Smoke in the Wind

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Smoke in the Wind Page 29

by Peter Tremayne


  Fidelma nodded approvingly as she followed his narrative. ‘You seem to be a sound strategist, Cathen.’

  ‘Even a good strategist needs luck, Sister.’

  Fidelma gave him an appreciative look. Cathen was certainly no vain leader.

  Gwnda cleared his throat. ‘So now, Prince Cathen,’ he said, ‘thanks to you peace returns to Pen Caer. You have rounded up and captured our local band of robbers. And Sister Fidelma will tell you that our other mysteries are resolved. Si finis bonus est, totum bonum erit.’

  Fidelma shook her head quickly. ‘If this is an end to the mystery, it is not good nor is everything good that comes from it.’

  Prince Cathen looked uncertain. ‘I would agree that there are several questions to be answered before we can resolve all these matters. Do you have the answers to those questions, Sister?’

  ‘First tell me, Cathen, when Dewi came to your father Gwlyddien, did he make a specific request on my behalf?’

  Cathen nodded. ‘That you be given the authority of barnwr to investigate all those matters you felt important.’

  ‘Do I receive that authority?’

  ‘My father was most willing to give you that authority. As I said before, we merely thought you might need a little physical backing.’

  Gwnda was looking on in disapproval.

  At that moment, a tap came at the door and one of Cathen’s warriors entered. ‘It was easily done, Prince Cathen. We have the man called Iestyn. He was at his farm with a couple of outlaws. We surprised them before they could even draw their swords, so no one has been hurt.’

  Cathen grinned at Fidelma. ‘Excellent. So do we have all the rats in our trap now, lady?’

  Fidelma did not reply for a moment but turned to the young warrior. ‘Was one of the outlaws a man with a metal skull cap? A war helmet? A man of some arrogance?’

  ‘That must be the one who answers to the name of Corryn. He was arrogant,’ agreed the warrior.

  ‘Corryn was the man I wanted.’ Fidelma sighed in satisfaction.

  ‘There was another outlaw, apart from the man Iestyn. His name was Sualda.’

  ‘Sualda?’ Eadulf’s eyebrows rose a fraction. ‘So he survived?’

  ‘Luck is definitely on our side,’ Fidelma told him.

  Cathen glanced questioningly at her. ‘Are these men special?’ he asked. ‘I thought that Clydog was their leader?’

  ‘Very special,’ she confirmed. ‘Keep them all separate but closely confined. They are all important in this game of intrigue.’

  Cathen gestured for his warrior to obey Fidelma and turned back to her. ‘I am not sure I understand any of this,’ he began.

  ‘I shall explain tomorrow. In the morning, with Gwnda’s consent of course, let us gather in this hall. I will then endeavour to bring all the ends of these matters together.’

  Gwnda was frowning in annoyance. ‘I thought the matter was concluded? We have rounded up all the outlaws. What else is there?’

  Fidelma gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘There are many deaths to be accounted for, Gwnda, and also an explanation of the conspiracy against King Gwlyddien.’ She turned to Cathen. ‘Do I have the right and your approval to present the explanations?’

  ‘Of course,’ the prince replied.

  ‘Then I shall need one of your men to act as steward for the court that I propose should sit in Gwnda’s hall at noon.’

  ‘Cadell is my trusted lieutenant, Sister.’

  ‘Very well. Let me speak with Cadell and issue him with instructions on what should be done tomorrow, for I need this business conducted in a precise and special way.’

  Cathen and Gwnda were clearly at a loss to understand what was in her mind. However, Cathen turned to the door and called for one of his men, asking that Cadell be found and sent to him. A moment or so later a young warrior entered. Cathen spoke quietly to him and the man crossed the hall to Fidelma, raising his hand in salute.

  ‘I am at your service, Sister,’ he said. He seemed brisk and efficient.

  ‘Remain while Brother Eadulf and I give you instructions. ’ She turned to the others. ‘The night is almost gone and it has been a long and tiring one. I suggest that you all retire. Brother Eadulf and I will not be long in following your example.’

  They hesitated and then, seeing the glint in her eye, began to disperse.

