‘Before Abbot Maelcar took over and changed the Rule at the abbey?’
‘Just so. Abbot Maelcar changed so many good things.’
‘I gather you did not like him?’
‘How could anyone like him? He would insult me by calling me a provincial servant, when my family…’ She took a deep breath. ‘Maelcar was a lecherous old man who shrouded prurience in piety. He preferred to look at women from cracks in curtains. When I was at Brekilian recently, he-’
‘Go on,’ Fidelma invited when the girl suddenly stopped and a flush came to her cheeks.
‘I hear stories, that’s all,’ Iuna muttered.
‘And Iarnbud? I had the impression that you did not like him either.’
‘Am I to take it that these questions have some relevance to the death of the Abbot?’ Iuna said rudely.
Fidelma was unperturbed by the aggression in her tone.
‘You may. You may also assume that I am still carrying out the commission Queen Riwanon gave me.’
‘I was raised at Brilhag. The mac’htiern fostered me when my parents were killed in a Frankish raid. Iarnbud is always about the place.’ She shuddered suddenly. ‘He is a sinister old man, as far as I am concerned. Always creeping about the place, always peering and prying. No, I do not like him one little bit.’
‘What was the nature of the argument that I saw you having with him yesterday?’
Again the girl looked at her in surprise and said nothing for a while. Fidelma decided to prompt her again.
‘I was coming to speak with you when I saw you at the door which leads out to the path down to the small cove where some boats are moored,’ she explained.
Iuna was still defensive. ‘If you were that interested, why did you not come to speak to us and enquire then?’
‘I had to fetch Eadulf, and by the time we came back, you had both vanished. We went down to the cove and saw a boat sailing towards Govihan.’
Iuna smiled grimly. ‘That was Iarnbud.’
‘But you had also vanished. I thought you might have gone with him?’
‘I have my rowing boat there and was on my way to collect the oysters. So I left Iarnbud sailing to Govihan while I rowed along the coast to the oyster beds in the little bay beyond.’
Fidelma had already guessed as much after Aourken had told her of the meeting. She was still irritated that she had made a mistake in thinking Iuna and Iarnbud had sailed off together. So she and Eadulf had been on a wild-goose chase. She grimaced at the dark humour of the expression. They were, indeed, chasing the Barnacle Goose.
‘And the argument between you?’ she added.
‘Iarnbud was asking too many personal questions.’
‘Personal questions?’
‘About Macliau, about Riwanon, even questions about you.’
‘I don’t understand. What sort of questions? For example, what would he want to know about Macliau? He has surely known him since birth.’
‘He wanted to know about Macliau’s friends. He was always going off hunting with them, even though there was no need for meat for the kitchens, and sometimes he would return without any game. Iarnbud seemed curious, for it was unlike Macliau to take an interest in hunting.’
‘Why was this a subject of argument with Iarnbud?’
‘I told him that there was a reason for Macliau’s desire to hunt.’
‘Which was?’
‘Hunting was a euphemism used by Macliau. It disguised his pursuit of the local women. I am afraid my foster-brother is…’ She finished with an eloquent gesture of her shoulders.
‘You have heard the story of what happened yesterday. Do you think your brother murdered Argantken?’
Iuna’s mouth became a stubborn line and she vehemently shook her head.
‘Macliau is a fool, a profligate and reckless with women. He is also weak and he should never succeed his father as mac’htiern. That does not mean he is a killer. He has a horror of blood. Of course,’ she added, ‘there is no accounting what a weak man will do when there is a prospect of being denied the power he thinks he is entitled to.’
‘You say he should not succeed as Lord of Brilhag. Who would become mac’htiern then?’
‘When a suitable male is not available to become chieftain or king,’ the girl replied, ‘then it is time to stand aside for a woman to take over.’
‘Meaning Trifina?’
Iuna’s eyes flashed for a moment and then she seemed to catch herself and smiled without humour.
‘Perhaps,’ she replied shortly. ‘She is the only other child of Lord Canao. One must not only be of the bloodline but be perceived as the best person for the task.’
