Read Suffer Little Children for Free Online

indicated the direction with a wave of his hand. Then he winced as a sudden cold wind caught him full in the face. ‘But let us descend out of this wind, sister.’
    He urged his horse forward and Fidelma allowed him a moment to get a length ahead before she followed.
    In addition to the intemperate weather, which had made their journey so unpleasant, Fidelma found that Cass was no easy travelling companion. He had only a little fund of small talk and Fidelma kept rebuking herself for the way she kept comparing him to Brother Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham, her companion at Whitby and Rome. To her annoyance, she found that she felt a curious kind of isolation, the feeling that she had experienced when she had left Eadulf in Rome to return to her native land. She did not want to admit that she missed the company of the Saxon monk. And it was wrong of her to keep comparing Cass with Eadulf and yet …
    She had managed to learn from the taciturn warrior that he had been in the service of Cathal of Cashel ever since he had reached the ‘age of choice’ and left his father’s house to take service at the court of the king. Fidelma found that he had a only a slight general knowledge. He had studied at one of Muman’s military academies before becoming a professional warrior or tren-fher. He had distinguished himself in two campaigns, becoming the commander of a catha, a battalion of three thousand men, in the king’s army in time of war. Yet
Cass was not one to boast of his prowess in arms. At least that was a saving grace. Fidelma had made enquiries about him before they had set out from Cashel. She discovered that he had successfully fought seven single combats in Muman’s service to become a member of the Order of the Golden Collar and champion of the king.
    She nudged her horse down the steep path behind him, twisting and turning sometimes into the wind and sometimes in thankful shelter from it. By the time they reached the foot of the mountain, the blustery squall had begun to ease a little and Fidelma saw the bright line of light along the horizon of the western sky.
    Cass smiled as he followed her glance.
    â€˜The clouds will be gone by tomorrow,’ he predicted confidently. ‘The wind was bringing the storm from the south-west. Now it will bring fine weather.’
    Fidelma did not reply. Something had caught her attention among the foothills to the south-east. At first she had thought that it was merely a reflection from the light of the sun breaking through the heavy clouds. But what could it be reflecting against? It took her a moment or two to realise what it was.
    â€˜That’s a fire over there, Cass!’ she cried, indicating the direction. ‘And a big one, if I am not mistaken.’
    Cass followed her outstretched hand with keen eyes.
    â€˜A big fire, indeed, sister. There is a village that lies in that direction. A poor place with a single religious cell and a dozen houses. I stayed there six months ago when I was in this country. It is called Rae na Scríne, the holy shrine at the level spot. What could be causing such a fire there? Perhaps we should investigate?’
    Fidelma delayed, compressing her lips a moment in thought. Her task was to get to Ros Ailithir as quickly as possible.
    Cass frowned at her hesitation.
    â€˜It is on our path to Ros Ailithir, sister, and the religious cell
is occupied by a young religieuse named Sister Eisten. She may be in trouble.’ His tone was one of rebuke.
    Fidelma flushed, for she knew her duty. Only her greater obligation to the kingdom of Muman had caused her to falter.
    Instead of answering him, she dug her heels into the sides of her horse and urged it forward in annoyance at Cass’s gentle tone of reproval at her indecision.
    It took them some time to reach a spot in the road which was the brow of a small, thickly wooded hillock, overlooking the hamlet of Rae na Scríne. From their position on the