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light when one is dying?’ retorted the other. ‘Who are you, anyway? This is my cabin.’
    Fidelma re-opened the door to let in some light from the passageway. Just inside the door, she saw a candle stub, which she took to the flickering lantern outside. Thankfully, Cian had disappeared. It took a few moments to light the candle from the lantern and return.
    Now Fidelma could see a woman lying on the bottom of the two bunks in the tiny cabin. Her habit appeared dishevelled, her face was
deathly pale, though still fairly attractive. She was young, perhaps in her early twenties. By the side of the bunk stood a bucket.
    ‘Are you seasick?’ She spoke sympathetically, fully aware that she was asking the obvious.
    ‘I am dying,’ insisted the woman. ‘I wish to die alone. I did not know it would be as bad as this.’
    Fidelma glanced round quickly. She saw that her baggage had been placed on the second bunk.
    ‘I can’t let you do that, Sister. I am sharing your cabin for this voyage. My name’s Fidelma of Cashel,’ she added brightly.
    ‘You are mistaken. You are not one of my company. I have allotted cabins to each and—’
    ‘The captain has put me in here,’ Fidelma explained quickly, ‘and now let me help you.’
    There was a pause. The young, pale-faced Sister groaned loudly.
    ‘Then put that light out. I cannot stand a flickering light. After that, go away and tell the captain that I want to be left alone to die in the dark. I demand that you go away!’
    Fidelma groaned inwardly. It was all she needed, to be closeted with a moaning hypochondriac.
    ‘I am sure that you would feel better if you were up on deck rather than in this confined space,’ she replied. ‘What’s your name, by the way?’
    ‘Muirgel.’ The other’s voice was no more than a moan. ‘Sister Muirgel from Moville.’
    Fidelma had heard of the Abbey founded by St Finnian a century ago on the shores of Loch Cúan in Ulaidh.
    ‘Well, Sister Muirgel, let me see what I can do for you,’ Fidelma said determinedly.
    ‘Just let me die in peace, Sister,’ whimpered the other. ‘Can’t you find some other cabin to be cheerful in?’
    ‘You need air, fresh sea air,’ Fidelma admonished. ‘The darkness and stuffiness of this cabin will only increase your illness.’
    The creature on the bunk retched pitifully and did not reply.
    ‘I have heard that if you concentrate your gaze on the horizon then the motion sickness will eventually depart,’ volunteered Fidelma.
    Sister Muirgel tried to raise her head.
    ‘Just leave me alone, please,’ she moaned yet again and added spitefully, ‘Go and bother someone else.’

Chapter Four
    Fidelma had to admit defeat. It was no use trying to conduct a sensible conversation with the young woman in that condition. She wondered if there was another cabin available. Anywhere would be better than being stuck with someone tormented by largely imaginary fears. Fidelma was sympathetic to anyone who was ill, but not with someone who had the ability to help themselves and chose not to. She decided to find the cabin boy, Wenbrit, and explain the problem.
    As she left the cabin, she was surprised to meet Wenbrit himself coming down the stairs. He greeted her with a smile and she noticed that his manner towards her had undergone a slight change. It was less familiar … less impudent than before.
    ‘Your pardon, lady.’ Fidelma guessed immediately the cause for his changed attitude, and she hid her annoyance that Murchad had revealed her identity. ‘I made a mistake,’ he said politely. ‘You are to have a different cabin as you are not one of the pilgrims from Ulaidh.’
    Fidelma knew straight away that it was a lie. Murchad had decided this only after he knew who she was. She did not want any special privileges. However, the indisposition of Sister Muirgel and the stifling atmosphere made the thought of a private cabin appear very attractive. It was coincidental that she was being offered the very