‘I presume Iarnbud was asking about me because he is suspicious of all foreigners?’ continued Fidelma.
‘He wanted to know if you had known Riwanon before you came here.’
This answer puzzled Fidelma. She asked: ‘How did he think I would have known her?’
‘Perhaps because your Cousin Bressal had been sent as envoy to King Alain and you were on your cousin’s ship when it was attacked?’
‘Why would that follow? Oh, he might not have realised that I only joined Bressal at Naoned. I suppose he thought that I had come to this kingdom with my cousin and had been at Alain’s court?’
‘Iarnbud is a strange man,’ Iuna said, almost to herself. ‘He has never liked Riwanon.’
‘Any reason?’
‘Only that he was once patronised by Riwanon’s predecessor as Queen.’
Fidelma was trying to work that out.
‘Do you mean that Riwanon is not the first wife of this King Alain?’ she asked.
‘Correct. She is his second wife. King Alain is twice her age, you see.’
‘What happened to his first wife?’
‘What happened to half of the population a few years ago? The Yellow Plague, alas.’
‘And then Alain married Riwanon?’
‘He did.’
‘And where was she from? Domnonia?’
‘No, she was of Bro-Waroch. Her father was Lord of Gwern Porc’ hoed on the edge of the great forest of Brekilien.’
Brekilien again, thought Fidelma. This name cropped up so many times.
‘So is Riwanon related to your foster-father’s family?’
‘The Lord of Gwern Porc’ hoed was one of the chieftains who owed allegiance to the kings of Bro-Waroch, but he was not of the royal family.’
‘And you think that Iarnbud dislikes Riwanon for no other reason than that she married Alain Hir?’
‘He needs little excuse for his likes and dislikes,’ the girl replied. ‘And now I think I have gossiped enough. Excuse me — I have my duties to perform.’
With a quick jerk of her head to indicate that the conversation had ended, she turned and walked away, leaving Fidelma gazing thoughtfully after her. Perhaps, she thought, the family relationships were entirely irrelevant to the matter, but they were certainly complicated.
On her return to the great hall, Fidelma found that some of the others had arrived and were sitting morosely around the fire. Macliau was seated on one side of the hearth apparently recovering from his travails, while Trifina sat opposite him, both their gazes seemed concentrated on the flames. Brother Metellus had apparently made the early-morning journey to the fortress to report on conditions at the abbey after the near-riot. He sat near them, drumming his fingers uneasily on the wooden arm of his carved chair. Bleidbara was standing before the fire, hands clasped behind him, while Eadulf remained at the table, having finished breaking his fast. He raised his eyes in a meaningful expression as Fidelma entered, as if to indicate the awkward atmosphere that permeated the room.
Fidelma was just walking across to join her husband when the now-familiar warning blast on a trumpet at the gates of the fortress caused them all to start.
Bleidbara’s head jerked up, his expression one of concern. He hurried to the doors and threw them open.
They could hear the sounds of hor
ses arriving and Bleidbara’s voice raised in question. It was not long before he came back. His expression was grim and foretold bad news.
‘What is it?’ demanded Trifina.
‘My men have returned,’ Bleidbara announced hollowly. ‘They found the four men who accompanied Macliau.’
‘Well, what do these men say? Why are they not brought before me?’ snapped Trifina.
Bleidbara glanced at Macliau, who was waiting anxiously for his reply.
‘They say nothing, lady, for they are all dead. They seem to have been shot at close range with arrows.’
There was a silence, broken only by a long shuddering breath from Macliau.
‘I see,’ said Fidelma slowly. ‘And where were the bodies found? I mean, were they in the proximity of the ruined oratory?’
‘Not far from it, but not close enough for any warning cry to be heard.’
‘Did your men bring the arrows with them?’
Bleidbara gazed at her in surprise, then muttered something and disappeared. He had returned in a moment and held out one of the arrows to her.
She looked at it. ‘Goose feather and three flights. A professional fletched arrow,’ she said, glancing over at Eadulf.
