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point where a bridge crossed to a small island in the middle before continuing on to the far bank. On the island stood a small fortification which served to protect the approaches to Cashel in times of war. Dense woodland grew on either side of the broad waters.
    Eadulf recalled the last time he had ridden along this highway with Fidelma. He shivered slightly, for then they had been held up by warriors of the Uí Fidgente when they had been on a journey to Imleach to investigate the mysterious disappearance of the holy relics of St Ailbe and Brother Mochta, Keeper of the Holy Relics. Eadulf glanced nervously about him as they rode up to the bridge. They had been waylaid by enemy warriors at this very spot and he had been forced to swim with his horse, gasping for breath as the icy river clutched at him.
    The brooding waters were beginning to reflect the spreading dark clouds coming from the west, which reared up into a flattened anvil shape dominating the sky. Fidelma glanced up.
    Thunder clouds,’ she muttered. ‘We might have to seek shelter before we reach Imleach.’
    Eadulf recalled that beyond the bridge there was a settlement called the Well of Ara where they had stayed before. A man called Aona who had once commanded the bodyguard of the king of Cashel ran the inn there.
    He started nervously.
    ‘What is it?’ whispered Fidelma, catching his movement.
    ‘I think that there is someone hidden in the fortress on the island. There is someone watching us.’
    Capa edged his horse forward, overhearing Eadulf ‘s alarm.
    They should be our warriors, lady. Men were sent out to patrol the roads soon after we discovered the body of Sárait and realised the child was missing. I posted three of my men to check all travellers crossing the bridge.’
    He urged his mount forward and led the way across the bridge. Eadulf watched anxiously as a warrior emerged from the small rath ahead of them and made his way to greet them. He saluted Capa and his eyes widened a little as he recognised Fidelma and Eadulf.
    ‘What news?’ Capa demanded.
    ‘Little to tell, lord,’ the man replied. There has been nothing out of the ordinary along the road. Soon after we arrived, a band of pilgrims crossed here. Apart from those, only local folk have crossed about their business and they have been well known to us. That is all. No sign of anyone with a baby…’ He cast a look at Fidelma and dropped his eyes awkwardly.
    ‘Have you watched both day and night?’ Capa said sharply, demanding the man’s attention.
    ‘My comrades and I have done so most diligently. From the morning that Finguine sent us here, the morning when the alarm was raised, we have maintained a constant watch. We have taken turns on watch - one to watch while the others slept. But no one has ever attempted to cross the bridge at night.’
    Eadulf pursed his lips with cynicism. ‘Why cross this bridge at all? There are fords further upstream. Besides, whoever did this deed could have crossed in the hours of darkness on the very night that Sárait was slain and the baby taken,’ he pointed out. This might be a matter of closing the stable door after the horse has bolted.’
    ‘You may be right, Brother Eadulf,’ Capa agreed with reluctance. ‘But the alarm was raised and patrols sent into the countryside as soon as the facts were learnt. It was better to do something than nothing.’
    Tell me more about the pilgrims,’ Fidelma queried, leaning forward slightly to give emphasis to her interest.
    The man frowned as if gathering his thoughts, pausing for a moment before replying.
    ‘Little to tell, lady. We passed them on the road, for they were on foot and we were on horseback. We came here and eventually they caught up with us. There were about six of them. I have seen their sort many timesen route to holy sanctuaries in search of cures for their ailments. There was nothing to distinguish them, one from another. Each one of them was clad in robes, and they had their