The Shapeshifter's Lair

by Peter Tremayne

  ‘It is only a shallow working, not really a cave at all.’

  Fidelma could see that it was not a natural cave; it was more as if someone, or a group of men, with pickaxes and spades, had attacked the side of the hill and dug deep into it, creating a large manmade cave. Closer inspection showed that from this cave large amounts of ore had been dug and presumably washed and taken away by handcarts to a place where they could be loaded on to a mule cart and taken away down a wider track to the meeting of the river at Láithreach. She presumed the ore would then be placed on river boats sailing down to the sea coast for shipment by the Gaulish sea-going vessels.

  She surveyed the cave-like digging, shaking her head in bewilderment. The amount of gold and silver ore from this digging could barely have been worth all the effort. She was surprised to see that Enda had scrambled up above the man-made cave and had disappeared. It was an optical illusion, apparently, as the indentation could not be seen from the angle at which they were looking up.

  He suddenly appeared looking down at them.

  ‘A vein!’ he shouted down. ‘They were following a vein!’

  Eadulf looked bewildered. However, Fidelma had understood.

  ‘Are there more workings up there?’

  ‘A low line of diggings cutting across the hillside just behind this ridge, which have been disguised with bushes and shrubs. That’s why it could not be seen from across the valley. They must have struck a vein from somewhere along the hillside to the east and have been digging along it.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ demanded Eadulf. He wished he had listened more closely to Garrchú’s discourse the previous evening.

  Fidelma turned with a smile. ‘Gold and silver are often found in what they call veins. If you find one you can usually follow it for long stretches, especially between quartz and granite. That’s what the steward of the mines told us.’

  She glanced up but Teimel had disappeared now, obviously trying to estimate the extent of the workings.

  ‘So we might have found a solution to Dicuil Dóna’s mystery. If he says that he didn’t know of this digging then it must be that this is the illegal mine workings and the source of the ore. If that is the case then we have fulfilled our promise to resolve the mystery that Brehon Rónchú gave Dicuil Dóna.’ She suddenly went quiet.

  ‘A problem?’ Eadulf asked.

  ‘Brehon Rónchú. He is noticeable by his absence.’

  ‘But he is supposed to be on his legal circuit,’ Eadulf pointed out.

  She glanced across the valley to the abandoned farmhouse with its lonely grave. Eadulf caught her meaning but shook his head.

  ‘Teimel would have recognised the body. It would be foolish not to do so when we could so easily show him to be a liar.’

  ‘Perhaps. Yet we cannot prove him to be so immediately, can we?’ she said softly. ‘I’ll keep an open mind. Anyway, we have learnt nothing more than we knew previously.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘We knew from this story about the gold being seized that it was illegally mined and, by law, it belonged to the lord of The Cuala. We can be safe in the assumption that we have now learnt where the illegal ore was being mined. We have not resolved if or how Gelgéis and her companions were involved.’

  ‘They could have come across the mine working, and those working here took them prisoners to stop them talking.’

  ‘How would they have deviated so far from their road from Osraige to the Abbey of Cáemgen? Don’t forget it was on that road that Brehon Brocc was found. It is more logical that they were all taken prisoner when Brocc was killed and brought here where the body was sheltered for a week before being taken back and left where he had been killed a week before. But why? Why was the body taken back to the original track for Cétach to find?’

  ‘I am confused.’

  Fidelma was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Consider it a little more. They were not taken prisoner to hide the fact of the killing of the Brehon. They were taken prisoner in order to stop whoever did it being identified.’

  Eadulf frowned. ‘That means they knew the killer or killers.’

  ‘Or might be able to identify them later,’ confirmed Fidelma.

  ‘Assuming she and her steward were brought here as prisoners, as you suggest, why? Why not have them killed immediately?’

  ‘I think the killers must have realised that she was an important person.’ Another idea was forming in Fidelma’s mind but not quite as sharply.

  ‘You mean they realised her worth as a princess of Osraige?’ Eadulf sounded doubtful. ‘You mean that she and her party were ambushed because of who she was? Or they discovered who she was after the ambush? And what is the connection with this illegal mine working?’

