‘I am not saying that,’ replied Fidelma. ‘I am not sure of the connection yet. There is something else which worries me. Accobrán says that the raiding party’s tracks were hard to follow. Suanach hears one of them telling his men to make it easy for Menma to track them. The idea was to be able to capture you. These two views do not balance each other.’
Menma looked genuinely puzzled.
‘Their tracks were easy enough to see. I suppose the tanist would like to make the chase sound more arduous and exciting than it was. We came on two sentinels waiting for us but Accobrán had them shot before they could raise an alarm.’
Fidelma said nothing for a moment and then: ‘We will leave you for a while. I would not mention anything of this conversation to anyone.’
‘Accobrán has already asked if I had overheard anything about the purpose of the raid,’ Suanach said.
‘And did you tell him what you told me?’
‘I was tired and not thinking. It is only now that you have asked me that those snatches of conversation have come back to me.’
Fidelma compressed her lips a moment. ‘In which case, I would say nothing further to anyone about this matter until I ask you.’
‘I do not understand. Sister, but I…we…will do as you ask. Is it not so. Menma?’
Her husband nodded a little morosely.
‘Then we will leave you in peace for the time being.’ Fidelma hesitated a moment. ‘Tell me, Menma, did you ever attend when old Liag was giving instruction in star lore?’
‘Of course, when I was younger. So did Suanach.’
‘Beccnat, Escrach and Ballgel also attended, I am told.’
‘Indeed, but not in my day. They were all far younger than I was.’
‘I think most people of the Cinél na Áeda learnt the ancient tales at the feet of old Liag,’ added Suanach. ‘He appears unfriendly and eccentric but he is really a nice old man.’
‘Even our fierce tanist used to attend,’ added Menma.
‘And these tales of Liag’s — were they no more than the folk stories associated with the ancient beliefs of what the moon and stars represented?’
‘Of course. Liag was very particular,’ Suanach replied at once. ‘He used to tell us that knowledge was power and to know the hidden names was to possess a very dangerous knowledge…’
She broke off and Fidelma was just quick enough to see a warning glance from Menma. She turned back to the door.
‘Thank you, Suanach. A special thanks for what you did for me. I am beholden to you. The Uí Fidgente are enemies of my blood and there is no need for me to say-’
‘No need,’ interrupted Suanach with an answering smile.
Outside, Eadulf was still puzzled. ‘What was all that about? Surely the raiders were not looking for this gold mine…?’
Fidelma turned to him and placed a finger to her lips. ‘No word of the cave to anyone yet, Eadulf.’
At that moment the door opened behind them and Menma came out, drawing it shut. He looked troubled.
‘I wanted to add something, lady,’ he said quietly. ‘I did not want Suanach to hear.’
They looked at the young hunter expectantly.
‘You realise that Accobrán took no prisoners from the Uí Fidgente?’
‘Indeed,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘I found that something hard to understand.’
Menma inclined his head. ‘Accobrán had the bloodmist on him.’
It was an old term meaning to lose all sense in battle. The old storytellers told how the mythical hero Cúchullain could be engulfed by a battle frenzy when fighting and become possessed of what was known as the ríastrad, such a fury, such a battle madness, that he might slaughter friend as well as foe. The word literally meant an act of contorting but had become applied to the loss of control that a warrior might suffer in a battle fever.
Fidelma gazed at Menma in surprise. ‘You mean that prisoners could have been taken from the Uí Fidgente?’
‘I mean just that, lady. I have not seen a man in the grip of the bloodmist before. He killed three of the Uí Fidgente while they were attempting to surrender.’
‘Thank you, Menma.’
The young man nodded and returned to join his wife.
Fidelma was quiet for a moment while Eadulf waited for her to comment.
‘It is not a good sign for a tanist to lose control in battle. Yet often one hears of warriors doing so, for battle is a terrible experience.’
‘But this was no battle,’ pointed out Eadulf. ‘To surround and capture less than a dozen men is not a task that should provoke such a condition in a trained warrior.’
‘We must bear that in mind,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘Becc should be made aware of the fault, as should his derbfhine if Accobrán is to succeed to the chieftainship. Now where were we? Ah yes, no mention of the cave to anyone unless I say so.’
‘Very well. But between you and me, what does it mean? Why would the Uí Fidgente be searching for that mine? They could not hope to work it and precious little gold would they be able to take before being discovered. I find nothing here that makes any sense at all.’
‘You are right, Eadulf. But we do not have all the facts as yet. Just a few major pieces are beginning to come together, though I believe that I begin to see some sort of pattern emerging.’
‘More than I do,’ sighed Eadulf.
‘Let us have something to eat. Then we will have to confront Brother Dangila and finally go in search of the wily Liag.’
