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elderly chieftain, having realised that he was talking about the time when Julius Caesar had conquered Gaul.
    ‘You are right,’ the chieftain replied with a shrug. ‘But, as I say,such bloody events have been frequent here. It is not long since we had Saxon raiders attacking this very island.’
    It was Eadulf’s turn to look uncomfortable. ‘But we are talking of pirates and in recent times,’ he pressed. ‘We are looking for some means to identify our attacker.’
    Lowenen shrugged. ‘The great port of Naoned lies not far to the east of us on the mainland. It is a rich port. Merchants grow wealthy on the trade through that one port alone. Therefore, it is logical that it provides bait that will attract the rats. The Franks cast envious eyes at the town and it is already under pressure from Frankish raids and settlements. When I was young, I sailed there. The Frankish borders of Neustria had not then approached within three days’ ride of Naoned. Now I am told that the Frankish marcher lords claim territory within a quarter of a day’s ride of the port. Their raids are not infrequent. Yes, raiders and pirates are not unknown in these waters, although I have not heard any stories of this black ship with its captain dressed all in white, such as you have described.’
    Brother Metellus was looking at Fidelma. His eyes were troubled.
    ‘There is vengeance on your face, Fidelma of Cashel,’ he observed softly.
    Fidelma’s brows came together, and reading the danger signs, Eadulf jumped in with: ‘Fidelma is highly regarded as a dálaigh , an advocate of the courts of the Five Kingdoms of Éireann, my friend. She is consulted frequently by kings and abbots. Even now we were on our way back to the Kingdom of Muman after attending a Council in Burgundia to advise the prelates there in law at their request. It is not vengeance you will observe, but a desire for justice.’
    But Brother Metellus did not seem impressed. ‘Sometimes justice can be used to mean vengeance,’ he said.
    Fidelma’s lips thinned in annoyance. ‘I took an oath to upholdthe law and to bring to justice those who transgress it. It is true that this act of cold-blooded murder was against my own cousin, Bressal of Cashel, and against my friend, Murchad of Aird Mhór, but it is still justice, not vengeance, that cries out for this captain and his crew to be tracked down.’
    Brother Metellus shrugged as if he would dismiss the matter from his mind.
    ‘Surely, Brother Metellus, your people have a similar law system to that used in the Five Kingdoms of Éireann?’ Eadulf asked. ‘Therefore, if the murderer is caught, would they not be brought before that same justice?’
    ‘I am not a Breton,’ the religious confessed, ‘but I have no quarrel with law and justice. So long as it is clear that justice is the purpose of seeking the perpetrator of this act.’
    Fidelma held his dark eyes steadily. There was a flicker of green fire in her own eyes.
    ‘That is my purpose,’ she said tightly. ‘But if you are not a Breton, where are you from?’
    ‘I was born and raised in Rome,’ he replied.
    Fidelma realised why there had been some reluctance to translate Lowenen’s remarks.
    ‘You are far from home,’ Eadulf observed.
    ‘This is my home now,’ Brother Metellus said quietly. There was a pause, then he had a quick exchange with Lowenen.
    ‘He wonders what you intend to do now,’ translated Brother Metellus.
    ‘There is nothing we can do,’ Fidelma answered, ‘until we find a way of reaching the mainland where we can find someone willing to transport us back to my brother’s kingdom. But for now we are destitute, having nothing save a few personal items and the clothes that we have borrowed from you.’
    ‘How far would this be to the nearest point on the mainland?’ asked Eadulf.
    ‘About twenty kilometres across the water, north from here, is the abbey of Gildas,’ Brother Metellus replied at once. ‘I am under the jurisdiction