The Dove of Death sf-20

by Peter Tremayne

  ‘Out of the way!’ roared the rider angrily, his hand falling to his sword. ‘In the name of the King, out of the way!’

  ‘Who are you?’ Bleidbara demanded.

  ‘A messenger from King Alain on his business. Now move!’

  ‘I am commander of the guard at the fortress of Brilhag,’ replied Bleidbara. ‘You ride in dangerous country, my friend.’

  ‘Not if the mac’htiern of Brilhag is loyal to my King,’ the man declared haughtily.

  ‘Brilhag is loyal but there are enemies that lurk in these woods.’

  ‘You do not have to tell me that. I was nearly caught by a band of cut-throats not far back along this track. They loosed some arrows at me but my horse was faster than they were. Are you seeking them?’

  ‘You saw them?’

  ‘Three men were all I saw.’

  ‘We are in pursuit of them.’

  ‘Then follow this path. I came on them making camp in a small clearing near a stream.’

  Bleidbara was puzzled at the news. ‘Camped already? But it is several hours until nightfall. Why, we could ride back to Brilhag from here and arrive before it grows dark.’

  ‘And it is there that I have to go, on King Alain’s business. Is the Queen Riwanon there?’

  ‘She is,’ asserted Bleidbara.

  ‘Good. I am to inform her that her husband, Alain, will be at Brilhag by dusk tomorrow. He rides together with the lord of Brilhag and an escort of his warriors.’

  ‘Then continue on your way, my friend,’ Bleidbara said, moving his horse aside.

  A short time later, Boric, who was scouting ahead again, returned.

  ‘The messenger was right. There are three men camped in a small clearing ahead.’

  ‘But why so early?’ Bleidbara queried. ‘That I really cannot understand. They could make more time before nightfall.’

  Boric grimaced. ‘I am afraid that they have their reasons,’ he replied. ‘The men have the female with them — the maid of Queen Riwanon.’

  ‘Then Ceingar is still alive?’ Eadulf’s question was unnecessary.

  The stout tracker nodded.

  ‘It was my intention to just follow them until we find their lair,’ Bleidbara said reflectively. ‘Now I do not think we have a choice.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Eadulf said, ‘there is no choice. We must rescue the girl.’

  ‘How far ahead are they?’ Bleidbara asked and, when the position was outlined, he turned to his men. ‘We will leave the horses here and move quietly forward on foot. We will surround their camp and come on them suddenly. Hopefully, they will give up without a fight. But be careful — these men are ruthless and they kill.’

  He glanced at Eadulf. ‘Do you want to stay here to look after the horses?’

  Eadulf shook his head firmly. ‘I’ll come with you, of course.’

  They moved forward cautiously and, at a silent signal from Bleidbara, they spread out left and right to encircle the camp which announced itself by the sound of a crackling fire in the clearing ahead of them. As they drew near, Eadulf could see through the undergrowth the light of the blazing campfire. Two raiders were squatting before it, their weapons at their sides. There was no sign of the third man nor of the female prisoner. The two men were talking to one another in loud voices, and now and then glancing towards the far side of the small clearing and laughing lewdly. Eadulf raised his eyes and saw a movement from the bushes at which their glances were directed.

  He reached forward, tapped Bleidbara on the arm and pointed.

  The warrior nodded to indicate that he had understood. Then he held up his dagger, gesturing at himself and then at the bush. Bleidbara’s men were highly trained. The young commander was already moving silently and rapidly, skirting the camp, making directly for his target. Eadulf kept close behind him.

  They came on the scene that Eadulf had already suspected might meet their eyes. The girl, Ceingar, was stretched on the ground. Her dress was raised. She lay without struggling as the man panted and heaved on top of her.

  In a couple of strides Bleidbara had moved across the intervening distance, grabbed the rapist by the hair and yanked him backwards. The man’s reactions were quick. He gave a cry of alarm as he was wrenched off by Bleidbara’s strong arm but, at the same time, he was grabbing for the dagger in his belt. Bleidbara had no choice but to use his own weapon, plunging it under the man’s ribcage.

