ask such a question. At the foot of the steps, he turned to watch her descent with a critical eye. Fidelma swung herself down and paused to meet the lad’s reluctant nod of approval.
‘One of your friends slipped and fell on those steps, and that was while we were riding at anchor,’ he volunteered airily. ‘Landlubbers ! ’
‘Was he or she hurt?’ demanded Fidelma, aghast at the youth’s callousness.
‘Only their dignity was bruised, if you know what I mean,’ he replied lightly. ‘This way, Sister.’
He entered a doorway – Fidelma wished she could remember the correct nautical terms – and started down a narrow, dingy set of stairs into the cabin space below. Fidelma came to know that it was called a companionway. A single storm lantern swung and bounced on a chain in the passageway, giving a dim illumination to the darkness.
‘You’ve been placed in a cabin with one of the other Sisters at
the far end here.’ The boy pointed. ‘The other travellers occupy the cabins along here. When I am not on deck then I sleep in the big cabin through there.’ He waved his hand for’ard. ‘That’s where we prepare food and eat. It’s called the mess deck. I am always around, if anything is needed.’ He threw out his chest in an attitude of pride. ‘The captain … well, he likes the passengers to deal with me and, if there is anything of an urgent nature, I can pass it on to him. He doesn’t like to have much to do with those who take passage on the ship …’ The boy paused as if waiting for some response.
‘Very well, Wenbrit,’ Fidelma acknowledged solemnly. ‘If there are any problems, I will consult you first.’
‘There will be a meal at midday and the captain will attend in order to explain the running of the ship to you all. But he doesn’t usually eat with the passengers. He makes an exception on the first day out to ensure everyone knows what’s what. And, of course, don’t expect hot meals on the voyage. Which reminds me, if you light candles below decks, make sure they are not left unattended. I’ve heard of ships flaring up like a tinder box.’
Fidelma did her best to hide her humour at the boy’s studied self-confident air of a veteran sailor.
‘There is a meal at midday, you say?’
‘I will ring a bell which will summon the passengers to the meal.’
‘Very well.’ Fidelma made to turn to the cabin door indicated by the boy.
‘Oh, one more thing …’
She turned back enquiringly towards him.
‘I am required to tell you that these cabins are aft in the vessel. That’s the stern. On the deck above is the captain’s cabin and other quarters. For’ard lies in that direction. It is also called the bow of the ship. There is a privy at the stern here, through that door there. And there is one up in the bow. Anyone will tell you where it is, should the need arise. If there are any problems, if we need to abandon ship, there are two small boats lashed to the deck athwart ships – that is in the middle of the ship. That is where you should make for if we get in trouble. Don’t worry, one of the crew will inform you of what you should do.’
The boy turned abruptly and hurried back on deck.
Fidelma stood, letting a smile spread across her features. It was clear that young Wenbrit did not have a high regard for ‘landlubbers’ as he called the passengers. She turned back towards the cabin door which he had indicated. As she did so, a door opened on the other side of the passage just behind her. She heard a sharp intake of breath and
then a soft masculine voice said: ‘Fidelma! What in God’s name are you doing here?’
She swung round, trying to identify the voice from some long-past memory, a memory that she had almost managed to expunge.
A tall man stood there, irregularly illuminated by the light of the swinging lantern.
Fidelma took an involuntary step backward, reaching out a hand to grasp the wooden wall as if for balance. This was her first bout of