Eadulf was in agreement. ‘I understand the path we are going to tread with Brother Dangila but, frankly, little else.’
After their meal they were riding along the track to the abbey of the Blessed Finnbarr when a small boy nearly ran across their path, causing them to rein in sharply. The boy was Síoda.
‘Hello, Sister.’ The boy halted and greeted Fidelma with a grin of recognition.
‘The very person I wanted to see.’ Fidelma smiled down at him. ‘How would you like to earn a screpall?’
The boy was definitely interested but regarded her with some suspicion.
‘What do I have to do?’ he asked dubiously.
She reached into her marsupium and pulled out the coin and held it up. ‘Answer a question. Do you remember telling us about that piece of gold that you found?’
The boy pouted. ‘The fool’s gold?’
‘I think that you told us that you found it on the hill near the Ring of Pigs?’
The boy nodded.
‘But Gobnuid said it was fool’s gold,’ he said.
‘He did,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘Can you be more precise as to where you found it? Was it in the cave that stands at the top of the hill, just above the Ring of Pigs?’
‘It was not,’ the boy replied.
Fidelma was disappointed. ‘Where was it, then?’
‘On the track. A little way down the old track that runs towards the abbey and past the Ring of Pigs.’ The boy glanced round surreptitiously. ‘Do not tell my parents that I was playing by the Ring of Pigs. I am not supposed to.’
‘On the track to the abbey?’ mused Fidelma.
‘Are you sure of the place?’ demanded Eadulf.
‘It was where the track passes the old rocks.’ The boy was scornful. ‘I know it well enough. It was where I saw Accobrán shouting at Beccnat back in the summer. That was when I found the nugget.’
Fidelma stared hard at the boy.
‘The place where you saw Accobrán shouting at Beccnat?’ she repeated slowly. ‘What was he shouting about?’
The boy shrugged indifferently. ‘You know the way grown-ups are. One minute shouting, the next minute being all sloppy and kissing.’
‘They were kissing?’
‘I said so, didn’t I?’
‘And you are sure about the place?’ Fidelma pressed him. ‘And the time? Summer, you said. Was it about the feast of Lughnasa?’
‘I have said so.’
‘Did you tell Gobnuid where you found the gold?’
The boy shook his head. ‘The fool’s gold? Not exactly.’
‘What do you mean — not exactly?’
‘Well, when I thought it valuable, I did not want to let on about the place just in case Gobnuid went there and found any other pieces. I told him it was further down the hill, nearer the abbey.’
Fidelma smiled and handed the coin to the boy. ‘You have no need to tell anyone of this conversation, Síoda.’
The boy grinned and tossed the coin into the air.
‘What conversation, Sister?’ he chuckled. Then he turned and ran off into the woods.
Eadulf regarded Fidelma with a degree of bewilderment. ‘Does that help?’
‘It shows that Gobnuid was not told of the real location of the boy’s find. His knowledge of the cave came from other means. And it shows that Gabrán was right — something was going on between Beccnat and our handsome, bloodthirsty tanist. And it places them together at the spot where Beccnat was found and around the time she was killed.’
Eadulf was startled. ‘Do you mean that Accobrán killed Beccnat?’
‘We still do not have enough information. But everything helps when you are struggling to find a path in the darkness, Eadulf,’ replied Fidelma solemnly.
Eadulf sighed impatiently.
‘How do you even know whether such a path exists?’ he asked in exasperation. ‘I confess that I am less certain of things now than I was when we first came here. To begin with, we were confronted with the murders of three girls. Each killed at the full of the moon. Obviously it was the work of a lunatic, a maniac. Then we were sidetracked by the murder of Lesren by his wife. In a way, it did seem logical in that Lesren’s killing was remotely connected with the murders. But now, with this raid by the Uí Fidgente and gold mines and so on…well, I haven’t a clue what is going on.’
‘I believe that our next port of call will put some of the pieces together,’ she said.
‘Brother Dangila?’
Fidelma inclined her head.
When they reached the abbey of Finnbarr Fidelma espied a familiar figure about to leave on horseback. She halted her horse and waited for the man to approach.
‘Brother Túan, isn’t it?’
The owlish-faced religieux halted and greeted her with a smile. ‘Sister Fidelma. How go your inquiries?’
‘I am encountering difficulties,’ she confessed. Then, indicating Brother Eadulf, she introduced him.
‘I have heard of Brother Eadulf the Saxon,’ acknowledged the steward of the house of Molaga with a smile of greeting. Then he turned quickly back to Fidelma. ‘So you are finding the path difficult?’