  From the camp, Eadulf could hear the cries of alarm as Bleidbara’s men closed with the other raiders. The inert form of the girl now came alive; screaming, she scrambled up, pulling down her dress and staring wildly about.

  Eadulf moved forward.

  ‘Have no fear!’ he yelled. ‘We are your rescuers. You are free!’

  She was staring at him like one demented and, to his surprise, she lunged forward, clutching at the warrior’s discarded knife and raising it. For a moment Eadulf froze. The girl would have struck home but Bleidbara, having dropped the dead form of the assailant, took a pace forward and grabbed the girl by the wrist, twisting it slightly so that she was forced to drop the knife.

  He said something to her and she slumped forward as if in exhaustion and sank to the ground again.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Bleidbara said to Eadulf. ‘The girl did not know who we were and acted out of instinct. Let her sit still for a moment.’

  Boric suddenly appeared. His face was grim with satisfaction.

  ‘They are both dead,’ he said, jerking his thumb across his shoulder.

  ‘You killed them?’ Eadulf felt disappointment. ‘We could have questioned them.’

  ‘I am afraid not, Brother Eadulf,’ replied Boric without remorse. ‘They fought like demons and had no intention of allowing themselves to become prisoners. They had the battle fever on them. There was nothing else we could do but meet their steel with our own.’

  Eadulf glanced to where the girl, Ceingar, was huddled on a log, her knees drawn up to her chin, arms clasped around them, rocking back and forth. Her eyes were wide and bright, gazing in horror at the body of the man who had violated her.

  ‘Does she know that she is safe?’ he asked Bleidbara.

  The warrior gave an affirmative gesture. He spoke to the girl and she eventually raised her head and stared from Bleidbara to Eadulf.

  ‘She recognises us.’

  ‘Ask her what happened,’ Eadulf instructed.

  ‘She says that they had been out riding, her mistress, Queen Riwanon, and her party. Suddenly, arrows flew. Two of the warriors were cut down. Riwanon and Budic galloped off but, as Ceingar made to follow them, one of the members of the ambush party leaped out and caught her horse’s bridle and thus she was trapped.’

  ‘What happened to the bodies of the warriors who were slain?’

  There was some hesitation on the girl’s face, a look of distaste before she spoke.

  ‘The attackers put their bodies on one of the horses and took them away.’

  ‘And what happened to her?’

  ‘They told her that she was a prisoner and for a while they bound her wrists. They released her only when…’He gestured silently to the spot where they had found her.

  ‘How many were there in this attacking party?’

  ‘About half-a-dozen.’

  ‘What happened after she was captured?’

  ‘They rode along the track and over a hill until they saw a farmstead. The leader…’

  ‘Who was the leader?’ interrupted Eadulf. ‘Did you recognise him?’

  The girl pointed at her slain assailant. Eadulf was disappointed, as clearly this man was not the ‘Dove of Death’.

  ‘And what did he do at the farmstead?’

  ‘They rode down on it and killed the farmer, then set fire to the buildings. Then a group of people appeared on the hill and came running towards them, bearing weapons. They were a large crowd, too large for them to fight off. So they rode away.’

  ‘To the oratory?’

  The girl frowned uncertainl
y.

  ‘We saw your tracks there,’ he explained. ‘Was that where the ship was waiting?’

  Again her eyes were wide. ‘There are no tracks on water,’ she said hoarsely, obviously still in shock. ‘How did you know that?’

  ‘A logical deduction — from the tracks,’ Eadulf smiled. ‘Three of your captors went on board the ship and then the other three took their horses with you and came here. Is that right?’

  Ceingar sighed deeply. ‘We came here and camped and…’ She shivered violently.

  ‘Well, it’s all over now,’ Eadulf said. ‘Do you know where you were heading? Why did some of the attackers go aboard the vessel?’

  As he expected, she did not know. ‘They said nothing to me and I heard nothing of their plans,’ she replied.

  ‘We might as well take their horses and ride back to Brilhag,’ Bleidbara said. He turned to the girl. ‘Are you fit enough to travel?’

  ‘I think so.’

  Bleidbara was examining the sky. ‘If we leave now, we should get to Brilhag by nightfall.’

