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spoke quickly before the crimson-faced old man could respond.
    They all turned back to him.
    ‘Such as?’ asked Cerball with interest, forgetting himself and glancing up from his tablet and stylus where he was still recording the council’s words.
    ‘There is a purpose behind every action,’ replied Eadulf. ‘Have we considered the purpose behind these actions?’
    They stared blankly at him, with the exception of Fidelma who gave him an encouraging glance.
    ‘Let us pose a question,’ he continued. ‘Was the purpose to entice Sárait out to the woods and kill her? Or was the purpose to entice her out with the baby and seize it to carry it away? Was the slaying of Sárait simply the inevitable result of the killer’s attempting to kidnap the child?’
    ‘Or, having killed Sárait, the intended victim all along, did the killer find himself left with the baby on his hands and have no option but to take it away?’ Brehon Dathal ended.
    Bishop Ségdae grimaced wryly. ‘I can’t see a killer, having just stabbed the nurse to death, having such solicitous feelings for a helpless baby that he takes it away with him to save it from the perils of the night.’
    Fidelma raised an eyebrow quizzically. ‘I notice that you all refer to the killer in masculine form. Do you have knowledge of the sex of the killer or is it that you do not believe a female capable of killing?’
    The bishop stared at her. ‘We presumed that—’
    ‘I see.’ Fidelma cut him short. She turned to the others. ‘Presumption is a dangerous thing. We must keep an open mind on all things. Eadulf’s questions are ones that have to be considered carefully.’
    Brehon Dathal was shaking his head.
    ‘There is a difference between someone’s snatching a baby on the spur of the moment and abducting it by design. I have come across a casewhere a demented woman, having lost her own child, snatched a baby as some sort of replacement. But what is being suggested here is…’
    ‘Fúatach. ’ Fidelma used the old legal term for an act of carrying off forcibly.
    ‘For ransom?’ Brehon Dathal’s voice was incredulous and it seemed that he quite forgot to whom he spoke. ‘No ransom demand has yet been made. If it were abduction we would have heard by now. I think we can dismiss such an ill-conceived notion…’
    Colgú began to rise with a deep frown of annoyance. It was the tanist, Finguine, who reached out a hand and placed it as if in pacification on the king’s arm to hold him in his seat.
    ‘It is true,’ Finguine said hurriedly, ‘that we have had no demands made upon us that would warrant our coming to a belief in the idea that Alchú was kidnapped for a ransom. But we should not rule out the possibility altogether.’
    ‘We have searched the surrounding countryside,’ Capa pointed out. ‘There is no sign of the child that Caol has described as coming to the palace and no sign of Alchú. Unless he and his abductors are well hidden, he must have been removed from the area.’
    There was another silence. Eadulf sighed inwardly. It appeared that there was no path down which to proceed.
    ‘I say that the baby must have been snatched by someone seeking a child,’ Brehon Dathal announced. ‘Any child and not necessarily the son of Fidelma. Whoever has him has moved on, passing through this territory. I see no other conclusion.’
    Eadulf saw Fidelma’s mouth tighten. Then, surprisingly, she relaxed in a smile, a sarcastic smile but a smile nevertheless. She turned to Capa.
    ‘The Brehon Dathal has made a good point,’ she said. Eadulf almost flinched waiting for the biting sarcasm that must surely follow, for he knew that she did not have too high an opinion of the pompous chief judge of Muman. But the sarcasm did not come. ‘Cast your mind back three or four days - or to a period just before - and tell us what strangers passed through Cashel?’
    Capa shook his head as he vainly tried to dredge his memories but it was Finguine the