Easdan turned with a scream, staring at the shattered stone. Eadulf was already on his feet, hauling Fidelma up but scanning the upper storey of the stone building. He saw at once the gap in the parapet from which the stone had fallen.
‘How do you get to the upper floor?’ he shouted to the still shocked Sister Easdan. ‘Quickly now!’
Unable to speak, she simply pointed to a side door.
It was unlocked. Eadulf was through it and racing up a narrow enclosed stone stairway that led along the side of the building, passing the second floor and up to the flat roof. There was no one there. He looked around. He made his way to the parapet where the stone block was missing. He bent to examine the markings where the block had stood.
There was a noise behind him.
He swung round in a defensive position and found Fidelma had arrived. ‘A loose block?’ she asked.
He pulled a face.
‘A loose block that was helped,’ he replied sharply, pointing to the scratch marks. ‘Someone has deliberately prised it loose. They meant to kill you, I think.’
Fidelma took the news in her stride.
‘That means that we are fairly close to a resolution,’ she said calmly. ‘But how did they get off this roof so quickly?’ she added, looking about.
The answer was obvious. The end of the building was close to the main dormitory block of the abbey. A leap of a metre would take one on to a flat narrow walkway designed for the maintenance of that building’s roof, and the walkway led to a small door.
‘Shall I follow?’ Eadulf asked.
Fidelma made a negative gesture.
‘They are long gone, I think. You will never be able to identify the culprit.’
There came the sound of footsteps below from the narrow passage that led between the two buildings at ground level. Sister Sinnchene was walking along with a basket of clothing in her arms, obviously carrying out the task of delivering the washing. Fidelma turned back to the stairway.
‘We should see that Sister Easdan is all right,’ she said. ‘She had a shock.’
As they rejoined Sister Easdan in the workshop, Brother Cu Mara entered.
‘There is some debris on the ground outside, a stone seems to have fallen,’ he announced worriedly.
‘We know,’ Fidelma smile thinly. ‘A loose stone has fallen by accident but no harm has been done.’
The steward hesitated a moment and cleared his throat.
‘I came to offer my apologies for my rudeness yesterday,’ he said stiffly.
‘As steward of this abbey, I should not give way to personal emotion. I am sorry.’
Eadulf examined the steward with narrowed eyes. ‘How did you know we were here?’ he asked abruptly.
Brother Cu Mara frowned. ‘Sister Sinnchene passed as I was speaking to Sister Uallann and Sister Buan and I asked her if she knew where you were.’
‘Ah, I see,’ Fidelma said solemnly. ‘Your apology is accepted, Brother Cu Mara, these are stressful days for us all. It might have helped if I had been told earlier that the missing members of the community were all stone cutters and polishers, though.’
‘I don’t see how?’ At once the young steward was defensive again.
Sister Fidelma answered with a smile.
‘That is my job,’ she pointed out softly. ‘But I can only make deductions from information when it is provided. At least I have that information now.’
She left the workshop with Eadulf and the young Sister Easdan trailing in their wake, leaving the steward of the abbey looking thoughtfully after them.
Late in the afternoon they heard a commotion at the main gates of the abbey. It was Socht who came to report to them, quiet and unemotional as ever. A member of the community had arrived in a breathless condition from the port of An Bhearbha with news that two warships were entering the harbour. They belonged to Tadcan, lord of Baile Tadc, and Conri had been spotted on board. News swiftly spread that he was coming to Ard Fhearta with prisoners and the other missing members of the community. There was an excited movement to the main gates to await the arrival of the Ui Fidgente warlord. Fidelma and Eadulf, accompanied by Socht, joined the others and saw that most of the major figures of the abbey were already assembled there.
Fidelma noticed that only the Venerable Mac Faosma and Abbot Erc were absent. Sister Uallann, the physician, stood with folded arms next to Sister Buan. Nearby was Brother Cillin. Even Brother Eolas had been enticed from his library with the nervous young Brother Faolchair.
When Conri. and half a dozen warriors arrived they were escorting only one prisoner but behind them came the five missing young women of the community. Sister Easdan raced forward to greet them, laughing. They all threw their arms about each other, laughing, crying and making a considerable noise, much to the disapproval of some of the senior members of the abbey,
The prisoner was a dark, brooding man whose coarse features maintained an impassive expression. His hands were bound before him with rope.
Conri. grinned as he saw Fidelma and Eadulf, raising his hand in salute.
‘It was easy,’ he reported immediately. ‘Our two warships came upon Seanach’s Island at first light and when they saw our overwhelming force they laid down their arms immediately… all except this man.’ He prodded the man with his sword tip. ‘Allow me to present our friend Olcan. He wanted his band to fight to the death but was finally persuaded not to do so himself.’
Fidelma regarded him with a keen scrutiny. Olcan tried to meet her gaze arrogantly. She turned to
