The Dove of Death sf-20

by Peter Tremayne

  Fidelma ran lightly up the stairs. Instead of going straight to Ceingar’s room, she made her way along the corridor to Iuna’s chamber and knocked gently on the door. Iuna was always up early and her absence puzzled Fidelma even more than Ceingar’s did. There was no answer. She knocked again, this time a little louder, then waited a moment before she tried the handle. The door swung open. The room was in semi-gloom but Fidelma saw that the bed was empty. The bedlinen was rumpled almost as if a struggle had taken place there. Then she noticed the pieces of a broken clay bowl on the floor beside the bed and a spoon, as if someone had been eating from the bowl and dropped it, breaking it. Certainly Iuna had left the room in a hurry.

  Fidelma quickly examined the chamber. She noticed that the door to the adjoining chamber was slightly ajar and remembered that Iuna had said she slept in the room next to Trifina.

  She walked across the chamber and pushed the door open. Again she saw that the bed was empty — but here the bedlinen had been pulled back as if in haste. A jug had been overturned near the bed; it had fallen onto a thickly woven carpet, spilling some water, but obviously the carpet had cushioned it so that it had not broken, nor would it have created any noise as it fell.

  Fidelma was about to walk out of the room when she noticed a dark stain on the linen sheet. She moved across and peered at it, wishing there was more light, then she put forward a finger and touched it. It was damp. She raised the finger, examined it and realised that it was blood.

  She stood undecided for a moment or two before leaving through the main door into the corridor. She was about to go back to rejoin the others when she remembered the object of her mission — to locate Ceingar. Riwanon’s maid had been allocated a nearby chamber.

  Fidelma paused and knocked upon the door. She was not expecting an answer and so, when none came, she merely opened the door and looked inside.

  She was expecting another empty bed. In that expectation, she was unfulfilled. For Ceingar lay in the bed. She lay on her back, her white face turned to the ceiling, her mouth open slightly, and her eyes wide and staring. There was a knife buried in her chest and the dark stains of blood were all over her body and over the sheets.

  Fidelma did not have to examine the knife too closely to see that it was a dagger — with the emblem of a dove on its handle.

  There was a sense of shock in the fortress after Fidelma had told the others about her grim findings. Only her own quiet authority stemmed the mood of panic among them. There was much disquiet among the servants and the guards at the news. Macliau had retired to his chamber in his now usual uncommunicative mood. His dazed features seemed genuine enough, and Fidelma saw that he had taken a small amphora of wine with him. Only Riwanon and Budic remained in the great hall.

  ‘I just pray that my husband, Alain, reaches here safely,’ Riwanon confided to Fidelma. ‘There is much evil here in Brilhag and I do not think we will be safe until he arrives.’

  ‘I agree that there is much evil,’ Fidelma replied quietly. ‘And with your continued permission, I shall try to make what sense I can of these events.’

  Riwanon made a small gesture with her hand.

  ‘I am afraid, my Hibernian sister, there is little you can do here. I was foolish to suggest that you could help. After all, you are in a foreign land and do not speak our language. Best stay here in safety and pray for the safe arrival of my husband. I was wondering if we should send a messenger to hasten him.’

  ‘While it is wise to be cautious, his messenger said he would be here before dusk today. I feel I must do what I can, however limited my means of doing so,’ insisted Fidelma. ‘But, by all means, send one of your men to find your husband.’

  Riwanon smiled softly.

  ‘You have a good heart, Fidelma. If you feel you must persist in your enquiries, then carry on. You have my authority to do what you can to resolve the mysteries that beset this place.’

  ‘Your authority?’ pressed Fidelma.

  ‘My full authority,’ confirmed Riwanon. ‘But I will remain here with Budic as my bodyguard until my husband comes.’

  Outside the great hall, Eadulf said: ‘I don’t understand this. Is there a logic that Ceingar be killed and Trifina and Iuna abducted?’

  ‘Even in the most bizarre set of circumstances you will find a logic, Eadulf,’ Fidelma replied. ‘From what you have told me of your finding of Ceingar, I think there is a reason why she was killed. But the abduction of both Trifina and Iuna is more puzzling. Let us see if we can trace how they were taken from their rooms and by what method transported.’

