‘I’ll tell you about him as we go,’ Gormán said. ‘We have half a day of daylight left. We should start out soon, otherwise we shall lose a day.’
‘If the man who observed the boat yesterday was correct, how are we to follow it?’ asked Eadulf. ‘They were seen on the far side of the river and going east along some tributary.’
‘It’s easy enough,’ Gormán assured him. ‘We ride back south across the bridge then ride east over rough ground, eventually reaching the tributary called the River Drise — that was where the boat was spotted. We can then proceed eastwards along it. We should be able to find out if they have left the river at any point.’
‘Very well.’ Fidelma was decisive. ‘Gormán, you and Enda get our horses saddled and ready.’
After the warriors left, Fidelma turned to Eadulf. He was looking thoughtful and she knew what was passing through his mind.
‘This is turning out to be more complicated than I expected, Eadulf. I must admit that I do not see any purpose to these seemingly unrelated matters — as yet. My instinct is that they are all connected.’
‘Would it help to run through the situation?’
‘Very well. We find a body near my brother’s palace. It seems to be that of an envoy from the Uí Máil Kings of Laigin. His killer has apparently ridden eastward in the direction of the Black Heath: there we lost his tracks. We start our search for clues, and are led to the chapel of Brother Ailgesach. He has had two visitors staying on the night of the murder, a man and a woman. The woman is said to be of noble appearance. They ride off early that morning.
‘We find Brother Ailgesach in a drunken stupor in the local tavern when we arrive. Then someone who claims to be his cousin Biasta arrives. He kills Brother Ailgesach and escapes northward. We try to follow and fall in with a poet named Torna. Abductors arriving from the river attack us. I am mistaken for the poet’s companion and am left for dead when the error is discovered. An innocent young boatman is killed. You are told that a religieux was waiting for them. Was it Brother Biasta? I now realise that it could not be, since I would have recognised his harsh whisper when I heard a voice tell the abductors that I was not the right woman. I am rescued by you, but Torna is taken into the Land of the Osraige. To get to Laigin from here you need to cross Osraige. Is there some connection with the killing of an envoy from Laigin? Have I missed anything?’
Eadulf grimaced. ‘Yes — what about the message that was found in Ailgesach’s cabin from an unknown person, saying that they would come to him there with evidence of some conspiracy? I am certain that Gelgéis recognised the name, Torna, when you spoke it. What is she hiding? Also, what about the fact that Brother Ailgesach was raving about the Whore of Babylon and these raiders from the west being led by someone who resembles the description in the Scriptures?’ Eadulf paused and asked: ‘Is that another thread?’
‘At the moment, it is a loose one,’ said Fidelma. ‘There are too many of these loose threads with no apparent connection that I can see at the moment.’
Gormán re-entered. ‘All is ready, lady. The horses have been watered and foddered. Shall I tell Gobán that we are going? He is at work in the forge.’
‘I will do so,’ Fidelma replied. ‘I want to make sure that he has not been put out by the hospitality that he has afforded us.’
Within the hour they were crossing the long wooden bridge that spanned the Suir south of Durlus Éile. Gormán rode in front, followed by Fidelma and Eadulf, with Enda bringing up the rear. They rode at a brisk pace, but not as fast as would quickly fatigue their horses, and soon encountered the smaller River Dríse where it flowed into the Suir.
Just beyond a slight bend after some thick woodland, the river narrowed a little and Gormán called on them to halt. He pointed. Someone was swimming in the waters and it seemed that the swimmer was making towards an empty boat that was caught in a log-jam about mid-stream. As they watched, the swimmer reached the boat and was apparently intent on loosening it.
‘Let’s give him assistance,’ Fidelma suggested, dismounting.
‘Careful,’ warned Eadulf. ‘He might be one of the abductors.’
‘There’s no one else about,’ replied Gormán, ‘so we stand in no danger.’
They walked their horses down to the bank and Gormán called to the swimmer, asking if he needed help. The man glanced back over his shoulder and waved acknowledgement. He was holding up the painter, the rope attached to the bow of the boat used for tying it, and was trying to ease the bow away from the logs which had held it fast. He began swimming back, and Gormán quickly stripped and entered the water to help him drag the vessel towards the bank. As they neared it the others lent a hand while Fidelma remained on the bank.
She averted her gaze until Gormán and the unknown swimmer had climbed out, secured the boat to a nearby tree stump and resumed some garments. The swimmer was a young man whose clothes placed him as a farmer.
‘Did you have an accident?’ she asked.
‘This is not my boat, lady,’ he replied, noting her dress and obvious rank. ‘I farm the land beyond this rise and when I came down just now in search of one of my sheep, I saw this boat caught in those logs. It looked a good boat and not damaged, so I thought I would swim out and try to free it.’
Gormán was rubbing his chin as he examined the boat. ‘It must have come adrift,’ he said. Then his eyes narrowed; a moment later he had climbed aboard and was extracting something from the stern planking.
‘What is it?’ asked Fidelma.
‘There are some blood splatters on the stern seat — and this.’ Gormán was holding up a tiny particle of material that he had spotted, caught on a splinter of wood.
Fidelma gasped and her hand went to her sleeve where there was the slight tear.
‘This must be the boat we are following,’ Eadulf said, stating the obvious.
It was not good news for Fidelma. ‘They have abandoned it — and they could have done so anywhere along the river, so that it drifted down and was caught in this log-jam.’
Eadulf smiled and shook his head. ‘Not so. They abandoned it here.’
‘What makes you say that?’ She felt irritated at his confidence.
Eadulf pointed to the river. ‘They were pulling upstream, against the current. If they abandoned it before this point, it would have been swept back downstream. So they came here, abandoned it and took to the land.’
She flushed slightly at having forgotten the flow of the river. However, she recovered her poise and said: ‘And why would they leave the boat at this point?’
‘Easy enough.’ Eadulf gestured at the log-jam in which the boat had been trapped. ‘That log-jam is so secure that even the current has not dislodged it. I think they came here but could not move beyond the logs. They might have been able to drag the boat out of the river and haul it around to the other side of the dam, but maybe that was too awkward for them with a prisoner to take care of and a man with a damaged hand.’
Fidelma smiled ruefully. There were times when she underestimated Eadulf’s capabilities at deduction.
‘I suppose you can’t tell us which bank they landed on and the direction that they went?’ she said in a sarcastic attempt to cover her own shortcomings.
Eadulf’s face was expressionless. ‘Yes, I can. They came ashore on this side of the river and started walking eastwards.’
Fidelma raised her eyebrows, wondering if he were exchanging sarcasm for sarcasm. But Enda, who had a reputation among the warriors of Cashel as an expert tracker, let out an exclamation of triumph.
‘Friend Eadulf is right, lady!’ he called. He indicated the ground. ‘Six men passed here, one dragging his feet reluctantly. They came ashore and began to move off across the land, taking that path eastwards.’
‘So now they are travelling on foot,’ Eadulf commented, ignoring Fidelma’s irritation. He neglected to say that he had spotted the footprints and made a guess, whereas Enda had provided the detail. ‘Is there anywhere near here where they can purchase horses?’