The Dove of Death

Chapter Twelve

Eadulf was feeling better. The young apothecary had been accurate in his prognosis. The shock of near death by drowning must have caused the reaction of the stupor that had come over him. Even his headache had gone, thanks to the potion that he had been given. He rose from the chair in front of the fire and took a swallow of water from the mug left on the table. The cold liquid refreshed his mouth, although he felt a distinct soreness in his chest and an ache in his stomach as if he had eaten bad food.

He had begun to feel frustrated by his inaction and moved to the window and gazed out on the western coastline of the island. The day seemed pleasant enough. In fact, there was little need of a fire at all for it was quite warm. He walked up and down for a few moments, realising that he was now in complete control of all his senses and movements.

Eadulf knew enough about the practice of the apothecary’s art to be aware that a warming cordial would do better for his chest than sipping fresh water. Deciding to go in search of the young apothecary or of the kitchens of the villa where he could make his own soothing concoction, he left the room and walked down the corridor until he found the stairway to the floor below. A young girl was hard at work scrubbing the stairs. Her head was bent down to her work so she did not notice him until he reached the step above her.

When he asked where he might find the apothecary she started nervously.

He smiled reassuringly at her and asked again. It was clear that she did not understand Latin and he tried to drag from his memory a word from his sparse knowledge of the language of the Britons. No word came to mind.

‘Culina,’ he said again, using the Latin word for kitchen, and made motions implying drinking and eating.

The girl seemed to understand his mime and pointed down the stairs saying something in her language, repeating the word ‘kegin’ several times.

Eadulf thanked her and moved past her down the stairway to the lower corridor. The girl had pointed almost directly under the stairs and Eadulf saw a doorway which led into an ante-room lined with shelves. Immediately his senses were bombarded with a mixture of aromas, sweet-smelling herbs and spices combined with dried meats that hung from metal hooks from the ceiling. The room was like a narrow corridor through which he passed quickly and, opening a door at the far end, he entered into a courtyard. In the covered area on one side were three great clay brick ovens and places where a fire could be lit in such a manner that a pot could be placed on an iron arm over the flames. Pots and pans hung along the wall behind the ovens. In the centre of the courtyard was a well, obviously the source of the fresh water for cooking.

There seemed no one about but this was clearly the kitchen area. He thought it strange that there was no one attending to the preparation of food in such a large villa as this. The rooms along this side of the courtyard consisted of various storerooms and a few that were clearly occupied by the kitchen workers as their personal quarters. He walked along, peering into each but there was no one around.

At the far corner, another open door led into what was clearly the dispensary. He was surprised that this was not closed and locked, but saw a key hanging from a hook just inside the door and presumed that the young apothecary had forgotten to lock up. Eadulf went in, examining the shelves. At one end there was a pile of moss in water, but a moss smelling strongly of the sea. Eadulf recognised it at once for it was a red alga that he knew was found along the western shores of Éireann among the sea-bathed rocks. That was just what he was looking for.

He reached forward and picked up some, smelling it to make sure it was the same plant.

‘What do you want?’

The sharp voice caused him to start. The youthful apothecary, who had attended him, was standing in the doorway. He was tall, with curly blue-black hair and dark eyes, with a swarthy face and a permanent furrow over his brows as though in constant thought.

‘I am looking for something that will relieve the soreness in the back of my throat and chest and the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach,’ replied Eadulf, trying to remember his name. ‘I think I have found it.’

The young man’s frown deepened as he glanced at the plant Eadulf held.

‘You appear to have a good knowledge of the healing qualities of plants and herbs,’ he observed suspiciously.

Eadulf confessed that he had studied the art in Tuaim Brecain, a great medical college of Éireann.

‘I have not heard of it. However, you have picked a wise choice in pioka ruz,’ the young man said, nodding to the moss he held. ‘It should settle your ailment.’