  It was at that moment that Bleidbara approached them. His features were set hard.

  ‘We’ve found another body,’ he announced.

  ‘Is it Trifina or Iuna?’ asked Eadulf immediately.

  ‘Neither. It is one of my men who was on watch at the small harbour below. His throat was cut. I think that Trifina and Iuna were removed by boat.’

  ‘Kidnapped on the Koulm ar Maro?’ Fidelma asked.

  ‘Without question,’ asserted Bleidbara. ‘You know that I have been scouring these islands under the orders of Trifina for the last week, searching for this Koulm ar Maro? Yet I have not found its hiding-place. They must have raided the fortress last night.’

  ‘But why kill Ceingar? Why abduct Iuna and Trifina?’ Fidelma was thoughtful. ‘It doesn’t make sense unless…’ She paused and then asked: ‘What is the last place you would look for Trifina, if she was abducted?’

  ‘The last place?’ Bleidbara looked puzzled. ‘I do not follow your logic, lady.’

  Fidelma pointed across the headland, saying, ‘You would not look for her in her own villa…on Govihan?’

  ‘But there are servants on Govihan — Heraclius the apothecary and others. Why would she be taken there?’

  ‘Because, as I have said, that is the last place they would think that we would look. Come on, let us sail for Govihan. You have your ship ready, it should not take long.’

  Below, they could see the Morvan, still anchored in the bay.

  Bleidbara looked undecided for a moment and then he shrugged.

  ‘I suppose it is worth a try,’ he admitted. ‘I certainly have no better idea.’

  On the quayside Boric joined them. He seemed excited.

  ‘One of my men saw something, just before dawn,’ he told them. ‘He observed a man carrying the body of a woman on his shoulders, place her into a boat and sail off.’

  Bleidbara stared at him, astounded. ‘Then why didn’t he report it immediately?’ he almost shouted.

  Boric spread his hands. ‘The man was fearful lest he get into trouble. He shouted a challenge and when the man carrying the body did not stop, he loosed an arrow — which he was sure hit him. However, this man did not stop or release his burden. He climbed into the boat, hoisted sail, and away went the boat before the guard could reach it. It was then that the sentinel realised his mistake — and this is why he failed to report the matter.’

  ‘Mistake?’ Bleidbara stared at him. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘The man he shot at was Iarnbud, and the orders of the lord of Brilhag are that Iarnbud is his bretat and has the right to come and go as he will. My guard only mentioned this to me just now when he heard the news of the disappearance of Trifina and Iuna. He is still afraid of being punished for shooting at the bretat.’

  Bleidbara was angry. ‘The man is an imbecile and shall answer to me when I return. He is sure that Iarnbud was carrying the body of a woman? In what direction did his boat go?’

  ‘To the islands — he is not sure where.’

  Fidelma looked grimly at Bleidbara. ‘We will try Govihan first,’ she said.

  The young apothecary from Constantinopolis greeted them on the island of Govihan. He looked shocked when Fidelma told him the purpose of their visit.

  ‘We have not seen Trifina since she returned to Brilhag with you, lady, the day before yesterday,’ he said. ‘As for the lady Iuna, she scarcely visits here.’ />
  ‘I thought it was too simple,’ Bleidbara said glumly, turning to Fidelma ‘But we had better search the villa now we’re here.’

  ‘We will do what we can to find the lady Trifina,’ Heraclius said, calling one of the maids to gather the servants together.

  The search of the villa proved futile; even Heraclius, under Bleidbara’s instruction, unlocked his stone-built hut so that they could look inside, but on condition that they touched nothing. As they came out, and Heraclius relocked it and disappeared through the walled garden to find out how the other members of the household were proceeding, Bleidbara, Fidelma and Eadulf stood on the clifftop, surveying the sea before them.

  ‘There are a lot of islands out there,’ Bleidbara said heavily. ‘It’s an impossible task to search them all.’

  ‘If they were taken on board this sea raider — let’s call it the Koulm ar Maro — from Brilhag, why did no one notice the ship in the bay?’ demanded Eadulf. ‘Surely you have lookouts on the Morvran who would have noticed such a large ship come into the inlet below the fortress — even at dead of night?’