He nodded slightly, to show he understood. Bleidbara opened his mouth as if to speak, but changed his mind.
Macliau raised his head again, his pleading eyes regarding them each in turn.
‘They were my only witnesses that what I say is the truth,’ he said. ‘What trial shall I get now?’
Brother Metellus looked at him sorrowfully, saying, ‘Dead men do not make good witnesses, Macliau.’
Macliau jumped up, his mouth working.
‘I did not kill them!’ he cried. ‘Is that what you are implying. Brother Metellus? I did not kill anyone.’ He turned and almost ran from the hall in the manner of a petulant child.
‘This does not disprove Macliau’s story,’ Fidelma said. ‘It could have happened in the way he described. His men were killed and then the killers could have waited until Macliau and the girl were both asleep, entered the oratory, made him so drunk he passed out, and then stabbed the girl. The story is still feasible.’
Bleidbara glanced at Trifina, who had resumed her gaze at the fire. Her jaw was clenched.
‘There is one thing I should say,’ he said quietly. ‘Lady Trifina knows this.’
‘What is it?’
‘Our own fletcher made those arrows, which you remark on. There is a store of them in our armoury. Two weeks ago, the fletcher noticed that several bundles seemed to be missing. We could not account for their disappearance.’
‘Well, we need proof one way or the other, if we are to satisfy Barbatil and the local men,’ observed Brother Metellus.
Eadulf spoke up. ‘The attackers could well have stabbed the girl — but as Macliau woke, when they poured strong liquor into him to dull his senses, it would surely not have had such a rapid effect?’ he pointed out. ‘You cannot pour liquid down someone’s throat and expect them to become insensible with drink in so short a time.’
‘Are you saying that Macliau is lying?’ Trifina turned from the fireplace, her voice quiet but threatening.
‘No, I am not,’ Eadulf replied hurriedly. ‘What I am saying is that I think he would have had to have been drugged as well as having alcohol poured into him. If so, it would require someone with the skills of an apothecary.’
‘But why not simply kill him?’ Trifina demanded, and then added hastily, ‘Thanks be to God that they did not. But I do not understand the logic of this.’
‘I think the logic is easy to follow,’ Fidelma intervened. ‘Didn’t you tell us that you thought this Dove of Death, as you call him, was trying to disgrace your family? To follow your logic, we have your brother accused of murder and nearly strung up by a mob for something he didn’t do. Isn’t that precisely what you claim this Koulm ar Maro’s purpose is?’
‘So you believe Macliau is innocent?’
‘I would add the word “probably” to “innocent”. Having been too long in dealing with such matters, I cannot be dogmatic about anything until it is proven one way or the other,’ Fidelma replied.
To their surprise, at that moment, another warning call of a trumpet was heard from the gates.
‘That is a signal of approaching danger from the lookouts!’ cried Trifina, her face white. ‘The mob are coming for Macliau!’
‘Calm yourself,’ replied Bleidbara. ‘The mob won’t get into this fortress. Anyway, Barbatil has given his word.’ The young warrior hurried from the great hall. He was back within minutes.
‘It is Riwanon and Budic. They looked distressed.’
Within a short time, the Queen had entered, followed by Budic. Riwanon made for a chair and slumped into it, breathing heavily. She was dishevelled and covered in dust. There was a tear in Budic’s cloak, blood on his face, although there did not seem to be an obvious wound. He, too, was covered in dust.
Fidelma immediately poured wine for them. All present waited in silence, no one asking the obvious question. Riwanon did not speak until she had gulped several mouthfuls of wine.
‘We were attacked,’ she announced flatly.
‘Attacked? What — by the mob?’ demanded Trifina.
‘Where and by whom?’ asked Fidelma more cautiously.
‘Make sure the gates of the fortress are secured,’ Budic, having recovered himself, ordered Bleidbara. ‘They were riding close after us.’
Bleidbara went to ensure that the gates were firmly shut and that a watch was kept on the highway.
By now, Riwanon had calmed down a little.