Eadulf tried to repeat the name and added: ‘It is called carraigin in the language of Hibernia.’

‘It is a good demulcent,’ confirmed the young man. ‘You know how to use it?’

‘If I can boil a little of the plant to produce a syrup…?’

‘There is no need. I was preparing such a mixture earlier this morning as it is also used to make sweet dishes. I make a jelly substance mixed with honey, which the lady Trifina especially likes. Come, I will give you some.’

The young man pointed to the bowl standing near to where Eadulf had picked up the moss. He took an empty dish and measured out several spoonfuls from the bowl.

‘There now, it is a syrupy taste that coats the throat and will also make its way to your stomach. Perhaps you would like a spoonful of honey to sweeten the taste more?’

Eadulf shook his head as he tried an experimental spoonful. As the familiar taste of what he knew as carraigin made contact with his tongue, he swallowed and felt its comforting contact with his throat.

‘What did you call this, my friend?’ he asked.

‘I know only the name in the language of the Bretons, which is pioka ruz. I hear that it is known by several other names in various parts of this country. It is a plant that is unknown in my land.’

‘But it grows along these shores?’

‘It does, indeed.’

Eadulf nodded appreciatively as he finished the bowl. ‘Ah, that should settle my stomach.’

‘You feel better?’

‘Better than when I was lifted from the sea,’ smiled Eadulf, trying to regain his sense of humour.

The young man nodded. ‘It was the worst place on this island to attempt a landing.’

‘My name is Eadulf, by the way.’ Eadulf decided to change the subject and introduce himself.

‘That I know,’ responded the young man.

‘And your name is…? I think I heard it spoken but have forgotten.’

‘Heraclius of Constantinopolis.’

‘And you are Greek then?’ Eadulf said. ‘You are further from home than I am.’

‘Indeed, I am,’ Heraclius said dryly. ‘My father, Callinicus, was of Heliopolis in the land of Phoenice. He had to flee from there before my birth when our armies were defeated at Yarmouk by Abu Ubaida ibn al-Jarral over thirty years ago.’

‘Alas, I know nothing of these names nor of that part of the world.’

‘Abu Ubaida commanded the great Muslim army and after our defeat at Yarmouk most of our people fled from Heliopolis leaving behind much booty for him. My father went to Constantinopolis to take service with the emperors of Byzantium.’

‘I have vaguely heard of these Muslims. When I was in Rome, I was told about them raiding the coastal towns,’ Eadulf said. ‘Was your father also an apothecary?’

The young man shook his head quickly.

‘No. He was an architect. He built some of the great buildings for which Heliopolis had been famous.’

‘But you became an apothecary?’

‘I did.’

‘How did you come here? It is a long way from your home.’

‘I decided to leave Constantinopolis to seek my fortune for there is a surfeit of apothecaries at home. I took ship with a merchant and travelled through the Middle Sea to Massilia. Finally, a year ago, I came to this country, this land they called Bro-Waroch, and took service with the noble family here. They appreciated my skills and so I stayed here.’

‘You are young to have made such a journey.’

The young man shrugged. ‘I am five and twenty years, but a youthful countenance is passed down in my family. Callinicus appears to be more my brother in appearance than my father.’ Eadulf had placed the age of the apothecary at around twenty years. Heraclius was examining him with interest. ‘Why did you give up the path to being a healer? You say that you have studied the art?’

‘I studied only that I might be of some assistance to my brethren, but not to spend my time in a dispensary,’ replied Eadulf.

‘Ah, yes. I forget that you are a religious. You are the companion of this Hibernian lady…’

‘She is my wife,’ Eadulf corrected him.

‘Ah.’ Heraclius nodded. ‘Then you do not follow this concept that all religious must be celibate and remain separate from one another, as does Abbot Maelcar? We, too, in the East, do not believe that all our religious should be celibate.’

‘I once thought I should follow that path,’ affirmed Eadulf. Then he frowned a little. ‘So you know Abbot Maelcar?’

