At least her next step was clear. She must have a longer talk with Sister Brónach.
She rose and began to walk along the seashore and up to the wooden jetty.
As she ascended the steps on to the quay she suddenly noticed a sail, white against the green and brown of the far hills which marked the opening to the inlet. She could hear a horn sounding across the little bay from the fortress of Adnár, obviously warning the occupants of the entrance of a ship into the inlet.
Fidelma raised her hand to shield the sun from her eyes and peered across the stretch of sparkling water.
Suddenly her heart began to beat more rapidly.
It was the Foracha, Ross’s barc, sailing swiftly and surely into the harbour.
All thoughts of Febal and even Draigen were gone from her mind. Now her thoughts were concentrated on what news Ross was bearing. Her mind was wholly concerned with the mystery of the Gaulish merchant ship and, more importantly, the beat of her heart was more for fear, fear of what news he might have about the fate of Brother Eadulf.
Chapter Twelve
Fidelma had almost reached the side of the barc before Ross’s crews had finished hauling down the sails. The boat that she had taken from the abbey’s quay had positively skimmed the waters as she had bent into the oars with a will. The bow of the boat was bumping into the side of the Foracha before she realised it and she was being helped over the side of the craft while a sailor made her boat fast with a rope.
Ross came forward with a smile of greeting.
‘What news?’ demanded Fidelma breathlessly even before greetings could be exchanged.
Ross motioned towards his cabin at the stern of the ship.
‘Let’s go and talk a while,’ he said, his facial expression changing to one of seriousness.
Fidelma had to contain her curiosity until they were seated in the cabin and Ross had offered her an earthenware vessel of cuirm, which she declined. He poured himself a measure and sipped slowly.
‘What news?’ she prompted again.
‘I have found the place where the Gaulish merchant ship was moored three nights ago.’
‘Is there any sign of Ead … the crew or the passengers?’ Fidelma demanded.
‘I must tell the story in order, sister. But there was no sign of anyone.’
Fidelma compressed her lips for a moment at the disappointment which she felt.
‘Tell me the story then, Ross. How did you discover what you did?’
‘As I said, before I left here, judging by the tides and winds, there were two likely places from where the Gaulish ship might have been blown. The first was over to the southeastern headland called the Sheep’s Head. That is where I sailed first. We sailed around but could find nothing out of the ordinary. We encountered some fishermen who said that they had been casting their nets in those waters all week and had seen nothing. So then I decided that we should go on to the second likely spot.’
‘Which was where?’
‘A place at the end of this very peninsula.’
‘Go on.’
‘At the end of the peninsula lies a long island, it is called Dóirse, which as you will know, means “The Gates”, because, in a way, it stands as the south-western gate to this land. We sailed around the island but could not see anything unusual. I have traded with the islanders several times and so I thought that I would put into the harbour there and see what gossip I could pick up. We landed and I asked my men to keep their ears open for any news about the Gaulish ship. We did not have to seek far.’
He paused and took a sip of his drink.
‘What did you learn?’ urged Fidelma.
‘The Gaulish ship had been moored in the harbour. But therein lay a curious story. Some strange warriors had sailed it in to the island’s harbour well after dusk on the evening before we encountered the ship on the high seas.’
‘Strange warriors? Gauls?’
Ross shook his head.
‘No. Warriors from the clan of the Ui Fidgenti.’
Fidelma hid her surprise.
‘They had with them a Gaulish prisoner, however.’
‘A single Gaulish prisoner? There was no sign of a Saxon monk?’ Fidelma felt a pang of disappointment.
‘No. The prisoner was apparently a Gaulish seaman. Being hospitable, the islanders invited the warriors ashore as it appeared they had no provisions on board. A single guard was left on board with the prisoner. The next morning, the people found that the ship had gone. It had sailed while the warriors were in a drunken slumber due to the islanders’ hospitality. The warrior who had been left on board the vessel was discovered floating in the harbour — dead.’
‘What did they discern from that?’
‘That the Gaulish prisoner had somehow escaped, overpowered the guard, thrown him overboard, and sailed the ship out of the harbour.’
‘A single man? Sail a big ship like that? Is that possible?’ Ross shrugged.
‘It is, if the man was knowledgeable and determined enough.’
‘What then?’
‘The warriors were angry and requisitioned some island ships to take them back across the sound to the mainland.’
Fidelma thought over the matter.
‘It is a strange story. The Gaulish merchant ship is sailed into the harbour of Dóirse by a band of warriors of the Ui Fidgenti with a single Gaulish sailor as their prisoner. The ship ties up. In the morning, it has disappeared with the Gaulish sailor. The warriors then cross back to this peninsula. Later that morning, towards midday, we encounter the ship under full sail and deserted.’
‘That is the story, strange or not.’
‘Can the information you picked up on the island — Dóirse, you called it — be trusted?’
‘The people can,’ confirmed Ross. ‘I have traded with them for years now. They are an independent people who do not regard themselves as under the rule of Gulban the Hawk-Eyed, though technically it is his territory. They hold allegiance to their own bó-aire. So they are not concerned with keeping the secrets of those on the mainland.’
‘Do you know whether the warriors of Ui Fidgenti gave any explanations to the local bó-aire about what they were doing with the Gaulish ship?’
‘There was some talk that it was trading with the mines on the mainland.’
Fidelma raised her head sharply.
‘Mines? Would those be copper mines?’
Ross glanced searchingly at her before nodding agreement.
‘Across from Dóirse, on the mainland, and in the next bay, there are several copper mines which are worked. They do a trade not only along the coast but with Gaul.’
Fidelma drummed her fingers on the table, frowning as she considered matters.
‘Remember the red clay-like mud in the hold of the Gaulish ship?’ she asked.
Ross inclined his head in an affirmative gesture.
‘I think that they were deposits from a copper mine or somewhere where copper is stored. I think the answer to this mystery might lie at the site of those copper mines. Yet I cannot understand why men of the Ui Fidgenti would be sailing the ship. Their clan territory is a long way to the north of here. Where were the men of Beara, of Gulban’s sept?’
‘I could sail back and make further efforts to gain information,’ offered Ross. ‘Or I could sail to the mines, pretending to trade, and see what can be found.’
Fidelma shook her head.
‘Too dangerous. There is some mystery here which is compounded by the fact that Torcán, the son of the prince of the Ui Fidgenti, is a guest at Adnár’s fortress.’
Ross’s eyes widened.
‘There is surely a connection?’
‘But a connection with what? I believe that this mystery may be fraught with dangers. If you sail back again then you might arouse suspicion. There is no need to put people on guard if we can avoid it. We must know what we aredealing with first. How far are these copper mines from here?’