  The morning was intensely bright. There were no clouds in the sky and the sun shone with that late autumnal brightness which causes people to narrow their eyes in order to focus through its glare. In spite of the sun’s rays, the air was chill and there was a hint that a frost had come and gone in the predawn hours. Droplets of water glimmered and sparkled on bushes and trees and even the grasses.

  Fidelma had slept late. In fact, it was approaching the noon day. Even so, she was stirring long before Eadulf and went down to the kitchen to find Buddog washing dishes there. The woman greeted her dourly.

  ‘There is much movement in the township this morning, Sister. Many are crowding into Gwnda’s hall to hear what you have to tell them.’

  Fidelma seated herself at a table and began to pick at a bowl of apples.

  ‘Let us hope they will not be disappointed,’ she said tightly. Buddog frowned and left her alone.

  A moment later Eadulf entered. Fidelma noticed that he still looked exhausted. She probably looked haggard herself, for they had not gone to bed until dawn. They had spent some time questioning Sualda, who had recovered from his infectious wound thanks to Eadulf’s treatment, and Fidelma’s speculation had been confirmed.

  ‘I see people are gathering in the main hall,’ Eadulf said in greeting, helping himself to an apple. He had barely bitten into it when Prince Cathen entered with Cadell at his side.

  ‘It is a fine day,’ he announced. ‘The sun is near its zenith. Cadell has been scrupulous in obeying your instructions. Those whom you asked him to request to attend are already in their places. Clydog and his band of outlaws are still imprisoned, with the exception of Iestyn who has been brought to the hall under guard.’

  ‘Have the smith Goff and his wife Rhonwen arrived?’ asked Fidelma.

  ‘They have come with their son, Dewi,’ agreed Cadell.

  ‘And the girl Elen?’

  ‘She was most reluctant to return. It was lucky that she had broken her journey at Goff’s forge and we did not have to send all the way down to Llanrhian to fetch her. I do not think she is happy to be back.’

  ‘Everything stands in readiness, Sister,’ Cathen summed up. ‘Just as you ordered it should be.’

  ‘And is Gwnda in attendance?’

  ‘He is, and very unhappy about it,’ replied Cathen. ‘As lord of Pen Caer he would normally seat himself as judge, but I will take precedence in this court in accordance with your request.’

  ‘It will be up to you, Prince Cathen, to ensure that this hearing is properly conducted. I have no judicial authority and it will be your decision what legal path must be taken after I have presented the facts.’

  ‘It will be as you say.’

  ‘Then go before us and we will follow in a moment.’ He and Cadell left and went into the hall. Fidelma could hear the hum of voices grow silent with expectancy.

  Buddog was still busying herself in the kitchen.

  ‘Buddog? Are you not joining us?’

  The tall, blonde servant shook her head. ‘I am only a servant, lady. I am not allowed to enter Gwnda’s hall during official business other than to attend to the wants of the guests.’

  ‘But you have the right to attend and listen to what has taken place. Eadulf will take you in and secure you a seat.’

  Eadulf rose and motioned for Buddog to go with him. She did so, but only with reluctance and some protest. For a few moments Fidelma sat at the table drumming her fingers on its wooden top and frowning into space. Then she gave a deep sigh, stood up and entered Gwnda’s hall.

  The hall was crowded. Prince Cathen had taken the chair of office with Gwnda, as lord of Pen Ca
er, seated to one side. Gwnda was clearly annoyed at being removed from the place that he had expected to fill and watched her coming with intense dislike. One of the men whom Cathen had brought with him was apparently a scribe, for he now sat to one side ready to record the proceedings. Cathen’s men were posted strategically around the hall and Cadell stood ready to perform the task of marshal of the court.

  Fidelma paused at the door. A silence descended over the people as they turned to looked at her. Fidelma saw a scowling Elen seated near her father. There was Goff the smith, his plump wife, Rhonwen, and their son Dewi, on whom she bestowed a smile. Without the boy’s journey to the abbey of Dewi Sant, this could have been a more fatal affair. Buddog was sitting awkwardly where Eadulf had found a place for her. Not far from her, but with a warrior on either side, sat Iestyn the farmer.

  Cadell had carried out his instructions to the letter. Clydog and Corryn and their followers were not in the hall, but were being kept in Gwnda’s barn as prisoners until she called for them.

