Master of Souls (32 page)

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Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_NB_Fixed, #_rt_yes, #blt, #Clerical Sleuth, #Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery, #Medieval Ireland

BOOK: Master of Souls
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‘Do you have another lantern?’ asked Fidelma. ‘It would save time if
we split into two parties. One group to search here and the second to look at this cave you mention.’
Gáeth had, indeed, foreseen the need for a second storm lantern. They were of a type Eadulf knew was called
lespaire
, made from bronze, and probably the smith had fashioned them himself. They were filled with oil but what type Eadulf could only guess.
‘I will go with one party and Gáimredan will lead the other,’ Gáeth announced. ‘We both know the island and it will be best if both groups have a guide.’
Fidelma and Eadulf chose to go with Gáeth to the second cave while Conrí. and his men went with Gáimredan to make sure of the cave at the spot where they had landed.
Eadulf was still a little dizzy from the trip and found he had difficulty keeping his balance on the rocky earth. But the others did not notice in the darkness.
They moved south, passing the rising hill that marked the centre of the island. Eadulf noticed that there seemed to be some shadows on it, just visible against the night sky. They looked like buildings and he remarked upon this.
‘Ancient stones put up when our gods and goddesses were young,’ Gáeth replied shortly.
It was not long before they came to the second cave.
‘If they made it, then that would be the landing place, down there on those stones. Then they would shelter in the cave.’
‘Can we get down there?’ asked Fidelma dubiously.
‘There is a path here, cut by the ancients who built that.’ He jerked his thumb towards the solitary dark hill. ‘Follow me carefully and step where I do. It’s only a three-metre drop but the stones below are sharp.’
He began to descend to sea level by a series of ledges, to where a shelf of stones separated the cliff from the sea and led along to the cave entrance.
They had all reached this level in safety when Gáeth suddenly surprised them by letting out a soft oath and raised his lantern higher.
‘What is it?’ Fidelma whispered, trying to see what he was looking at. The smith pointed ahead.
‘Just there, see it?’
They moved forward. Eadulf could see the broken pieces of wood and torn strips of hide lying in the surf.
‘Do you think it is their canoe?’ Fidelma asked. ‘Could they have made it ashore?’
‘We will soon find out,’ said Gáeth, turning for the cave.
He led the way in, holding the lantern up before him. The cave was not large and it did not take long to discover that it was empty.
Gáeth sighed deeply.
‘Well, unless Gaimredán had better luck, there is nowhere else on this island that they could be.’
Fidelma pulled a face in the gloom.
‘So if that was the remains of the
naomhóg
they did not make it ashore.’
‘If,’ pointed out Eadulf logically. ‘We don’t know that for certain.’
‘Let’s go back,’ Gáeth said abruptly. ‘There is nothing here.’
They scrambled up to the top of the short cliff and began to move back across the island. They were skirting round the base of the small hill when Eadulf stared up towards the black shadows of the rocks on top. Something caught his eye and he came to a halt.
‘What is it?’ asked Fidelma as she nearly collided with him. Gáeth turned and paused.
‘Are there any animals on this island?’ asked Eadulf in a low voice.
‘None that I know of,’ Gáeth replied.
Suddenly, Eadulf was running up the slope in the darkness. It was only a short one, an incline rising three metres above where they had been standing. On top were several stone slabs. As he reached the top something launched itself at him. Hands grabbed him round the waist and he was knocked to the ground, falling so hard that his breath left him. A muscular body was on him, grasping at him, trying to pin him down. He was hard pressed to prevent himself being injured by the strong arms that searched for a hold round his neck.
He managed to cry out and the next thing he heard was Gáeth struggling with his assailant. Then Fidelma’s voice cried out.
Eadulf felt himself drifting into unconsciousness but then, mercifully, the pressure on his neck was released. He was coughing, gasping for breath, and the nausea came back with a vengeance. The weight of the person who had attacked him was gone. He sat up cautiously.
