‘Do you give in now?’ said the leader.

‘I yield,’ gasped Solomon, aware that the bones in his fingers were starting to snap.

‘Kill him, Eoin, and have done with it.’

‘Trust me, I want to. But we’ve got our orders.’

‘Look what he’s done to Daibhi. Kill him now. We’ll all back you up.’

‘There’s to be no talk of killing, Mici. He’ll stay alive long enough to give his account to the king, and pay his blood debt too. On your feet.’ The man called Eoin poked Solomon with his spear.

Solomon got up, nursing his hand.

‘He’s a giant. That’s not natural,’ said one of the men.

‘I assure you all of my tribe are this tall. Some even taller,’ said Solomon. He looked around at his captors. Mici wanted to run him through. The others would not stop him, either. Fortunately Eoin was in charge of the band of barbarian warriors, and they seemed to defer to him completely.

Unfortunately he had just killed one of their number, and that was going to count against him.

‘On my honour, I will not seek to escape,’ he started, but Eoin pushed him back and back until he hit the wall.

‘Damn right you’re not going to escape. Mici, go and round the horses up before the locals decide to stew them. Colm, find something to tie this butcher up with. In fact, Mici,’ he shouted, ‘get two men from the village and tell them to dig a grave. We’ll need to send Daibhi off to his maker here. Manus, see if you can find the priest.’

As his men scattered, Eoin picked up the brass disc thrower.

‘Careful,’ said Solomon.

‘It’s you who should have been more careful with this thing.’ He gathered up the discs and turned them over in his hand. ‘Did you make this?’

‘Not myself. My people did.’

‘These Kenyans of yours. Where do they live?’

‘Far over the water, where the sun is straight up at midday, and there is no summer or winter.’

‘So we’ve established you come from la-la land and that no one’s coming to rescue you. Kilian, watch my back. I’m going through his stuff.’

Solomon had to watch as Eoin ran his rough and ignorant fingers over his quill and ink, his notebook, then suddenly noticed the light-cloth hanging from the wall.

‘Mary, Mother of God. What’s that?’ He pawed at it, and kicked the electropile. One of the wires lost contact with the cloth, and the light faded away.

‘Please do not break that,’ said Solomon, and involuntarily stepped forward. Kilian raised the spear, forcing him back. ‘It is of some value. Your king will not thank you if you damage it.’

Eoin looked sour, but desisted. He turned his attention to the trunk. ‘Anything in here that’s going to kill me?’

‘No, I assure you.’

He kicked the box. ‘Funnily enough, I don’t trust you.’ He moved some of the objects around with his spear haft, then put it to one side. ‘What’s this?’

He pulled the pelt-covered book out and dumped it on the floor. He rubbed his hand through the fur and slowly pulled it free. The book inside slid out onto the stone. He repeated: ‘What is this?’

‘It is a very valuable book, full of the most amazing secrets.’

‘No, you idiot. This.’ He waved the pelt at Solomon. ‘This is good. Which animal did it come from?’

‘I do not know. It came with the book.’

Eoin manhandled the book onto the table and heaved open the cover. ‘It’s like it’s made of iron. Who’d do a thing like that?’

‘The ancients would,’ said Solomon, ‘for their most precious knowledge.’

‘A Users’ book? Cursed thing.’ Eoin turned the first page and stared at the spider-like writing. ‘Can you read any of this?’

‘Some. The more I study it, the more I learn.’

Eoin touched the next page and brought his finger quickly to his mouth. ‘It cut me.’

‘You must be careful,’ urged Solomon.

‘So you keep on saying. First your boy bites me, then you kill Daibhi, then your book has a go. It’s not safe to be around you, black man.’ He sucked his injured digit. ‘This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to truss you up tighter than a chicken, then we’re going to load all this nonsense on the horse we now happen to have spare, and then we’ll let the king decide what to do with you.’

‘I am grateful.’

‘The Devil take your gratitude.’ Eoin threw the book back into the trunk, causing Solomon to wince. ‘If it were up to me, you’d be swinging from a set of gallows. But old Ardhal might have other plans for you, and I’m not going to gainsay my kinsman.’

‘I understand,’ said Solomon.

‘And stay clear of Mici for a while. He and Daibhi drank together, got drunk together and, for all I know, woke up sober together. Don’t go angering him.’

Soon enough there was one of the crowds that Solomon hated, gathered at the churchyard gates.

When the king’s men led him out, wrists tied behind his back, a great murmur rose from the townsfolk.

‘Where are you taking him? What’s he done?’ asked Rose loudly.

Eoin walked him up the path to the gates, a strong hand on Solomon’s arm. ‘Besides the fact he killed one of my men? He turned against the rightful king by promising to help another. There’s a reckoning to be had for that.’

‘Oh, Solomon, you didn’t, did you? See now, I explained all this to you, and you wouldn’t listen. Don’t meddle in the affairs of kings, I said, and now look what you’ve done.’

‘Hush, woman, and stand aside,’ said Eoin. ‘Manus, any luck on the priest?’

‘He’s not been seen hereabouts for over a month.’

‘So where is he? Woman?’

Rose crossed her arms. ‘It’s hush one moment, it’s woman the next. Which is it to be?’

‘Just answer the question, good lady.’

‘Father Padroig went last saint’s day on a pilgrimage, to the Holy Shrine of Our Lady of Kilkenny.’

‘And he’s not got back yet? Shouldn’t you be worried about him? Have none of you looked for him?’ Eoin looked from face to face, and one by one, each turned away. ‘Or has this stranger dazzled you so much, even moving into the church and turning it into his own house, that you haven’t missed him?’

For once Rose naMoira was silent.

‘So who’s in charge here? Apart from the priest?’

Again, as before, a reluctant Rory macShiel was pressed forward until he was at the front.

‘Are you macShiel? The boy Brendan said you and Akisi had a falling out.’

‘He nearly got me killed at An Cobh. I didn’t take kindly to that.’

‘Is the boy all right?’ asked Eoin.

‘He could fall on his head from now until midwinter and not suffer. Thank you for treating him right.’

‘He’s only a boy,’ said Eoin, ‘though he should choose his master better in future. You need to send someone to Kilkenny, make sure that the father’s still there. Can I trust you to do that?’

‘I’ll go myself,’ said Rory.

‘Good man. We still need to bury Daibhi in holy ground, so if you can find someone to lend a hand and say a few words . . .’

As he watched shovels appear and the green turf turned back, Solomon felt a mix of emotions. Foolish, for having done such a foolish thing: how was he to know that the siege of An Cobh would fail so quickly? He was used to stories where sieges lasted for months, years even. Foolish too not to choose the winner and to send a half-wit boy to do a man’s job.

There was hope, however. He was aware of his worth, very aware that King Ardhal of Coirc could not collect the blood debt if his neck was stretched. He was worth so much more alive than dead. Worth enough, surely, to buy his freedom, a position in the king’s household, even the king’s ear.

He had been wasting his time in An Rinn. It had been a useful place to stop, to gather his thoughts, to learn the dialect and customs of the land. But it was time to move on. It was, as everyone kept on telling him, and proudly so, an insignificant town best left to its fish and its wool.

While the king’s men laid the body of their fellow in the ground, Solomon stood with the horses, wondered if he could ever find one large enough to ride, and was glad that he would be out of the place before they learned what had really happened to their priest on the road back from Kilkenny abbey.