One of the children, it was the younger of the two black-haired boys again, gave a low moan and started to tremble. His brother spoke sharply but quietly to him.
"What ails him?" Cass demanded. He was standing the closest to the two boys, the younger one being seated on his horse.
"My brother thinks that we may be harmed if we go where there are grown-ups," the elder replied solemnly. "He is scared after what happened yesterday."
Cass smiled gently at the younger boy. "Have no fear, son. No one down there will harm you. It is a holy abbey. They will help you."
The elder whispered sharply to his young sibling again and then, turning, said to Cass: "He will be all right now."
All the children were showing signs of fatigue now; fatigue and agitation after their terrifying experience. In fact, they were all exhausted both physically as well as emotionally. The unease and restiveness of the cold night's halt had not refreshed them and they had experienced a hard trek that morning from the woods to the coast. Weariness showed on everyone's face.
"I had not realized that the abbey was so large," Fidelma observed brightly to Cass to instill some air of normality into the depressed company. However, it was also true that she was impressed by the vastness of the buildings which dominated the inlet.
"I am told that hundreds of proselytes study here," replied Cass indifferently.
The bell suddenly ceased its clamoring.
Fidelma motioned them forward again. She felt a passing unease because she had ignored the call to prayer. Time enough to stop and pray when she and her exhausted charges were safely under the protection of the walls of the abbey. She glanced anxiously toward Sister Eisten. The plump young woman seemed to be lost in melancholy thought. Fidelma put this down to the woman's shock at the death of the baby that morning. Soon after they had set out, she had lapsed into a malaise, a maudlin contemplation, and did not seem to be at all conscious of her surroundings. She walked automatically, her head bent downward, eyes on the ground, and made no response when spoken to. Fidelma had noticed that she did not even bother to raise her eyes when they had come within sight of Ros Ailithir, and heard the chiming of the bell. Yes; it was better to get the party to the abbey rather than halt to indulge in ritual prayers along the roadway.
As they neared the walls of the abbey, she became aware of a few religieux at work in the surrounding fields. They seemed to be cutting kale, presumably to feed cattle. A few curious glances were cast in their direction but, generally, the men bent diligently to their work in the cold, autumnal morning.
The gates of the abbey stood open. Fidelma frowned when she saw, hanging by the side of the gate, a writhe, or bundle of twisted branches of osiers and aspen. It struck a chord in her memory but she could not identify it. She was still trying to dredge her memory about the symbolism of the writhe when she had to turn her attention to a thickset, middle-aged man in the robes of a religieux who stood in the gateway waiting for them. Where his hair grew long from his tonsure, it was speckled gray. He looked a muscular man and his grim visage seemed a warning that he was not someone to trifle with.
"Bene vobis" he intoned in a deep baritone, making the ritual greeting.
"Deus vobiscum" Sister Fidelma responded automatically and then decided to dispense with the rest of the usual courtesies. "These children need food, warmth and rest," she said without further preamble, causing the man's eyes to widen in astonishment. "So does the Sister here. They have had a bad experience. I have to warn you that they have been exposed to the Yellow Plague so your physician needs to examine them immediately. Meanwhile, my companion and I wish to be taken to Abbot Brocc."
The man stuttered in his surprise that a young anchoress should utter so many orders before she had been ritually admitted to the hospitality of the abbey. His brows drew together and he opened his mouth to voice his protest.
Fidelma interrupted before he could speak.
"I am Fidelma from Cashel. The abbot should be expecting me," she added firmly.
The man stood with open mouth, gulping like a fish. Then he drew himself together as Fidelma swept by him, leading her charges through the gates. The monk turned and hurried after her, catching up with her as she entered the large stone-flagged courtyard beyond the gate.
"Sister Fidelma… we, that is…" He was clearly flustered at the abrupt manner of her entrance. "We have been expecting you this last day or so. We were warned… told… to expect you… I am Brother Conghus, the aistreoir of the abbey. What has happened? Who are these children?"
Fidelma turned to the doorkeeper and replied tersely: "Survivors from Rae na Serine which has been burnt by raiders."
The religieux stared from the pitiable children to the plump, young Sister Eisten. His eyes widened as he recognized her.
"Sister Eisten! What has happened?"
The young woman continued to stare moodily into space and did not acknowledge him.
The monk turned back to Fidelma, clearly disconcerted.
"Sister Eisten is known to us in this abbey. She ran a mission at Rae na Serine. Destroyed by raiders, you say?"
Fidelma inclined her head in brief acknowledgment.
"The village was attacked by a group of men led by someone called Intat. Only Sister Eisten and these children survived. I demand sanctuary for them."
"You also mentioned something about plague?" Brother Conghus seemed confused.
"I am told that the reason for this horrendous attack was that there was plague in the village. This is why I ask that the physician of the abbey be summoned. Do you fear the plague here?"
Brother Conghus shook his head.
"With God's help, most of us have discovered an immunity in this abbey. We have had four outbreaks of the pestilence during this last year but it has claimed only a few lives from the young scholars. We no longer have fear of the disease. I will get someone to take poor Sister Eisten and her charges to the hostel where they will be well taken care of."
He turned and waved a hand to a passing young novice. She was a tall girl, slightly broad in the shoulders with a carriage that seemed clumsy.
"Sister Necht, take this sister and the children to the hostel. Tell Brother Rumann to summon Brother Midach to examine them. Then see that they are fed and rested. I will speak with Midach shortly."
His orders were issued in a series of staccato bursts. Fidelma noticed that the young girl hesitated, staring in open-mouthed surprise as she seemed to recognize Eisten and the children. Then she seemed to make a conscious effort to pull herself together and hurried forward to shepherd the children and the plaintive, plump Eisten away. Brother Conghus, assured his orders were being obeyed, turned back to Fidelma.
"Brother Midach is our chief physician while Rumann is our steward. They will take care of Sister Eisten and the children," he explained unnecessarily. He pointed the way forward across the courtyard. "I will bring you to the abbot. Have you come directly from Cashel?"