6- Valley of the Shadow by Peter Tremayne

Author:Peter Tremayne [Tremayne, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: _rt_yes, Church History, Fiction, tpl, _NB_fixed, Mystery, Historical, Clerical Sleuth, Medieval Ireland
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2012-03-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Something had awakened her.

She was not sure what it was. It was still dark. She lay on her bed listening carefully. Then she realised the cause. It had been the sound of whispered voices. They were low but intense enough to penetrate into her fitful sleep.

‘Very well. It has to be done.’

She sought to identify the voice. It was a moment or two before she realised that it was the young monk, Brother Dianach, who was speaking. Then she located where the voices were coming from, Brother Dianach’s sleeping chamber. The rooms were only partitioned by wood and so the sounds were not exactly muffled.

She did not move but lay listening intently for the second voice. She had already guessed who it would be. She was not disappointed.

‘Give me the vellum and I will hand it to him.’

It was Brother Solin’s voice.

‘I have it here.’

Solin gave a hiss. ‘Not so loud, boy, otherwise you might wake our fellow guests. We would not want that to happen.’

Brother Dianach gave an uncharacteristic laugh.

‘The Saxon will not wake. He quaffed enough mead and wine to sleep a week. Listen, you can hear him snoring like a pig!’

‘Quickly, now!’ Brother Solin became impatient. ‘It is essential I keep the rendezvous.’

‘Here is the vellum, Brother.’

There was a silence as if Solin were checking the object that he had been handed.

‘Good. Now back to sleep with you. I will report to you in the morning. If all goes well, Cashel will fall to us before the summer is out.’

Fidelma started up with a jerk. It was a reaction which she could not help. It was lucky that her movement had been drowned by the departure of Solin himself. Fidelma sat for a moment, heart pounding. She could hear from the soft footfalls that Solin was tip-toeing past her sleeping chamber. She swung out of bed and dragged on her robe and leather-soled shoes.

Solin had left the hostel by the time she had reached the head of the stairs but she had to refrain from any hurried descent for it would alert Brother Dianach. There was no time to wake Eadulf who slept in the chamber opposite. She went as swiftly as she could down the stairs and out into the cold darkness of the early morning.

The night was so still; so quiet. Yet the moon, although passed its full, shone with a bright white light, bathing the courtyard with its eerie glow. The figure of Brother Solin was hurrying quietly across the courtyard. She could see that he was carrying something, something white and rolled up in one hand. She found she had to wait in the darkened shadows of the hostel door because the moonlight was too intense to venture straight across the courtyard after him.

Brother Solin vanished round the corner of the building complex which she and Eadulf had visited a few hours before. Only after he had turned the corner did she hurry forward. Having reached the corner, she halted and peered carefully around it.

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