Fidelma sat down on the stone bench in the quadrangle and looked around at the oppressive dark walls of the abbey.
‘A sad business, Eadulf. Truly sad.’
‘Will you come on to Seaxmund’s Ham, then?’ Eadulf suddenly asked. ‘You have not seen where I was born. Not that there is much to see. Poor Botulf is gone and he was the friend of my youth. Nor is there anyone left there whom I can call kin. Nevertheless, I would like to see the place as I am so close.’
Fidelma smiled softly at him.
‘Indeed, since we are so close, I will not refuse to come with you, Eadulf,’ she said quietly. ‘After all, it is your birthplace.’
‘And after that, what then?’ he asked hesitantly.
‘After that?’ The corners of Fidelma’s mouth turned downwards with a suggestion of her old humour. ‘I want to return to my brother’s kingdom. I want my baby to be born in Cashel.’