Fidelma was silent for a moment or two. Then she found Sister Étromma gazing at her speculatively.
‘Does that clarify matters for you?’
‘It helps,’ Fidelma conceded with a quick smile. ‘It helps a lot.’
Fidelma returned hurriedly to the inn where she had left Dego and Enda saddling the horses in preparation to go in search of the boatman.
‘Did you find out where he is?’ Enda greeted her as she entered the stables.
‘Not exactly. But we shall ride for Cam Eolaing for a start. It seems that Abbess Fainder is also looking for Gabrán and has gone ahead.’
‘Abbess Fainder?’ Dego was interested. ‘I wonder why she would be looking for Gabrán?’
Fidelma was thoughtful as she mounted her horse. However, she had no answer for him.
Eadulf felt trapped. He knew that the approaching boatman meant him no good. Some tension in the atmosphere communicated itself to Dalbach.
‘You know my cousin?’
‘I know that his name is Gabrán and he tried to kill me this morning.’
‘Oh, so it is Gabrán,’ Dalbach said. ‘He is not my cousin, though I know him. Gabrán is a merchant who sometimes passes by here. I do not understand why he should wish you harm, but I can tell that you fear him. Quick – you will find a ladder leading to the loft. Go up and hide – I will not betray you. Trust me. Do it now!’
Eadulf hesitated only a moment. He had no other choice. The foxy-faced boatman was almost at the door.
He grabbed his cloak from the back of the chair, setting it upright, and leapt for the ladder, scuttling up it. He knew his life now hung in the balance for the boatman was armed and he was defenceless.
He barely had time to stretch himself out on the wooden boards that constituted the floor of the loft, his head close to the hatch opening which gave him a view, albeit restricted, of the scene below, when the door of the cabin swung open.
‘A good day to you, Dalbach. It is I, Gabrán,’ the boatman called as he entered.
Dalbach moved towards him, hand outstretched.
‘Gabrán, it is some time since you have stopped by my cabin. Good day to you. Come and sample some of my mead and tell me what brings you here.’
‘That I will, gladly,’ replied the other.
The man moved out of Eadulf’s sight. He heard the noise of liquid being poured into an earthenware mug.
‘Health to you, Dalbach.’
‘Health, Gabrán.’
There was silence for a moment or so and then Gabrán smacked his lips in appreciation.
‘I was expecting to meet a fellow merchant close by here who was bringing me some goods from Rath Loirc. I don’t suppose you heard anything of strangers about here this morning?’ came his next question.
Eadulf tensed, unsure whether his new friend would betray him or not.
‘I have heard of no merchant here today,’ replied Dalbach evasively.
‘Well, I must return to my boat and send one of my men to search for him.’ He paused and seemed to reconsider. ‘Have any other strangers been this way? There is a hunt for an escaped Saxon murderer in these parts.’
‘A Saxon, you say?’
‘A murderer who escaped from my lord Coba’s fortress, killing the guard who tried to prevent him and knocking unconscious another. Coba had given the man sanctuary and this is how his kindness has been repaid.’
Eadulf ground his teeth at the easy lies that came to the man’s lips.
‘That sounds a terrible thing.’ Dalbach’s voice was soft.
‘Terrible it is. Coba has some men out searching for him. Well, as I say, I must return to my boat. If you do happen on my missing merchant … but you say that you have seen nobody?’
‘I have seen nobody,’ agreed Dalbach. Eadulf caught a note of solemn humour in his voice as he emphasised the word ‘seen’. The blind man was not lying.
‘Well, my thanks for the drink. I will send one of my men into the hills to find the missing merchant and my merchandise. If he does happen by here, tell him to wait for my man. I do not want to miss such valuable—’
The voice stopped abruptly. Eadulf, unable to see what was happening below, stiffened in alarm.
‘If no one has been here, why are there two bowls on the table … the remains of two meals?’ demanded Gabrán’s voice, edged with suspicion.
Eadulf gave a silent groan. He had forgotten the stew that he had been eating. The remains were in full sight on the table.
