The Subtle Serpent by Peter Tremayne

either without a cargo or with a cargo more easily removed at sea?’
    ‘There is a logic in that suggestion,’ Ross admitted.
    ‘Then I think we are progressing,’ Fidelma said triumphantly. ‘Now, let us reflect on what else we know. There is blood in this ship. Some of the blood was below deck. There was also some blood of more recent shedding on a strip of linen found caught in the rigging and smeared on the handrail below the rigging. That blood, though dried, is not old and was probably spilt within the last twelve to twenty-four hours. The blood could belong to a crew member or …’ she paused and tried not to think of Eadulf, ‘or to a passenger.’

    ‘Why not to one of the raiders?’ demanded Ross. ‘One of those who removed the cargo or the crew?’
    Fidelma reflected on the point and then conceded the possibility.
    ‘Why not? And, of course, who is to say that there was a raider or raiders? Perhaps the crew themselves took the cargo and left their vessel.’ She held up her hand as Ross started to point out the objections to such an idea. ‘Very well. The main point is that the blood seems to have been spilt during the time of the crew’s disappearance; at the moment when whatever happened on board the ship took place.’
    Ross waited while she reviewed the matter silently.
    ‘The ship’s fore and aft mooring ropes were severed, as if by an axe. From that we learn that she must have been moored against something, not merely anchored in a harbour for the anchor is still in place but the mooring ropes are cut. Why? Why not simply untie the mooring ropes? Was someone on board in a hurry to depart from somewhere? Or was the ship tied to another vessel and then cut adrift?’
    Ross glanced admiringly at Fidelma as she conjured possibilities.
    ‘How long was she under view until we boarded her?’ she asked him abruptly.
    ‘I had noticed her about half an hour before Odar drew attention to her dangerous course. We took a further half an hour to close up and board her.’
    ‘This means that the ship might have been close to this shore when whatever took place. Do you agree?’
    ‘Why so?’
    ‘The ship could only have been attacked within the last twelve to twenty-four hours before we sighted her.’ She suddenly straightened. ‘You know this coast well, don’t you, Ross?’
    ‘I know it,’ he admitted, without boasting. ‘I have sailed these waters for forty years.’
    ‘Can you judge by the winds and tides what place this ship
might have sailed from to the spot when you first sighted her?’
    Ross looked at Fidelma’s excited features. He did not want to disappoint her.
    ‘It is difficult, even knowing the tides. The blustery winds are changeable and inconsistent.’
    Fidelma’s mouth drooped in disappointment.
    Seeing her dissatisfaction, he added hastily: ‘But I can, perhaps, calculate a good guess. I think it is safe to say that there are two probable places. The mouth of this bay or further around at the southern end of this peninsula. The tides from those points would certainly carry the ship in the direction of the spot we first saw her at.’
    ‘That gives us a wide area of territory to search.’ Fidelma was still not satisfied.
    ‘This friend to whom that book satchel belongs …’ Ross changed the subject, then hesitated. “This friends … was he a good friend?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Ross caught the emotional tightness in her voice as she uttered the single syllable. He waited a moment and then said softly:
    ‘I have a daughter of your age, sister. Oh, she is on shore and married. Her mother lives with someone else. I do not pretend to have an understanding of women. One thing I know, my daughter’s husband was lost at sea. That same look of hurt and anguish in her eyes on the morning the news came to Ros Ailithir, I now see in your eyes.’
    Fidelma drew herself up defensively with a snort of irritation.
    ‘Brother Eadulf is simply a friend of mine, that is all. If he is in