"Do you remember the other two boys who were with you when I found you?"
"I remember the baby," said one of the little girls gravely. Fidelma recalled that her name was Cera. "It went asleep and no one could wake it."
Fidelma bit her lip.
"That's right," she said encouragingly, "but it is the boys that I am interested in."
"They wouldn't play with us. Mean, spiteful boys! I didn't like them." The other little girl, Ciar, set her face sternly and sat with folded arms.
"Were they mean, those boys?" pressed Fidelma eagerly. "Who were they?"
"Just boys," replied Ciar petulantly. "Boys are all the same."
She gave a look of derision toward the little boy who ceased kicking at the log and sat down abruptly.
"Girls!" he sneered back.
"Remind me what your name is," Fidelma encouraged with a smile. She had recalled the girls' names but she could not remember what the boy had been called.
"Shan't say!" snapped the boy.
Aibnat clucked her tongue in disapproval.
"His name is Tressach," she supplied.
Fidelma continued to smile at the boy.
"Tressach? That name means 'fierce and war-like.' Are you fierce and war-like?"
The boy scowled and said nothing.
Fidelma forced her smile to broaden.
"Ah," she said, with a little sarcasm, "perhaps I misheard the name. Was it Tressach or Tassach? Tassach means idle, lazy, one who can't be bothered to speak. Tassach sounds more like you, doesn't it?"
The boy flushed indignantly.
"My name is Tressach!" he grunted. "I'm fierce and war-like. See, I already have my warrior's sword."
He drew the carved toy sword from his belt and held it up for her inspection.
"That is a fearsome weapon, indeed," Fidelma replied, attempting to sound solemn though her eyes were dancing with merriment. "And if you are, indeed, a warrior then you will know that warriors have to obey a code of honor. Do you know that?"
The boy stared at her in uncertainty, replacing the sword in his belt.
"What code?" he demanded suspiciously.
"You are a warrior, aren't you?" pressed Fidelma.
The boy nodded emphatically.
"Then a warrior is sworn to tell the truth. He has to be helpful. Now if I ask you about the boys named Cetach and Cosrach, you must tell me what you know. It is the code of honor. You were obviously named Tressach because you are a warrior and bound by that code."
The boy sat still seeming to ponder this and at last he smiled at Fidelma.
"I will tell."
She breathed a sigh of relief.
"Did you know Cetach and Cosrach well?"
Tressach grimaced.
"They wouldn't play with any of us."
"Any of you?" queried Fidelma, frowning.
"Any of the children in the village," supplied Ciar. "Boys!"
Tressach turned on her angrily but Fidelma interrupted.
"Didn't they come from the village?"
Tressach shook his head.
"They only came to our village a few weeks ago to live with Sister Eisten."
"Were they orphans?" demanded Fidelma eagerly.
The boy looked blankly at her.
"Did they have a mother or father?" pressed Fidelma.
"I think they had a father," the little girl named Cera chimed in.
"Why so, darling?" prompted Fidelma.
"She means that old, old man who used to come to the village to see them," supplied the boy.
"An old man?"
"Yes. The old man who brought those mean boys to Sister Eisten's house in the first place."
Fidelma leant forward eagerly.
"When was this, darling?"
"Oh, weeks ago."
"What did he look like?"
"He had a cross, like the one you're wearing, around his neck." Cera gave a look of triumph toward Tressach.
The boy grimaced in annoyance at her.
"Who was he?" Fidelma did not really expect the children to answer the question.
"He was a great scholar from Ros Ailithir," announced Tressach with an air of complacence.
Fidelma was astonished.
"How do you know this?" she asked.
" 'Cos Cosrach told me when I asked. Then his brother came up and told me to shut up and go away and if I told anyone about his aite he would hit me."
"His aite! He used that word?"
"I'm not making it up!" sniffed the boy petulantly.
Fidelma knew that the term of endearment, aite, was an intimate form of address for a father. But because, for centuries, young children in the five kingdoms of Eireann had been sent away for fosterage, to gain their education, the intimate words for "father" and "mother" were often
transferred to the foster-parents, so that the foster-mother would be addressed as "muimme" and the father as "aite."
"No, of course you are not making it up," Fidelma reassured him, many thoughts racing through her mind. "I believe you. And how would you describe this man?"
"He was nice looking," supplied Ciar. "He would not have hit us. He was always smiling at everyone."
"He looked like an old wizard!" declaimed Tressach, not to be outdone.
"He was not! He was a jolly old man," chimed in Cera, evidently fed up with being left out of the conversation for more than her fair share of time. "He used to tell us about the herbs and flowers and what they were good for."
"And this jolly old man came to visit Cetach and Cosrach often?"
"A few times. He visited Sister Eisten," Ciar corrected. "And it was me he told about herbs," she added. "He told me about, about…"
"He told everybody," replied Tressach scornfully. "And those boys were living at Sister Eisten's house, so visiting them was the same thing as visiting Sister Eisten! There!"
He stuck out his tongue at the little girl.
"Boys!" sneered Ciar. "Anyway, sometimes he brought another sister with him. But she was strange. She was not really like a sister!"
"Girls are so stupid!" grunted the young boy. "She was dressed like a sister."
Sister Afbnat caught Fidelma's eye. She obviously felt that the questioning had continued long enough.
Fidelma held up a hand to prevent the argument developing.
"All right now. Just one more thing… are you sure the man came from Ros Ailithir?"
Tressach nodded vehemently.
"That's what Cosrach told me when his brother threatened to punch me."
"And this sister who accompanied him? Can you describe her? What was she like?"
The boy shrugged disinterestedly.
"Just like a sister."
The children seemed to lose interest now and scampered away in the direction of the sister who was playing the reed pipe.
Fidelma, deep in thought, accompanied Aibnat back to where Molua had laid the table for their meal. Aibnat seemed totally bewildered by the conversation but did not question Fidelma further on the matter. Fidelma welcomed the silence as she turned the facts over in her mind. As they entered, Cass looked up and examined Fidelma's perplexed expression.
"Did you get the information you want?" he asked brightly.
Fidelma laughed dryly.
"I do not know what information I wanted," she responded. "But I have gathered another stone to build my cairn of knowledge. Yet one which does not make sense at the moment. No sense at all."
The meal which Aibnat and Molua provided was comparable to the feasts that Fidelma had enjoyed in many a feasting hall of kings. She had to force herself to eat sparingly for she realized that it was a ten-mile ride back to Ros Ailithir and riding on a full stomach was not good for the body. Cass, on the other hand, gave himself unchecked to the meal and accepted more of the heady cuirm spirit.
Aibnat quietly attended to their wants while her husband excused himself and disappeared to look after some mysterious errand.