  Bleidbara was defensive.

  ‘The Morvran was anchored in the bay under the fortress walls,’ he said. ‘They would not see anything if the Koulm ar Maro came to anchor on the other side of the headland.’

  Eadulf flushed a little at the rebuke because he had no sooner made his comment than he realised the answer.

  ‘The question is — what now?’ Bleidbara went on. ‘I have sent men around the island to ensure that there is nowhere we have overlooked — caves or undergrowth, for instance. We have searched the villa, so there seems no way forward.’

  Fidelma suddenly gave an exclamation of surprise.

  She pointed downwards at the rocky coast below them. A little boat was bobbing on the water and a tiny figure was desperately trying to make it to shore. The surging waves brought the little boat tantalisingly close, but then pulled it back. The figure seemed to have no oar to guide the boat in. Then a larger wave than the rest suddenly propelled the boat right up the beach, and when the water receded, the boat remained there, held fast by the pebbles and rocks. The figure seemed to fall over the side of the boat into the still-frothing water and crawl using only one arm for a short distance before collapsing face down.

  All those present on the clifftop shared the same thought: there was something very familiar about this lone sailor.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When Fidelma turned to speak to the others, she found Bleidbara and Eadulf already running down the grassy knoll which led to the shoreline below.

  By the time they all reached the spot, one of Bleidbara’s men was approaching, hurrying from the other direction. He, too, had seen the boat and its occupant.

  Iarnbud lay face down in the shallows where he had fallen from the boat, trying to drag himself up above the tidemark. The shaft of an arrow was still embedded in him, close to his spine.

  Bleidbara and his companion waded into the shallows, reached forward and dragged the bretat up beyond the clawing waves.

  Iarnbud let out a pitiful groan.

  ‘Mercy! He still lives,’ muttered Eadulf, bending down to the man. But after examining the wounds, he rose and shook his head at his companions. The man was beyond help.

  Iarnbud opened his glazing eyes, peered round and tried to focus on Bleidbara. His mouth moved, but all that came from it was a dry rasping cough and a trickle of blood.

  ‘What is it, Iarnbud?’ Bleidbara encouraged softly.

  The man spoke incoherently. They could discern the name ‘Heraclius’ repeated several times clearly, but the rest they could not understand.

  ‘He wants the apothecary,’ said Bleidbara. ‘He asks for Heraclius.’

  Then, with an apparent summoning of strength, Iarnbud grabbed hold of Bleidbara’s shirt and dragged his head nearer. Of the words that poured forth from the thin, bloodstained lips, all they could distinguish were ‘Koulm ar Maro’.

  ‘The ship?’ demanded Fidelma quickly. ‘What does he say about it?’

  The warrior bent his ear to the man’s lips. They moved feebly, whispering softly and then, without warning, in the middle of a word, Iarnbud’s head fell back and he was dead.

  Bleidbara gazed down at him for a long time and then exhaled softly.

  ‘Well, he won’t need Heraclius now.’

  ‘What is it?’ Fidelma asked urgently. ‘What did he say?’

  Bleidbara lowered the dead man’s shoulders to the ground and looked at them. His expression seemed torn between sorrow and triumph.

  ‘He found the ship, the Koulm ar Maro. He managed to overhear their plans. Apparently, those plans will come to fruition tomorrow.’

  ‘Tomorrow? What happens then?’ Fidelma wanted to know.

  ‘The Koulm ar Maro is due to sail out into the Big Sea, using the morning tide. It will then make a rendezvous off the coast near the abbey, by which time the success of their plan will be complete.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Eadulf said.

  Bleidbara shrugged. ‘That’s all he said. Apart from something about food and Heraclius, which made no sense at all.’

  ‘Trifina said that Iarnbud was working for both of you. Is that right?’

  Bleidbara nodded, saying, ‘He was loyal to the family of Brilhag. During these last few weeks, he travelled around, trying to pick up news of this Koulm ar Maro. Now he’s given his life for the little news that he could garner for us.’

  ‘If only he could have told us what the completion of their plan meant,’ muttered Eadulf. Suddenly noticing that the small boat was drifting, he waded into the sea to grab hold of the gunwale and draw it back up on shore. As he did so, he glanced inside and let out an exclamation.

