Act of Mercy by Peter Tremayne Read Free Book Online

thing that she was going to seek.
    ‘The Sister with whom I was going to share is rather ill,’ Fidelma conceded. ‘Perhaps it would be nice to have a cabin to oneself.’
    Wenbrit was grinning.
    ‘Seasickness, eh? Well, I suppose the best of people fall prey to it. Yet she looked well enough when she came on board. I would not have thought that she would be the one to fall ill.’
    ‘I tried to tell her that lying down in an enclosed space without light or ventilation was not going to cure her,’ Fidelma explained, ‘but she would not take advice from me.’
    ‘Nor me, lady. But sickness takes people different ways.’ Wenbrit aired his philosophy seriously as if it were born of many years’ experience. Then he grinned. ‘Wait here, I’ll get your dunnage.’

    ‘My what?’ It was the second time she had heard the unfamiliar word.
    Wenbrit assumed the expression of one who is teaching a very backward person.
    ‘Your baggage, lady. Now that you are on shipboard you’ll have to get use to sailor’s jargon.’
    ‘I see. Dunnage. Very well.’
    Wenbrit went to knock on the door of the cabin which Fidelma had just left, and disappeared inside for a few moments, emerging with her bag.
    ‘Come on, lady, I will show you to your cabin.’
    He turned and started back up the companionway to the main deck.
    ‘Is the cabin not on this deck?’ asked Fidelma as they went up.
    ‘There is a for’ard deck cabin available. It even has a natural light in it. Murchad thought that it would be more fitting for …’ The boy stopped himself.
    ‘And what has Murchad been saying?’ she demanded, knowing full well the answer.
    The boy looked uncomfortable.
    ‘I was not supposed to let you know.’
    ‘Murchad has a big mouth.’
    ‘The captain only wants you to be comfortable, lady,’ Wenbrit replied, a trifle indignantly.
    Fidelma reached out a hand and laid it on the boy’s arm. She spoke with firmness.
    ‘I told your captain that I did not want special privileges. I am just another religieuse on this voyage. I would not want others to be treated unfairly. To start with, stop calling me “lady”. I am Sister Fidelma.’
    The boy said nothing, only blinked a little at her rebuke. Then Fidelma felt guilty for her cold attitude.
    ‘It’s not your fault, Wenbrit. I asked Murchad not to tell anyone. Since you know, will you keep my secret?’
    The boy nodded.
    ‘Murchad only wanted you to be comfortable on his ship,’ he repeated and added defensively: ‘It’s not his fault, either.’
    ‘You like your captain, don’t you?’ Fidelma smiled at the protective tone in the boy’s voice.
    ‘He is a good captain,’ Wenbrit replied shortly. ‘This way, lady … Sister.’
    The boy led her across the main deck, beyond the tall oak mast with its single great leather sail, still cracking in the wind. She glanced up
and saw that a design had been painted on the front of the sail: it was that of a great red cross, the centre of which was enclosed in a circle.
    The boy saw her looking upwards.
    ‘The captain decided to have that painted,’ he explained proudly. ‘We carry so many pilgrims these days that he thought it would be most appropriate.’
    The boy moved off again and Fidelma followed as he led the way to the high prow of the ship across which the long-angled mast cleaved upwards towards the sky, bearing on a cross yard, the steering sail. It was a smaller sail than the mainsail and this helped control the direction of the vessel. The bow of the ship rose so that, as at the stern, it presented an area where there were a number of cabins on the main deck level. Like the stern deck area there were some steps leading up to a deck on top of them. Two square openings covered by grilles looked out on the main deck on either side of an entry which led to the cabins beyond.
    Wenbrit opened this door and went in. Fidelma followed and found herself in a small passageway beyond with three doors, one to the right, one left