The Shapeshifter's Lair

by Peter Tremayne

  Fidelma and Eadulf glanced round in curiosity but the figure of Aróc was certainly not visible among the lines of religious taking their places for the meal. The abbot appeared at the head of the principal table as everyone stood ready for the Gratias.

  ‘Benedic nos, Domine, et haec tua dona, quae de tua largitate … ’

  Led by the abbot, the prayers were chanted in monotone before the meal began. The bell sounded and everyone fell to eating. As before, there was no rule of silence during the meal but there was little opportunity for privacy to discuss the questions in Eadulf’s mind. The abbot finally led the concluding grace and then, following his departure from the hall and the leaving of many of the brethren, some of the senior members grew closer to Fidelma and Eadulf and it was plain they were filled with curiosity and made no show of hiding it.

  It was the cynical physician, Brother Lachtna, who opened the questions that many of the brethren seemed to have difficulty in suppressing. The physician leant across the table with a broad, almost derisive, grin.

  ‘So you have made a journey into the dark valleys of these mountains. And did you encounter the Aos Sí in your travels?’

  This drew a sharp intake of breath from Brother Dorchú so Fidelma decided to return humour for humour.

  ‘Ah, learned doctor, how can we answer you? We are just lawyers, human and fallible folk. If we encountered a shapeshifter we have no qualifications to identify such a creature. Indeed, if someone can shift their shape, how are we to tell what shape is genuine? You might well be a shapeshifter yourself and we would not be able to recognise if this is your real shape or the shape you have become.’

  Brother Lachtna gave a roar of laughter and slapped the table, palm downwards.

  ‘Well said, Fidelma of Cashel,’ he replied appreciatively. ‘And who can say what a person’s true shape is? The mind is the greatest shapeshifter of all.’

  Brother Dorchú uttered another contemptuous exhalation of breath. ‘I have no understanding of your humours, physician. I know what I know and there are strange things that dwell among the mountains. The Aos Sí did not perish with the coming of the New Faith. They are still there.’

  ‘Is that why you left the lord of The Cuala’s service to seek refuge here?’ the physician sneered. ‘Did you come to shelter from the attentions of the Aos Sí?’

  For a moment it seemed that Brother Dorchú was tensed ready to attack the physician. Then he turned abruptly away and stormed off.

  ‘It is not a good path to tread, belittling the beliefs of others,’ reproved Fidelma, shaking her head in disapproval at Brother Lachtna.

  The physician shrugged indifferently. ‘The man should have more sense. He was once a warrior. He was a guard at Dicuil Dóna’s mines. So he ought to know well that the only shapeshifters in the mines were those thieves that shifted the shape of the precious metals from the mines to their own pockets.’

  ‘So you found nothing of interest in your journey?’ The query came almost sharply from Brother Eochaí. ‘I see Brother Eadulf has returned with a new cob; one that bears the mark of Garrchú, the lord of The Cuala’s steward of the mines. So there must have been some incident of interest to lose a good horse and have it replaced.’

  ‘It was a gift of hospitality when my own horse was injured,’ replied Eadulf.

  Fidelma rose slowly to her feet with a weary smile. ‘It was a matter of little interest,’ she said, glancing meaningfully at Eadulf. ‘You will excuse us but it has been a long day and a tiring journey.’

  Fidelma was surprised when Eadulf did not make a move to follow her once they were outside the refectory.

  ‘I’ll join you in a moment,’ he explained, ‘but I need a walk to clear my head. I have spent too long on horseback these last few days and I need to feel there is strength still left in my feet.’

  Fidelma did not challenge him though she felt he had another reason to stay behind. She hoped that he was not going to reveal anything that she would prefer was kept secret.

  In fact, her suspicions were justified. An idea had occurred to Eadulf. After she had left the refectory, he also rose and made his excuses. Once outside he headed in the direction of the gatehouse of the abbey, guided by the flickering lanterns along the path. He had no trouble finding the person he was looking for. The burly, morose figure of Brother Dorchú was actually seated on a wooden bench just outside the main gate by the bridge that led over the stream. He seemed to be staring in contemplation at the dark, rippling waters before him. There was a lantern over the main gate but, as his head turned to watch Eadulf’s approach, it cast too many shadows for Eadulf to see the expression on his features. He guessed they would be belligerent.

