‘Hello, Adag,’ she greeted Aona’s young grandson. ‘Do you remember me?’
The boy nodded slowly.
Fidelma replaced the leather covering and secured the fastener. Then she moved away from the wagon.
‘You did not say what you were doing?’ The boy insisted.
‘No,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘I did not.’
‘You were looking for something.’ The boy sniffed in disapproval. ‘It is wrong to look through other people’s possessions.’
‘It is also wrong to steal other people’s possessions. I was just examining these wagons to see if everything belonged to the people who drove them. Now your grandfather said you can keep a secret. Can you?’
The boy regarded her with some scorn. ‘Of course I can.’
Fidelma looked solemnly at the small boy. ‘Your grandfather has told you not to breathe a word about the presence of my companions or myself to anyone. Especially not those men in the inn?’
The boy nodded solemnly. ‘You still have not told me what you were looking for in the wagons, Sister.’
Fidelma grew conspiratorial. ‘Those men in your grandfather’s tavern are robbers. That is why I was looking in their wagons. I was looking for proof. Your grandfather will tell you that I am a dálaigh as well as a Sister.’
The child’s eyes widened. As Fidelma thought, the boy responded more positively to being allowed into an adult secret than simply being told to mind his own business.
‘Do you want me to keep a watch on them, Sister?’
Fidelma was serious. ‘I think that you are the best person for the job. But do not let on to them that you suspect them of anything.’
‘Of course not,’ assured the boy.
‘Just watch them and come and tell me when they leave the tavern and in which direction they go. Do it stealthily, without them knowing.’
‘Whatever time they leave?’
‘Exactly. Whatever time.’
The boy grinned happily. ‘I shall not let you down, Sister. Now I must unsaddle your horses. My grandfather is making a meal for you and your friends.’
When Fidelma explained matters to Eadulf and Brother Mochta, Eadulf said: ‘Is it wise to involve the boy?’
Brother Mochta was a little fearful and added: ‘Are you sure the boy won’t betray himself?’
‘No.’ Fidelma was adamant. ‘He’s a smart lad. And I do need to know when Samradan and his wagons leave here.’
‘What did you mean by telling the boy that they are robbers’ asked Eadulf.
‘Because it is the truth,’ Fidelma assured him. ‘What did I find in the wagons? Tools for digging and bags of rocks. What does that say to you, Eadulf.’
The Saxon shook his head, mystified.
Fidelma was exasperated. ‘Rocks … ore … mining tools!’ she exploded the words like the crack of a whip. Eadulf caught on.
‘You mean, they were the ones mining the silver in the caves?’
‘Exactly. I have heard of metals being mined a little further south of here but I did not know there was a silver vein in these hills until we discovered it. But, whoever the vein belongs to, I am sure it does not belong to Samradan. He is mining illegally, according to the judgements given in the Senchus Mór.’
Brother Mochta whistled slightly. ‘Has Samradan anything to do with the rest of this puzzle?’ he asked.
‘That I don’t know,’ confessed Fidelma. ‘Anyway, our first priority now is to eat and then we will see what is to be done. I hope Aona hurries up with that food.’
It was just after dawn that Fidelma was dragged from her sleep by a hand shaking her. She came awake reluctantly, blinking at the eager face of young Adag above her.
‘What is it?’ she mumbled sleepily.
‘The robbers,’ hissed the boy. ‘They’ve gone.’
She was still sleepy. ‘Robbers?’
The child was impatient. ‘The men with the wagons.’
Fidelma was wide awake. ‘Oh. When did they go?’
‘About ten minutes ago. I awoke only because I heard the sound of their wagons on the stone of the road outside.’
Fidelma gazed across the room to where her two companions were still sleeping peacefully.
‘At least you were alert, Adag,’ she smiled. ‘We did not hear a thing here. Which way have they gone?’
‘They went off along the road to Cashel.’
‘Good. You have done well, Adag, and …’ She paused.
There came the sound of horses clattering into the yard outside. ‘Could they have come back?’ she asked Adag quickly.
Eadulf groaned in his sleep and turned over but did not wake, and at that moment Fidelma realised that the sounds were not those of pack animals nor of wagons being pulled. They were the shod hooves of warriors’ horses.
She quickly rose from her palliasse and went to the window, taking care to keep well back, and moved the corner of the sackcloth curtain aside.
Down in the yard were the shadows of seven horsemen. The inn light which had been burning all night, cast a faint and uneven glow. Nevertheless, she caught her breath as she saw the thin, bird-like features of Solam together with her cousin, Finguine. They wereaccompanied by four warriors. She could not make out the features of the seventh man. There had been only six men when she had last seen Finguine.
‘Adag,’ she whispered to the boy. ‘You’d better go down and see what they want. Answer them truthfully except do not tell them that we are here. On your life. Do you swear it?’
The boy nodded and went off to do as he was bid.
She returned to the window, peering through the chink in the sackcloth curtain. She could hear her cousin, Finguine, saying: ‘It is clear they are not here, Solam. It is not worthwhile rousing the innkeeper.’
‘Better to make sure than make an assumption which might be false,’ replied the Uí Fidgente lawyer.
‘Very well.’ He turned to one of his men. ‘Rouse the innkeeper and … no, wait. Someone is coming.’
Adag came out of the stable and Fidelma saw him approach the riders.
‘Can I help you, lords?’ he asked, his voice piping up proudly.
‘Who are you, boy?’ she heard Solam demand.
‘Adag, son of the innkeeper here.’
Eadulf groaned from his palliasse and Fidelma turned as he sat up.
‘What is …?’ he began.
She quickly put a finger to her lips.
The movement distracted her from the conversation below. She glanced back through the window and saw the boy pointing in the direction of the Cashel road.
‘You’ve been of great help, boy,’ Finguine was saying. ‘Here, catch!’
A coin flickered through the air.
Adag caught it deftly.
Finguine dug his heels into his horse and the whole band of them trotted out of the yard and away in the direction of Cashel. It was only then that she caught the features of the seventh rider as he passed momentarily in the light of the inn’s lamp. It was Nion, the bó-aire of Imleach.
Fidelma drew the curtain back and heaved a sigh.
‘What is going on?’ demanded Eadulf.
She glanced to where Brother Mochta was still sleeping and then to the stairs for Adag came pounding up with a smile on his face.
‘They rode off for Cashel, Sister,’ he said breathlessly.
‘What did they want?’
‘They wanted to know if there was anyone staying in the inn tonight.I said that there had been some men with wagons who had left on the Cashel road. But I did not say anything about you nor your friends. The horsemen thanked me and rode towards Cashel. They seemed very interested in the wagons.’
Eadulf was looking from the boy to her in bewilderment. Fidelma met his eye.
‘The horsemen were Finguine and Solam,’ she explained slowly. ‘They were accompanied by Nion.’
Chapter Twenty
The journey back to Cashel from the Well of Ara was uneventful. Surprisingly, there were no warriors guarding the bridge across the River Suir at the little fork of Gabhailín where Fidelma and Eadulf had been prevented from crossing some days before. However, when Fidelma thought the matter over, she realised that it would be logical for Gionga to remove his warriors once he learned that Fidelma had reached Imleach.