  At a signal, his men doused the fire, gathered the weapons of the raiders and some few items they found on their persons, and tied their horses together on a lead rope. Then they remounted and started back along the track at a swift canter.

  ‘Bleidbara has returned,’ Iuna announced as she moved to the doors of the great hall. Those gathered there had already heard the call of the trumpet from the main gates.

  Even before Iuna spoke, the gates had swung open and the warriors, closely followed by Eadulf, came in. Behind them was the pale figure of Ceingar, looking dishevelled. She gazed quickly around, saw Riwanon and ran to her, casting herself on her knees before her and speaking rapidly, sobbing as she did so. Riwanon replied sternly and turned to Iuna, saying something. Iuna moved forward and helped the girl to her feet and, after a few words from Riwanon to Ceingar, led her away.

  ‘The girl is distraught,’ Riwanon told Fidelma, ‘so I have sent her to clean herself and rest.’

  ‘I would like to question her,’ Fidelma said. ‘We need to find out as much as we can about these attackers.’

  ‘It will have to be later when she is more composed,’ the Queen replied firmly.

  ‘Very well.’ Fidelma turned to Eadulf with a warning look to convey that she did not want him to discuss his observations in front of the others.

  Bleidbara, however, recounted what had happened.

  ‘Thanks be that you were able to save poor Ceingar.’ Riwanon looked sad. ‘I can only imagine the fate that those beasts had in store for her. But my warriors, ah…it distresses me. Both killed, you say?’

  ‘We were unable to recover their bodies. Ceingar said that only she was taken alive in the ambush,’ Bleidbara replied. ‘She was not sure what the captors did with the bodies, but they took their horses. We have, of course, brought all the horses back to the fortress with us.’

  ‘And you say that this attacking party split into two — that some of them went on shipboard while the others, together with the girl, rode towards the north-east?’ asked Fidelma.

  ‘That is so, lady,’ Bleidbara agreed.

  ‘It is a pity that you didn’t take one of those men prisoner,’ commented Trifina, ‘then we should have found out the truth about this Koulm ar Maro.’

  Bleidbara seemed a little irritated by the criticism.

  ‘Lady, they did not want to surrender,’ he replied stiffly. ‘They fought to the death, with a fanatical zeal that I have not seen before.’

  ‘You found that curious?’ Fidelma was interested by the comment.

  ‘It was unusual,’ agreed the warrior. ‘Our warriors might not contemplate surrender to the Franks, but with our own people, they know they would not be badly treated.’

  ‘And you gave them the opportunity to surrender?’

  ‘I am not in the habit of slaughtering men who would rather live, lady,’ he replied firmly.

  ‘Of course not. I just wanted to be sure that I had the facts.’

  ‘But we are no further forward than before!’ Trifina said petulantly. ‘My brother still stands accused of murder. These brigands still attack unarmed farmsteads, kill merchants, even attack and capture foreign ships on the high seas — and we still do not know who they are or who is behind them.’

  ‘We know one thing — that they do so under the flag of the mac’htiern of Brilhag,’ pointed out Riwanon.

  ‘That is just a ruse to mislead people,’ snapped Trifina, colouring hotly.

  Riwanon spread her hands and smiled.

  ‘But it must be proved, must it not?’ This last question was aimed at Fidelma.

  ‘That is so,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘The people of this peninsula need to be shown, in a way that leaves little doubt, that these brigands and their leader are not connected with this household.’

  ‘So it is a pity, Bleidbara, that you were not able to bring one of them here, even if they were wounded,’ ended Riwanon.

  Bleidbara coloured. ‘I have already explained that we did not have the opportunity, lady.’

  ‘But a pity, nevertheless,’ she sighed.

  Later, in their chamber after the evening meal, as Fidelma sat combing her long red tresses and preparing for bed, she was able to talk over the matter with Eadulf. She asked him to describe everything that had happened.

  ‘And you are sure that Bleidbara gave every opportunity to the brigands to surrender so he could take one alive?’

  Eadulf confirmed it.

