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horses while she made her way to the chambers that she and Eadulf shared. Muirgen, the nurse, had been alerted to her arrival and was already waiting to greet her, holding young Alchú by the hand. Fidelma paused on the threshold, her eyes anxiously on the child. A moment’s examination to ensure that he was well and then she crouched down with her arms held out. Muirgen let go of the boy’s hand and he came stumbling into his mother’s embrace. They clung together, making those strange, inarticulate sounds that only a mother and child can exchange.
    Finally, Fidelma glanced up at the old nurse with a smile. ‘Has all been well, Muirgen?’
    ‘Yes, lady,’ the nurse replied. ‘Brother Eadulf returned yesterday and he is in good spirits.’
    ‘He has returned already?’ Fidelma was surprised. ‘Where is he?’
    ‘He is with Bishop Ségdae discussing his findings at Ros Ailithir. Now – shall I prepare a bath or would you prefer refreshments first?’
    Fidelma stood up and threw off her badger-fur riding cloak. ‘We halted at Ferloga’s inn to break our fast this morning, so a bath would not come amiss,’ she replied, before turning to her son. ‘Come, my little hound. We’ll sit for a while until Muirgen has prepared my bath. Your mother is dusty after such a long ride this morning.’
    As Muirgen headed for the door, it opened suddenly and Eadulf came hurrying in, his face expectant.
    ‘I heard that—’ He stopped when he saw Fidelma and made straight for her. Wisely, Muirgen left them together, closing the door quietly behind her.
    After a while, Eadulf was anxiously plying Fidelma with questions.
Little Alchú had wandered to a corner to play with his toys. Fidelma assured Eadulf that her time at Lios Mhór had been a tedious one with nothing exciting about the charges brought by the plaintiffs. Eadulf told her that his trip to Ros Ailithir had been equally boring, the return journey even more so. Then his eyes fell on the staff that Fidelma had brought with her. He picked it up and examined the curious mountings.
    ‘This is a strange object for you to be presented with.’
    ‘I was not presented with it,’ said Fidelma. Briefly, she recounted the events at Ferloga’s inn. ‘I thought that I would show it to old Brother Conchobhar as he knows much about such things. As soon as I have bathed and rested, I’ll go and have a word with him.’
    She showed Eadulf the other items that she had brought from Ferloga’s inn.
    ‘So there is no indication of the old man’s identity among his possessions? ’ asked Eadulf,
    Fidelma shook her head. ‘It would be sad for him to be buried without a name, for he must have been someone of consequence to have such belongings.’
    ‘And the coins,’ added Eadulf, as he inspected them. ‘These coins are valuable. I wonder what manner of man he was?’
    ‘It is a waste of time to speculate without facts,’ Fidelma admonished, but with a mischievous smile for it was a saying of which she was particularly fond. ‘We’ll wait to hear what old Conchobhar has to say.’
    It was late afternoon before Fidelma made her way down to Brother Conchobhar’s apothecary shop, tucked away in the shadow of the chapel within the fortress complex. Eadulf had been summoned back to Bishop Ségdae for further discussions and so she had gone alone.
    As she entered the gloomy interior, the musky smell of the dried herbs and potions caused her to halt momentarily and catch her breath. The odours were not unpleasant but merely heavy. At the far end of the shop, bent over a table with pestle and mortar and various bowls and vessels, beneath a hanging oil lamp, was an old man in worn and stained brown robes.
    He glanced up and, seeing her there, he rose from his stool, coming forward with a smile and outstretched hands to greet her. Brother Conchobhar had known Fidelma since childhood for he had served her father, the King Failbe Flann, and, indeed, other kings of Cashel before and