  ‘Do you mind if I join you for a moment, Brother Dorchú?’

  The gatekeeper grunted in annoyance: ‘It is late and I like to sit in isolated contemplation before I prepare myself to repose for the night.’

  Eadulf was not put off but lowered himself on the wooden bench.

  ‘I, too, like to follow that habit,’ he replied cheerfully, ‘so I will not disturb you for long.’ He paused for a moment, awaiting a protest, but the gatekeeper seemed nonplussed for a reply. Eadulf let a few moments pass.

  ‘You must not take what Brother Lachtna says too seriously,’ he observed. When there was no response, Eadulf pressed further. ‘I did not embrace the New Faith until I was a young man. But, having done so, I could not abandon the old ways that were embedded in the roots of my people’s memories. While we might accept new interpretations there are still basic fundamentals that remain.’

  Brother Dorchú had turned towards him, but Eadulf still could not see his face in the semi-light.

  ‘I have no understanding of what you are saying,’ the gatekeeper replied irritably.

  ‘What I am saying is that you must not take it personally when people make comments that show that they have not fully understood the New Faith. The Blessed Paul of Tarsus admits that the evil demons rule the age we live in. Does not the Holy Scripture acknowledge that demons exist in the in-accessible and lonely places, in the dark shadows of the caverns, among the secluded and remote areas such as your high peaks of The Cuala?’ He made a gesture to the surrounding mountains.

  There was a pause before the gatekeeper said hesitantly: ‘You are better read than I am, Brother Saxon.’ Eadulf decided that on this occasion he would let the ‘Saxon’ reference go. There were times to challenge it and times not to. Anyway, the people of the Five Kingdoms used ‘Saxon’ as they did not seem to possess another name for his people, the Angles.

  ‘I assure you it is so,’ Eadulf affirmed. ‘The New Faith says there is good in the world and, knowing there is good, it must follow there is evil. Otherwise how do we know what is good? So the New Faith is replete with references to the evil demons that beset us.’

  The gatekeeper sniffed. ‘Then why is it that the Brothers make fun when I speak of the shapeshifters that dwell among the mountains?’

  ‘They probably do so out of their own fears. I find myself doing the same thing rather than admit the presence of the water spirits; the dragons and the like.’

  Brother Dorchú sighed.

  ‘Up among the high peaks is the lair of the shapeshifters, Brother. I know it. I came here seeking protection.’

  ‘You have spent much time in the high peaks?’

  ‘I was a child of goatherds and, having acquired strength and tenacity in my youth, I was spotted by the commander of the bodyguard of the lord of The Cuala. He it was who chose me for training in the art of arms.’

  ‘But, surely, that was a good life?’

  ‘So I thought, and did so for years. Then I realised that, while sons of nobles were sent to the hostings called by the King, and while they were given every opportunity to prove their courage and honour in battle, I was designated only to guard the mines. Why was this? I was told … I was not the son of a noble. One of my standing could only guard mines or other places worthy of a sentinel. I was told n
ot to try to elevate myself to the levels of the champion warriors …’

  ‘So you were usually put in charge of protecting the mines here, among the mountains?’ Eadulf was sympathetic. ‘And was there much theft from the mines that a guard had to be set?’

  ‘The lord of The Cuala jealously guarded his claims over the mines. However, you have seen the vastness of the territory. He left it to Corbmac, his commander, to appoint a guard on those mines thought to be vulnerable to theft.’

  ‘I have met Corbmac,’ Eadulf said quickly. ‘Are you a friend of his?’

  Eadulf was slightly shocked when Brother Dorchú made a spitting sound in the darkness. A moment passed before Eadulf realised that the gatekeeper was but recently a warrior rather than a religieux.

  ‘You dislike him?’ Having seen the two together earlier that evening he wondered at the response.

  ‘I am told by the abbot that I must show friendship to him. But Corbmac is arrogant. He looked down on me because I was the son of goatherds. He was the son of a bo-aire, a person of some noble blood. He therefore gave me every worthless job he could think of.’