‘We were nearing the little oratory, which I wanted to visit. I was riding in front with Budic, going through a stretch of forest. All I knew was that there was a cry and glancing behind I saw two of our men had fallen with arrows in them. Dead, I think. I heard Ceingar give a scream. Budic whipped my horse and we bounded forward. Only Budic and I escaped. He saved my life, yelling for me to ride as I have never ridden before. I am sure that they are pursuing close behind.’ She shuddered, before asking, ‘Are the gates closed?’
‘You are safe now in the fortress of Brilhag,’ asserted Trifina coldly.
Riwanon ignored her, looking directly at Fidelma and saying, ‘I need your assurance, Fidelma of Hibernia, that I am safe.’
Fidelma stared at her in astonishment, as there was a sharp intake of breath from Trifina.
‘Do you doubt it?’ Fidelma asked incredulously. For the implication was surely a direct insult to her hosts.
‘I ask it because I glimpsed one of our attackers — and he held a banner in his hand,’ said the Queen.
It was Budic who added grimly, ‘The banner belonged to the mac’htiern of Brilhag. We cannot deny the evidence of our own eyes.’
Bleidbara had just returned and overheard what Budic had said.
‘So you think that it was my men who attacked you?’ he said quietly. ‘We have had better things to do this day.’
‘Riwanon, there seems some conspiracy to bring discredit on the family of the lord of Brilhag,’ Fidelma intervened as Budic was about to respond. ‘We do not know the details, but we believe that whoever attacks under this flag is not connected with your husband’s friend.’ She turned to Budic. ‘How many were in this attacking party?’
‘Perhaps half-a-dozen, maybe even a dozen,’ replied Budic hesitantly. ‘We did not see them all.’
‘And you had two warriors and yourself in the party?’
‘The attack came by stealth. My men were shot down from behind the trees and bushes.’
‘And yet one of the ambushers came forward with this banner, thus ensuring that they might be identified? Did you not think that strange?’
‘Strange?’ Budic frowned.
‘To go to such lengths to ambush you, shooting from behind with the intention of killing you all, but then coming forward that you might identify them. I believe that is why you were allowed to survive.’
‘I only glimpsed the banner over my shoulder as Budic whipped up my horse,’ replied Riwanon thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps they emerged to give chase to us?’
Fidelma turned to Trifina. ‘I suggest that Bleidbara take some men and see if he can track these attackers. At least, he can recover the bodies of Riwanon’s maid and guards.’
‘You want Bleidbara and his men to leave the fortress now — when we might be attacked?’ Trifina was astonished.
‘But that will be dangerous!’ cried Riwanon in agreement.
Fidelma smiled at them both.
‘I am sure that these ruffians will not launch an attack here.’ She turned to Eadulf with an apologetic smile. ‘I would like you to accompany Bleidbara and his men. I need your expert eyes, for you know what it is I would like to see. However, I feel that I must remain here for the moment.’
Eadulf looked carefully at her. ‘I do not understand,’ he said. ‘Why is it you want me to go?’
‘Stet pro ratione voluntas,’ she whispered, glancing at the company. Let my will stand as a reason. Then she added quickly in their common language: ‘I don’t want to prejudice you by saying what I think you will find — just observe and report directly back to me. I do not think you will be in any danger.’
‘Very well,’ he replied.
‘I am willing to go, lady,’ Bleidbara now stated. ‘If it means finding out who is behind these attacks.’
‘Bleidbara is a capable warrior,’ Trifina said, ‘but your request places him and your husband in danger.’
‘I disagree, lady. The raiders only attack when the odds are in their favour. I am hoping that Bleidbara might be able to track them to their lair, wherever that is.’
‘Then I should go with them,’ Budic announced, apparently feeling that his reputation as a warrior was in question.
‘As commander of the Queen’s bodyguard, your place is here with her,’ Fidelma pointed out.
‘Where is it that this ambush took place?’ asked Bleidbara.
Budic hesitated, as if trying to recall the exact location. ‘It was along the track, just south of the oratory.’
The Dove of Death sf-20 Page 25