‘If Sillán is here, then at least we know Torna is here as well. Now we have to discover where he is and what the purpose is of this abbey.’
‘Anyway, we will have to leave tomorrow morning,’ Eadulf pointed out. ‘We can demand one night’s hospitality but we have no excuse to stay longer, especially if they are already suspicious of us.’
Fidelma nodded thoughtfully. ‘Well, before we take any further step, I am going to have my bath.’
As Fidelma entered the fothrucad, or bathing chamber, she found a young girl stoking the fire to keep the water hot. She stood up nervously and then, to Fidelma’s astonishment, she placed a finger to her lips, crossed to the door, peered out and shut it before turning to her.
‘Don’t be alarmed, lady. I mean you no harm.’
Fidelma’s body had tensed, ready for anything.
‘Who are you and what do you want?’ she demanded.
Once again, the girl raised a finger to her lips. She was no more than twenty years old, with curly black hair and pleasant features, except that they were now grimy with soot and the robes she was wearing were torn and ill-fitting.
‘My name is Ségnat, lady. You and your companions are in great danger here. You must leave as soon as possible.’
Fidelma felt the fear in the other’s shaking form.
‘So what are you doing in this place, Ségnat? In fact, what manner of place is it?’
‘I am a daer-fuidir, a hostage brought here when Cronán’s men captured me. I am of the Uí Duach, and I have been here for two years. Unless you escape, you too will remain here as a hostage — or even worse. This is the Fortress of Cronán.’
‘We realise that this is no abbey and we have been greeted with hostility, but so far no physical threats have been made to us. I have seen no sign of imminent danger.’
‘When I went to receive instructions from Sillán about preparing your baths, I heard him talking to his cousin Anfudán. It is their intention to lull you into a false sense of security in order to learn what you know about them and their plans. Then you will be made prisoners.’
‘What do you know of their plans?’
‘Lady, I am only a daer-fuidir — I am not privy to their secrets. I only know that they are evil.’
‘If we attempt to leave tomorrow, what then?’
‘They will either find an excuse to keep you here, or you will not be allowed to leave.’
‘Do you know where they are holding Torna?’ Fidelma asked.
To her surprise, the girl looked blankly at her. ‘I know of no one by that name.’
‘He was a captive brought back here yesterday.’
The girl thought a moment. ‘There is word that a prisoner was brought here yesterday, but no one is sure where he is being held. There are many secret places in this fortress.’
‘It was in search of him that we came,’ Fidelma told her. ‘Why does Cronán pretend this is an abbey and he an abbot?’
‘He has been trying to hide his activities from the Prince of Osraige, from Tuaim Snámha. But what his intentions are, we do not know.’ The girl grew more agitated. ‘You must escape before first light otherwise you will never be allowed to leave. There are several Uí Duach who are hostages here; they can show you a way to leave without being seen.’
Suspicion immediately came into Fidelma’s mind. ‘If you prisoners are able to do this, why have you not escaped yourselves?’
Ségnat’s face was grim. ‘Because if we do, Cronán has threatened to kill our relatives and friends. That is what keeps us here and praying for rescue from outside.’
Fidelma shook her head in disbelief. ‘He could not do that. It is unthinkable!’
The girl’s face became contorted. ‘He could and he has. A few months ago, one of our number did escape. Five of his friends, including his own cousins, were executed in Cronán’s rage.’
When Fidelma had recovered from the shock, she asked: ‘Did they recapture him?’
Ségnat shook her head.
‘What was his name?’ Fidelma asked.
‘He was a warrior of the Uí Duach called Tormeid. Please,’ she added, ‘time is pressing; they might get suspicious. You must escape. We can help.’
Fidelma thought for a moment and then sighed. ‘We must make an attempt to find this prisoner first. But even then I can’t see how we can escape. Say we managed to get beyond these walls, what then? In the middle of flat bog land without horses, how far would we get?’
To her surprise, the girl said, ‘You would have your horses with you. Cronán’s men are lazy and it is the daer-fuidir who are given the task of looking after the animals. The stables cannot hold all the horses; there is a passage to a paddock just outside the walls where the rest are kept. We have ensured that your horses have been taken there. Cronán’s men know we will look after them and won’t escape, after what happened to Tormeid’s cousins and friends. We will make certain that your horses are saddled and ready when the time comes.’
‘But what will happen to you if we escape?’ protested Fidelma.
‘Cronán wants to instil fear in us by threatening our friends and relatives whom he holds. You have no friends and relatives here and we will simply deny any knowledge of you.’
‘Did this Tormeid know that the price of his escape would be the death of others?’
Ségnat shook her head. ‘It was because Cronán’s own daughter escaped with him and was, so we heard, drowned during the flight, that he went berserk and did this terrible thing; then threatened us with the same punishment.’
‘He could do the same to you if we got away,’ Fidelma said.
‘Lady, we hear that you are the King’s sister. If you escape, then you can alert your brother to what is happening in this place. You are our only hope for the rescue of all our people.’
‘But how can we walk through the gates, even in the middle of the night?’
‘We will help you. There are many of us here who laboured to build this place. We were forced to do so for the Lord of Gleann an Ghuail.’
‘That is Cronán?’
Ségnat nodded. ‘He is Cronán, Lord of Gleann an Ghuail.’
‘For what purpose has this fortress been built?’
They heard a faint noise and the girl stiffened in terror, muttering, ‘I will contact you here, lady, after midnight. You must not let anyone know that you suspect anything. You must all be ready so that none of your party is left behind, otherwise they will surely be executed. You and your companions must be well away from here before first light.’
The solemn toll of a bell brought Brother Sillán to guide them to the evening meal. Fidelma had thought that she was past surprising, but then, instead of being led into an abbey refectory, they were taken into a small chamber which appeared to be Cronán’s private dining room. There was not even a token pretence that this was an abbey. She had already informed her companions of her conversation with Ségnat, but warned them not to express any surprise or suspicion at anything they saw.
A turf fire smouldered, sending out its aromatic heat, and candles and lamps flickered over the wooden platters and goblets that had been laid. Cronán was waiting for them at the table and gestured Fidelma to sit beside him. She noticed that there was no sign of Anfudán. Eadulf sat opposite while Gormán and Enda were shown seats at the end of the table. Sillán took a seat on Fidelma’s other side. Once all were in place, Cronán made a gesture to Sillán, who rang a hand-bell.
A dáilemain, or distributor of food, emerged through a side door carrying platters and began to serve the food. Fidelma noted that the abbey did not appear to stint itself on meat, fowl and fishes. A joint of lamb was placed on the table and the dáilemain, using the fingers of his left hand to hold it, dexterously cut off a large piece and brought it on to Fidelma’s platter. He repeated the performance, moving with the joint by each of them. Each diner held a knife in the right hand and used the fingers of the left as was custom. Fidelma wondered whether these servers were all daer-fuidir, just slaves in this curious fortress.