The Dove of Death (22 page)

It was only then that Fidelma realised there was a large ship at anchor in the bay to which the men were now heading, two of them hauling at the oars as the boat bobbed its way over the waters. The ship was a large wooden sailing vessel. It was painted black from bow to stern with the exception of the jutting spar and bow timber. These were a deep orange in colour that made the vessel appear very sinister. Fidelma’s eyes rose to the
white flag flying from the masthead – a large white flag with the image of a bird on it…the image of a dove.

She gave a sharp intake of breath and was about to move forward to gain a better view when she was aware of a soft footfall behind her.

She pivoted round, rising automatically.

Trifina was standing regarding her with an amused expression. Behind her stood one of her guards, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.

Eadulf was feeling better. The young apothecary had been accurate in his prognosis. The shock of near death by drowning must have caused the reaction of the stupor that had come over him. Even his headache had gone, thanks to the potion that he had been given. He rose from the chair in front of the fire and took a swallow of water from the mug left on the table. The cold liquid refreshed his mouth, although he felt a distinct soreness in his chest and an ache in his stomach as if he had eaten bad food.

He had begun to feel frustrated by his inaction and moved to the window and gazed out on the western coastline of the island. The day seemed pleasant enough. In fact, there was little need of a fire at all for it was quite warm. He walked up and down for a few moments, realising that he was now in complete control of all his senses and movements.

Eadulf knew enough about the practice of the apothecary’s art to be aware that a warming cordial would do better for his chest than sipping fresh water. Deciding to go in search of the young apothecary or of the kitchens of the villa where he could make his own soothing concoction, he left the room and walked down the corridor until he found the stairway to the floor below. A young girl was hard at work scrubbing the stairs. Her head
was bent down to her work so she did not notice him until he reached the step above her.

When he asked where he might find the apothecary she started nervously.

He smiled reassuringly at her and asked again. It was clear that she did not understand Latin and he tried to drag from his memory a word from his sparse knowledge of the language of the Britons. No word came to mind.

‘
Culina
,’ he said again, using the Latin word for kitchen, and made motions implying drinking and eating.

The girl seemed to understand his mime and pointed down the stairs saying something in her language, repeating the word ‘
kegin
’ several times.

Eadulf thanked her and moved past her down the stairway to the lower corridor. The girl had pointed almost directly under the stairs and Eadulf saw a doorway which led into an ante-room lined with shelves. Immediately his senses were bombarded with a mixture of aromas, sweet-smelling herbs and spices combined with dried meats that hung from metal hooks from the ceiling. The room was like a narrow corridor through which he passed quickly and, opening a door at the far end, he entered into a courtyard. In the covered area on one side were three great clay brick ovens and places where a fire could be lit in such a manner that a pot could be placed on an iron arm over the flames. Pots and pans hung along the wall behind the ovens. In the centre of the courtyard was a well, obviously the source of the fresh water for cooking.

There seemed no one about but this was clearly the kitchen area. He thought it strange that there was no one attending to the preparation of food in such a large villa as this. The rooms along this side of the courtyard consisted of various storerooms and a few that were clearly occupied by the kitchen workers as
their personal quarters. He walked along, peering into each but there was no one around.

At the far corner, another open door led into what was clearly the dispensary. He was surprised that this was not closed and locked, but saw a key hanging from a hook just inside the door and presumed that the young apothecary had forgotten to lock up. Eadulf went in, examining the shelves. At one end there was a pile of moss in water, but a moss smelling strongly of the sea. Eadulf recognised it at once for it was a red alga that he knew was found along the western shores of Éireann among the sea-bathed rocks. That was just what he was looking for.

He reached forward and picked up some, smelling it to make sure it was the same plant.

‘What do you want?’

The sharp voice caused him to start. The youthful apothecary, who had attended him, was standing in the doorway. He was tall, with curly blue-black hair and dark eyes, with a swarthy face and a permanent furrow over his brows as though in constant thought.

‘I am looking for something that will relieve the soreness in the back of my throat and chest and the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach,’ replied Eadulf, trying to remember his name. ‘I think I have found it.’

The young man’s frown deepened as he glanced at the plant Eadulf held.

‘You appear to have a good knowledge of the healing qualities of plants and herbs,’ he observed suspiciously.

