‘Does he still raid the area?’
‘We are too strong for him now. But with only a few warriors he still controls the roads along the great peninsula to the north of us where the lands of the Corco Duibhne lie. The peninsula stretches nearly fifty kilometres into the wild western sea, mountainous and bleak, with tracks so narrow that he can force travellers to pay tribute to him for the privilege of passing through.’
‘Surely the chieftain of the Corco Duibhne can challenge him? If he has only six men to guard him, then he can surely be overthrown with ease.’
‘Not so easily, my friend. Uaman dwells in an impregnable fortress. It is a great stone stronghold whose walls rise like a round tower on a small island and is built in such a way that even great armies could not gain entry.’
‘Tell me more about this place.’
‘The Tower of Uaman?’
‘Where does it lie?’
‘Not far from here, Brother Saxon. You take the track north of our abbey, round the great bay you see before you, passing before the mountain range you find rising to your right. The road runs westwards and is straight and narrow. At high tide, on your left, you will see an island. It has no name but Inse.’ Eadulf knew this was the word signifying an island. ‘It is cut off at high tide but at low tide it becomes almost a peninsula, for the sand dunes stretch all the way to the grassy knoll on which the Tower of Uaman rises.’ The steward suddenly grasped Eadulf by the sleeve, tugging at it. ‘Come to our watchtower, Brother Saxon. Then you may see the Tower of Uaman in the distance.’
‘It is so near?’ asked Eadulf in surprise and some relief.
‘We may see it across the bay,’ replied the steward, ‘but it is a lengthy ride round the coast.’
Sure enough, from the top of the abbey’s tower, Eadulf could see across the grey waters of the bay what seemed to be a black tower in the distance, just visible against the darkness of the mountains behind. From that angle, it looked as if the tower was set on the mainland on the northern side of the bay.
‘It doesn’t look so impregnable to me,’ he remarked.
The steward shook his head quickly.
‘Do not be misled, Brother Saxon. The stretch of sand that links it to the mainland appears to be firm enough when the tide is out but there are beo-gainneamh to beware of. An entire army can disappear.’
Eadulf did not understand and said so. ‘Do you mean reeds?’
The steward shook his head. ‘Gainneamh’ he repeated.
‘Ah, sand,’ Eadulf corrected himself, now recognising the word. ‘But beo-gainneamh! That means living sand?’
The steward nodded. It took Eadulf a few moments to realise this must mean quicksand. He shivered slightly.
‘Even with the tide out, the tower is dangerous to approach. It is a natural fortification. And when the tide comes in, it comes in so rapidly that treacherous waters can cover the entire sandy link from mainland to island in moments. Indeed, the chief of the Corco Duibhne tried to assault the tower once and lost a dozen men in one attempt.’
‘Well, I don’t intend to attack him, only seek him out to demand information leading to the return of my child.’
The steward raised his eyebrows.
‘You do not demand from Uaman. You avoid him. You say that you want to ask him to return your child? In that case, get Colgú to raise a massive army — that is the only way that Uaman will return anything that is not his.’
Eadulf shook his head. ‘I appreciate your warning, Brother Steward. But perhaps he does not realise whose child it is? Why would such a man want to keep a baby? And sometimes a single man speaking with the tongue of logic can encompass what an army will fail to do.’
‘I will pray for you, Brother Saxon, as I have prayed for the other brothers of the Faith who have preceded you.’
Eadulf raised his brows in surprise.
‘Other brothers of the Faith? What do you mean?’
‘A week or so ago there was a brother from Ulaidh travelling with a strange brother from some distant land. I think he was a Greek. They came here asking, as you have done, for Uaman. I told them where they could find him and they went on their way. They promised to return within a few days. They have not.’
Eadulf rubbed his temple. ‘I have heard of these brothers upon the road. What would they want with Uaman?’
The steward shrugged expressively. ‘The stranger did not speak our language well but his companion told me that he was a healer from the east who had been visiting our shores and specialised in the scourge under which Uaman suffered. A message had been sent to him to bring this healer to Uaman and a reward was promised should he alleviate his suffering.’
‘Perhaps they left by some other route?’
The steward smiled sadly. ‘They promised to come back this way for the stranger promised to instruct us in the ways of the Faith as practised in his country. I fear for them, truly I do.’
Eadulf thought for a moment and then smiled without humour.
‘Well, it seems that I shall have to be careful with this lord of the passes, this Uaman. I thank you for the information, Brother Steward. As a good friend of mine would say — praemonitus, praemunitus?’
‘Forewarned is forearmed,’ translated the steward, still serious. ‘Be so, Brother Saxon. Be forearmed and above all be careful.’
Fidelma stared at the three armed Uí Fidgente, disguising her growing horror as she realised that they must have killed the hostel keeper and his son. She tried to maintain a commanding demeanour.
‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded. ‘You are supposed to be heading for your own country so that your friends will release my son.’
Cuirgí gave a short bark of laughter. ‘You don’t think we fell for that trick, do you?’
Fidelma was genuinely puzzled. ‘Trick?’
‘Ransom notes and the like. A ruse, that’s all, to get us out of your brother’s protection so that some of his supporters can waylay us on the road and slaughter us. That would solve a problem for your brother, wouldn’t it?’
Fidelma’s eyes widened at the fanciful suspicion.
‘But… but it is no trick. My son really has-’
Cuirgí cut her short.
‘Then what are you doing following us? We purposely took the path away from the Suir and the road to the land of the Uí Fidgente so that we would avoid ambush. We thought that we would conceal ourselves here until it was safe … but you must have been following us closely. Who else is with you?’
Fidelma was shaking her head in bewilderment.
‘I came here by accident. I did not follow you,’ she protested. ‘And the ransom demand is genuine. If you do not go back to the land of the Uí Fidgente, if you do not cross the border, your confederates will kill my son.’
‘Do you think we are fools? If this exchange — us for your son — were genuine then we would have been informed. It would have been easy enough to smuggle messages into our prison. This is some trick to lure us away and kill us.’
‘But, I tell you…’ She paused. Was there some other force at work here? Conrí had said he had been sent on behalf of the Uí Fidgente to disclaim all knowledge of the kidnap. She fell silent as she tried to reason out the possibilities.
Cuirgí glanced at his companions with triumph on his features.