‘While I prefer to follow my experiments here, I serve this family and often go to the mainland. I have met him and, I confess, I do not like him.’

Eadulf realised the passing of time and made a quick apology. ‘I must now find Fidelma. Have you seen her?’

‘I have not for a while. This part of the villa is usually the province of the attendants. I doubt she would come here.’

‘I am surprised the kitchens are deserted.’

‘Well, the villa is not expecting guests and so the lady Trifina has no need of many workers in her kitchens.’

‘This villa is run very much in Roman style, isn’t it?’ queried Eadulf, interested in what he had seen.

The young man seemed diffident.

‘I would not know,’ he said. ‘It seems a normal way of living to me.’

‘Of course. You are Greek. This way of life is not usual in the far west.’ Eadulf hesitated but he sensed the Greek was growing tired of his questions and so he decided not to press him further. ‘Well, Heraclius of Constantinopolis, I thank you for your help. Indeed, I should probably thank you for my life.’

‘The warriors who plucked you from the sea managed to make you vomit the seawater from your belly, otherwise you might have drowned. They should be thanked. I did but little.’

‘In that case,’ responded Eadulf, ‘I shall thank you for that little you did do. What was the name of the warrior who saved me?’

‘I am not sure. You will have to ask Bleidbara.’ Heraclius turned away before he saw the surprise on Eadulf’s features.

In deep thought, Eadulf left the apothecary and went out into the courtyard. Instead of exiting by the way he had come, he walked slowly around the far side of the rectangular court to examine the building which he realised was very Roman in structure and also old. Clearly, in the days of the empire of Rome this had been built to demonstrate the wealth of the owners. He also realised that this courtyard could not be the only one in the villa, for the main courtyard would be reserved for the convenience of Trifina and her guests. He wondered whether there was some way of reaching it without retracing his steps. There was a small door at the far side of the courtyard.

He tried the handle and found that it opened out onto a small and pleasant garden, filled with herbs and plants doubtless destined for the use of the cooks. It was walled and on the far side was yet another door. He crossed the garden and again he found that once the internal bolt had been withdrawn, the door opened easily. The first thing that struck him was the salt tang of the sea, and he found himself gazing across the open waters to the eastern side of the island. But he was distracted immediately by a stronger, more curious smell. He noticed a small stone-built hut standing a little way from the outer walls of the villa and the smell seemed to permeate this building. It contrasted strongly with the balmy sea air.

Curiosity compelled Eadulf to walk towards the grey stone building. Then he heard a cry, a shout as if of warning, from below. He glanced down and caught sight of a small craft almost below him. It was a small sailing dinghy with its sail furled and one person standing up in it, gazing upwards towards him.

Eadulf started, his eyes widening as he recognised the features of larnbud.

At that moment, he began diving into a dark whirlpool; he had a split second of consciousness before the dive began, when the thought registered that someone had hit him on the back of the head.

‘Well, Sister Fidelma,’ Trifina was saying slowly. ‘You seem very interested in that ship?’

Fidelma’s mind raced for a plausible reason as to why she should be hiding behind some bushes watching Bleidbara’s departure. She decided that honesty was the best policy.

‘I was wondering why a warship — for its lines proclaim that it is no merchantman — should be anchored off this island,’ she said defensively.

Trifina gazed thoughtfully at her.

‘The ship is called the Morvran and it is in the service of my family,’ she said. ‘If you remember, it is the same ship that Bleidbara informed you that he was captain of the other night — the same ship that was anchored in the inlet below Brilhag. When I need to come here, this is the ship that transports me. There is nothing sinister about it.’

‘You did not tell me that Bleidbara was here,’ Fidelma remarked.

‘Why should I need to? I did mention that I would send one of my men back to Brilhag to inform them that you and Eadulf were here on this island with me. I have sent Bleidbara.’

