‘But you said your luck deserted you. What happened?’
‘I did not know what cargo was being taken on board. But I noticed that as well as the crew there were many Franks who came aboard. I was speaking with one of them who was quite garrulous. They were, it seems, soldiers but soldiers of fortune, prepared to sell their services.’
‘Soldiers?’ Fidelma raised an eyebrow. ‘What would a Gaulish merchant ship be doing transporting Frankish soldiers to this corner of the five kingdoms?’
‘That was also my reaction,’ agreed Eadulf. ‘My Frankish friend was quite boastful of the amount of money he and his friends would be getting. I think he was more open with me because I was a Saxon. It turned out that they were not ordinary soldiers. They were specially trained in the use of artillery.’
Fidelma looked blank. The word, not existing in Irish, Eadulf had used the Latin word tormenta.
‘I do not understand military terms, Eadulf. Explain what this means. Surely a tormentum is an instrument for twisting or winding, a windlass, for example?’
‘It is also a military engine for discharging missiles,’ Eadulf explained. ‘The ancient Romans used them quite a lot in their wars. The ballistae was an engine for throwing stones and boulders, so was the catapulta.’
Fidelma shuddered.
‘Thank God such machines of destruction have never been used in Ireland. Here, when warriors fight, at least they stand and face each other with swords and shields, and often the battle has been resolved by single combat between one champion and another. Such machines are an abomination.’ She paused and then looked closely at Eadulf as the implication of what he had said suddenly dawned on her. ‘Do you mean …?’
‘Why import men trained in the art of using such machines as the tormenta unless they had those engines of destruction to work?’
‘Did the cargo contain these machines?’ Fidelma demanded.
‘After the Frankish soldier had become so garrulous, I decided to go down into the hold of the ship and see for myself. The hold was crammed with all manner of such engines of war. The main pieces were catapultae.’
‘What are they?’
‘Special machines which are drawn by horses into battle. A catapulta consists of a great bow mounted on a box on wheels, rather like a cart. It can fire javelins a distance of five hundred yards.’
Fidelma now recollected the large skein of gut she had found in the hold of the ship.
‘Is this large bow operated by gut?’
‘Yes. The bow is strung with skeins of hair or gut. The skein is winched into place by large wooden washers and secured by a wooden pin. It can be further tightened by hand spokes fitted into holes in the edge of washers. The skein is tightened and javelins placed ready. Sometimes these can be set alight for maximum damage. The skein is released by a simple mechanism.’
‘How many such machines did you see in the hold?’
‘Perhaps twenty, certainly no less. And there were about sixty Franks on the ship.’
‘What then?’
‘I was interested, naturally. But it was none of my business at that time.’
‘When did it become your business?’ Fidelma caught his emphasis.
‘As soon as we landed on this apparently hostile shore.’
‘Explain.’
‘The journey to the Irish coast was uneventful enough. We came into the harbour by the settlement. Then some young chieftain came aboard. I do not know who he was but he commanded the captain to unload. The Frankish soldiers disembarked and they oversaw the removal of their weapons. Under the eye of the warriors, slaves were brought aboard to do the heavy work of lifting the machines out of the hold.They were a dirty-looking lot, covered in mud. I later discovered that they usually worked in the copper mines.’
He paused and after a moment or two, to collect his thoughts, resumed.
‘Horses were provided on shore and they drew the engines away towards the caverns from where copper is excavated. Apparently the machines were to be hidden there. They are still there.’
‘How do you know this?’ asked Ross.
Eadulf allowed himself a bitter laugh.
‘I discovered it by being a fool. No sooner were the Frankish soldiers and their machines taken off the ship than warriors came on board and seized the entire crew and myself. We were told by this same young chieftain that we were all hostages.’
Chapter Fifteen
‘That defies all the laws of hospitality,’ Ross burst out indignantly. ‘It is outrageous. If merchants can’t trade without fear of being made slaves then the world has come to a sorry state.’
‘Outrageous wasn’t the word which the Gaulish captain used,’ Eadulf observed bitterly.
‘Wasn’t a resistance put up?’ asked Fidelma.
‘The surprise was total. While the young chieftain told us that we were now all his hostages, slaves would have been a better word. The crew were put to work in the copper mines but as I was a religieux, I was treated with more privileges than the others. I was taken to a cabin where I found Sister Comnat. I was outraged to find her manacled like an animal.’
Sister Comnat broke in for the first time since they had begun to talk.
‘Brother Eadulf is right. I had been their prisoner for nearly three weeks and more. Thanks be to God that you came, sister. I was hoping that Sister Almu had managed to find someone to help us.’
Fidelma held the elderly woman’s shaking hand comfortingly.
‘It was not Sister Almu who warned us.’
‘Then how did you come to find that place?’
‘Again, it is a long story and, at this moment, I am more concerned to know your story for much depends on my knowing. I understand, Sister Comnat, that you and SisterAlmu set out from the abbey of The Salmon of the Three Wells three weeks ago. What happened?’
The old librarian hesitated.
‘Do you know anything of Sister Almu’s whereabouts?’ she insisted.
Fidelma decided that she must be blunt.
‘I believe that Sister Almu is dead. I am sorry.’
The old woman was clearly shocked. She swayed a little and Brother Eadulf reached forward a hand to steady her.
‘You are among friends, good sister,’ Brother Eadulf reassured her. ‘This is an advocate of the courts. Fidelma of Kildare. I know her well. So do not be afraid. Tell her your story as you told it to me.’
The old woman managed to pull herself together though she was obviously distressed. She rubbed her forehead with a frail hand as if trying to dredge up the memory.
‘Fidelma of Kildare? The Fidelma who solved the mystery of the deaths at Ros Ailithir?’
‘Yes. I am Fidelma.’
‘Then you are sister to Colgú, king of Cashel. You must warn your brother. Warn him immediately.’ The old woman’s voice was suddenly strident and Fidelma had to place a placating hand on hers.
‘I do not understand. Of what must I warn him?’
‘His kingdom stands in danger. He must be warned,’ repeated Sister Comnat.
‘Let me understand fully; what has happened since you and Sister Almu set out from the abbey?’
Sister Comnat gathered her wits and took a deep breath.
‘Just over three weeks ago I set out with Sister Almu for the abbey of Ard Fhearta with a copy of a book which we had made for them. We reached as far as Gulban’s fortress. We were thinking to rest there for the night. We received hospitality there but the next morning we perceived that there were countless warriors in training around the fort. Moreover, we saw many strange warriors among them.
‘Sister Almu recognised Torcán of the Ui Fidgenti in the company of Gulban. We know that the Ui Fidgenti are no friends to the people of Loigde so we asked ourselves what could this mean. Almu found a young woman whom she had once known before she entered the abbey. This woman told us that Gulban had formed an alliance with Eoganán of the Ui Fidgenti.’