Brother Metellus was looking at Fidelma. His eyes were troubled.
‘There is vengeance on your face, Fidelma of Cashel,’ he observed softly.
Fidelma’s brows came together, and reading the danger signs, Eadulf jumped in with: ‘Fidelma is highly regarded as a dálaigh, an advocate of the courts of the Five Kingdoms of Éireann, my friend. She is consulted frequently by kings and abbots. Even now we were on our way back to the Kingdom of Muman after attending a Council in Burgundia to advise the prelates there in law at their request. It is not vengeance you will observe, but a desire for justice.’
But Brother Metellus did not seem impressed. ‘Sometimes justice can be used to mean vengeance,’ he said.
Fidelma’s lips thinned in annoyance. ‘I took an oath to uphold the law and to bring to justice those who transgress it. It is true that this act of cold-blooded murder was against my own cousin, Bressal of Cashel, and against my friend, Murchad of Aird Mhór, but it is still justice, not vengeance, that cries out for this captain and his crew to be tracked down.’
Brother Metellus shrugged as if he would dismiss the matter from his mind.
‘Surely, Brother Metellus, your people have a similar law system to that used in the Five Kingdoms of Éireann?’ Eadulf asked. ‘Therefore, if the murderer is caught, would they not be brought before that same justice?’
‘I am not a Breton,’ the religious confessed, ‘but I have no quarrel with law and justice. So long as it is clear that justice is the purpose of seeking the perpetrator of this act.’
Fidelma held his dark eyes steadily. There was a flicker of green fire in her own eyes.
‘That is my purpose,’ she said tightly. ‘But if you are not a Breton, where are you from?’
‘I was born and raised in Rome,’ he replied.
Fidelma realised why there had been some reluctance to translate Lowenen’s remarks.
‘You are far from home,’ Eadulf observed.
‘This is my home now,’ Brother Metellus said quietly. There was a pause, then he had a quick exchange with Lowenen.
‘He wonders what you intend to do now,’ translated Brother Metellus.
‘There is nothing we can do,’ Fidelma answered, ‘until we find a way of reaching the mainland where we can find someone willing to transport us back to my brother’s kingdom. But for now we are destitute, having nothing save a few personal items and the clothes that we have borrowed from you.’
‘How far would this be to the nearest point on the mainland?’ asked Eadulf.
‘About twenty kilometres across the water, north from here, is the abbey of Gildas,’ Brother Metellus replied at once. ‘I am under the jurisdiction of the abbot there. Given a good wind, we would be able to make it in half a morning’s sail. I have done it several times. So, if you trust yourself once more to my small boat, I can take you in the morning. As you see,’ he gestured to the window, ‘the sky is darkening already, so it is too late to commence the trip today.’
‘I would not wish to burden you, Brother Metellus,’ Fidelma replied. ‘You have already done much for us. You have given us our lives when they might have been lost.’ She was a little confused because she was sure that the image of the dove had some significance for him that he was not imparting to them, but he had saved them from capture and death, and she was very grateful for that.
‘Is this not what we are in service to the Christ to do?’ Brother Metellus said, brushing aside her thanks. ‘Anyway, it is time that I visited the mainland again, for there are some supplies that I want from the abbey.’
He turned and rapidly addressed Lowenen again before continuing. ‘As you can see, I do not have room to shelter you here for the night, but Lowenen’s wife, Onenn, has a spare bed. It was her son’s. He was drowned last year while fishing off Beg Lagad. I presume that you…’He broke off awkwardly.
‘You may rest assured that we are husband and wife.’ Eadulf supplied the answer to his unasked question with some stiffness. ‘We are not of that sect who believe in the celibacy of all religious.’
‘I thought as much,’ agreed the Roman monk with a sigh. ‘As for myself, I believe in the teachings of the Blessed Benedict. Chastity is a declaration of our commitment to the Faith.’ Then he looked closely at Fidelma. ‘I noticed that you introduced yourself as Fidelma of Cashel rather than Sister Fidelma. And Brother Eadulf here says that you are an advocate of your law courts — can you be both things in your own land?’
Fidelma replied in a slightly defiant tone: ‘I am sister to Colgú, King of Muman, whose capital is at Cashel. It is one of the lands that make up the Five Kingdoms of Éireann, the land of my people. It is the largest of the Five Kingdoms,’ she added, almost proudly. From her past experience in Rome she had learned that it was best to maintain a slight arrogance with Romans. ‘My first commitment is to serve the law and my people. In our land, one can also serve both and still be in the religious.’
Brother Metellus bowed his head, hiding an amused expression on his features.
‘I am sure that I speak for our chieftain, Lowenen here, when I say that it is an honour to have you and Brother Eadulf as guests on this little island. Alas, I was but a poor shepherd on the slopes of Mount Sabatini until I decided to follow the path of Christ.’
Fidelma could not make up her mind whether the man was mocking her or not. Before she could decide, he had turned and translated to the old chieftain, who immediately rose and bowed to Fidelma, and spoke with some intensity.
‘He says that he is more than honoured to welcome a princess to his humble island. Whatever he has, is yours.’
Fidelma inclined her head to the old man, saying, ‘Tell him he has already given us enough and it is we who are honoured.’
Brother Metellus now rose to his feet.
‘There will be a feast tonight. Lowenen insists upon it. A feast to celebrate your coming to this island. It is the local custom of hospitality. But we will try to get away to the mainland just after first light. Go with Lowenen now and have some rest, and I will come to escort you to the feasting later.’
Although forewarned, when Brother Metellus came to collect them from the house of Lowenen and his wife, Onenn, neither Fidelma nor Eadulf were expecting the festivities that greeted them. They were led down a path between the stone cabins and onto a sandy strand where a large fire had been lit. In fact, there were several smaller fires along the shore. Beyond them the dark seas, now and then with a thin line of white showing where the waves were breaking, whispered and chattered over the rocks before sliding silently shoreward. Many people were crowded round the fires. Brother Metellus had told them that there were only about a hundred or so islanders, and it seemed every one of them was there.
‘Remember that the lives of these people are harsh,’ he explained, ‘so they seize any opportunity to celebrate and make merry.’
A few men were playing instruments, providing a musical background for a young man who was singing and amusing some of the younger folk who clapped their hands to the rhythm. The instruments were similar to those that Fidelma had seen in her own land, although one man was playing a set of pipes which had a higher pitch than those native to Muman.