The Subtle Serpent by Peter Tremayne Page A

trouble, I will do what I can to help him.’
    Ross nodded imperturbably.
    ‘Just so,’ he said quietly. She knew he was not fooled at all by her protest.
    ‘And at the moment,’ Fidelma continued, ‘I have other
things to do. My duty is now to the Abbess Draigen. I may be several days at the abbey here before I can spend time searching. And what will I be searching for?’
    ‘Of course, your duty comes first,’ Ross assured her. ‘However, if it would help you, sister, while you are ashore at the abbey, I could take my barc and sail to the points I have indicated to see if there is any sign of a solution to this mystery. I will leave Odar and another man to keep an eye on this vessel and you may call on them should you need to.’
    Fidelma’s face flushed. Then, with an abrupt movement, she bent forward and kissed the old seaman on the cheek.
    ‘Bless you, Ross,’ her voice had a catch which she could not disguise.
    Ross smiled awkwardly.
    ‘It is nothing. We’ll sail on the early morning tide and return within a day or two, no longer. If we find anything …’
    ‘Come and tell me first.’
    ‘Even as you say,’ agreed the sailor.
    Across the darkening waters of the inlet they heard the sounding of a bell.
    ‘Time for me to go to the abbey.’ Fidelma moved forward to the rail of the ship. She paused and glanced quickly across her shoulder at Ross. ‘God watch over your voyage, Ross.’ Her expression was serious. ‘I do fear that there is some evil human agency at work here. I would not want to lose you.’

Chapter Four
    ‘And now, sister, I presume that you would like to inspect the corpse?’
    Sister Fidelma started in surprise at Abbess Draigen’s suggestion. They were emerging from the abbey’s refectory in which most of the community of The Salmon of the Three Wells had taken the evening meal together.
    Night had already settled over the tiny community and the buildings were shrouded in gloom although lamps had been lit in strategic places among the buildings to aid the sisters. It was another cold night and already a frost lay white over the ground, almost like a covering of snow. The wood fires were smoking among the abbey buildings. So far as Fidelma had been able to discern, there were a dozen buildings centred around a granite paved courtyard, in which a high cross had been erected. On one side of the courtyard was a cloister which fronted a tall wooden building, the duirthech or oak house, which was the abbey chapel. In fact, the majority of the buildings were wooden constructions, mainly built of oak timbers. The surrounding countryside was replete with oaks. There were also a few buildings of stone. Fidelma presumed these to be store rooms. Dominating all these buildings, and situated at one end of the duirthech , was a squat tower with stone foundations but wooden upper floors.
    The abbey of The Salmon of the Three Wells was not unusual from many that Fidelma had seen in the length and breadth of the five kingdoms. There were, however, no outer
walls such as at the main abbey complexes like Ros Ailithir. She had gathered, during the meal at which some conversation was allowed, unlike other houses where a lector usually intoned passages from the Gospels, that only fifty sisters constituted the community. Under the direction of the Abbess Draigen, one of the main devotions of the community was the keeping of a water-clock and the recording of the passing of time. The abbey, it seemed, was also proud of its library and some of the sisters spent their time in copying books for other communities. It was a quiet backwater, engaged in no more controversial work than study and contemplation.
    ‘Well, sister,’ inquired the abbess again, ‘do you want to see the corpse?’
    ‘I do,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘Though I am surprised that you have not yet buried it. How many days is it since it was discovered?’
    The abbess turned from the door of the refectory and led the way across the courtyard