  ‘Why would you be friendly to him just because the abbot told you to?’

  ‘Remember that this abbey thrives only because of the patronage of Dicuil Dóna. That is why the abbot cannot refuse hospitality to his daughter, Aróc.’ The words drew forth a bitter chuckle from the gatekeeper. ‘Did you know Aróc stays this very night in the abbey guesthouse?’ He went on before Eadulf could comment, ‘Corbmac came with her as usual as her escort.’

  ‘As usual? Does she come here often?’

  ‘More frequently than in earlier days.’

  ‘I was surprised to see Corbmac escorting her when we left Dún Droch Fhola. But she is now beyond the age of choice so that she can do as she wishes and go with any man she wishes.’ Eadulf frowned in the darkness. ‘Do you imply that she has a liaison with Corbmac? And even before she was at the age of choice?’

  ‘Even before I left service at the fortress, I knew she was overly friendly to him. But it is nothing to do with me,’ Brother Dorchú said. ‘You asked me if I dislike Corbmac. I do. Whatever he is, he is still influential and I will not disobey the abbot.’

  ‘I gather it was about a year since you decided to leave the bodyguards?’

  ‘It was.’

  ‘What made you join this abbey?’

  ‘It would be difficult for me to go to some other territory and expect to be welcomed after I had been in service to the lord of The Cuala. So I came here and I asked Abbot Daircell if he would accept me as a novitiate into the religieux.’

  ‘Which he did.’ Eadulf did not mean it as a question because the answer was obvious. He used it more as punctuation.

  ‘Which he did,’ repeated Brother Dorchú.

  ‘It must be frustrating.’

  ‘Frustrating?’ The gatekeeper sounded puzzled.

  ‘That, of all the tasks in the abbey, you seemed to be fulfilling the same task as in your previous following.’

  ‘The same? I don’t … ah! You mean I was once guardian of the lord of The Cuala’s mines and now I am guardian of the gates of the abbey? I don’t see it exactly as the same thing. Anyway, as well as my duties, I am being tutored in the rituals of the New Faith.’

  ‘And that is what you want?’

  ‘That is what I want.’

  ‘Let me ask you a final question because the hour grows late.’

  ‘One more question more or less does not matter. In fact, I am pleased to have had this talk to you, Brother Saxon. What is it you want to ask?’

  ‘In the years that you were used as a guard to the lord of The Cuala’s mine workings, and your resentment to Corbmac, to the way you were treated and your desire to leave, were you never tempted to take some of the precious metals that you were guarding rather than protect it?’

  There was a silence and then Eadulf frowned at the sound emanating from the gatekeeper. It took some time before Eadulf realised the man was laughing.

  ‘Steal the metals? I am strong, but it takes more than the strength of one man to shift metal – whether it be gold, silver, or other metals such as tin and copper. Above all, it needs someone who is learned in the various metal ores, learned about how they are extracted and smelted into manageable shape. I certainly do not have such a group of able accomplices nor anyone with the abilities needed. If I did, why would I be sheltering here?’

  ‘That’s a good argument.’

  ‘It is a true argument.’

  ‘So,’ Eadulf finally came to the point, ‘who here is knowledgeable about the mining world? Who do you think has the knowledge and contacts to successfully rob the mines of The Cuala?’

  The gatekeeper was quiet for a moment or so. ‘Perhaps it is not a matter of knowledge and contacts. It is a matter of knowledge of the purpose to which the metals can be put.’

  Eadulf reflected on this. ‘Surely there is only one purpose? One sells to the person who pays most.’

  ‘But why? Just to make oneself rich? I was a long time guarding the mines here. Not far from here are some old deserted mine workings, mainly lead mines. I saw the numbers involved and the time it takes to run a mining operation. By the time the ore is extracted, treated and distributed, it is hardly worth anything.’

  ‘So what are you saying?’

  ‘That maybe the mines are being robbed but of material extracted unofficially to avoid tribute because everyone has to pay tribute. The lord of The Cuala has to pay tribute to Fianamail, the King of Laigin, who, in turn, has to pay tribute to the High King Cenn Fáelad, son of Blathmaic, So perhaps one should be looking for the thieves closer to Dún Droch Fhola.’