  Cathen glanced towards his scribe and the man knocked on the table with the pommel of his dagger. It was a superfluous action for already the hall was quiet.

  ‘We are ready to hear you, Sister,’ Cathen called.

  Fidelma strode forward to the centre of the room, where Eadulf was already standing before Cathen. ‘Prince Cathen, let this court acknowledge that I and Brother Eadulf come here to speak with the approval and authority of Gwlyddien, your father, king of Dyfed.’

  ‘This is fully and readily acknowledged. Sister Fidelma of Cashel and Brother Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham, being lawyers of their own peoples, came to Pen Caer under commission of my father, the king. To facilitate matters he has approved of their being designated honorary barnwrs of this kingdom. We sit in anticipation of hearing the results of their investigations.’

  Fidelma solemnly looked around, as if gathering her thoughts, and then turned back to address herself to Cathen. ‘We came to this place in the company of Brother Meurig. There were two matters calling for investigation. One was that for which King Gwlyddien had originally commissioned our help - the mystery of the disappearance of the brethren of Llanpadern. The second was that which Brother Meurig, as a learned judge, had specifically been sent to investigate - the murder of Mair, daughter of the smith Iorwerth of this township.’

  There was a silence as she paused.

  ‘Initially, it was thought that these two events were two separate, unrelated issues, isolated from one another. Then I wondered if there might be some connection, for both incidents shared some common protagonists.’

  There was still no sound as she paused again.

  ‘Prince Cathen, with your permission, I shall approach the explanation of these events by dealing first with the murder of Mair and its outcome--’

  ‘I object!’ Gwnda was leaning forward in his seat. ‘This matter is not in the competence of this foreigner, no matter what reputation she has in her own land.’

  Cathen silenced him with a gesture. ‘I have already ruled on her competence,’ he said sharply. ‘My father has confirmed her qualification to investigate and bring evidence forward in the death of Brother Meurig, and as the barnwr was investigating Mair’s death it seems to me that it is within her competence to put forward her arguments in this matter.’

  ‘Brother Meurig was killed by Idwal. Idwal had killed Mair. The matter should be closed,’ protested Gwnda.

  ‘Do you deny that you had second thoughts about Idwal’s guilt?’ Fidelma asked. ‘Your daughter, Elen, thought that Mair had been killed in mistake for her because she had overheard a conversation in the woods which endangered her life. Is that not so? You even agreed that Elen should tell me so.’

  Gwnda scowled. ‘I did not share her belief.’

  Cathen leaned forward and searched out the frightened features of Elen. ‘Is this true, Elen? Did you make this claim and did your father agree that you were to tell Sister Fidelma and Brother Eadulf?’

  ‘It is true,’ Elen agreed unhappily.

  Cathen turned back to Fidelma. ‘Then Gwnda’s objection is overruled. Continue.’

  Fidelma paused a moment as if putting her thoughts in order before continuing.

  ‘The seeds of this tragedy - and here I speak of the death of Mair - go back many years. It is best if I tell the story as best I can and, should I place a wrong interpretation on events, then the witnesses gathered here can challenge and correct what I have to say. You will discover that the hand that struck down young Mair was not the same hand that struck down Brother Meurig.’

  This caused a stir in the hall, quickly dispelled by a rapping on the table by the scribe.

  ‘As I say, the seeds of this tragedy were sown many yeas ago, in a place not so far from here called Dinas,’ began Fidelma. Goff stirred uncomfortably. ‘Two young apprentice smiths were working at the forge of Gurgust there. One of those smiths was Goff and the other was Iorwerth, Mair’s father. Gurgust, their smith-master, had a daughter named Efa.’

  Elen had bent forward in her seat, a curious expression on her face.

  ‘Iorwerth made Efa pregnant. In a fury, Gurgust drove his apprentice Iorwerth out. His fury did not abate and he also cast his own daughter from his home. Desperate for security, Efa took up with a wandering warrior, who was thought by most to be the father of her child. I can only speculate on what happened, although I hope the person concerned will have the courage to confirm what I may say in speculation. This warrior took up with Efa but, shortly after the birth of the child, he quarrelled with her. Perhaps he simply did not want to become father to another man’s child.

