Peter Tremayne - The Dove of Death

‘What are you doing?’ he asked.

‘Does anything odd catch your attention?’

‘Apart from our friend sitting on that hill watching us?’ he replied.

Iarnbud was now sitting on a rock on the hill from which they had descended and trying to look inconspicuous.

‘I mean about this place,’ Fidelma replied.

Eadulf shrugged. ‘What should catch my attention? It’s just a normal sandy beach with nothing else.’

‘Exactly. No fishermen’s cabins, no sign of boats. And look at the sand. There are no footprints or signs of disturbance; it is as if nothing has been here.’

‘Perhaps this was not the exact place where we saw the lights,’ Eadulf suggested, as baffled as she was.

Fidelma jerked her head towards the distant fortress. ‘Look again.’

Eadulf realised that this was the only shore that could be seen from the window of their chamber in the fortress. He looked about him more carefully, then shivered superstitiously as he remembered the story Iarnbud had told.

Knowing him of old, Fidelma reassured him. ‘The intention of the story was to frighten us from investigating this beach. Look, Eadulf — they were so worried that they have eliminated all traces of whatever activity has gone on here! That confirms there is a mystery — and that mystery will lead us to the sea raiders.’

‘Eliminated all traces?’ Eadulf was sceptical. ‘You are surely guessing.’

Fidelma controlled her irritation.

‘After all this time,’ she responded quietly, ‘you should know that when I am putting forward a hypothesis, I say that I am doing so. When I make a statement of fact, then it is a statement of fact . Look at this.’

She crossed the sand to the treeline and pointed. Following, Eadulf looked at the object she had indicated. It was a short branch of horse chestnut, snapped off but leaving its thick foliage on it. It was only now that Eadulf realised what the curious patterns across the dry, grainlike sand were.

‘Someone used that branch to sweep away any marks in the sand,’ he noted.

‘Just so. And don’t pick that branch up in case our friend on the hill sees that we have spotted it. We will walk along the shore as far as that rocky outcrop there.’

Eadulf pulled a face but followed her, thinking out loud.

‘There are, of course, several innocent reasons as to why people should be loading boats by torchlight here. Bleidbara said his men were taking supplies to the ship.’

‘Of course,’ agreed Fidelma in conciliatory fashion. ‘This is a natural landing-place by the fortress and, as Trifina said last night, they have a similar dwelling on one of the islands. Why shouldn’t they be transporting things to and from and at whatever time of the day or night they think fit? Bleidbara was quite open about it, once he had permission from Trifina. You did not see the looks passed at the table last night?’

‘No.’ Eadulf glanced at her uneasily.

‘So why did they alert our attention to the fact that they wanted to keep this hidden?’ she went on. ‘They surely cannot think we would be so stupid as not to see through all their storytelling?’

They walked along the beach deep in thought for a while. Fidelma suddenly halted.

The beach was intersected by a stream coming down through the woods from the hill behind the fortress before trickling across the sands to the sea. Beyond it was a large outcrop of rocks that acted as a natural breakwater and as a wall between the sandy shore and what lay on the far side of the rocks. Between the stream and the rocks the sand seemed to change its colour and texture a little. Eadulf knew that he had seen something similar before, but he could not remember where.

However, it was not this that had caught Fidelma’s attention; she was staring at the rocks beyond.

‘Look!’ she said softly. ‘There is the mast of a boat. Beyond those rocks must be the harbour for the fortress. I thought it odd that they would use an open beach without a jetty.’

Eadulf followed her gaze towards the sea end of the line of rocks. Indeed, there was a boat’s mast poking above them. He estimated it was a small sailing craft. At the top of the mast was a strip of white silk. Although the emblem was not clear, for it hung limply as the morning breeze had dropped away, Eadulf was sure that it was the dove emblem of the mac’htiern of Brilhag.

‘Come on,’ Fidelma urged. ‘Let’s have a look at it. We can easily scramble over these rocks.’

The water from the stream trickling across the sands barely came over her insteps and she crossed it in two strides and went enthusiastically onward.

Eadulf was halfway across the stream close behind her when he suddenly recalled where he had seen the texture of the sand before.

‘Stop!’

By the time his yell had resounded, she was up to her ankles in quicksand.

He came quickly up, searching the sands behind her, before he grabbed her and pulled her backwards. They tumbled down together into the cold water of the stream — but at least the stream was flowing across a thickly compacted, firm stretch of sand. Then they scrambled hastily to their feet and moved back to where they knew the sand was safe. Fidelma had lost her sandals in the quicksand; indeed, they had already vanished beneath it.

She stood looking at the innocent-looking expanse, breathing heavily.

‘I’m sorry,’ muttered Eadulf, trying to dislodge the clinging wet sand from his clothing. ‘I should have realised it sooner. Remember the quicksand across the stretch of water to the fortress of Uallaman the Leper? It eventually killed him and could have killed many others. I knew I had seen such a texture of sand before, It is not the same as normal sand. There is something about it…’

‘Well, thankfully you recognised it in time,’ Fidelma interrupted. ‘Had I been moving more quickly, then-’

‘Hóigh!’ They heard the voice faintly and glanced back. The familiar form of Brother Metellus was hurrying across the sands, waving at them.

Fidelma looked at Eadulf with a grim expression.

‘I wonder if we have just found out the answer to our question?’ she mused softly.

‘The answer…?’ Eadulf’s eyes widened as he took in what she meant. ‘Do you think that we were intended to go into that quicksand?’

‘It is a thought,’ she said, and turned to face Brother Metellus who came panting up to them, red-faced and a trifle out of breath.

‘Deo favente!’ he gasped. ‘I have caught you in time. Do you know that you were walking into an area of quicksand?’

Fidelma answered with an ironic smile. ‘I am afraid that we have already learned that,’ she said.

The monk glanced down at their soiled clothing and his mouth opened and for a moment he could say nothing. Then he stammered, ‘Th-thank God you have been saved. How?’

Eadulf was watching Brother Metellus’ face closely.

‘By the grace of God,’ he replied simply. ‘But how came you here after us?’

Brother Metellus blinked. ‘I was told by Iuna that you had gone walking on the shore alone.’

‘Alone?’ Eadulf jerked his head towards the hills. ‘I thought Iarnbud was watching over us from a discreet distance.’

‘Iarnbud? I saw no one on my way here. No, when I heard that you had set out for this shore I wondered if anyone had warned you of this area of quicksand. It is notorious among locals and people avoid this side of the rockline between there and the stream.’

‘That we can imagine. But we were not warned.’

‘ I came hurrying after you — to warn you.’

‘Why were you so sure that we had come this way?’

Brother Metellus looked bewildered for a moment.