  Fidelma sighed. ‘You are asking the questions before we have the facts,’ she admitted. ‘Somewhere everything must fit in.’ She glanced about the site of the workings as if she expected an answer to the puzzle to suddenly appear.

  Enda and Teimel rejoined them.

  ‘We can find nothing further of significance,’ Enda said. ‘What now?’

  ‘Aren’t we going back to Dicuil Dóna?’ Teimel asked. ‘Are we going to report to him about this place?’

  ‘Not until I have more information about the relationship between Corbmac and Aróc,’ Fidelma responded quickly. ‘Did Dicuil Dóna know about them? Is he using us as the catspaw, sending us after them, perhaps to find out about them? Are they stealing from him or is he sending us on some wild-goose chase for his own reasons? Do not forget, my primary concern is to find out what has happened to Princess Gelgéis.’

  ‘What do you intend to do?’ Eadulf asked.

  ‘We shall go back to the abbey first. I want to reflect more on this matter. For some reason, I feel there is more information at the abbey or in the township of Láithreach. Do you know the route back to the Glen of the Two Lakes?’ she asked Teimel.

  ‘I can do that journey as if I were blindfolded,’ the hunter declared. ‘It is a hilly route from here to around that flat-topped mountain ahead to the east.’ He pointed in the direction. ‘We come to a place where there are three lakes before we follow a single track leading downwards alongside the stream that rises there. That takes us around a tall mountain, Ceann an Bhealaigh – the Head of the Way. From there we join up with the glen called the Glen of the Yews, through which the river flows directly into the Glen of the Two Oaks. It is not difficult to navigate; just tiring to travel.’

  ‘Does that lead us near to the place where Cétach found the body of the Brehon?’ Fidelma asked. ‘When we were taken prisoner by Corbmac, I seem to remember we crossed by that peak called Ceann an Bhealaigh – that was near to where we had to spend the night.’

  ‘You have a good memory, lady,’ admitted the hunter. ‘If the point where Corbmac ambushed us was where the body of the Brehon was found, then it was north of where we shall pass.’

  ‘It would have been along that way that they would have been brought here?’ The question was rhetorical for she was speaking to herself. She sighed. ‘The only positive matter I think we are sure about is that there is some connection with this mine.’

  ‘What do we do about the corpse, lady?’ asked Enda.

  ‘How do you mean, what to do about it?’ Fidelma was confused by the question.

  ‘We should make a record of it for identification.’

  ‘A record, yes; but we don’t know who it is,’ pointed out Eadulf. ‘At least we know it is not Spealáin.’ He glanced at the hunter. ‘It was mentioned that he showed signs of having worn a ring. That meant he was a noble or an official. We agreed on that. But if he were a local noble, then you would have known him, wouldn’t you, Teimel?’

  The hunter gave a shrug but succeeded only in looking uncomfortable. ‘I didn’t recognise him but then, as you recall, his head had been smashed in, presumably by a shovel during burial, if not before.’

  ‘Before?’ Fidelma frowned.

  ‘When he was a
ttacked – murdered, as you say.’

  ‘You are right,’ Eadulf agreed. ‘It is almost impossible to see how the head of the corpse could have been so damaged accidentally while being buried. I would say that this was the result of an attack with the shovel as a weapon rather than damage after death.’

  Fidelma was thoughtful. ‘He was not local, based on the fact that Teimel does not recognise him. We know that the killer was so filled with hate and bloodlust that they struck out in a bloody fury. Look at the way that the corpse was mutilated.’

  ‘Well, it should not be hard to find out his identity. Surely a man of noble status would travel in company. Where are his companions?’

  Fidelma glanced at him almost sadly. ‘So where is the companion of Princess Gelgéis?’ she asked dryly.

  Teimel was apparently watching the shadows of clouds moving across the mountains.

  ‘If we are going to make a move towards the abbey, I must suggest that we start soon, lady,’ he warned.

  Fidelma uttered a sigh and nodded. ‘Any idea how long it will take us?’

  ‘If we are not slow in the journey then we could be there just at dusk and the lights of the gate at the abbey will be a guide. As for myself, I can reach my cabin on the outskirts of Láithreach in darkness just as easily as in daylight.’