Eadulf confessed that he had studied the art in Tuaim Brecain, a great medical college of Éireann.

‘I have not heard of it. However, you have picked a wise choice in
pioka ruz
,’ the young man said, nodding to the moss he held. ‘It should settle your ailment.’

Eadulf tried to repeat the name and added: ‘It is called
carraigin
in the language of Hibernia.’

‘It is a good demulcent,’ confirmed the young man. ‘You know how to use it?’

‘If I can boil a little of the plant to produce a syrup…?’

‘There is no need. I was preparing such a mixture earlier this morning as it is also used to make sweet dishes. I make a jelly substance mixed with honey, which the lady Trifina especially likes. Come, I will give you some.’

The young man pointed to the bowl standing near to where Eadulf had picked up the moss. He took an empty dish and measured out several spoonfuls from the bowl.

‘There now, it is a syrupy taste that coats the throat and will also make its way to your stomach. Perhaps you would like a spoonful of honey to sweeten the taste more?’

Eadulf shook his head as he tried an experimental spoonful. As the familiar taste of what he knew as
carraigin
made contact with his tongue, he swallowed and felt its comforting contact with his throat.

‘What did you call this, my friend?’ he asked.

‘I know only the name in the language of the Bretons, which is
pioka ruz
. I hear that it is known by several other names in various parts of this country. It is a plant that is unknown in my land.’

‘But it grows along these shores?’

‘It does, indeed.’

Eadulf nodded appreciatively as he finished the bowl. ‘Ah, that should settle my stomach.’

‘You feel better?’

‘Better than when I was lifted from the sea,’ smiled Eadulf, trying to regain his sense of humour.

The young man nodded. ‘It was the worst place on this island to attempt a landing.’

‘My name is Eadulf, by the way.’ Eadulf decided to change the subject and introduce himself.

‘That I know,’ responded the young man.

‘And your name is…? I think I heard it spoken but have forgotten.’

‘Heraclius of Constantinopolis.’

‘And you are Greek then?’ Eadulf said. ‘You are further from home than I am.’

‘Indeed, I am,’ Heraclius said dryly. ‘My father, Callinicus, was of Heliopolis in the land of Phoenice. He had to flee from there before my birth when our armies were defeated at Yarmouk by Abu Ubaida ibn al-Jarral over thirty years ago.’

‘Alas, I know nothing of these names nor of that part of the world.’

‘Abu Ubaida commanded the great Muslim army and after our defeat at Yarmouk most of our people fled from Heliopolis leaving behind much booty for him. My father went to Constantinopolis to take service with the emperors of Byzantium.’

‘I have vaguely heard of these Muslims. When I was in Rome, I was told about them raiding the coastal towns,’ Eadulf said. ‘Was your father also an apothecary?’

The young man shook his head quickly.

‘No. He was an architect. He built some of the great buildings for which Heliopolis had been famous.’

‘But you became an apothecary?’

‘I did.’

‘How did you come here? It is a long way from your home.’

‘I decided to leave Constantinopolis to seek my fortune for there is a surfeit of apothecaries at home. I took ship with a merchant and travelled through the Middle Sea to Massilia. Finally, a year ago, I came to this country, this land they called Bro-Waroch, and took service with the noble family here. They appreciated my skills and so I stayed here.’

‘You are young to have made such a journey.’

The young man shrugged. ‘I am five and twenty years, but a youthful countenance is passed down in my family. Callinicus appears to be more my brother in appearance than my father.’ Eadulf had placed the age of the apothecary at around twenty years. Heraclius was examining him with interest. ‘Why did you give up the path to being a healer? You say that you have studied the art?’

‘I studied only that I might be of some assistance to my brethren, but not to spend my time in a dispensary,’ replied Eadulf.

‘Ah, yes. I forget that you are a religious. You are the companion of this Hibernian lady…’

‘She is my wife,’ Eadulf corrected him.

‘Ah.’ Heraclius nodded. ‘Then you do not follow this concept that all religious must be celibate and remain separate from one another, as does Abbot Maelcar? We, too, in the East, do not believe that all our religious should be celibate.’

‘I once thought I should follow that path,’ affirmed Eadulf. Then he frowned a little. ‘So you know Abbot Maelcar?’

