Eadulf sat back shaking his head.
Conri. let out a long, deep breath.
‘It makes sense if Uaman the Leper still lives,’ he observed. ‘Now we know with whom we are dealing.’
Fidelma did not seem perturbed.
‘Esumaro, did any of the company, the warriors, ever address the man as Uaman?’
It was Sister Easdan who replied.
‘It was just as Esumaro said. The old man in the village seemed to recognise him. But Olcan was the only person who was allowed to address him. Olcan simply called him “master”.’
‘Master?’ echoed Fidelma. It was an odd form of address in the five kingdoms of Eireann for it meant more of a teacher, a spiritual guide and leader, than one of rank.
Sister Easdan nodded.
‘I think that he was an evil man for, at the village where we stopped at in the mountains, he ordered the warriors to fall on it and sack it. They killed many people.’
‘Do you know why?’
‘There seemed no reason that I could see,’ Esumaro replied. ‘It was done out of sheer ill-will.’
‘Where were you taken after that?’
‘We were marched north through the mountains until we came to the sea again,’ Esumaro continued. ‘I knew we had crossed the peninsula and had come to the broad bay with the port that lies not far from Ard Fhearta on the northern side. I had sailed several times into that bay.’
Sister Easdan reached forward and laid a hand on the Gaulish sailor’s arm.
‘But don’t forget that before we came to the bay, our party met that other ugly-looking warrior.’
Fidelma raised her head in interest.
‘What warrior was this?’
‘I don’t know,’ Sister Easdan replied. ‘But it was obvious that this man had been expecting us for he was waiting at a spot where there was a memorial stone, a large stone with a cross inscribed on it, not far from a river which we had forded.’
‘So you believe that the meeting had been arranged between your captors and this man?’
Sister Easdan nodded thoughtfully.
‘He was certainly waiting for us. He greeted Olcan like an old friend. We were halted and told to rest awhile. I saw Olcan draw the man aside to bring him to this man they called the “master”. They engaged in some conversation and then the master took a small bag from his saddlebag and
‘You seem to have a sharp eye, Sister Easdan,’ Eadulf commented. ‘Are you sure he went westwards’?’
‘Indeed, he did.’
Fidelma pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment.
‘Can you describe anything further about this man? You called him ugly.
“Ugly is the word I think of.’ replied Sister Easdan. ’He was a tall, burly-looking man. He had a mass of red curly hair and a beard. He also wore something I have never seen before. It was a… like a picture, painted on his arm. His right arm, I think.’
Fidelma leant forward quickly with a gasp of interest.
‘Do you know what sort of picture?’
‘I can’t be sure. Only that it was something wrapped round a sword. Creatures. I think.’
Fidelma sat back and glanced at Eadulf.
‘That is a description of Slebene’s tren-fher, his personal champion,’ he replied in answer to her unasked question.
‘This small bag that you say the “master” gave to this warrior… what did it look like to you?’
Sister Easdan paused and thought carefully.
‘Just a small bag, although the contents seemed heavy.’
‘Slebene is involved in this matter,’ Eadulf said. ‘This confirms it. Perhaps he is being paid by this man… the master.’
‘I think we can agree that Slebene has some involvement,’ Fidelma concurred. ‘His champion, whatever his name is, would not be acting on his own. He would do nothing without his chief’s permission. However, in law we cannot find a person guilty on such evidence. But the law will accept that there are grounds for suspicion.’
‘But if Slebene is involved in this matter, it would explain a lot,’ Eadulf pointed out.
‘That is true. But first we have to find out what this matter, as you call it, is. What is involved here?’ She turned back to Sister Easdan and Esumaro. ‘What happened next? What happened after this warrior rode off?’
Esumaro glanced at his companion as if seeking permission to continue with the story.
‘It was then that this person called the master also left us.’
‘He rode off in an easterly direction along the shore and we saw no more of him after that,’ added the girl.
‘He rode away alone? None of the warriors went with him?’ asked Eadulf.
‘None.’
‘And what did Olcan do then?’ queried Fidelma.
‘He and his men took us to a sandy shore. A short way out we saw a large warship at anchor,’ replied Esumaro. ‘The women and myself were rowed out to the warship. We were brought to an island, the Island of Seanach, as I later learnt, and taken ashore. There we found a dozen or so hermits who used to live on the island. They, too, were prisoners of these men.’
‘Was nothing said to you during this time about why you had been made captive? No reason was given for your capture?’
‘Our captives spoke not a word to us except to say “do this”, “do that” or to hit us if we moved too slowly. They told us nothing of who they were or what they wanted,’ explained Sister Easdan. ‘We learnt that when we reached the island.’
‘I see. Go on, then.’
‘With the hermits, there was not enough shelter for everyone and our captors set up tents for us behind the chapel. They gave us hardly any warmth or shelter. Nights were spent in freezing conditions and it was almost joy to be given work during the day. However, it could have been worse. The hermits had built a wall around their settlement and this enclosing wall had been made exceptionally strong — it was seven metres thick in places. That, at least, stopped the harsh winds from blowing us away.’
‘There were two small oratories in which the warriors used to sleep themselves. Some of their number remained on the ship,’ Esumaro added. ‘But there was always someone on guard over us to raise the alarm if we disobeyed. Olcan slept in a clochan, one of the small round stone huts near where the old hermits had their souterrain for storing food. There was always someone ensuring that we worked and did not slack.’
Eadulf was puzzled.
‘What work was there to do on that small island?’ he asked.
‘It was the reason why these men, these swine, were there,’ Esumaro replied bitterly. ‘We were brought there as slave labour to cut and polish stone.’
‘Cut and polish stone?’ Fidelma’s eyebrows arched.
Sister Easdan was apparently unaware of the surprise the announcement had caused.
‘That was the interesting point,’ she said. ‘How did these men know about us?’
Fidelma looked frankly bewildered.
‘I don’t understand.’
Sister Easdan realised that she had been assuming knowledge.
‘Did you not know that our task at Ard Fhearta was to cut and polish stones that were brought in to the abbey from other parts of the country? Abbess Faife had chosen us to go on the pilgrimage this year because we all worked in the jewellery workshop making necklaces and brooches for the abbey to trade.’
‘Ah.’ Fidelma suddenly realised what was meant by the word stone. ‘You mean that these stones were lec-logmar, precious stones that are cut to shape and engraved for personal ornaments…’
‘… or used by artists in their ornamental works. Red jasper, rose-coloured quartz, jet, amber, diorite…’
Fidelma’s eyes widened slowly in understanding.
‘So are you saying that all the religieuse that accompanied Abbess Faife had worked on cutting and polishing these stones in the abbey?’
‘Of course,’ Sister Easdan said. ‘Each year Abbess Faife chose certain groups to go on the pilgrimage. This year she had chosen us workers in stone.’
Fidelma peered accusingly at Conri.
‘No one told me that those abducted held any special position at the abbey,’ she commented in irritation.