Peter Tremayne - The Dove of Death

Her face above him broke into a smile of relief.

‘Eadulf!’ was all she said, and was unable to speak further for emotion.

Eadulf became aware that he was lying on grassy ground. The crash of waves came at a distance. He was soaked through. His head ached and his throat was sore. The realisation came to him gradually that he must have been hauled from the water and carried to this spot. He looked at Fidelma and was about to form a question when he observed the shadows behind her. He tried to focus on them and after a moment they moulded into two grim-faced warriors whose swords, however, were sheathed.

Fidelma saw his glance.

‘We were seen — these men came down to the shore and managed to save us.’

He became aware of another man kneeling by his head and proffering a goatskin water bag.

‘Take a sip, swirl it round your mouth and then spit it out,’ the man instructed. ‘You have swallowed much seawater and ’tis better not to digest any more water until your mouth has been cleansed.’

Eadulf tried to raise himself on one elbow but his head started to swim.

‘Better if I could spew it forth,’ he replied, remembering the advice of the physicians under whom he had trained.

‘We caused you to vomit on the seashore, otherwise…’ The man did not finish.

Obediently Eadulf took a sip, tasting the cool fresh water in his mouth. It was hard not to swallow but he rinsed his mouth and spat the water out again.

The man took the goatskin bag and put back the stopper. Then he signalled to his men. They lifted Eadulf like a child between them.

‘It is not far to my lady Trifina’s dwelling,’ the man said. ‘Do you require assistance, lady?’ This last enquiry was addressed to Fidelma.

Eadulf did not hear her answer but it must have been negative.

‘It was lucky for you that we were at the southern point of the island,’ the man said, as they began to move forward. Eadulf had the impression that he was young and swarthy. He was feeling light-headed again and wanted more than anything to close his eyes and sleep. However, he struggled to keep his senses attuned as he remembered their circumstances and realised that they might soon be in trouble.

‘Is the lady Trifina in residence?’ he heard Fidelma ask innocently.

‘She is often at this island, which she regards as her home more than at her father’s residence. Do you know the lady Trifina then?’

‘We have met.’ Fidelma’s voice was solemn.

It seemed that Eadulf must have passed out then, for when he came to, he was inside a building and could feel the warmth and hear the crackle of a fire. A young man was bending over him and prodding him with firm but gentle fingers. Eadulf felt nauseous and his headache had not improved. He blinked and groaned but his eyelids felt like lead.

‘He will be all right after a short rest, lady,’ the young man said to someone behind him. He spoke in Latin.

‘What on earth has happened?’ The voice was familiar and it took him a moment or two before he identified it as that of Trifina.

‘We were coming to pay a call on you and mistook a safe landing-place,’ he heard Fidelma reply. Even through the fog of his mind, it did not sound convincing. ‘We struck a submerged rock and our boat broke up. It was fortunate for us that these men saw the incident from the shore and effected a rescue. They saved our lives.’

‘They will be rewarded,’ responded Trifina distantly. ‘But how did those at Brilhag let you come out here alone? Macliau knows how dangerous the waters around these islands can be, unless one has knowledge. I do not understand it.’

‘Your brother is away hunting,’ Fidelma said.

Trifina gave an exclamation of surprise.

‘He left you and…?’ Then her tone became brisk. ‘But we must get you dry, into warm clothes, and it looks as though your companion stands in need of some attention. Heraclius, my physician, will take care of him. If only Iuna were here,’ she added absently.

‘Iuna is not here?’ Fidelma’s ejaculation of surprise was apparent but then it seemed she controlled her astonishment. ‘I thought I had heard that Iuna was coming to join you here,’ she added.

‘Indeed not,’ responded Trifina. ‘Why should she? I left her to attend to your wants at Brilhag.’

‘I thought that she might have come bearing the news.’ Was Fidelma searching for an excuse?

‘News?’ Trifina’s tone was perplexed. ‘What news?’

‘Firstly, that Riwanon has arrived at Brilhag with her entourage.’

‘Riwanon!’ The voice had the tone of surprise but there was something not quite right to Fidelma’s ears. A note of falseness. ‘Then are you saying that King Alain and my father are at Brilhag?’

‘They have not arrived yet,’ Fidelma rejoined. ‘Riwanon had left them hunting and came on by herself.’

‘Then it is a good thing that Iuna is at my father’s fortress. And my brother has decided to go hunting at this moment? For shame! No one there to welcome the Queen.’

‘There is even more news, lady,’ Fidelma said. She cleared her throat. ‘Unwelcome news, I regret. Abbot Maelcar of the community of Gildas arrived at Brilhag…and was murdered last night, or rather, early this morning.’

There was a long silence.

‘Are you jesting?’ demanded Trifina. Yet again there was something unconvincing about her tone as though she were affecting surprise rather than truly being surprised.

‘I do not jest about murder, lady,’ Fidelma replied firmly.

‘Let me get this right. You say that Abbot Maelcar was murdered while staying at my father’s fortress at the same time as Riwanon arrived?’

‘Indeed. It was to bring you these tidings that we came.’

Eadulf presumed that Fidelma considered herself to be merely twisting the facts to suit the moment, rather than telling an outright lie. Even in his befogged state of mind he could almost smile at the logic.

‘We will talk more about this when you are dried and changed,’ Trifina announced abruptly.

Eadulf was aware of instructions being issued but he still could not open his eyes. A great lethargy seemed to overcome him and he slid into a gentle sleep.

Fidelma had followed Trifina’s attendants, who carried Eadulf between them through a light oakwood-panelled corridor then up a broad stairway. They ascended without pausing and went along another corridor to a comfortable chamber where a wood fire was already crackling in the hearth. While Eadulf was being bathed and placed in a warm bed, a female attendant invited Fidelma into a small adjoining chamber where a tub of hot water had also been prepared for her and some dry clothing had been brought. It did not take long before she felt restored to her normal self, and one of the female servants told her that the lady Trifina was now awaiting her with refreshments.

She looked in on Eadulf before she left and saw that he was sleeping fairly comfortably. The young physician, who looked little more than a youth, stood respectfully by the fire.

‘I will stay with him for a while, lady,’ he said. He spoke in excellent Latin but she could not place his accent. ‘The water is out of his lungs but the immersion has disturbed him; also he has a bad graze on the head, and so he desires sleep above all things. I have seen this desire for sleep happen before, when someone has been resuscitated after near-death by drowning. A rest, and he will be well again. Have no fear.’

‘Trifina says you are a physician.’ Fidelma gave the youth a slow scrutiny.

‘I am qualified in my own land in medical matters, lady.’

‘What is your name?’

‘Heraclius, lady.’

‘I have heard that name before. And surely it is a Greek name?’