‘How will you do that?’ Fidelma asked.
‘The Morvran stands ready. We will sail to the channel and await the Koulm ar Maro there. She has to pass through that narrow channel at the right time, when the tide is running from the Morbihan. My crew are men who are descended from the Veneti. We come from generations of sea-fighters.’ His voice was rock-steady. ‘We will be ready for them.’
‘You might call this the Little Sea, Bleidbara, but it is still large enough to lose a ship in, and all these islands are easy hiding-places,’ Eadulf commented.
‘I am familiar with these waters, friend. Now I know where the raider is going to be and what it intends to do, I can deal with the Koulm ar Maro.’
‘I want to come with you,’ Eadulf announced firmly, without looking at Fidelma. The truth was that his prime concern was that she might insist on accompanying Bleidbara on the Morvran herself. If there was to be a sea battle, then he determined that she should be out of harm’s way. ‘I would be useful if any of the Barnacle Goose survivors are still prisoners with them,’ he added, as if to find an excuse. ‘I would be able to recognise them.’
Bleidbara was suddenly in a good humour. As a warrior, he understood action and was happy now that he had something to do that he could understand.
‘You have courage, Eadulf,’ he praised him. ‘For a religious, you seem to have no qualms about throwing yourself into conflict.’
‘If it means tracking down these murderers, then I can bear such discomfort,’ Eadulf replied.
Fidelma reached out her hand and touched Eadulf on his arm, looking at him in silent approval. She understood why he had volunteered, and, if the truth were known, she felt he was right. Her place was to return to Brilhag, for that was where she knew she had to be, to resolve this mystery.
‘I’ll await your return at Brilhag,’ she told him.’
‘We will do our best to finally smoke out this evil among us,’ Bleidbara said, and glanced at the sky. The journey to Govihan and the search of the island had taken them some time. It was well into the afternoon now. ‘We have a long time to wait until dawn tomorrow. Let us return to the villa and see how Heraclius is proceeding. I will have need for him on board when we encounter the Koulm ar Maro. He will have to instruct someone who can nurse Iuna.’
Fidelma regarded him with surprise but he did not elucidate.
‘There seems little to do until you sail out to intercept the Koulm ar Maro now. Even if Iuna recovers, she will not be able to tell us what happened for a while,’ she said. ‘One thing is certain, she was steward to the household at Brilhag and knowledgeable about all foods. She would not have eaten Death Cap fungi in mistake for edible fungi. She was deliberately poisoned.’ She paused. ‘If my suspicion is correct, Brilhag is where we will find an answer to this mystery of the Koulm ar Maro. But you must bring me the final piece of this puzzle.’
‘You know who is behind these raids?’ Bleidbara asked.
‘I now suspect who is behind them and why. I need only one more piece to settle the resolution. But before I do so, it would be good to know that the Barnacle Goose is safe with the survivors of the crew and, of course, that Trifina is with them.’
Eadulf was astonished at her confidence.
‘If you already know who is behind the Koulm ar Maro and these raids and killings, don’t you feel that you should share this knowledge?’ he asked.
‘I said that I suspect…suspicion, even based on circumstantial evidence, is not enough for an accusation to be proven.’
‘Even so, a shared knowledge is a danger halved.’
‘True, but a single whisper, or a glance might betray our thoughts, Eadulf, and if they are betrayed by as much as the blink of an eye, I may lose my quarry.’
‘We can return you to Brilhag on the Morvran, lady,’ Bleidbara offered. ‘We will drop you off there tonight and then move on to an anchorage I know of, where we can wait until the hour before dawn. Then we can sail for the interception point to engage the raiders as they attempt to catch the tide out of Morbihan.’
‘Excellent,’ she approved. ‘I feel things are drawing towards a conclusion.’
Dusk had fallen when the Morvran finally anchored in the bay under the headland on which the fortress of Brilhag rose. It had taken longer than they expected because Bleidbara had insisted on loading a number of curious-looking sections of wood, set into frames with ropes and wheels. Neither Fidelma nor Eadulf had ever seen such wooden constructions as were hoisted onto the deck, and had no idea what they were. Canvas sheeting covered them as they were set up in the bows of the vessel. Bleidbara had claimed that the equipment was necessary to his task, and that the presence of Heraclius was essential. Fidelma took the view that Bleidbara knew his business and so did not bother him or Heraclius with unnecessary questions. The young apothecary from Constantinopolis supervised the loading, paying particular care to a sealed wooden case as it was cautiously taken into the hold. Bleidbara saw their curiosity but did not explain.
Heraclius reported that Iuna had been given the treatment, but only the next twelve hours would show whether she would respond to it. He had left her in the care of one of the female servants at the villa, together with explicit instructions on how she should be treated. At Fidelma’s insistence, a warrior was left with them for protection.
Now, as they dropped anchor before Brilhag, Bleidbara came to see Fidelma off in one of the ship’s boats.
‘We shall leave and anchor further down the coast so as to be ready just before dawn,’ he said gravely. ‘If all goes well, you will see our return here sometime tomorrow.’
‘I’ll be waiting,’ smiled Fidelma. ‘I wish you luck.’
‘We all need luck, lady. These people, whoever they are, will be eager to destroy any that are in their way. If you need help, seek out Boric. He is a good man to have at your side in time of danger. Tell him that I have placed him under your orders.’
Fidelma turned to Eadulf. ‘You look after yourself,’ she instructed softly. Then she climbed over the side into the boat. She was ferried to the shore by one of the ship’s company who left her on the quay and immediately rowed back to rejoin the Morvran.
Fidelma stood for a moment looking at the disappearing boat, heading out to the dark shape of Bleidbara’s ship. Then she turned up the pathway that led to the fortress, trying to adjust her vision to the darkness. She wished that she had had the foresight to bring a lamp but, almost as she thought it, the moon suddenly appeared from the bank of clouds and cast its blue glow over the area, revealing the man standing blocking the path a few paces in front of her.
Even with the moonlight, she could not make out any more than a few details. He was holding a shield, and a sword hung at his side. He challenged her in Breton and she guessed rather than knew the meaning of his words.
When she responded, assuming he was one of Boric’s guards, he moved forward and asked a further question, and this time she could not guess at its meaning.
‘Loquerisne linguam latinam?’ she asked hopefully,
The man shook his head, turned and shouted something. A moment later another man hurried down the path, surefooted in the darkness. The first man stiffened and spoke rapidly to him.
‘Who are you?’ demanded the second warrior in Latin.
Fidelma frowned. ‘Fidelma of Hibernia,’ she replied. This was probably the best form of announcing herself in a way that would be understood. ‘Where is Boric?’
The man did not answer, but his eyes focused on the darkness behind her and widened a little. He obviously saw the outline of the Morvran.