Fidelma dies!’
Eyes had flitted to the windows on either side of the oratory. Through the slits two of Slebene’s warriors with drawn bows, arrows steadily pointed at their targets, could be seen. One of them was the red-haired champion. The chief of the Corco Duibhne had not told lies. The arrows were well aimed.
Conri, with a hiss of anger, dropped his weapon and stood back.
‘Now tell your man to move away from the door!’
Conr did so and Socht and his companions reluctantly discarded their weapons and stood aside.
Sister Buan, the woman Fidelma had identified as Uallach, was staring at her with features contorted with hate. She did not seem in a hurry to leave.
‘Come, Uallach!’ cried Slebene. ‘There is no time-’
‘Kill them!’ the woman suddenly screamed. ‘Kill them all!’
The abbot flinched and closed his eyes waiting for the impact of the arrow but Fidelma stood firmly returning Sister Buan’s malignant gaze.
Luckily it was Slebene who was in command of his warriors and they waited for his orders. He realised that if his men loosed their arrows, Fidelma and Abbot Erc might die but he would have no chance of escape from the oratory. The threat that his own death would almost certainly result prevented him from giving the order.
The chief came forward and gripped Sister Buan’s arm tightly. ‘Think, Uallach! Think! If we kill them, we will never get out of this abbey. We must leave, get to An Daingean and raise our army. It is the only way. Come quickly while my archers can cover us. These others can be dealt with later.’
Reluctantly, Sister Buan, or Uallach, allowed herself to be drawn back along the aisle to the door of the oratory.
‘Tell your man to open the door,’ yelled Slebene as they backed towards it.
Conri signalled to Socht to do so.
The warrior turned in disgust and opened the door. While he was still bending to swing the door back, Slebene brought the pommel of his short sword down on the man’s unprotected head and he fell with hardly a sound.
Slebene and Uallach were gone through the door. Outside, Slebene drew it shut behind them. Those inside heard the door slam shut and something placed against it. Then the two archers at the windows withdrew without releasing their arrows. With the threat that confined his actions now gone, Conr sprang forward, grabbing his fallen sword, and shouting to someone to attend to Socht who was trying to staunch the blood on his head. Conr tried the door. Socht’s two companions joined him but their assault on the door was useless. It had been well jammed from the outside.
There was a general hubbub in the oratory and Fidelma called in a loud and clear tone for order and quiet. They heard the sound of horses from outside. She and Eadulf hastened to Conr’s side.
‘They’ll be heading for their warship,’ she told Conri. ‘Will Tadcan be able to deal with them? Is there a way to warn him?’
Conr grinned and took from his belt a small horn, which had been hanging by its thongs. He went to the window and raised it to his lips. The blast was long and shrill and he sounded it three times. By this time, other members of the community had come to the oratory to see what the commotion was and removed the obstacle, which turned out to be a couple of poles, that had held the door fast.
Conr seized a red-faced and bewildered brother. The warlord demanded to know where Slebene and his companions had gone.
‘Lord, they left by the main gate. They all went on horseback and seem to be taking the road to the coast.’
‘Then it is up to Tadcan,’ muttered Fidelma.
Conr once more raised his horn and blew the three sharp notes into the still winter air. He paused and then, faintly in the distance, they heard three answering blasts.
The warlord turned to Fidelma and Eadulf with a smile of triumph. ‘Tadcan has heard, lady. He will be waiting for them.’
Fidelma peered round and caught sight of Brother Cu Mara.
‘Get our horses, quickly!’ she called.
The steward was looking confused. However, Socht, having partially recovered from the blow, was coming out of the oratory with his two fellow warriors helping him. Hearing Fidelma’s order, they ran towards the stables. While Fidelma and Conri fretted impatiently, moments passed, and then the warriors returned leading their horses.
A short time later, Conri, followed by Fidelma and Eadulf, swept out of the gates of the abbey at a canter. Eadulf was hanging on for dear life, unused to the pace. Socht and his companions were left behind trying to organise horses for themselves.
Fidelma, keeping pace alongside the warlord, shouted across as they rode along the path to the coastal port.
‘What if they stand and fight before we reach the coast?’
‘That is not Slebene’s style, by all accounts,’ cried Conr. ‘He’ll make for the protection of his ship and his men.’
‘But he must realise that Tadcan has been forewarned.’
Conr did not bother to reply. They rode on in silence. It was soon evident that Tadcan and Slebene were in conflict. As they neared the port of An Bhearbha they saw smoke rising. A moment or two later they swung over the hill and down into the bay.
A warship was burning in the harbour. It was tied close to the quayside. A few other merchant ships were being towed away from the quays by small craft, apparently drawing them out of harm’s way. Two more warships were stationary some way off near the entrance of the bay but they could see warriors milling about the quay. Some bodies lay nearby.
Conri called to Fidelma to hold back while he investigated. She halted her mount reluctantly and allowed Eadulf to catch up with her, reining trot down towards the quayside, his sword unsheathed.
A warrior came running up on foot towards him, sword in hand. But Conr halted and seemed to greet the man. The warlord turned and waved them forward.
‘This is Tadcan, lord of Baile Tadc,’ he grinned. ‘Good news, lady. Tell her, Tadcan.’
The warrior, a broad-shouldered, well-built young man, with a shock of fair hair and a pleasant grin, saluted her.
‘It is a story that is easy in the telling, lady,’ he said. ‘We heard lord Conr
’s signal which had been arranged with Socht. We knew something was up. And we decided to pre-empt the danger by seizing Slebene’s warship. His captain decided to fight, so we had to set fire to it. I know Slebene of old. He doesn’t believe in fighting fair, so I decided not to give him the benefit of the doubt. I wasn’t wrong, as it turned out. There were many armed warriors waiting below decks but we bested them.
‘While we were thus engaged, along comes Slebene with two of his warriors and a religieuse. They fell on us and so we fell on them.’
He laughed a little harshly.
‘In truth, lady, the lord of the Corco Duibhne was no great warrior, and when we had dispatched his men, especially the red-haired warrior, he seemed to go berserk in fear. He leapt for his ship’s rail from the quayside rather than surrender. He did not make it. He slipped into the harbour waters and when the tide caused the ship to nudge against the quay he was crushed between them. We hauled his body out of the waters and his men, realising their chief is dead, are even now surrendering to us.’
He jerked his thumb to the burning warship.
‘His ship is well alight and it is beyond our abilities to douse the flames.’
Conri was smiling approvingly.
‘You have done well, Tadcan.’
Fidelma, however, was looking about with a frown as if not interested in the warrior’s report.
‘Where is Uallach?’ she demanded.
Tadcan looked bewildered.
‘Who, lady?’
