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,’ Gaeth 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 Gaeth 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 Gaeth, 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.
Gaeth sighed deeply.
‘Well, unless Gaimredan 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 naomhog they did not make it ashore.’
‘If,’ pointed out Eadulf logically. ‘We don’t know that for certain.’
‘Let’s go back,’ Gaeth 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. Gaeth turned and paused.
‘Are there any animals on this island?’ asked Eadulf in a low voice.
‘None that I know of,’ Gaeth 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 Gaeth 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.
Gaeth 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 Gaeth 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 dalaigh?’
Fidelma nodded in the lamplight.
‘These are my companions, Brother Eadulf and Gaeth 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 naomhog. 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.’
Gaeth 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.’