Fidelma did not respond, her mind rapidly turning over the information.

Trifina saw her concentration.

‘Shall I tell you what you are thinking, Fidelma of Hibernia? You see the banner of my father that flies from the great mast? It bears an emblem of a dove, doesn’t it? I’ll lay a wager with you. When your own ship, the Barnacle Goose, was attacked, my wager is that the attacker bore the same emblem. You are now thinking that you have discovered the ship that attacked you. Am I not right in this assumption?’

Fidelma had been so careful to withhold this important information from Trifina or Macliau. Only Eadulf and Brother Metellus knew about the dove emblem. Now, here was Trifina, confronting her with the knowledge. She ran her tongue around her lips.

‘The thought did occur to me,’ she admitted slowly. It was useless to deny it. ‘Your wager was a safe one.’

An expression of satisfaction crossed Trifina’s face.

‘Take a good look at Bleidbara’s ship,’ she invited. Her voice was serious now. ‘Is it the same vessel as the one that attacked your ship?’

Fidelma turned back to see the vessel hoisting its sail and moving slowly southward along the coast. She had already realised that the colour was wrong. Although both ships were basically black in colour, the pirate ship certainly did not carry the strange orange bow that Bleidbara’s ship had. Nor were the lines of the ships similar.

‘Well?’ demanded Trifina.

Fidelma sighed. ‘The vessel is of different construction but it flies the same flag.’

‘I think you should return to the villa now, Fidelma of Hibernia,’ Trifina quietly ordered, indicating the path back. ‘You are entering into matters that are not your concern.’

The warrior accompanying Trifina stood, his hand still on the hilt of his sword as if waiting for an order from the daughter of the mac’htiern.

Fidelma began to walk slowly back up the incline. Trifina fell in step behind her.

Eadulf was about to be hanged. He was being led down a line of cowled Brothers and Sisters of the Faith, preceded by a single Brother of the community bearing an ornate metal cross. They were all chanting in an eerie fashion that sent shivers down his spine. His hands were tied behind him and the procession moved inexorably towards the platform where a single rope seemed to hang in space, formed into a noose.

The face of Abbess Fainder suddenly floated before him.

‘Abhor your sins, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham. Life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot…that is the law.’

He wanted to cry out — ‘But you are dead! You do not exist!’

The noose was about his neck.

‘Let God’s will be done!’ shrieked the Abbess in his ear.

He started to scream. He was lying on damp earth. It was cold and wet against his cheek. It took him several moments to realise he was lying on the grass outside the villa on the island of Govihan. Without moving, or raising his head, he looked around. There was nothing in his area of vision and so he gently moved himself up into a sitting position and peered round again. He was alone, lying outside the still-open door that led from the villa’s herb garden.

He raised a hand to the back of his head. It came away sticky and he saw that it was covered in blood. The area was tender and throbbing.

Remembrance came back to him in a moment.

He peered cautiously down to the sea. There was no sign of the small sailing boat nor of Iarnbud.

His next thought was to warn Fidelma, and he was about to get to his feet when he heard a movement through the door of the herb garden.

Fidelma returned slowly to the villa with Trifina, the watchful warrior following them at a distance. Trifina left her at the gates of the villa with a curt farewell; her bodyguard remained at the gates.

Frustrated, Fidelma had no alternative but to enter the main courtyard. As she did so, she caught sight of a man moving quickly through the far door. In that split second, she recognised the figure of Iarnbud. Then the door slammed. She paused only a second before she almost ran to the door and tried the handle — but it had been bolted from the other side.

Iarnbud! He was here in Trifina’s villa, yet the daughter of the mac’htiern had denied any knowledge of Iuna or the pagan bretat.

She turned from the door and her frustration increased. But she had realised two things. One, that Trifina was a liar. And two, that there was a sinister mystery here in these beautiful islands of Morbihan.

Eadulf found himself once again looking into the eyes of Heraclius, who was staring at him in amazement.

