Bleidbara.’
He continued to speak in Latin and the girl responded in the same language.
‘Worrying news?’ she repeated, and her voice held the same high timbre as that of her brother. It was unattractive.
Fidelma and her companions rose from their chairs as the newcomers came forward. Macliau waved a hand in introduction.
‘This is the Lady Fidelma, who is sister to a King of Hibernia; her companion is Brother Eadulf and, of course, you will remember Brother Metellus from the abbey. This is my sister, the Lady Trifina. And this is Bleidbara, who is the commander of my…my father’s bodyguard.’
The young man inclined his head towards them in a brief gesture. He was quite handsome, Fidelma thought. His features were regular, and his bright blue eyes seemed to have a discerning and caring quality about them.
The girl regarded Fidelma with a suspicious gaze as she seated herself.
‘You are a long way from home, lady,’ she said. ‘We heard no word of a ship from Hibernia putting in around our coasts. What brings you here?’
‘Nothing that is of my choice,’ responded Fidelma, feeling hostility in her tone.
‘Indeed,’ interposed Macliau, and quickly outlined the situation as they had told him.
‘And this is the worrying news?’ drawled the girl.
Again it fell to Macliau to tell her about the attack on the merchant Biscam and his men. He turned to Bleidbara: ‘I was about to give orders to Boric to take some men and gather their bodies and transport them to the abbey.’
‘I will instruct him now,’ the young commander said grimly. Then he glanced to Trifina. ‘Biscam, now. The attacks increase.’
‘We need fear no attack by brigands here,’ Trifina said. ‘We have enough warriors to protect us. And our father should return within a few days.’
‘I have already assured our friends of that.’ Macliau wore a thin smile. ‘And, indeed, I feel we should insist that they remain as our guests until he does, rather than face the hazards of a return to the abbey. These marauders may not be gone entirely,’ he added, ‘and we would not wish anything to happen to you.’
Eadulf felt an uncontrollable shiver on his spine. Was there some hidden meaning to the young man’s words? He glanced at Fidelma in expectation that she would make the excuse of returning, but Fidelma remained calmly smiling.
‘It is a tempting offer,’ she replied. ‘You may be aware that Abbot Maelcar seems to dislike the presence of women at the abbey and we have had to rely on the hospitality of a nearby village.’
Macliau chuckled. ‘Then it is settled. I will hear no protests. You are the guests of the house of Brilhag. I know that Brother Metellus here has little love for the Abbot and I am sure he will accept our invitation as well.’
Brother Metellus inclined his head in polite acquiescence, saying, ‘I have offered my services to my friends here as translator and guide until such time as they can find passage back to their own land of Hibernia.’
‘And I am sure that will not be long, once my father has returned,’ replied Macliau in good spirits.
‘One thing,’ Fidelma interrupted. ‘We need to send a message back to Aourken, with whom we were staying, to inform her where we are.’
‘Aourken?’ Trifina frowned. ‘I know the name. She used to teach me Latin grammar when I was young.’
It was Bleidbara, still waiting to be dismissed, who answered Fidelma.
‘I will tell Boric that when he recovers the bodies of Biscam and his men, he should inform Aourken that you are guests at Brilhag. He can bring your belongings here.’
‘They will not amount to much as we fled ship in nothing more than what we stood up in,’ replied Eadulf.
‘See that the old lady is well compensated for foregoing their company, Bleidbara,’ added Macliau.
The young warrior raised a hand in salute and left.
Fidelma turned to Trifina, saying, ‘This fortress stands, I believe, on the edge of what you call the Little Sea?’
‘That is true,’ replied the girl languidly.
‘Do you not fear attack from the sea?’
The girl did not answer but Macliau roared with laughter. ‘Impossible. It was a natural fortification for our ancestors, the Veneti, in ancient times.’
‘Could not these brigands be hiding out on these islands? There is room for a ship to anchor by them.’
‘Impossible!’
They all turned to Trifina with some surprise at the vehemence in her voice.
‘Impossible, lady?’ Fidelma said quietly. ‘Why so?’
‘We have a fortified dwelling on Govihan, the island of the smithy’s forge,’ Macliau explained hurriedly, glancing in annoyance at his sister. ‘From there our men maintain a watch along this coast. We are seafarers ourselves and have our own ships. If there were any strange movements, our men would know and inform us. It is the duty of the Lord of Brilhag to offer protection to our people in this area.’
‘I have just returned from Govihan,’ Trifina added, as if to justify her vehemence. ‘That is why I have said it is impossible.’
‘Where is this island exactly?’
‘Govihan?’ asked the girl. ‘It is the first large island off the headland here.’
Macliau suddenly stood up with a smile.
‘Come,’ he invited, ‘it is still light. Let me take you up the tower and you can see it for yourself. The tower also provides a good view of the Little Sea. And you will see why we do not fear attack.’
Trifina spread herself on her chair with a yawn. ‘I will remain here. I have had enough exercise today,’ she drawled.
Just as they rose to follow him, a girl came down the stairway. She paused at the bottom, caught sight of Macliau and smiled happily before moving towards him. She was young and of a fleshy build. ‘Voluptuous’ was the word that came into Fidelma’s mind; this was a girl who knew her ability to attract certain types of men and was not above using it. She had dark hair, brown eyes and rosy cheeks, and full red lips. Seeing Macliau, she moved seductively across the floor to him, showing off the whiteness of her teeth in a proprietorial smile. Her clothing seemed to match her personality; it was bright and verging on the gaudy.
For a moment, Macliau looked rather embarrassed. Then he introduced her.
‘This is Argantken. She does not speak Latin, but there is little need for you to talk with her.’
He turned without further ado and addressed the girl in a sharp tone. She pouted and said something in reply, then with a frown of displeasure at the company, but still without acknowledging them, she left the room with the same flouncing motion as that with which she had entered it.
Eadulf looked at Brother Metellus but the monk’s face was impassive.
‘To the tower.’ Macliau began to lead the way, with the little dog trotting close at his heels. They followed him to a door at the base of a square tower, then up a narrow wooden stairway swung around the inner wall, intricately worked in oak beams; every five metres or so, it supported a floor, each floor given over to stores of various kinds. The upper floor held implements of war, bows and stacks of arrows. Fidelma commented on the fact and bent to examine one of the sheaths of arrows that hung from the walls.
‘I am glad to see you are prepared,’ she said. ‘You say that attack from the sea on your fortress is impossible. The sea is a good road to the world, but the traffic is not all outward-going. Sometimes the sea brings guests whom we do not want.’
Macliau shrugged. ‘So it was in the time of our ancestors when it brought the fleet of Julius Caesar within sight of these very shores. Of late it has brought the warships of the Franks and even of the raiding Saxons to our southern coasts, but they have not infiltrated into the Morbihan. Brother Metellus, wasn’t it your writer Seneca who underscored the lesson by saying that it will not always be summer?’
‘
‘We are prepared for winter. But these recent raiders obviously have no wish to attack those who can