Gáeth was holding the lantern up and Fidelma was by his side.
Before them stood a tough-looking man, clad in the torn remnants of a religious robe, fists balled in a defensive attitude.
‘We mean you no harm, Brother,’ Fidelma was saying. She had been repeating it several times.
Eadulf retched again and Gáeth helped him to his feet.
‘Are you all right, Eadulf?’ Fidelma demanded, glancing at him.
He massaged his throat ruefully.
‘If surviving death by a fraction is being all right, then I am,’ he muttered as he turned to examine his attacker. The man stood arms and legs akimbo as if waiting for someone to attack him.
‘I presume that you are one of those who have escaped from Seanach’s Island?’ Fidelma asked.
‘You’ll not take me back there alive,’ returned the man in a curious accent.
‘We do not mean to,’ replied Fidelma. ‘We are here to rescue you.’
The man stepped back in surprise. ‘You do not mean to kill me?’
Fidelma’s voice was pacifying. ‘We heard of your escape and came in search of you. We are no more friends of those who held you as prisoner than you are. What happened to your companion? Are you the only survivor?’
From behind another of the stones a dark shadow slowly emerged. It was that of a woman.
‘I am Sister Easdan,’ she said slowly. ‘Who are you?’
‘I am Fidelma of Cashel. I came here in search of the killers of the Abbess Faife and to trace her companions.’
‘Fidelma of Cashel?’ The woman spoke slowly. ‘I have heard the name. Aren’t you a
dálaigh
?’
Fidelma nodded in the lamplight.
‘These are my companions, Brother Eadulf and Gáeth the smith. We have other friends further down by the shore.’
‘How did you trace us here?’ demanded Sister Easdan.
Fidelma made a dismissive gesture with her hand.
‘It is a long story, Sister Easdan. I presume that you are one of Abbess Faife’s companions from Ard Fhearta?’
‘I am.’
‘And this is Brother … ?’
The burly man was hesitant.
‘You can trust me,’ Fidelma said encouragingly.
‘My name is Esumaro,’ the man replied hesitantly. ‘I am … I was skipper of the
Sumerli,
a merchantman out of An Naoned.’
‘An Naoned?’ Eadulf frowned. ‘That is in Gaul.’
‘Was your ship wrecked near where you were taken prisoner?’ asked Fidelma.
‘It was - and that, too. is a long story.’ replied the Gaulish sailor grimly.
‘The men who held me prisoner destroyed my ship and killed my men. It was only by the quick thinking of Sister Easdan and her colleagues, who disguised me as one of them, that my life has been saved so far.’
‘We found him some way from the shore.’ Sister Easdan joined in. ‘And then the raiders rode down on us, killed Abbess Faife, and took us away as prisoners.’
‘We heard that you had seized a canoe and escaped,’ said Fidelma. ‘You were seen making for this island. It was thought your boat was leaking and that you might not make it here. But your captors plan to come at first light to make certain.’
Esumaro made an angry hissing sound between his teeth.
‘We nearly didn’t make it because the boat was damaged. It was thanks to Sister Easdan here that we managed.’
‘There was nothing else to do,’ the girl said simply. ‘Water was coming into the stern through a hole. I was wearing a leather apron and I used a knife to puncture the leather then tied it to the hide with little strips cut into thongs. My father was a fisherman and I have seen it done before on a
naomhóg
. It was simple and kept us afloat for long enough to reach here.’
‘It was impressive,’ the Gaulish sailor corrected with vehemence. ‘The leak would have sunk us within a short time. Sister Easdan worked with frozen fingers and waves cascading over her, struggling to tie a piece of leather over the hole. It was bravely done.’
Gáeth nodded appreciatively at their story.
‘How did you know where to land? Have you have sailed these waters before?’
‘I have sailed through these waters,’ affirmed Esumaro. ‘I have traded with the abbey of Ard Fhearta and know this coastline.’