He came forward immediately and held out a hand to raise Eadulf to his feet.

‘Why, what has happened? Did you fall and hit your head?’ he asked with concern.

Eadulf forced a grim smile, saying, ‘It seems that my destiny is either to drown or be bludgeoned to death.’

‘Bludgeoned?’ queried the young man in astonishment.

‘Someone hit me from behind.’

Heraclius looked around. ‘There is no one around here. You have not long left me. Are you sure you did not fall and hit your head?’

Eadulf groaned, reaching out and touching the back of his head again.

‘It does not take long to strike a blow,’ he said.

Heraclius was examining the wound.

‘However you came by this, I must dress it. There is a small gash where the skin has opened and is bleeding, but it will heal swiftly. However, you will have bruising, and coming on top of the immersion in the sea, you should rest to prevent yourself from further harm. It is not wise to take a blow to the head so soon after the previous one.’

‘I did not intentionally seek a further blow to the head,’ Eadulf said bitterly. ‘I don’t suppose you saw anyone follow me out through the herb garden?’

The young man shook his head with a smile. ‘I have only just come from there.’

‘Why?’ Eadulf asked.

‘Why?’ Heraclius repeated, not understanding.

‘What brought you here?’

‘I was looking for a herb, and when I entered the garden I saw this door open. I came out here and found you sitting on the ground. Why do you ask?’

Eadulf instinctively felt that the young apothecary was lying.

‘And you saw no one else? You did not see any sign of a small sailboat down there?’ He indicated the seashore below them.

‘A sailboat? I have seen nothing, I assure you.’

‘Very well, give me a hand back to your rooms and let us get this wound dressed. Then I must find Fidelma.’

‘Where have you been?’ was Fidelma’s first question when Eadulf returned to the guest chamber. Her second question, on seeing his bandaged forehead, was: ‘What has happened to you now?’

She had returned to the room and, having found it empty, was about to set out in search of him. Eadulf told her briefly of his adventure.

‘So you saw Iarnbud too,’ she breathed softly when he had finished.

He was surprised. ‘You saw him as well?’

‘Only for a second. He was in the villa and I just caught sight of him vanishing through a door. But when I tried to follow, the bolt had been secured on the other side.’

‘If Iarnbud is here, that means Iuna is here.’

‘That is logical. But Trifina does not want us to know that. Why?’

Eadulf grimaced. ‘I would wager it has something to do with that stone building outside the wall of the villa. There was a strange smell hanging over that place, a smell that I can’t quite identify.’

‘You suspect that this apothecary, Heraclius, was the one who knocked you out?’

‘I can’t see who else it could have been.’

‘Why would he do so?’

‘To prevent me examining the interior of the hut or challenging Iarnbud.’

‘You say that the door was closed. He could have simply asked you to leave, without knocking you out.’

‘Perhaps.’

Fidelma hesitated a moment or two and then said: ‘Well, let us both go and examine this place to satisfy our curiosity.’

‘Heraclius might now be on his guard against me returning to the hut,’ Eadulf said doubtfully.

‘Or perhaps, having dealt with you — if it was he who knocked you out — he might be complacent that you would never return so quickly. Anyway, you say that the building is outside the villa on the eastern side of the wall?’

Eadulf nodded.

‘Then if we leave the villa in some other spot and follow the walls round, we might approach it unseen rather than attempt to go through the kitchen area and the herb garden.’

They left the room and went down to the lower floor. It seemed deserted, but it was no use going through the main door, for there were bound to be guards outside. Fidelma strode determinedly along the lower corridor until she found a door that opened onto a veranda overlooking a garden with a surrounding high wall. The couple stood for a moment examining what must be the outer wall of the villa complex.

Eadulf touched her arm and silently pointed.

There was a small door in the wall.

