‘One of my men reported the incident to me,’ agreed Mugrón. ‘It happened just before nightfall. Two fisherman had snared the body in their nets. They rowed it to the shore.’
‘You appear to keep a careful watch on this ship. Did none of your crew see anything suspicious? No sign of the body being put into the sea from the rocks on that headland?’
‘Nothing was seen by us. We have little to do with the shoreexcept, with the approval of Salbach, we trade for fresh meat and vegetables with some of the local people.’
‘And the sister was never on board this ship?’
Mugrón’s face coloured with annoyance.
‘Sister Eisten was not on board this ship,’ he snapped. ‘Who claims that she was is a liar!’
Fidelma felt a sudden excitement at his response.
‘And how did you know her name was Eisten? I did not mention it.’ There was granite in her voice.
Mugrón blinked.
‘You …’
She interrupted him with a gesture.
‘Do not play games with me, Mugrón. How did you know her name? It is the truth that I want.’
Mugrón raised his arms in a helpless gesture.
‘Very well, the entire truth it shall be. But I have no wish to place my life and ship in danger. Let us keep this matter between us for the time being.’
‘There will be no danger so long as the truth is told,’ affirmed Fidelma.
Mugrón rose from his seat, went to the cabin door and called out the name, ‘Midnat’. He returned to his seat and an elderly, bearded man entered a moment later and raised his knuckles to his forehead. He was grizzled and tanned of face and his hair was a dirty, greying colour.
‘Tell the sister here your name and the position that you hold on this vessel. Then tell her what happened to you when you went ashore today.’
The elderly man turned to Fidelma and bobbed his head, drawing back his lips from toothless gums.
‘I am Midnat, lady. I am the cook for this vessel. I went ashore today to buy fresh vegetables and oats for the crew.’
‘At what time was this?’
‘Just as the bell for the midday meal was being struck at the abbey.’
‘Tell Sister Fidelma what happened,’ interrupted Mugrón. ‘Exactly as you told me.’
The old man glanced at him in surprise.
‘About the …?
‘Get on with it, man,’ snapped Mugrón. ‘Tell her everything.’
The old man raised a hand and wiped it over his mouth and chin.
‘Well, I am returning to my boat. I’ve bought the vegetables, you see. So, I am going back … well, this sister hails me and asks me whether my captain will be prepared to take two passengers on a voyage.’
‘She said two passengers?’ queried Fidelma. ‘What exactly did she say?’
‘Like that: “Hey, sailor, do you come from that ocean-going ship?” she says. I nods. “How much will your captain charge for the passage for two to Britain or Gaul?” Then I realise that she has mistaken me for someone off the Frankish ship yonder. The big merchant ship. She offers, she says, two screpall for the passage.’
Fidelma stared at him in astonishment.
‘The sister offered such valuable silver coins?’
Midnat nodded emphatically.
‘I says: “Would that I could take it, sister, but I am just the cook from the Laigin warship there. For passage out of this land you need to contact a sailor from the Frankish merchantman at anchor on the other side of the inlet.” No sooner have I said that, then she steps back with a hand to her mouth and eyes wide as if I am the devil incarnate. And she turns and runs away.’
The man paused and waited, watching Fidelma’s face.
‘Is that all?’ Fidelma was disappointed.
‘It was enough,’ confirmed Midnat.
‘She disappeared and you did not see her again?’
‘She runs off along the seashore. I returns to my ship. Thena short while ago, just as dusk is about to descend there’s a commotion. I goes on deck to see what it’s about. Not far off there’s a couple of local fishermen hauling a body out of the water. It’s this same sister that offers me the money for a passage.’
Fidelma glanced up sharply.
‘It was dusk, nearly dark. How could you be sure it was the same sister?’
‘There’s enough light,’ said the old cook, ‘and the body of the sister is wearing a curious cross around its neck. Distinctive enough for me to know that I have not seen another except worn by the sister who asks about the passage to Britain or Gaul.’
It was right enough, thought Fidelma. Eisten’s Roman cross was fairly distinctive in these parts. But she decided to make certain.
‘Curious? In what way?’
‘It’s a cross without a circle.’
‘Ah, you mean a Roman cross?’ Fidelma pressed.
‘I don’t know. If you say it is,’ replied the other diffidently. ‘But it’s large and ornate and with some jewels worth a king’s ransom encrusted on it.’
It was not surprising that the old sailor might mistake the semi-precious stones for jewels of great wealth. The identification, though tenuous, was enough to convince her of the accuracy of what the man had said.
‘That will be all, Midnat.’ Mugrón dismissed the sailor.
The old cook raised his knuckles to his forehead once more in a farewell salute and left the cabin.
‘Well?’ asked Mugrón, ‘does this testimony satisfy you?’
‘No, it doesn’t,’ Fidelma replied calmly. ‘For you still have not explained how you knew the actual name of this unfortunate woman.’
Mugrón shrugged dismissively.
‘Well, there is no great secret in that. I told you that we hadthe permission of Salbach to anchor here and pursue our distraint against Brocc of Ros Ailithir.’
Fidelma nodded.
‘When we came here just over a week ago, on instruction of our king’s Brehon we went straight to Salbach’s fortress at Cuan Dóir to ask his permission.’
‘And so?’ prompted Fidelma, not understanding where Mugrón was leading her.
‘At Cuan Dóir I was introduced to this Sister Eisten. When Midnat came to me and described this sister, with her strange crucifix, saying that it was the same sister who was seeking passage, I remembered the crucifix and her name.’
‘So you are sure that Sister Eisten was at Salbach’s fortress a week ago?’ Fidelma felt confused by the apparent ceaseless twists the path of this investigation kept taking.
‘Indeed. Cuan Dóir lies in the next bay, so not far from here. Why do you seem surprised that she would be there?’
Fidelma did not attempt an explanation.
‘There is one thing I would like you to do, Mugrón,’ she said to the captain of the Laigin warship. ‘That is, I want you to accompany me to the abbey and make sure that the body of Sister Eisten is the same person as the sister you saw at Salbach’s fortress. I want to be absolutely sure.’
Mugrón was hesitant.
‘Well, I suppose a trip ashore will be better than sitting on this tub buffeted by the seas. Yet I cannot understand what relevance the death of this tragic young woman has to do with the killing of Dacán? Surely that is the more important matter with which you should be concerned?’
He saw the look in Fidelma’s eye and raised a hand in placation.
‘Yes, yes, Sister Fidelma. I’ll come with you but you, as dálaigh, must ensure that no indignity will be done to me by any followers of the Abbot Brocc.’
‘That I can assure you,’ Fidelma confirmed.
‘Then it is agreed.’
‘There is another thing,’ Fidelma said, reaching forward to stay him as Mugrón prepared to rise to his feet.
‘Which is?’
‘You said that you were introduced to Sister Eisten. Why was that?’
‘It was while we were awaiting the arrival of Salbach in the feasting hall that I saw this young religieuse. I was interested in the cross she wore because it was not like the crucifixes worn by our native religious. I could get a good trade for such a cross in Laigin.’