  The gatekeeper suddenly rose. ‘I have some duties to attend to, Brother Saxon.’ He turned and was silently gone through the gate, leaving Eadulf sitting a long time in contemplation.

  Later, Eadulf repeated the conversation to Fidelma.

  ‘What prompted you to have this exchange with the gatekeeper?’ she asked with reluctant interest.

  ‘I wanted to know more about the man,’ he replied. ‘The fact that he was once a guard at the mines before being a religieux. I thought it would be helpful.’

  Fidelma caught a slightly defensive tone in his voice but she said nothing, much to his relief.

  ‘It does seem curious that he dwells so much on phantoms and the like, as if he were doing his best to warn people away from the remote places of The Cuala,’ he added.

  ‘Maybe it is just as he says. He is born of goatherders among these peaks and grown up with the local superstitions,’ Fidelma observed. ‘But I will say, it is interesting that he puts forward the theory that the stealing of the metal ore from the mines is actually a conspiracy by the very owner of the mines to avoid paying tribute.’

  ‘Tribute to either the King of Laigin, or for the King of Laigin’s tribute to the High King,’ Eadulf hesitated. ‘Could that really be a possibility?’

  ‘At this time we should examine every possibility.’

  ‘There is one thing that worries me,’ he frowned.

  ‘Only one thing?’ she said with the ghost of a smile.

  ‘We seem to be dwelling more on the theft of the precious metals from the mines of The Cuala. That is only a secondary matter. We came here to find out what has happened to the Princess Gelgéis. We owe that to your brother.’

  For a passing moment, an angry frown crossed her features and she stiffened. Then she relaxed again.

  ‘I have not forgotten my obligation to my brother or to Gelgéis, who has become my friend,’ she said coldly. ‘The only lead I can see at the moment is that there is a connection between her disappearance and the theft from the mines. How else did we find her brooch at the deserted buildings in Lúbán? I was beginning to formulate a theory but had to abandon it when Teimel did not recognise the male body.’

  Eadulf was bewildered but said: ‘We said earlier that Princess Gelgéis might have been kidnapped rather than b
eing killed because she recognised the thief. What if Brother Dorchú’s theory is right and she recognised Dicuil Dóna?’

  Fidelma shook her head immediately. ‘If the lord of The Cuala was involved he would not be transporting precious metals personally. What I want to do tomorrow is go into Láithreach and see if the local Brehon, Rónchú, has turned up. I need more details about the story of the men killed while they were trying to transport the metals to the seaport.’

  ‘I find it difficult to accept the attempt to evade tribute as a reason to steal gold and silver from the mines.’

  ‘I am not sure that I follow your reasoning.’

  ‘I have not dismissed the idea of the lord of The Cuala’s involvement,’ Eadulf explained, ‘but think of this. If you were doing this to avoid declaring an income for tribute, to avoid paying a tax on it, why would you dig up the gold and silver from your own land in the first place? Logically, you would not bother to excavate it and draw attention to it. Knowing it was there, you could just leave it. Certainly it would be a futile expenditure of time and energy, to dig it up and then send to the coast with it. If you needed it, why not hide it in your own territory in the deep solitary places that are countless?’

  Fidelma agreed. ‘You know by now, Eadulf, that an investigation is mainly a process of elimination. Let us gather the fragments of information before we assemble them together and then see what is to be discarded.’ She suddenly smothered a yawn. ‘It grows late and we should have some sleep. We have much to do and I feel that tomorrow will be an even longer day than today.’

  NINETEEN

  It was a cold but bright and cloudless day when Fidelma found herself crossing towards the stables in search of Enda. She suddenly heard her name called. The voice seemed soft, feminine and familiar. She turned to see the young daughter of Dicuil Dóna, Aróc, approaching swiftly behind her. She said nothing as the daughter of the lord of The Cuala halted slightly breathlessly before her. The look on the girl’s face seemed one of friendship, but there was tightness around the mouth and dullness in the eyes that seemed not to support the sincerity of the intended smile.