‘I did not say that no one has been here.’ Dalbach’s response was swift, assured. ‘I thought that you had merely meant strangers. No one whom I consider a stranger has been here.’
There was a tense pause. Then Gabrán seemed satisfied at the explanation.
‘Well, be warned. This Saxon may be glib of tongue but he is a killer.’
‘I heard the Saxon was a religious.’
‘Yes, but he raped and killed a young girl.’
‘God have mercy on his soul!’
‘God may have mercy but we will not when we have caught him,’ came the testy reply. ‘Good day, friend Dalbach.’
Eadulf saw the man move back into his line of vision and the door open.
‘May you have success in finding your merchant friend, Gabrán,’ Dalbach called. There was a muttered acknowledgement.
The door shut. Eadulf waited for a while and then eased himself up to his knees and moved across the floor to a small aperture. He saw the boatman, Gabrán, disappearing along the path into the woods. He suppressed a sigh of relief and returned to the ladder.
‘Has he gone?’ came Dalbach’s whisper.
‘He has,’ Eadulf called softly down. ‘I don’t know how to thank you for not giving me away. Why?’
‘Why?’ echoed Dalbach.
Eadulf moved down the ladder to stand beside him.
‘Why did you protect me? If this man Gabrán was your friend, why did you hide me from him? You heard what he had to say about me. I am a killer who apparently will stop at nothing to escape. Another man would feel threatened by my presence.’
‘Did you do the things he claimed you did?’ asked Dalbach abruptly.
‘No, but—’
‘Did you escape from Coba’s fortress and kill a guard, as he said?’
‘I knocked a bowman unconscious but I did not kill a guard. The man was trying to kill me. It was Gabrán himself who came and told me that I was free to leave. The moment I stepped beyond the walls of the fortress, he tried to shoot me down.’
Dalbach stood in silent thought for a moment or two. Then he reached out a hand and found Eadulf’s arm.
‘As I have said before, blindness does not rob men of their senses. Often, it causes other senses to awake. I told you that I trusted you, Brother Eadulf.’ His voice was serious. ‘As for Gabrán, perhaps “friend” was the wrong word to describe him. He is someone who travels through here now and then and calls to pass the time of day with me. I know him to be a merchant and sometimes he brings me gifts from friends. Now, be seated again, Brother Eadulf, and let us finish the meal and talk of your plan to return to Fearna.’
Eadulf reseated himself ‘My plan?’ he asked, his mind distracted by the appearance of Gabrán.
‘Before Gabrán turned up we were talking of your plan to get to Fearna and find your friend from Cashel,’ Dalbach reminded him.
‘Before we do so, I would like to know more of this man, Gabrán. You mentioned that he was a merchant?’
‘Yes, he is a trader. He has his own boat and moves freely along the river.’
‘I am sure that I once saw him in the abbey at Fearna.’
‘No doubt. He trades regularly with the abbey.’
‘But why did he come to Coba’s fortress to tell me that I was free to go? I thought he was one of Coba’s men.’
‘Perhaps the chieftain of Cam Eolaing paid him to pretend to release you and then shoot you down,’ offered Dalbach.
‘That could be what happe
ned,’ Eadulf said, having given the matter thought. ‘But why should Coba rescue me from the abbey in the first place if he merely wanted my death?’
‘Gabrán’s services are probably available to anyone who pays him, so maybe it was someone else. But that is a mystery which you must deal with. All I can tell you is that Gabrán is well-known along the river.’
‘You said that he often comes this way.’
‘I think that he must have family in the hills.’
Eadulf was interested in this deduction and said so.
‘He often returns from his visits into the hills with young women. I presume that they are his relatives accompanying him back to the river.’
‘You presume? Doesn’t he introduce them?’
‘He leaves them in the woods there when he comes to visit me, but I hear their voices at a distance. He stops for refreshment, you see – I always have mead on hand.’
‘They never come with him to your cabin?’