She nodded and they forced themselves to stroll casually across the garden towards it, pretending to be deep in conversation. If they were seen, then they would not arouse immediate suspicion. The door proved to be so small, they had to bend to it. It was barred on the inner side and Eadulf found it easy to slide the wooden bar back and push the door outward. They slipped through it without trouble and Eadulf pushed the door back into place again.

For a moment or two they stood breathing quickly, waiting for some shout which would have announced they had been observed.

Keeping close to the wall, they moved within its shadow to the corner that marked the north-eastern end. There was still no one in sight and no one to challenge them. The sea before them was empty, apart from a few distant sails, faint outlines on the sparkling waters.

Once more they hurried along, towards the stone cabin that Eadulf had identified.

‘This is it.’ Eadulf felt relief as they came to the mysterious building. At least no one had spotted them so far.

The stone building seemed isolated.

The odour reached their nostrils at the same time.

‘It seems like sulphur, but there is something different about it,’ Fidelma mused thoughtfully.

Eadulf went forward and tried the handle.

‘It’s locked,’ he announced, glancing downwards and finding an iron lock on the wooden door.

‘Why are you surprised?’ Fidelma muttered in vexation. ‘If there is something in here which no one is permitted to see, then it would scarcely be left open.’

There was no sign of a key anywhere. Then Eadulf suddenly remembered the key hanging inside the door where Heraclius had his dispensary. An idea occurred to him.

‘There was a key hanging in the apothecary’s room. That might be the one to this door.’

Fidelma gestured impatiently. ‘Then go and get it. You’ll have to chance being seen in the kitchen area, after all.’

Eadulf hurried to the door of the walled herb garden. He was surprised to find that it had been left unsecured. He crossed the garden swiftly and slowly tried the handle of the inner door. Glancing into the courtyard beyond, he found it just as deserted as it was before. He shrugged at his luck. So he and Fidelma had made their circumnavigation of the villa for nothing. They could have come this quicker way.

It seemed that luck was with him all the way, for the kitchen area was devoid of movement and the apothecary’s room was still open.

He almost grabbed the key that hung from the hook inside and, clutching it tightly, he broke into a trot as he hurried back and breathlessly rejoined Fidelma. She had taken the opportunity to rest and was sitting with her back against the stone hut, looking moodily out over the waters.

‘Well?’ she enquired.

‘I have it,’ muttered Eadulf, and quickly inserted the key into the lock. It fitted. In his nervousness it took him a few attempts to turn it but finally it clicked and he pushed the door open.

Fidelma had risen and was at his shoulder as he moved into the noxious-smelling single room of the building. Two windows let in a bright light from the sea and there was no need for an artificial light. Perhaps it was just as well, for the smell of sulphur was overpowering and Eadulf knew that it could be flammable. The place was similar to an apothecary’s shop, for there were various jars of strange-looking concoctions on shelves around the room and a workbench. And in one corner was a potter’s wheel,

‘Pottery? And why the sulphur, I wonder?’ Eadulf mused.

Fidelma had picked up some branches of an evergreen from a workbench and peered at it curiously.

‘It looks as if someone has been extracting the resin from this. What do you make of it, Eadulf?’

He shook his head. ‘This is beyond me,’ he admitted. ‘And — look!’

Near the potter’s wheel, standing along the wall, was a line of newly made pots. Except on closer inspection they were not pots at all. They were round balls the size of a man’s head. There was neither hole nor means of ingress into them. Eadulf bent down to pick one up and found that it was not very heavy. The balls were obviously hollow, but there was a strange imbalance to the one he was holding. He raised it and jerked it from side to side.

‘It is hollow but I think there is liquid inside,’ he announced.

‘Break one open and let us see,’ advised Fidelma. ‘Whoever is mixing strange potions here, I wonder why he keeps it so secret.’

Eadulf raised the ball in both hands, ready to smash it on the ground.

‘Stop!’ cried a sharp voice. ‘Stay absolutely still, if you value your lives!’