  Fidelma was about to say that travelling at night time was not a problem to her even if they were not escorted by Enda, as most children were taught how to spot the Seven Sisters and thence the North Star to guide them at night. As for Enda, it was part of his training as a warrior to be versed in finding his way in all types of weather. But she made no reply.

  ‘Let us get started,’ Teimel urged.

  As they mounted, Enda cast a searching look around the isolated valley to ensure against any surprises. A mine had been worked here, veins of gold and silver ore had been extracted and someone had been killed. It was enough to tell part of the story. It was still speculation as to who the dead person was. It was certainly beyond Enda’s capability to guess. He knew only that lack of diligence had caused them to be ambushed twice. And he also knew that he did not trust Teimel.

  Soon they were leaving the valley behind them and moved out across the hills with Teimel apparently avoiding the almost primordial tree-filled gullies. He kept to a narrow path further up the hillside. This caused Eadulf considerable nervousness as he had to lean at an angle to maintain his balance on his horse. He just hoped that this new horse was as sure footed as his old cob and would not send him tumbling down the mountain. The trouble was, Teimel made no allowances and led them along at a brisk pace. Even Fidelma had cause to call out to him and advise that he slow the pace. She had also given Eadulf some advice when he’d first began to ride seriously. She’d pointed out that horses were intelligent creatures and, given free rein, would follow a safe path without having to be guided. So, remembering this now, he sat back and allowed the animal its head.

  It was during that curious short period before the onset of dusk that Teimel led them by the point where the River of Yews entered into the large Upper Lake of the valley of Two Lakes. Dusk was descending rapidly by the time they reached the end of the lake and followed the river to the Lower Lake and the lights from the abbey came in sight. It was here that Teimel reminded her that he would leave her and her companions at the abbey and ride on to his cabin on the outskirts of Láithreach.

  They had not started to part company when Enda called a soft cautionary warning.

  ‘Stay back a little and you will be interested to observe who is coming out of the main gate.’

  The area of the gate to the abbey was lit by two strong oil lanterns hung on tall poles, which flooded the immediate area around the gate and the bridge over the stream. They had just been about to approach from scant cover behind the trees into the area of light when Enda halted them.

  Two people were emerging out of the main gate. One was the dorseóracht, the gatekeeper, Brother Dorchú. The other figure was that of the person they least expected to see at the abbey. It was Corbmac, commander of the lord of The Cuala’s bodyguard.

  EIGHTEEN

  As they watched, even though they could not hear the words, they could see the manner of the exchange between the two men seemed affable, as if they were old friends. They spoke for a short while and the onlookers heard laughter between them at some shared joke. Then with a friendly handshake they turned in separate directions. Brother Dorchú went back to the abbey and Corbmac mounted his horse and disappeared into the encompassing evening darkness.

  It was Teimel who eventually made the first move after Corbmac had left. He raised his hand to Fidelma and quietly said: ‘If you need me, I shall be found at my cabin.’ He urged his horse forward into the darkness at a trot in the same direction that Corbmac had taken. It was the only track to the township.

  ‘Lady,’ whispered Enda, after he had disappeared, ‘I am afraid I do not trust that man.’

  ‘Corbmac?’ Fidelma asked with a frown, her mind elsewhere.

  ‘No, lady. I mean Teimel. Many things puzzle me about his behaviour.’

  ‘Do not be apologetic, Enda,’ Fidelma replied in even tone. ‘We should all be cautious by the very nature of where we are and what we are engaged in.’

  ‘Teimel seemed to be trying to mislead us … pointing out how friendly Corbmac is with Brother Dorchú.’

  ‘Perhaps Teimel’s answers could be ascribed to lack of guile. Also Brother Dorchú served the lord of The Cuala as a warrior before he became a religieux and came to this abbey. Why should he not be friendly with Corbmac, his one-time commander? We will bear all these questions in mind. But we will speak later. Now, the day grows late and it is the time for the evening baths. Also I, for one, am hungry.’