  ‘We were worried about the fate of the girl, Ceingar,’ he explained. ‘That was why we decided to attack the camp. Our original plan was simply to track them back to their lair. We thought that they would take the horses overland to some secret harbour where we might find the Koulm ar Maro, moored somewhere on the eastern side of the Morbihan.’

  ‘It was certainly a logical plan,’ agreed Fidelma.

  ‘Then when we saw one of the brigands having his way with Ceingar…’ Eadulf shrugged. ‘Well, Bleidbara gave the signal to attack. I thought the other two, who were probably waiting their turn with her, poor girl, would surrender when they saw the odds were against them. But they refused and fought with such a fury that it could only have ended with their deaths or our own. Deo adjuvante, Bleidbara’s men were good and the raiders paid the price for their sins.’

  ‘It is a pity that I am not able to question Ceingar until tomorrow. She might have had some information about the leaders of this band by which we could track them.’

  ‘She has suffered much, that one,’ Eadulf reflected. ‘Best that she have a good rest to recover from her ordeal. Then her mind will be clearer.’

  ‘Yes, although sometimes a fresh remembrance of things is more helpful than letting a person rest on the memory. After a time, the mind begins to rationalise, make interpretations of the memory and thereby time distorts it.’

  ‘It seems that we are no further forward to a solution to all this,’ Eadulf said, rather wearily. ‘We have been dragged into some local mystery not of our own choosing — and, to be honest, we don’t understand the half of it. What makes it worse is that we know almost nothing of the language and have to rely on others for interpretation.’

  ‘We know a little of the language of the Britons, thanks to our time in the Kingdom of Dyfed. So we have some idea of what is being said.’

  Eadulf was moody.

  ‘A little knowledge is dangerous,’ he grumbled. ‘The words might be similar here but we still have to look to others for detailed information. I do not think we should have become involved in this business. At least, I think Riwanon’s commission to you was ill-advised.’

  Fidelma’s mouth tightened.

  ‘We became involved when my Cousin Bressal was murdered, when our friend Murchad was cut down. We are involved and I will stay involved until I have resolved this mystery.’

  Eadulf was about to respond but thought better of it. It was no use arguing when Fidelma was in this kind of mood.

&n
bsp; ‘Well, I am for bed,’ he said. ‘It has been another long and tiring day, and I am exhausted.’

  Annoyed at Eadulf’s lack of understanding, Fidelma did not reply. She sat for a long time by the window looking out onto the shimmering moonlit waters of the Morbihan with its dark shadows of islands. Carefully, she turned over the events of the last few days in her mind. There was something there which nearly made sense…but not quite. She was sure that the answer was almost within her grasp; almost, but not quite. It needed something, some simple key, to make everything fit into place.

  ‘There is no sign of the girl Iuna this morning,’ remarked Riwanon. ‘Do we have to fend for ourselves?’

  Fidelma and Eadulf had come down that morning in a sombre mood to find Riwanon already seated at the table. Macliau was sitting in a corner by the hearth, staring with moody unseeing eyes at the embers of a fire that had not been attended to for some time. He neither raised his hand nor acknowledged anyone. Brother Metellus had returned to the abbey on the previous afternoon as matters there needed his attention. As they came down the stairway into the great hall, the door opened. Bleidbara entered and stood looking about uncertainly.

  Fidelma noted the peevish tone in Riwanon’s voice, but she understood that the Queen had been through much these recent days, with the attack on her and her entourage, and must be feeling the strain.

  ‘Where’s Budic?’ asked Riwanon now. ‘I seem deserted by my bodyguard, as well as my maidservant.’

  ‘Budic is in the stables, practising his swordsmanship with Boric,’ Bleidbara said.

  ‘And Ceingar? Is she still abed?’

  ‘I’ll go to the kitchens to see if she is there with Iuna, shall I?’ he suggested.

  ‘It would be helpful,’ Fidelma intervened, noting that Trifina was also missing. ‘Meanwhile, I’ll check that she is not in her room. There is an excuse for everyone to have overslept this morning.’ She turned to Eadulf: ‘Throw some logs on the fire before it goes out.’ She raised her eyebrows, indicating Riwanon. From her expression, he understood that it fell to him to keep the company distracted in some way so that the heavy atmosphere could be lifted.