Fidelma was reflective for a moment.
‘These observations are true,’ she finally said. ‘But having made them, is there something we can deduce from them?’
Eadulf and Conri exchanged a glance.
‘I am not sure that I understand,’ Eadulf ventured.
‘Why would Slebene behave in such a manner?’
‘Because he knows more than we think he does.’
‘Knows more about what?’
‘About whatever it was that happened during the abduction of the women,’ suggested Conri. ‘Perhaps there is more in the murder of my aunt and the disappearance of her companions than we can guess at.’
Fidelma grimaced ruefully.
‘Suspicion is one thing. But we know nothing and so can guess at nothing. The intention of this journey is to find facts so that we may discover the truth. To speculate on the motives of another, even when one is witness to bizarre behaviour, is not profitable, as I am always telling Eadulf.’
‘Well, I am happy that we have put Daingean behind us,’ Conri said firmly. ‘I shall instruct my men to keep a careful watch on our backs.’ He hesitated. ‘I have not thanked you, lady, for what you did at the feasting last night.’
Fidelma smiled.
‘I did nothing but demand the curath-mir by right of lineage.’
‘I realise that Slebene was deliberately challenging me. He wanted to pick a fight with me. I cannot believe that it was simply because he hates all Ui Fidgente. There was some other reason, of that I am sure, but what it was…’ He ended with a shrug.
They fell silent again as they rode on.
The whisper of the sea nearby was practically the only sound that broke the white snowscape through which they journeyed. Now and then came the harsh cry of birds and then the howl of a lonely wolf, causing cold fingers to touch at their backbones. But there was no sign of anyone following from Daingean or, indeed, anyone else on the road.
They journeyed leisurely, stopping at midday to prepare a hot broth, and they eventually halted just before nightfall at a coirceogach, one of the ancient deserted stone cabins that littered the mountainsides in this part of the world. With a fire lit, it was warm in these small dwellings. One of the two warriors took charge of the horses to ensure they were fed and watered, and made as warm and comfortable as possible. Everyone took turns in keeping watch through the night, but nothing untoward happened. There were no surprises and no signs of anyone with aggressive intent.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was nearly noon on the next day when they came within sight of the place that Eadulf had thought he would never see again, nor wished to. It was a spot that he remembered too well. For some time, as they had journeyed along the coastal road heading eastwards, the low-lying island of Uaman had been resolving from a dim outline to become sharp and distinct. So clear was it now that Eadulf could see the blackened walls of what had been the circular fortress where a few months ago he had been imprisoned. It was low tide when they approached the deceptive-looking stretch of sand dunes that linked the island to the mainland. The solid-looking sand did not deceive Eadulf. He knew that not only did it contain dangerous quicksand, but when the tide came in it would often bring a destructive wave two metres high that would catch the unwary and wash them to destruction. He had seen Uaman the Leper die that way, sucked into the quicksand and struggling as the wave engulfed him. Even now Eadulf shivered at the memory.
It was the warrior, Socht, who suddenly called out.
‘Look, lord Conri, down at the shoreline!’
They all followed the line of his extended hand.
There seemed to be a large amount of flotsam and jetsam along the shoreline, and pieces of timber, the unmistakable wreckage of a broken ship.
‘It is as Mugron told us,’ exclaimed Eadulf.
‘This is the wreckage we saw when we came to collect the body of Abbess Faife,’ Conri confirmed.
‘But, lord,’ interrupted Socht, ‘there are still bodies there. No one has been here to give them proper burial.’
It was true. Several decomposing bodies seemed caught up in the wreckage that lined the sandbank near the shore.
‘Should we recover them, lord?’ demanded the warrior.
‘Do not!’ snapped Eadulf harshly as the man began to urge his horse towards the shoreline and the treacherous sands.
They turned to look at him in curiosity.
‘I know this place,’ Eadulf said simply. ‘It is unsafe. There are quicksands there. Apart from that, even in these cold winter months, the rotting corpses will carry disease. Let us keep a reasonable distance.’
They sat on their horses viewing the scene.
‘We agreed before that a ship was driven on to the rocky shore further out on the island,’ Conri observed. ‘Those poor men must be part of the unfortunate crew who were drowned.’
Fidelma was peering round.
‘And where was Abbess Faife’s body found in relationship to this place?’ Conri pointed immediately.
‘See there! A short distance along the road and slightly up the mountainside.’
She could see the dim outline of the stone coirceogach.
‘I wonder whether there was any connection between the two events — the shipwreck and the abduction?’ she mused almost to herself.
‘What connection could there be, lady?’
‘I am wondering why no one has cleared the wreckage and the bodies. Eadulf reported a village nearby and the wreck must have been noticed.’ She frowned. ‘Eadulf, do you think you can remember your way across the sands to this island? I think we should make an attempt to search it, especially those blackened ruins.’
Eadulf was reluctant.
‘That was Uaman’s Tower. He is dead. What are you hoping to find there?’ he demanded.
She smiled patiently.
‘It would be good if we found the missing companions of Abbess Faife for a start,’ she said with soft irony.
Eadulf coloured a little.
‘It’s best if we leave our horses among those trees there.’ He had spotted the very place where Basil Nestorios and Gorman had camped on the night of the escape from Uaman’s fortress. ‘It will keep them out of the wind.’
They tethered their mounts where Eadulf suggested so that the horses had movement and were within reach of fodder. Then Eadulf led the way down to the bank, searching his memory for the path across the shifting
The tide would not be at its flood until early evening. The sandbanks looked firm enough but he knew their treachery. Crabs scuttled about, following the waters, taking refuge in little pools, and here and there a sea bass or pollock had been caught unawares in these pools, splashing in search of its vanishing environment.
‘Follow me,’ he instructed the others, adding, ‘and when I say “follow” I mean follow closely in my footsteps.’
He climbed down from the bank on to the sand, which sank a little under his weight, water running over his feet. Then he began to move forward, traversing the sandy link to the rocky edge of the island proper and making his way up some stone-flagged steps to the grassy knoll on which the Tower of Uaman rose.
As they had seen, the great oak gates, reinforced by iron, hung open, one at an odd angle. There were some skeletons at the gate. They had been Uaman’s warriors, cut down by Gorman, their flesh picked clean by the scavenging birds that circled this shoreline. Eadulf had a curious feeling of satisfaction when he saw Conri and his two warriors loose and remove their swords from their sheaths and peer nervously around. At least he was not the only one who nursed a strange fear of this place.
They passed through the gates into the main courtyard.
‘Let us search quickly and depart,’ muttered Conri, glancing uneasily about him.
Fidelma smiled softly, understanding his feelings but not, apparently, sharing them.
‘Eadulf, where is the best place to start looking?’ she asked.