The Dove of Death

‘But it grows along these shores?’

‘It does, indeed.’

Eadulf nodded appreciatively as he finished the bowl. ‘Ah, that should settle my stomach.’

‘You feel better?’

‘Better than when I was lifted from the sea,’ smiled Eadulf, trying to regain his sense of humour.

The young man nodded. ‘It was the worst place on this island to attempt a landing.’

‘My name is Eadulf, by the way.’ Eadulf decided to change the subject and introduce himself.

‘That I know,’ responded the young man.

‘And your name is…? I think I heard it spoken but have forgotten.’

‘Heraclius of Constantinopolis.’

‘And you are Greek then?’ Eadulf said. ‘You are further from home than I am.’

‘Indeed, I am,’ Heraclius said dryly. ‘My father, Callinicus, was of Heliopolis in the land of Phoenice. He had to flee from there before my birth when our armies were defeated at Yarmouk by Abu Ubaida ibn al-Jarral over thirty years ago.’

‘Alas, I know nothing of these names nor of that part of the world.’

‘Abu Ubaida commanded the great Muslim army and after our defeat at Yarmouk most of our people fled from Heliopolis leaving behind much booty for him. My father went to Constantinopolis to take service with the emperors of Byzantium.’

‘I have vaguely heard of these Muslims. When I was in Rome, I was told about them raiding the coastal towns,’ Eadulf said. ‘Was your father also an apothecary?’

The young man shook his head quickly.

‘No. He was an architect. He built some of the great buildings for which Heliopolis had been famous.’

‘But you became an apothecary?’

‘I did.’

‘How did you come here? It is a long way from your home.’

‘I decided to leave Constantinopolis to seek my fortune for there is a surfeit of apothecaries at home. I took ship with a merchant and travelled through the Middle Sea to Massilia. Finally, a year ago, I came to this country, this land they called Bro-Waroch, and took service with the noble family here. They appreciated my skills and so I stayed here.’

‘You are young to have made such a journey.’

The young man shrugged. ‘I am five and twenty years, but a youthful countenance is passed down in my family. Callinicus appears to be more my brother in appearance than my father.’ Eadulf had placed the age of the apothecary at around twenty years. Heraclius was examining him with interest. ‘Why did you give up the path to being a healer? You say that you have studied the art?’

‘I studied only that I might be of some assistance to my brethren, but not to spend my time in a dispensary,’ replied Eadulf.

‘Ah, yes. I forget that you are a religious. You are the companion of this Hibernian lady…’

‘She is my wife,’ Eadulf corrected him.

‘Ah.’ Heraclius nodded. ‘Then you do not follow this concept that all religious must be celibate and remain separate from one another, as does Abbot Maelcar? We, too, in the East, do not believe that all our religious should be celibate.’

‘I once thought I should follow that path,’ affirmed Eadulf. Then he frowned a little. ‘So you know Abbot Maelcar?’

‘While I prefer to follow my experiments here, I serve this family and often go to the mainland. I have met him and, I confess, I do not like him.’

Eadulf realised the passing of time and made a quick apology. ‘I must now find Fidelma. Have you seen her?’

‘I have not for a while. This part of the villa is usually the province of the attendants. I doubt she would come here.’

‘I am surprised the kitchens are deserted.’

‘Well, the villa is not expecting guests and so the lady Trifina has no need of many workers in her kitchens.’

‘This villa is run very much in Roman style, isn’t it?’ queried Eadulf, interested in what he had seen.

The young man seemed diffident.

‘I would not know,’ he said. ‘It seems a normal way of living to me.’

‘Of course. You are Greek. This way of life is not usual in the far west.’ Eadulf hesitated but he sensed the Greek was growing tired of his questions and so he decided not to press him further. ‘Well, Heraclius of Constantinopolis, I thank you for your help. Indeed, I should probably thank you for my life.’

‘The warriors who plucked you from the sea managed to make you vomit the seawater from your belly, otherwise you might have drowned. They should be thanked. I did but little.’

‘In that case,’ responded Eadulf, ‘I shall thank you for that little you did do. What was the name of the warrior who saved me?’

‘I am not sure. You will have to ask Bleidbara.’ Heraclius turned away before he saw the surprise on Eadulf’s features.

In deep thought, Eadulf left the apothecary and went out into the courtyard. Instead of exiting by the way he had come, he walked slowly around the far side of the rectangular court to examine the building which he realised was very Roman in structure and also old. Clearly, in the days of the empire of Rome this had been built to demonstrate the wealth of the owners. He also realised that this courtyard could not be the only one in the villa, for the main courtyard would be reserved for the convenience of Trifina and her guests. He wondered whether there was some way of reaching it without retracing his steps. There was a small door at the far side of the courtyard.

He tried the handle and found that it opened out onto a small and pleasant garden, filled with herbs and plants doubtless destined for the use of the cooks. It was walled and on the far side was yet another door. He crossed the garden and again he found that once the internal bolt had been withdrawn, the door opened easily. The first thing that struck him was the salt tang of the sea, and he found himself gazing across the open waters to the eastern side of the island. But he was distracted immediately by a stronger, more curious smell. He noticed a small stone-built hut standing a little way from the outer walls of the villa and the smell seemed to permeate this building. It contrasted strongly with the balmy sea air.

Curiosity compelled Eadulf to walk towards the grey stone building. Then he heard a cry, a shout as if of warning, from below. He glanced down and caught sight of a small craft almost below him. It was a small sailing dinghy with its sail furled and one person standing up in it, gazing upwards towards him.

Eadulf started, his eyes widening as he recognised the features of larnbud.

At that moment, he began diving into a dark whirlpool; he had a split second of consciousness before the dive began, when the thought registered that someone had hit him on the back of the head.

‘Well, Sister Fidelma,’ Trifina was saying slowly. ‘You seem very interested in that ship?’

Fidelma’s mind raced for a plausible reason as to why she should be hiding behind some bushes watching Bleidbara’s departure. She decided that honesty was the best policy.

‘I was wondering why a warship — for its lines proclaim that it is no merchantman — should be anchored off this island,’ she said defensively.

Trifina gazed thoughtfully at her.

‘The ship is called the Morvran and it is in the service of my family,’ she said. ‘If you remember, it is the same ship that Bleidbara informed you that he was captain of the other night — the same ship that was anchored in the inlet below Brilhag. When I need to come here, this is the ship that transports me. There is nothing sinister about it.’

‘You did not tell me that Bleidbara was here,’ Fidelma remarked.

‘Why should I need to? I did mention that I would send one of my men back to Brilhag to inform them that you and Eadulf were here on this island with me. I have sent Bleidbara.’

Fidelma did not respond, her mind rapidly turning over the information.

Trifina saw her concentration.