Fidelma felt the cabin beginning to rock and turn around her. She tried to still her racing thoughts, to rationalise the awesome dread which she felt choking her lungs. She staggered dizzily backwards and collapsed abruptly onto the bunk.
Chapter Three
‘Sister Fidelma! Are you all right?’
Ross’s anxious face was peering close to Fidelma’s as she opened her eyes. She blinked. She had not really passed out only … she blinked again and silently rebuked herself for showing weakness. However, the shock was real enough. What was this book, her parting gift to Brother Eadulf in Rome, now doing in the cabin of a deserted Gaulish merchant ship off the coast of Muman? She knew that Eadulf would not part with it so lightly. And if not, then he had been in this cabin. He had been a passenger on this merchant ship.
‘Sister Fidelma!’
Ross’s voice rose in agitation.
‘I am sorry,’ Fidelma replied slowly and cautiously stood up. Ross leaned forward to help her.
‘Did you feel giddy?’ queried the sailor.
She shook her head. She again rebuked herself sternly for such a display of emotion. Yet to deny the feeling would surely be a greater betrayal of herself? She had been fighting back her emotions ever since she had left Eadulf on the quay in Rome. He had been forced to stay in Rome as tutor to the Theodore of Tarsus, the newly appointed archbishop of Canterbury, while she had to return to her own land.
However, the year that had passed had been filled with memories of Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham and feelings of loneliness and longing, as if of a home sickness. She was home. She was in her own land among her own people again.Yet she missed Eadulf. She missed their arguments, the way she could tease Eadulf over their conflicting opinions and philosophies; the way he would always rise good-naturedly to the bait. Their arguments would rage but there was no enmity between them.
Eadulf had been trained in Ireland, at both Durrow and at Tuaim Brecain, before accepting the rulings of Rome on matters of the Faith and rejecting the Rule of Colmcille.
Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham had been the only man of her own age in whose company she had felt really at ease and able to express herself without hiding behind her rank and role in life, without being forced to adopt a persona much like an actor playing a part.
Now she began to realise that her feeling for Eadulf was stronger than mere friendship.
To discover the gift that she had given him abandoned on a deserted vessel off the coast of Ireland sent a riot of panic-stricken thoughts through her mind.
‘Ross, there is a mystery to this ship.’
Ross grimaced wryly.
‘I thought that we had already agreed on that matter.’
Fidelma thrust out the Missal which she still held in her hand.
‘This belonged to a friend of mine whom I left in Rome over a year ago. A close friend.’
Ross looked at it and scratched his head.
‘A coincidence?’ he offered hazily.
‘A coincidence, indeed,’ Fidelma agreed solemnly. ‘What could have happened to the people on this ship? I must find out. I must find out what happened to my friend.’
Ross look awkward.
‘We must get back aboard the barc, sister. The wind is coming up again.’
‘You intend to tow this ship to shore?’
‘I do.’
‘Then I will make a closer search of her when we are in sheltered waters. What point are you making for?’
Ross rubbed his chin.
‘Why, the nearest harbour is the very place I was taking you to, sister. To the community of The Salmon of the Three Wells.’
Fidelma let out a low breath. Her discovery had caused her to momentarily forget why she was in passage with Ross in the first place. Yesterday morning the abbot of Ros Ailithir, with whom she had been staying, had received a message from the abbess of The Salmon of the Three Wells, a small community of religieuses perched at the end of one of the far western peninsulas of Muman. An unidentified body had been discovered there and it was feared that it might be that of a female member of the Faith, though there was little means of recognition. The head of the body was missing. The abbess sought the assistance of a Brehon, an officer of the law courts of the five kingdoms, to help her solve the mystery of the identity of the corpse and discover who was responsible for its death.
The community came under the jurisdiction of the Abbot Brocc of Ros Ailithir and he had asked Fidelma if she were willing to undertake the investigation. The community of The Salmon of the Three Wells was but a day’s sailing along the rugged coastline and therefore Fidelma had sought passage in the barc of Ross.
The discovery of the deserted Gaulish merchant ship and the book satchel, containing her parting gift to Brother Eadulf, had caused all thoughts of the reason for her journey to be driven momentarily from her mind.
‘Sister,’ insisted Ross, in agitation, ‘we must return to the barc.’
Unwillingly, she agreed, replacing the Missal back into the leather satchel and swinging it over her shoulder.
Ross’s men had fastened lines from the bow of the Gaulish ship to the stern of their smaller vessel and two men were leftaboard her, the steersman, Odar, and another man, while Ross and Fidelma accompanied the others to the deck of the Foracha.
Fidelma’s mind was preoccupied as Ross issued instructions to ease his ship away from the bigger vessel and turn before the wind. Soon the tow lines grew taut and the smaller craft began to make way with the larger ship, clawing through the choppy seas, after her. The wind was up again and there was no doubt that had Ross not intervened then the Gaulish ship would have already foundered on the hidden rocks and reefs that lay nearby.
Ross kept an anxious eye on the straining ropes and the wallowing vessel behind them. Odar was an expert steersman and skilfully kept the bigger ship on course. Ross then turned to judge his course for the coast. He was heading for one of the great bays between two south-westerly thrusting granite peninsulas, towards a large peninsula along which tall mountains ran, dominated by one distant high round dome that overpowered all other peaks. Before this peninsula rose the squat, bulbous shape of a large island and Ross ordered his helmsman to guide the barc towards the inlet between this island and the coast of the peninsula.
Fidelma had perched herself, with folded arms, against the stern rail, her head bowed in thought, oblivious to the approaching coast and its spectacular scenery. She also seemed oblivious to the pitch and toss of the barc as it was propelled before the winds tugging its prize after it.
‘We’ll soon be in sheltered waters,’ Ross informed her, feeling sympathy for the young religieuse for the distress which her discovery had caused showed plainly on her features.
‘Could it have been slavers?’ she suddenly asked him without preamble.
Ross thought a moment. It was known that raiders, seeking slaves, often penetrated Irish waters, sometimesattacking coastal villages or fishing boats and carrying off inhabitants to be sold in the slave markets of the Saxon kingdoms or even further afield in Iberia, Frankia and Germania.
‘Perhaps slavers might have attacked the merchant ship and carried everyone off?’ Fidelma pressed as he hesitated.
Ross made a negative gesture of his head.
‘Forgive me, sister, but I do not think so. If, as you say, a slaver had captured the merchant ship, then why not simply put a prize crew on board her and sail her back to their home port? Why remove the crew and, what is more curious, why remove the cargo leaving the ship behind? They would get as much, if not more money, for the ship as for its crew and cargo.’
Fidelma saw that Ross’s logic was right. Indeed, why leave the ship so neat and comparatively tidy? She sighed deeply as no immediate answers came to the innumerable questions which hammered in her mind.