  ‘The warrior disappeared and Efa was found strangled. Moreover, her baby had also disappeared. Now Gurgust, in happier days, had made a red gold necklet, with a bejewelled pendant bearing the image of a hare, for his daughter. There was no sign of it and it was thought that whoever killed Efa had stolen it.

  ‘Some time afterwards a shepherd named Iolo started herding sheep at Garn Fechan. He was raising a boy named Idwal, who was not his son. Here in Llanwnda, Iorwerth the smith married a local girl called Esyllt and had a daughter whom they named Mair. Iorwerth did not treat his wife, Esyllt, well. She subsequently died. In his guilt he became devoted to his daughter. Idwal, foster son of Iolo, was a simple, kindly youth, and he and Mair appeared strangely drawn to one another.’

  ‘Where is Iorwerth?’ interrupted Gwnda, in a hectoring tone. ‘He should be here to refute this outlandish tale.’

  Fidelma turned towards Goff. ‘In the absence of Iorwerth, can you and your wife, Rhonwen, tell this court whether the tale I have told is outlandish so far?’

  Goff stared at the ground before him. It was his wife who answered.

  ‘Your account is correct. You have imagined nothing so far. My husband was the second apprentice at Dinas and, as all should know, Iorwerth’s wife, Esyllt, was my close friend.’

  ‘What was not known,’ went on Fidelma, ‘was that the attraction between Idwal and Mair was not a sexual one but something which went even deeper. Idwal and Mair were born of the same father but did not know it.’

  ‘Prove it!’ snapped Gwnda above the hubbub caused by her statement.

  ‘Just before the old shepherd Iolo died, he gave Idwal something which had been the property of his mother. It was a necklet of red gold with a figure of a hare on it.’

  ‘Idwal is dead,’ cried Gwnda. ‘You cannot prove any part of this story.’

  Fidelma smiled. She turned to Elen.

  ‘It is true,’ the girl whispered.

  ‘Speak up, child,’ Cathen said. ‘If you have something to say, let the court hear.’

  Elen raised her head. Tears were glistening in her eyes. ‘It is true,’ she said more determinedly. ‘Iolo told Idwal where the necklet had come from. When Idwal was accused of murder, he realised that his precious possession might be taken from him. He wanted to keep it safe and so he gave it to me.’

  ‘Then where is it?’ demanded Cat
hen.

  Fidelma moved forward, holding it up. ‘Elen passed it to me when she told me how it came into her possession. It is so distinctive that I am sure Goff will recognise it as the one made by his smith-master Gurgust. It was the one worn by Efa all those years ago. Goff and Rhonwen had already described it when they had thought it lost.’

  Goff had risen, staring at the necklet. ‘It is the same one,’ he acknowledged in a quiet voice. ‘I would recognise it anywhere.’

  There was a yell and a scuffle. Eyes turned to where Iestyn had been sitting. He had been silent all through the hearing, his face immobile. Now he had tried to struggle to his feet, his eyes wide, his face a mask of hate.

  ‘Are you claiming that Iorwerth was Idwal’s father?’ he shouted. His guard pushed him back into his seat.

  ‘Iorwerth should be here,’ muttered Gwnda. ‘He should hear this accusation. If what you say is true, he would also recognise this necklet.’

  ‘He did,’ affirmed Fidelma, without responding to Iestyn. ‘In Brother Eadulf’s company, I showed the necklet to him.’

  ‘Then where is he?’ demanded Gwnda.

  ‘Recognising it, realising that Idwal was actually his son by Efa, he became demented. You see, he had actually helped hang his own son for what he thought was the rape and murder of his daughter.’

  ‘Then where is he now, Sister?’ demanded Cathen. ‘He should have been present in this court.’

  Cadell, responding to Fidelma’s gesture, cleared his throat and took a step forward. ‘My prince, his body is now at his forge. On Sister Fidelma’s instructions, I went to a place described by her at first light and found his body beneath a tree where he had hanged himself. His body had been found by Sister Fidelma and Brother Eadulf last night and cut down moments before Clydog captured them.’

  There was a gasp of horror from the crowd.

  ‘Iorwerth could not live with the fact that he had killed his own son,’ went on Fidelma. ‘Nor that his son, so he thought, had lusted after and killed his own sister.’

 

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