‘What ship is that?’ he demanded before she could speak again.
‘It is the Morvran, commanded by Bleidbara of-’
The man was already turning and shouting orders. Fidelma had an uneasy feeling.
‘Who are you?’ she asked. ‘Where is Boric, who commands the guard here?’
‘You will precede me to the fortress,’ snapped the man, his hand resting lightly on his sword.
With a sinking heart she suddenly realised that these were not the guards that had been left behind by Bleidbara. And now there was no way to warn Bleidbara. With her thoughts racing, she was forced to walk on, the warrior two paces behind her, his hand ready on his sword. She followed the path up to the gate in the outer wall and through the door that eventually led into the kitchen area of the fortress. Guards were placed at all the entrances.
Fidelma asked herself how the fortress of Brilhag had managed to fall into the hands of these men. They were well-clothed, well-armed and seemed highly disciplined. They were not as she had imagined the brigands of the Koulm ar Maro.
She was pushed firmly through the kitchens and finally into the familiar great hall.
Two men were standing before the fire, their features distorted by the flickering light. They looked up in surprise as Fidelma was ushered roughly into the room.
One of them — a tall, well-built man of over fifty, with long reddish hair and a beard, whose features seemed quite pleasant and handsome, took a step forward. His face seemed oddly familiar to Fidelma. His eyes were pale and she was not sure whether they were blue or grey. He was richly attired and wore a golden necklet and armbands.
‘Who are you, lady?’ he began.
Fidelma, angry with herself at being thus caught, replied angrily, ‘Who are you? And by what right do your men hold me prisoner?’
The man’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment at her fearless attitude. His companion, an elderly man with grey hair, chuckled as if witnessing a joke.
‘Lady,’ replied the tall man solemnly, ‘I am called Alain of Domnonia and am King of the Bretons. By this right, do I do all things. And now, please answer me: who are you?’
Another figure emerged from the shadows at the end of the hall, saying, ‘It is the stranger I told you of, Father. She is Fidelma of Hibernia.’
King Alain took a few rapid paces towards Fidelma with hands outstretched.
‘Fidelma of Hibernia — welcome! Riwanon and Budic have told me all about you, and how you came to be here. So I welcome you, but at the same time ask you to accept my sorrow for the suffering that you have been put through. Your Cousin Bressal had been an honoured guest at my court when we agreed a treaty between my people and your brother, the King of Muman. It grieves my heart to hear of his death and your distress. Where is your companion, Eadulf the Saxon?’
Instead of replying, Fidelma glanced towards Budic, who had perched himself with a grin on the table, with one leg swinging. It seemed his favourite posture. Then her eyes turned to the elderly man by the fire. His features, too, seemed familiar. Alain noticed her examination and smiled.
‘I crave your indulgence for not making the introduction. This is the mac’htiern of Brilhag, Lord Canao.’
The elderly man came forward, and Fidelma now realised why his features were familiar. There was the reflection of Macliau and of Trifina on them. Whereas Macliau’s features were weak, those of Canao, his father, were strong and held a quality of wisdom and maturity that seemed lacking in his son.
The lord of Brilhag held out his hand.
‘I have heard how you saved my son from the mob that would have killed him, and how you set off to find my missing daughter. What news of her?’
‘Alas, we have not found her,’ admitted Fidelma. ‘But we have some knowledge which might lead us to her.’
The warrior who had accompanied her now broke into a quick speech to the King. King Alain turned to Fidelma: ‘The captain of my guard says there is a ship in the inlet below and he is worried for our safety.’
‘You need not worry. The ship is the Morvran. Bleidbara is the commander of it. I have just landed from her. My companion Eadulf is still on board and they expect to continue the search for Lord Canao’s daughter at dawn. I also hope that they will be led to the survivors of the Barnacle Goose.’
Lord Canao nodded slowly in approval.
‘Bleidbara is a good man. That’s why I appointed him commander of my warriors. I am content, if he is in command still.’
Budic rose from his perch, saying, ‘You must tell us all the details, lady. But I would like to be in at the kill, to take revenge for the deaths that have taken place here. I will get a man to row me out to the Morvran.’
King Alain glanced at the young man and held up his hand to stay him. ‘Let us rather talk of the visitation of justice, my son, than of revenge.’
‘Budic of Domnonia,’ Fidelma whispered, gazing at the young man. ‘Then he is the son of your first wife who died from the Yellow Plague?’
A pained expression crossed the King’s features.
‘You are well informed, lady. Budic is my only offspring. His mother was my great companion and partner. I thought that I would never survive the grief when she died of the Yellow Plague. Thanks be to God, I found solace with Riwanon. It is beyond man’s expectation to find two great loves in one lifetime. But I have been truly blessed.’
‘With your permission, father, I will join Bleidbara,’ the young warrior requested.
King Alain shook his head. ‘I need you here, Budic. Bleidbara and his men are capable enough. I must have my guard commander at my side.’
Budic looked unhappy, but then acknowledged his father’s wish. King Alain spoke to Fidelma’s escort and the warrior saluted and left. The King turned back to her with a smile.
‘I have told him not to interfere with the Morvran.’
‘So, tell us, Fidelma, what is the plan of Bleidbara?’ Budic wanted to know.
Until her suspicions were confirmed, Fidelma felt it was best to say as little as possible. She chose her words carefully.
‘Bleidbara believes he knows where the raider, the Koulm ar Maro, might be. I am not sure where, as I do not know these waters you call the Morbihan. I believe it might be some eastern islet.’ She was deliberately misleading them.
‘Well, let us provide you with refreshments,’ announced King Alain. ‘And you may give us an account of your adventures. It sounds as if this will be a story told by our bards for many years.’
‘I would do so with pleasure, Alain. But the saga is not ended and I would advise you not to relax your guard too much.’ Fidelma spoke in a serious tone. ‘It is my belief that this mystery is quickly coming to its planned conclusion.’
‘Its planned conclusion?’ King Alain looked perplexed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘All I can say is that I will be able to tell you more tomorrow.’
‘The lady is being dramatic,’ Budic observed cynically. ‘What mystery are we talking of?’
The King held her eyes in a thoughtful gaze.
‘I have no need to ask if you are jesting, Fidelma. The gravity of what you say is in your expression. You suspect some conspiracy here?’
‘I do. I suggest that you should continue to take a special care. As I said, I am hoping that by the end of tomorrow, we shall know enough to present you with all the facts. But tonight, with Lord Canao’s permission — for I know of the proscription against weapons in this house — we should sleep arrectis auribus, with our bedchamber doors locked, and with trustworthy guards outside.’
‘Fidelma!’ At that moment, Riwanon came down the stairs and moved quickly towards her with a smile and both hands held out in welcome.