‘Never,’ Dalbach confirmed. ‘But what will you do about continuing your journey? Gabrán’s arrival makes me suggest that you should not delay. I realise that if, instead of Gabrán, it had been my cousin from Fearna then you might not have escaped attention.’
‘Perhaps it is wise not to stay longer than is necessary,’ agreed Eadulf.
‘Then you must take some clothes of mine and a hat to disguise you.’
‘You are kind, Dalbach.’
‘Not kind, although the sages tell us to have a kind look on another’s misery. I glean my own satisfaction from making a small stand for justice.’ He stood up. ‘Now come with me and I shall show you where I keep some spare clothing and you may make the choice for your journey. Have you thought how you will approach Fearna?’
‘How I will approach it?’
‘The route which you will take there. I am told that the Brehon Bishop Forbassach is clever. He may deduce that you will attempt to make contact with your friend, Sister Fidelma, and mount a watch for you along the road from Cam Eolaing. It would be best to go north, across the mountains, and then approach Fearna from the northerly road. They would never expect you to come from that direction.’
Eadulf considered for a moment or so. ‘It is a clever idea,’ he agreed. ‘It will be a cold night so do not attempt to stay on the mountains. There is a tiny sanctuary at the Church of the Blessed Brigid which lies on the southern slopes of the Yellow Mountain. Remember that place. The Father Superior, Brother Martan, is a kindly man. Mention my name and you will be given a warm bed and food.’
‘I shall remember that. You have been a good friend to a friendless soul, Dalbach.’
‘What is the cry — justitia omnibus. Justice for all or justice for no one,’ Dalbach replied.
The bright autumn morning, with its sharp frost and clear skies, had begun to turn into a more typical dull, cheerless day. Cold, grey-white stormclouds had blown up from the south-west foretelling rain to come. At first the clouds had appeared very high, wispy as a mare’s tail, developing into a lofty, milky sheet which, from Fidelma’s knowledge, meant that the rain would arrive in twelve hours or less.
Fidelma, with Dego and Enda, had ridden along the river path towards Cam Eolaing and once or twice they had paused to hail passing boatmen in order to seek news of Gabrán. It seemed that his boat, the Cág, had not been seen passing downriver and so it was logical to assume that it was still moored at Cam Eolaing.
Cam Eolaing was a curious junction of rivers and rivulets set in a valley. At the spot where most of these waters intersected, they spread almost into a lake through which there were a series of islands not really inhabited for they were low and marshy. To the north and to the south, rose hills guarding this valley. On the northern shore, on a strategically placed hill, stood a fortress dominating the area. Fidelma guessed that this was Coba’s fortress in which Eadulf had been given sanctuary on the previous day.
Beyond the lake, another ribbon of water flowed from the east, its origin shrouded among the rising hills. Cam Eolaing dominated the gateway through this hill countryside to the west. Below the fortress, mainly along the banks of the river, were several cabins, particularly along the north bank.
Fidelma indicated that they should halt for a while and Dego went to make enquiries about Gabrán and his boat from a blacksmith, who was engaged in preparing a fire in his forge as they approached. The brawny leather-jacketed man barely paused in his work but spoke gruffly and pointed across the river. Dego returned to them and explained.
‘Apparently Gabrán usually keeps his vessel moored on the south bank of the river, lady. He lives just over there.’
The river was broad here and unfordable.
‘We’ll have to find a boat to take us across,’ muttered Enda, pointing out the obvious.
Dego indicated along the bank to where there were several small boats drawn up.
‘The smith says that someone along there will row us across.’
The blacksmith was right. They soon found a woodcutter who offered to take them across for a small consideration. It was decided that Enda would remain with the horses while Dego would accompany Fidelma to find Gabrán.
They were already in midriver when the woodcutter glanced over his shoulder and paused in his rowing.
‘Gabrán is not there,’ he announced. ‘Do you still want to cross?’
Dego frowned sternly. ‘Not there? If you knew that, why did you embark on this journey?’
