Eadulf bent close to the recumbent form.
‘Sister Marga, are you all right?’
The girl opened her eyes. She tried to focus but she gave up and closed them again. She took several deep breaths and tried again. This time she succeeded and said softly: ‘I am merely winded, I think.’
Then she recognised Eadulf and her eyes widened in fear. She scrambled to a sitting position.
Eadulf put a restraining hand on her shoulder.
‘Lie still!’ he ordered. ‘You might have broken something.’
She shook her head and replied: ‘Why are you following me?’
Eadulf smiled grimly. ‘It was purely coincidence that we saw you on this road. We were heading for the Glen of Eatharlaí when we saw you. Where were you going?’
She stuck out her lower lip pugnaciously. ‘Away. . away from Cashel. . from everything.’
Eadulf smiled. He had seen no signs of pain from the girl, and now he helped her to her feet. It was true that she appeared none the worse for her fall.
‘I am afraid, Marga, that you will have to come with us for the time being and tomorrow return with us to Cashel.’
‘I will not!’ the girl replied sharply.
Eadulf shrugged. ‘You have no choice.’
‘You are no brehon. You are a foreigner and cannot compel me.’
In this respect, the girl was speaking the truth. Eadulf glanced at Gormán, who had dismounted and was examining the horse she had been riding with a curious look. The warrior responded at once.
‘I am afraid that Brother Eadulf is right, sister,’ he said sharply, ‘for I am of the Nasc Niadh, the bodyguard of the king of Muman, and can compel you to return to Cashel to face questioning.’
‘Questioning about what?’ demanded the girl angrily. ‘I have already been questioned about Abbot Ultán’s death.’
‘About where you stole this horse from to start with.’
The girl flushed indignantly. ‘I did not steal it.’
‘Really? I know the horse well,’ Gormán said sharply. ‘I gave it to someone very dear to me as a present.’
Eadulf glanced at the warrior in surprise but decided to stick to the important matter in hand. ‘And we have to ask you what knowledge you have of the attack on Fergus Fanat,’ he added quietly.
The girl seemed to stagger a pace and went pale. ‘An attack on. . on Fergus?’ she began.
‘He was attacked last night, and he had not recovered consciousness when I left Cashel just after midday. All we know is that soon after that attack you left Cashel. This necessitates many questions.’
Sister Marga stared at him as if not understanding his words. Then, finally, she was able to say in a tremulous voice: ‘Are you accusing me of attacking Fergus?’
‘I am not accusing you of anything, Sister Marga. I am telling you what has happened and why you need to return to Cashel to clarify matters.’
‘If I do, I shall be killed,’ she suddenly sobbed.
‘I presume that you fear Brother Drón?’
She nodded quickly.
‘Then do not, for he has been taken under guard to Cashel this morning to answer questions also.’ He quickly told the story of Ordwulf and Drón and the reason for their journey to the Glen of Eatharlaí.
She listened quietly.
‘It must have been Brother Drón who attacked Fergus,’ she commented at last. ‘He is an evil man. If he tried to kill Fergus, then he will try to kill me.’
‘We will protect you,’ Eadulf assured her. ‘Brother Drón is safe under lock and key in Cashel. He will not escape to harm you.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Fidelma had caught up with Caol in the main square of the township below the great rock of Cashel. He had selected four other warriors of Colgú’s bodyguard and together with the tracker Rónán they had ridden from the fortress down into the town. Already Rónán had pointed out to them the hopelessness of his being able to pick up any tracks of Brother Drón’s in or around the township. He had spent some time examining the stall where Drón’s horse had been kept and discovered that there was nothing significant about the animal or its tracks. Caol had sent his men about the town to see if anyone had seen the religious from Cill Ria, but by the time Fidelma joined them he had had no success.
She found Caol standing morosely outside the main inn or bruighean speaking to the innkeeper.
‘There are still many strangers in the township, lady,’ he said in a resigned tone.
‘It is true, lady,’ added the innkeeper. ‘People find it hard to tell one from another. I can’t recall any northerner making such inquiries as you ask.’ Fidelma was about to thank him when he added: ‘Perhaps Delia might know something. I know she gave shelter to a young female religieuse from the north last night. Perhaps, if she is still there, she would know the man you are looking for?’
‘Della?’ Fidelma was astonished at the mention of her friend, the mother of Gormán. ‘Last night? Are you sure?’
The innkeeper answered in the affirmative. There was not much that happened in the township that he did not know about, he boasted.
Fidelma suggested that Caol’s warriors wait for them at the inn while she and Caol went directly to seek out Della. If the innkeeper was so free with the information about a northern religieuse staying at Della’s, then Drón would have probably been there before them.
Delia was standing at her open door when Fidelma swung down from her horse. She was a woman of short stature, in her forties, but her maturity had not dimmed the youthfulness of her features or the golden abundance of her hair, or the trimness of her figure.
‘You are welcome, lady.’ She smiled. ‘I was hoping that by now I would be at your wedding feast.’
‘Alas, there are matters to be sorted out first,’ responded Fidelma. ‘You have heard of what has happened, of course?’
‘My son. .’ she spoke the words with an added pride, as it had been only recently that she could admit in public that Gorman was her son, ‘has told me some of the details.’
‘I am told that you also had a visitor last night? Is she still here?’
Della’s eyes widened and her hand crept to her throat.
‘She left at midday. Surely, lady, she was not connected with the murders?’
Fidelma smiled reassuringly. ‘Do you know her name?’
‘Indeed. She told me that she was Sister Marga from Cill Ria.’
‘How did she come to stay with you?’
‘It was late last night. I was aroused by a noise in the little barn at the back where I keep my pigs and goat during the cold of winter. I know there are wolves about at this time of year and so I rose and lit a lamp and took my blackthorn stick and went to investigate. It was cold and the rain was falling so hard it was difficult to see one’s hand in front of one’s face. I went to my barn and there in a corner was this young, frightened girl.’
She paused and Fidelma waited patiently.
‘She told me that she was fleeing from some man in her community who wished her harm. She was on foot and had come to the barn, driven there by the cold and rain and night. She had thought to go east to Laigin but felt the man would guess her intention so she was going to attempt the western road but was overcome with tiredness and the rain. She was also exhausted. Naturally, I offered her shelter and warmth in my house.’
‘Did she give any further details?’
‘Only that she kept on about this man, Brother Drón, who wanted to harm her and how she had tried to escape from him once, and fallen in with someone whom she thought she could trust to help her. I gathered it was some young man. She did not tell me his name. She told me that he had betrayed her because he did not believe in her and so she had decided to flee from Cashel. We talked awhile and then she slept. In fact, the poor girl was so exhausted that she slept almost until midday.’