‘So you knew where best to land on this island?’
Esumaro gave a bark of laughter.
‘Had I done so, my friend, I would not have lost the canoe that was our only hope of reaching the mainland. In trying to land on the island, I misjudged in the dark and the canoe broke up in the surf.’
‘You were lucky to come ashore then,’ observed Gáeth.
‘It was not without difficulty,’ agreed Sister Easdan with quiet humour.
There was a shout in the distance and a flicker of light. Esumaro started nervously.
‘What’s that?’
Fidelma calmed him. ‘That is the rest of our party, anxious for us. They probably heard the sounds of our struggle. I think it is best to get back to the mainland before light and you can tell us the main part of your story. Then we must form a plan to rescue the others.’
They rejoined Conrí, Gaimredán and the others. Some corma was drunk to put warmth into them and they ate some wheaten cakes, which Gáeth had kept dry in his leather bag. Then they clambered into the
naomhóg
and the oarsmen began to pull away from the island, heading out into the darkness back towards the mainland.
Eadulf tried to concentrate on analysing what this adventure meant. It was one way of trying to prevent the seasickness returning although he did not hold out much hope of it. He only prayed that he would not make an idiot of himself and vomit in front of everyone. Concentrate!
After Ganicca had described what had happened at his village, he suspected that Fidelma and Conrí. were now presuming that Uaman the Leper was still alive. That could not be. Eadulf was sure. He tried to recall the memory of how the leper had been sinking into the quicksand when the great wave had come sweeping in and Uaman was there no more. He would stake his life that Uaman had perished in spite of what everyone now thought.
Who was Olcán? Why would a group of men on a warship abduct a group of religious and imprison them on an island of hermits? Why would they kill them when they tried to escape? Why kill the Abbess Faife? Why would they also wreck a merchant ship from Gaul? They were questions that he realised could not be answered with the knowledge he had. He knew what Fidelma would say. Never try to make a deduction until you have sufficient knowledge. And how did this matter connect with the murder of the Venerable Cináed? Indeed, did it have any connection at all? Was it simply a coincidence?
On reflection, he believed that the young girl - what was her name? Sister Sinnchéne - had killed Cinaed. It was a classic tale of jealousy and rejection. Then he considered further. There was the Venerable Mac Faosma to consider. He hated Cinaed. That much was obvious. But would a scholar resort to killing a fellow scholar? Then there was the physician
Sister Uallann and … Uallann? He had heard that name recently from someone. Who?
He realised with abruptness that his mind was racing. There were too many possibilities. Fidelma was right. You could not make any deductions without sufficient knowledge. He was merely guessing.
The increasing noise of seabirds make him glance up. To his left he saw a headland and his heart leapt. Had they already reached the mainland ? The plaintive call of gulls was growing stronger, mingling with the crash of the surf, and he could see, by the pale light spreading in the eastern sky, a long low belt of sandy shore stretching away in a curve to the south.
They were back in Bréanainn’s bay.
He had heard much about the Blessed Bréanainn and his fabulous seven-year voyage out on the high seas. Well, the saintly man was welcome to such wanderings. Eadulf vowed he would never step on board ship again - not if he could help it. He had done enough sea travelling in his life. It was reassuring to see the mainland again. His spirits lifted and he sat back more comfortably.
It was not long before the
naomhóg
turned and went racing ashore with Gáeth and Gáimredan bringing it almost to the very spot they had set out from. And looking at the eastern sky Eadulf realised that they had set out when the sun had gone down in the west and now there was a light in the east. He was exhausted and wondered how Gáeth, his companion and the warriors who had taken the oars were able to stand.
With quiet instruction, Gáeth hid the oars at the top of the shore by some trees. Then the men lifted the
naomhóg
on their shoulders, balancing bottom upwards, and set off down the path to Loch Gile. Fidelma, Sister Easdan and Esumaro came behind while Eadulf was given the task of carrying Gáeth’s leather bag.

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