The woodcutter glanced at him pityingly. ‘I cannot see round corners, my fiery friend. It is only from here in midstream that I can see his moorings behind that islet. The Cág, that is his boat, is not at her moorings there. So Gabrán is not there. He lives on his boat, you see.’
Dego looked deflated at the explanation.
‘Nevertheless, we shall continue,’ insisted Fidelma. ‘I see that there are other cabins by those moorings and someone may know where he has gone.’
The woodcutter silently bent to his oars again. He landed them at the empty mooring, and pointed out a cabin which belonged to Gabrán, although he explained that the boatman never stayed in it. Fidelma made him promise to wait and row them back when they had concluded their business. There was no one at the cabin, but a passing woman carrying a bundle of sticks slung on her back, halted at the sight of them.
‘Are you seeking Gabrán, Sister?’ she asked respectfully.
‘I am.’
‘He does not live there, although the cabin is his. He prefers to spend all his time on his boat.’
‘I see. The fact that his boat is not here must mean that he is not here either?’
The woman agreed with her logic.
‘He was here earlier this morning but he cast off very early. There was some excitement at the chieftain’s fortress this morning.’
‘Was Gabrán involved in it?’
‘I doubt it; it was something to do with an escaped foreigner. Gabrán is more concerned with his profits than with what happens at the fortress of our chieftain.’
‘We were told that the Cág had not sailed downriver today.’
The woman indicated north with her head.
‘Then it went upriver. That’s common sense. Is something amiss that so many people are seeking Gabrán today?’
Fidelma had been turning away when she paused and glanced back at the woman.
‘So many people?’
‘Well, I do not know her name, but there was a grand religieuse here. She was making enquiries after Gabrán not long ago.’
‘Was it Abbess Fainder of Fearna?’
The woman shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know her. I don’t go into Fearna — it’s a big, busy place.’
‘You implied that other people have asked you about Gabrán today?’
‘A warrior was here as well. He announced himself as a commander of the King’s guards.’
‘Was his name Mel?’
‘He didn’t say.’ She shrugged again. ‘He was here even before the grand religieuse.’
‘He was looking for Gabrán?’
‘In a great hurry, he was. Seemed most put out when I told him where the Cág had gone. Upriver? says he. Upriver? Then off he goes, racing away.’
‘I see. I don’t suppose that he mentioned why he wanted to find Gabrán?’
‘Not he.’
‘So we will find Gabrán somewhere upriver?’
‘I have said as much.’
Fidelma waited but when no further information was forthcoming she asked: ‘Yet this river appears to have two main arteries beyond those islands. Which one do we take?’
‘You are a stranger here, Sister,’ the woman chided. ‘There is only one route for a boat. The eastern branch of the river is not negotiable for a boat the size of the Cág. Gabrán usually takes the northern route to some settlements along the way. He collects some merchandise there before he returns downriver where he sells it.’
Fidelma thanked the woman and turned for the woodcutter’s boat with Dego following.
‘It seems that we must ride further upriver after Gabrán, then,’ she sighed.
‘Why do you think the abbess was looking for him?’ asked Dego, as they reached the boat. ‘And now Mel? Are they all involved in this mystery?’
Fidelma shrugged. ‘Let us hope that we shall discover that.’ She found herself suddenly shivering. ‘Today is bitterly cold. I hope that Eadulf has found some shelter.’
Back in the boat, the woodcutter was reclining, wrapped in a woollen cloak, looking comfortable in spite of the chill.
‘I told you that Gabrán was not there,’ he grinned, reaching out a hand to steady Fidelma as she climbed into the boat, causing it to rock a little.
‘You did,’ she replied shortly.
He rowed them back across the river in silence.
On the north shore, Dego gave the man the coin he asked for and they rejoined Enda.
‘The Cág has gone upriver,’ Dego told him. ‘We shall ride after it.’
Enda’s features were gloomy.
‘I spoke to the woodcutter’s wife while you were across there,’ he offered. ‘The northern branch of the river is not navigable beyond two or three kilometres from here, and the southern branch is not navigable beyond a kilometre or thereabouts.’
Our Lady of Darkness Page 22
