CHAPTER ELEVEN
Fidelma came to her senses to find a dark figure bending over her. The calming voice of Eadulf bade her remain still.
‘It’s all right. Your attacker has fled. It was a lucky thing I thought better of you coming here alone.’ Eadulf raised a lantern so that she could see.
‘Who was it?’ she asked, clearing her dry throat.
‘Adamrae, who else?’ Eadulf replied, helping her up with his free hand.
‘The young religieux?’ She was astonished.
‘I saw him lurking outside under the light above the chapel door. I wondered why he was being so furtive so I doused my lantern and crept up the path as he entered the chapel. Alas, I was not quick enough. I entered just as he struck the blow that knocked you out. I launched myself at him but I swear, he moved with the strength and agility of a warrior. He pushed me aside as if I were a small child. Then he was out of the chapel with the speed of a hare.’
Fidelma was rubbing her bruised head ruefully. It was sticky and she knew her assailant had drawn blood.
‘How do you know he has fled?’
‘There was a horse waiting by the fence. I followed him outside just in time to see it speeding away into the night.’ Eadulf peered at Fidelma’s injury in the lamplight and said, ‘We’d best get that bathed and tended.’
She was about to agree when she suddenly remembered what had brought her to the chapel.
‘All in good time. Let us find Brother Cronan, if he is still here.’
She made her way, a little unsteadily, towards the door which separated the living quarters of Brother Cronan from the chapel. Eadulf followed, holding the lantern high. She twisted the iron handle and pushed. The door would not budge. She tried again.
‘It’s locked,’ she said unnecessarily. ‘You will need to fetch Gormán to help you. This is a heavy door.’
‘And leave you here alone?’ Eadulf said, aghast. ‘After what has happened?’
‘Either that or I must fetch him myself.’
Eadulf dithered for a moment or two before handing the lantern to her and turning and trotting off.
When he returned, he brought not only Gormán but Conrí and Socht with him. Conrí’s face was a mask of dismay.
‘Did I not tell you that young, arrogant men do not take kindly to having their abilities questioned? However, I had no idea that the young man would go so far as to attack you.’
‘He did not attack me for any insult that he felt I had given him,’ Fidelma corrected. ‘There is something much deeper to this matter.’ She indicated the door. ‘It is locked and needs to be opened. If you would oblige me by forcing it … ?’
Gormán immediately put his shoulder to the door. Socht, after receiving a nod of approval from Conrí, joined him. A moment later the lock was wrenched from its holding as the door caved in. Fidelma followed the men into the room, holding the lantern high.
A figure lay on a bed covered in a blanket. It was very still.
Eadulf ran forward and pulled back the cover. An elderly man lay beneath it, tied hand and foot. A piece of cloth was fastened across his mouth.
‘Brother Cronan!’ exclaimed Conrí.
The man was alive but tied in such a way, with hands behind him, the rope connecting his hands and feet, that he was bent almost backwards. Eadulf untied the gag then drew his knife and quickly severed the bonds. The man was very pale. He looked weak and anaemic. There was a jug of water nearby and Eadulf poured some of the contents into a beaker. Conrí was trying to question the bewildered figure on the bed.
‘Let him recover first,’ Fidelma instructed, holding the man’s head to allow him to sip the water. ‘Everything in good time.’
The man, identified as Brother Cronan, began to sit up, coughing a little and rubbing at his wrists where angry weal-marks showed how tightly he had been bound. He looked from one to another of his rescuers in bewilderment.
Fidelma sat down on the edge of the bed.
‘I am a dálaigh, Brother Cronan. My name is Fidelma of Cashel. We need to ask you questions. Are you up to answering?’
‘How long have I been here?’ he countered.
‘We have not seen you for five days,’ Conrí said. ‘Brother Adamrae said you were taken sick and confined to your room.’
Brother Cronan’s lips compressed for a moment. ‘Brother Adamrae!’ he echoed bitterly. Then: ‘Five days? Yes, he came and fed me five times and I was allowed to perform … certain natural functions. Other than that he kept me tied up as you have seen. I am weak from hunger and need a bath. Forgive me, for I must insult your sense of smell, lady.’