‘It is indeed myself, Eadulf,’ he replied with a chuckle. The words were exchanged in their own language but Fidelma knew enough of it to understand. ‘I believed you to be dead, these many years,’ Eadulf said with emotion. ‘Far be it for me to shatter your beliefs, dear brother,’ replied the other, still smiling. ‘Yet, in this matter, I am glad that I can do so.’ ‘Egric, it is truly you?’ Eadulf was still shaking his head in disbelief. ‘And ten years older, brother.’ Eadulf suddenly moved, crossing the distance between them, and flung his arms around the young man. A torrent of his native language poured from him that Fidelma had no hope of following, so rapid and inflected was it. The newcomer laughingly disengaged himself, replying in the same language. Then he looked towards Fidelma and seemed to ask a question. Eadulf turned with an apology. ‘This is my younger brother, Egric.’ The introduction was almost unnecessary. With the two of them, side by side, the likeness was obvious.