  They entered through the gate and across the small river over the wooden bridge to the second gate of the abbey. Brother Dorchú, having heard their approach on the wooden planking, had come forward. They could see little of his features in the flickering lamplight.

  ‘Pax vobiscum,’ he greeted them.

  ‘And peace to you, Brother Dorchú,’ she and the others replied gravely as they rode towards the stables. As they dismounted Fidelma turned to Enda.

  ‘We may have a busy day tomorrow so make sure the stable master has the horses well rested and fed. Now Eadulf and I will make sure our baths are being attended to.’

  Enda raised a hand in acknowledgment. As he led the horses away several stable lads emerged from the gloom to take charge. As Fidelma and Eadulf moved towards the guest quarters, Brother Aithrigid appeared.

  ‘We did not expect you back so soon,’ he greeted. ‘Did you have a fruitful trip, lady?’

  ‘Fruitful enough,’ she replied indifferently. ‘Where might we find Abbot Daircell?’

  ‘He is in the scriptorium, lady. Shall I take you there?’

  ‘We know the way now,’ she assured him.

  ‘It will not be long before the time for the evening bell summons the brethren to the refectory,’ he reminded them.

  ‘Have no fear, Brother Aithrigid,’ she replied solemnly. ‘We do not intend to disrupt the routine of the abbey.’

  Abbot Daircell seemed surprised to see them as they entered the scriptorium.

  ‘I did not expect you to return so soon from your sojourn in the mountains,’ he greeted them, rising, making a gesture for them to be seated before resuming his own chair. ‘Was the trip made with profit?’

  ‘There is no journey that is without profit,’ Fidelma smiled, ‘or, at least, for those willing to learn.’

  ‘And you have learned something? I mean, in the search for my cousin, Princess Gelgéis?’

  Fidelma appeared to be gathering her thoughts. ‘I wanted to confirm with you that when she sent word of her coming here, when she sent her message by carrier pigeon, she did not say anything specific about the cause of her concerns?’

  ‘Nothing at all except that she was worried about some conspiracy in Osraige.’


  ‘A conspiracy – by whom and for what?’

  ‘Just that she had heard of a conspiracy.’

  ‘She made no reference to thefts from the mines of The Cuala?’

  The abbot looked astonished. ‘Why would she mention mines?’

  ‘So she only gave you to understand that she needed to speak to you about the safety of Osraige, related to some conspiracy?’

  ‘My impression was that she had no trust in Tuaim Snámha of Osraige?’ the abbot replied. ‘Of course, it is well known that Osraige paid tribute only reluctantly to Cashel after the defeat of Cronán of Liath Mór and that a conspiracy was suspected between Fianamail and Tuaim Snámha. So I suspect that it might have been something to do with that.’

  ‘But you know no more?’

  ‘I know no more,’ the abbot confirmed.

  Fidelma suddenly rose and apologised to the abbot. ‘I am afraid we must attend the fothrucud, the bathing, before the evening meal.’

  The abbot waved his hands distractedly, half in acknowledgement and half in dismissal.

  ‘I presume that you have already met Aróc, the daughter of the lord of The Cuala?’ he said unexpectedly as they were almost exiting the door. ‘I heard that you were guests at his fortress.’

  Fidelma turned back with a frown. ‘We were. I have encountered her. How do you know we met?’

  ‘She is a guest here in the abbey tonight,’ explained the abbot. ‘I thought that you should know. Alas, Aróc is a wilful child; perhaps even more wilful than her father.’

  When Eadulf followed Fidelma from the abbot’s chambers to the guest rooms he was shaking his head.

  ‘It is difficult to fish for information when you don’t know the right bait,’ he offered.

  ‘None the less,’ she smiled almost mischievously, ‘I believe that I have found the right stream to fish in.’

  Eadulf stared at her for a moment before giving an exaggerated shrug. ‘I presume that you will tell me, at some stage, what stream we are fishing in?’

  At that moment they entered the bathing rooms and a serving woman came forward to announce that the bath water was heated ready for them but they must make haste for the bell for the last meal of the day would soon be sounding. It put an end to further conversation. The bell announcing the evening meal was sounding even as they were dressing, and so there was no time at all to have any discussion before they were drawn to the refectory.