‘While I prefer to follow my experiments here, I serve this family and often go to the mainland. I have met him and, I confess, I do not like him.’

Eadulf realised the passing of time and made a quick apology. ‘I must now find Fidelma. Have you seen her?’

‘I have not for a while. This part of the villa is usually the province of the attendants. I doubt she would come here.’

‘I am surprised the kitchens are deserted.’

‘Well, the villa is not expecting guests and so the lady Trifina has no need of many workers in her kitchens.’

‘This villa is run very much in Roman style, isn’t it?’ queried Eadulf, interested in what he had seen.

The young man seemed diffident.

‘I would not know,’ he said. ‘It seems a normal way of living to me.’

‘Of course. You are Greek. This way of life is not usual in the far west.’ Eadulf hesitated but he sensed the Greek was growing tired of his questions and so he decided not to press him further. ‘Well, Heraclius of Constantinopolis, I thank you for your help. Indeed, I should probably thank you for my life.’

‘The warriors who plucked you from the sea managed to make you vomit the seawater from your belly, otherwise you might have drowned. They should be thanked. I did but little.’

‘In that case,’ responded Eadulf, ‘I shall thank you for that little you did do. What was the name of the warrior who saved me?’

‘I am not sure. You will have to ask Bleidbara.’ Heraclius turned away before he saw the surprise on Eadulf’s features.

In deep thought, Eadulf left the apothecary and went out into the courtyard. Instead of exiting by the way he had come, he walked slowly around the far side of the rectangular court to examine the building which he realised was very Roman in structure and also old. Clearly, in the days of the empire of Rome this had been built to demonstrate the wealth of the owners. He also realised that this courtyard could not be the only one in the villa, for the main courtyard would be reserved for the convenience of Trifina and her guests. He wondered whether there was some way of reaching it without retracing his steps. There was a small door at the far side of the courtyard.

He tried the handle and found that it opened out onto a small and pleasant garden, filled with herbs and plants doubtless destined for the use of the cooks. It was walled and on the far side was yet another door. He crossed the garden and again he found that once the internal bolt had been withdrawn, the door opened easily. The first thing that struck him was the salt tang of the sea, and he found himself gazing across the open waters
to the eastern side of the island. But he was distracted immediately by a stronger, more curious smell. He noticed a small stone-built hut standing a little way from the outer walls of the villa and the smell seemed to permeate this building. It contrasted strongly with the balmy sea air.

Curiosity compelled Eadulf to walk towards the grey stone building. Then he heard a cry, a shout as if of warning, from below. He glanced down and caught sight of a small craft almost below him. It was a small sailing dinghy with its sail furled and one person standing up in it, gazing upwards towards him.

Eadulf started, his eyes widening as he recognised the features of larnbud.

At that moment, he began diving into a dark whirlpool; he had a split second of consciousness before the dive began, when the thought registered that someone had hit him on the back of the head.

‘Well, Sister Fidelma,’ Trifina was saying slowly. ‘You seem very interested in that ship?’

Fidelma’s mind raced for a plausible reason as to why she should be hiding behind some bushes watching Bleidbara’s departure. She decided that honesty was the best policy.

‘I was wondering why a warship – for its lines proclaim that it is no merchantman – should be anchored off this island,’ she said defensively.

Trifina gazed thoughtfully at her.

‘The ship is called the
Morvran
and it is in the service of my family,’ she said. ‘If you remember, it is the same ship that Bleidbara informed you that he was captain of the other night – the same ship that was anchored in the inlet below Brilhag. When I need to come here, this is the ship that transports me. There is nothing sinister about it.’

‘You did not tell me that Bleidbara was here,’ Fidelma remarked.

‘Why should I need to? I did mention that I would send one of my men back to Brilhag to inform them that you and Eadulf were here on this island with me. I have sent Bleidbara.’

Fidelma did not respond, her mind rapidly turning over the information.

Trifina saw her concentration.

‘Shall I tell you what you are thinking, Fidelma of Hibernia? You see the banner of my father that flies from the great mast? It bears an emblem of a dove, doesn’t it? I’ll lay a wager with you. When your own ship, the
Barnacle Goose
, was attacked, my wager is that the attacker bore the same emblem. You are now thinking that you have discovered the ship that attacked you. Am I not right in this assumption?’