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stone-flagged hearth. A young woman was bending over an oil lamp set on a central table and adjusting its flickering wick. She glanced up, startled by their silent entrance, and Fidelma noticed that her eyes seemed red-rimmed. The light flickered on the tears gathered on her lashes.
    She straightened up quickly, raising a hand to wipe her eyes. Fidelma took in the girl’s attractive features. She had a fair skin, blue eyes and a shock of golden hair.
    ‘I am Sister Sinnchéne,’ she announced with a sniff. ‘I presume that you are the guests we have been expecting? How may I be of assistance to you?’
    It was clear that they had entered on some private moment of grief that she had no wish to share.
    Fidelma introduced herself and Eadulf. It was clear that the young woman did not know of Fidelma’s relationship to the king of Muman.
    ‘Will you be wanting to bathe after your journey, Sister?’ she asked. ‘I can have hot water ready in the bathhouse shortly. Our facilities are primitive so there are no separate arrangements for men and women. If your companion can wait until you have finished, I will ensure there is hot water for him as well.’
    Eadulf had never really understood the Irish passion for such fastidious cleanliness. In the land of the South Folk, bathing had consisted of a dip in the river and that carried out none too often.

    ‘I can wait,’ he agreed hurriedly.
    ‘There are separate chambers for your sleeping quarters,’ Sister Sinnchéne continued, pointing to a corridor that led off from the room behind her. ‘The bathing house and defectarium stand beyond.’
    ‘The lord Conrí and two of his warriors accompanied us here. They will be wanting beds,’ Fidelma pointed out.
    ‘The warriors will doubtless make do with beds in the dormitory.’ Sister Sinnchéne’s voice was brisk and business-like. ‘If you will choose your chamber, Sister, I shall return and tell you when the water is heated.’
    She moved off in a brisk fashion.
    Fidelma went into the corridor. There were three or four cell-like rooms leading off it, each only big enough for a cot-like bed and little else. She entered the first room and threw her bag down on the bed with a sigh. Eadulf took the next room and followed Fidelma back to the main chamber, where she sank into the nearest chair.
    ‘While we have this moment alone,’ she said abruptly, ‘you’d best tell me what troubles you.’
    Eadulf raised his eyebrows.
    ‘Should anything trouble me?’ he asked in feigned innocence.
    Fidelma grimaced with annoyance.
    ‘All through the journey here you have been as querulous as an old woman. It would be better to say what is on your mind now rather than leave it until later.’
    Eadulf hesitated, shrugged and sat down opposite her.
    ‘What troubles me is the same matter that has troubled me since Conrí came to Cashel,’ he said heavily.
    ‘Which is?’ prompted Fidelma sharply.
    ‘It is barely a few weeks since our son, Alchú, was abducted. Thanks be to God that we recovered him safely. We had scarcely reunited as a family, scarcely made it back to safety in Cashel. It was clearly time to settle down for a while. Then along comes Conrí and you decide to go charging off into dangerous territory. This area may still be within your brother’s kingdom but it is an area that has been in constant rebellion against him. And all because this Conrí pleads with you to do so.’
    Fidelma returned his gaze with an expression of sadness. For a moment, Eadulf recognised the hurt in her eyes.
    ‘Eadulf,’ her voice was heavy with emphasis, ‘I am Alchú’s mother. Do you think I care nothing about my son? My pain in leaving him in Cashel
after so short a time is as great, if not greater, than your own. However, I am sister to the King and, as well you know, above all things, I am a dálaigh. That is my training, that is my skill in life. You know the problems that my brother has had with the Uí Fidgente. Now I am presented