  ‘Quickly! I thought it was just a pile of cloth, a discarded sail there — but look!’

  Bleidbara tore aside the canvas.

  The still figure of Iuna lay there. Her face was white and she lay very still, as if in death.

  Bleidbara reached into the boat and, with ease, the tall warrior lifted the body of the girl in his arms. He walked the few paces up the beach and laid her gently on the ground beyond the waves.

  Eadulf at once knelt to examine her.

  ‘Still alive,’ he said. ‘Still alive, but unconscious and very cold.’

  He explored the girl’s skull with his fingertips, and then he bent as if to smell her breath. ‘She has not been hit on the head, but from the blue of the lips, I think she has taken a poison of some kind. I can smell it on her breath. But I’m afraid such a poison is beyond my powers to diagnose. We do need Heraclius, after all.’

  Bleidbara swore softly under his breath and then, turning to his companion, issued a quick order. The man trotted away.

  They stood anxiously round the unconscious form of Iuna, not knowing what to do, until the young apothecary arrived and made a swift examination.

  ‘She has been poisoned,’ Eadulf offered, feeling helpless. ‘But I do not know with what substance.’

  ‘You are right, Brother Eadulf,’ Heraclius said, peering at the girl’s blue lips. ‘She has been poisoned. I believe that she has eaten the Death Cap fungi.’ The seriousness of the situation showed in his features.

  ‘Well? Can you help her?’ pressed Fidelma.

  ‘I cannot hold out any great chance of recovery. It depends when she ingested the poison. It is a potent one, usually fatal; just one of the fungi is enough to ensure that a full-grown man can suffer a painful death. It is usually terminal in two days.’

  ‘You mean there is no antidote?’ Fidelma said, shocked.

  ‘No full antidote for the toxins. However, we will take her into the villa and give her an extract made from the ripe seeds of the Milk Thistle. There is hope, but only if she has not long ingested these toxins. If she is going to survive then we will know by tomorrow morning.’

  He signalled to Bleidbara’s man to lift the girl and carry her up to the villa. Glancing at the body of Iarnbud,
he said, ‘I must tend to the living and leave the dead,’ and turned after the warrior carrying the girl in his arms.

  ‘I didn’t warm to the man overmuch,’ sighed Eadulf, ‘but we can’t let him give his life in vain.’

  ‘Well, there is only one thing for me to do,’ Bleidbara said determinedly. ‘I will attempt to intercept the Koulm ar Maro as it makes a run for the Big Sea at dawn tomorrow.’

  ‘How will you do that?’ Fidelma asked.

  ‘The Morvran stands ready. We will sail to the channel and await the Koulm ar Maro there. She has to pass through that narrow channel at the right time, when the tide is running from the Morbihan. My crew are men who are descended from the Veneti. We come from generations of sea-fighters.’ His voice was rock-steady. ‘We will be ready for them.’

  ‘You might call this the Little Sea, Bleidbara, but it is still large enough to lose a ship in, and all these islands are easy hiding-places,’ Eadulf commented.

  ‘I am familiar with these waters, friend. Now I know where the raider is going to be and what it intends to do, I can deal with the Koulm ar Maro.’

  ‘I want to come with you,’ Eadulf announced firmly, without looking at Fidelma. The truth was that his prime concern was that she might insist on accompanying Bleidbara on the Morvran herself. If there was to be a sea battle, then he determined that she should be out of harm’s way. ‘I would be useful if any of the Barnacle Goose survivors are still prisoners with them,’ he added, as if to find an excuse. ‘I would be able to recognise them.’

  Bleidbara was suddenly in a good humour. As a warrior, he understood action and was happy now that he had something to do that he could understand.

  ‘You have courage, Eadulf,’ he praised him. ‘For a religious, you seem to have no qualms about throwing yourself into conflict.’

  ‘If it means tracking down these murderers, then I can bear such discomfort,’ Eadulf replied.

  Fidelma reached out her hand and touched Eadulf on his arm, looking at him in silent approval. She understood why he had volunteered, and, if the truth were known, she felt he was right. Her place was to return to Brilhag, for that was where she knew she had to be, to resolve this mystery.