The corners of her mouth turned down a little in a wry expression. ‘My mentor, the Brehon Morann, always said one should beware the easy path for there is more deception on the path that appears simple than on the path that appears difficult.’
‘Doubtless, there is truth in that,’ acknowledged Brother Túan solemnly.
‘Speaking of paths, I am glad, however, that our paths have crossed again. You remember what we were speaking of last time we met?’
The round-faced man nodded mournfully.
‘Remembrance does not make the facts better,’ he said. ‘Death before its time is a bad visitor.’
‘You implied that it was Accobrán who encouraged the three strangers to leave the house of Molaga and come to the abbey of Finnbarr.’
Brother Túan nodded. ‘I am glad that you said I implied it for it is true that I could not swear it as a fact. Accobrán left shortly after the feast of Lughnasa and returned here. The three strangers came here soon afterwards.’
‘But you say that Accobrán did talk with them while he was visiting your abbey?’
‘He did.’
‘Do you know what their conversation was about?’
Brother Túan smiled wanly. ‘I was not privy to all their conversations and the only one that I overheard was innocuous enough. That was why I could only suggest that it might have had something to do with their removing themselves from Molaga to come here.’
‘What was it that you did overhear?’
‘It was innocuous, as I have said. One of the strangers was telling Accobrán about the country that they came from and what he had done before joining the religious, that sort of thing.’
‘Accobrán speaks some Greek, as I understand? And the conversation was carried on in Greek?’
Brother Túan confirmed it. ‘Accobrán studied at the house of Molaga and has a rudimentary grasp of the language. Indeed, it was the only language that we initially had in common with the strangers. I am sure I have mentioned that fact. I tried to teach them a little of our own tongue.’
‘Do you remember what Accobrán was doing in the seaport at that time?’
The steward rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘I think he was conducting some trade on behalf of the Cinél na Áeda. He was looking for a ship to transport some goods. Hides, I think.’
‘So he spent some time down on the quays among the merchants?’
‘I suppose he did.’
‘Sea trading is essential to the life of the house of Molaga. I don’t suppose you remember what sort of ships put into the port at that time?’
Brother Túan chuckled ruefully. ‘It would be a miracle if I did. There is quite a lot of trade that goes through the port at that time of year. In the summer months, especially at Lughnasa, sometimes ships have to wait outside the harbour until there is space to come in and unload or take on cargo. As steward I do make a note of ships that trade with us.’
Fidelma sighed softly. She had realised that it would not be easy but she had been hoping. Brother Túan regarded her disappointment with amusement.
‘I am sorry if I cannot help. Truth to tell, of all those ships in and out of the port at that time I can only be sure of one. It was taking a cargo for the house of Molaga up to the abbey at Eas Geiphtine.’
Fidelma suddenly stiffened. ‘To the abbey at Geiphtine’s Waterfall? That’s on a narrow creek of the River Sionnain. That is in Uí Fidgente country, isn’t it?’
The steward seemed surprised that she knew the whereabouts of the abbey.
‘The Uí Fidgente are not without religion,’ he admonished her, misunderstanding her emphasis. ‘We often communicate with the abbey there. I know Brother Coccán, who is head of the community, very well.’
‘I am especially interested in the fact that this trading ship might have left Molaga for a port in Uí Fidgente country at the time when Accobrán was there. Are you absolutely sure?’ she pressed.
Brother Túan was frowning, trying to understand her sudden interest.
‘I know for certain that we sent a cargo to Brother Coccán. It was, indeed, at the time when the tanist of the Cinél na Áeda was there. He was looking for a ship to transport a cargo of hides to Ard Mhór. It was the same time that he was talking to the strangers.’
‘Would you know if he spoke with the captain of this ship, the ship transporting a cargo to the abbey at Geiphtine?’
‘It is possible.’ Brother Túan examined her curiously. ‘But Geiphtine is in the opposite direction to Ard Mhóir. What is this about?’
Fidelma smiled and shook her head.
‘It is not for you to understand. It is for me to gather information and so long as you answer my questions honestly then there is nothing to worry about, Brother Túan,’ she said softly.
The steward gave an irritated sniff. ‘I am sure that I have no wish to pry into the affairs of a dálaigh.’
‘I am sure you do not.’ replied Fidelma gravely. ‘We do not have to hold you from your journey any longer. Thank you. Brother, for all the help you have given us.’
Brother Túan looked disconcerted for a moment and then shrugged. ‘Deus vobiscum.’ he muttered with a glance at them both and smacked his horse’s flanks with his heels. He rode away without waiting for them to reply.
Brother Eadulf was regarding his disappearing figure with an air of bewilderment.
‘Are you now trying to discover whether Accobrán was responsible for bringing the Uí Fidgente raiders into this territory?’ he asked Fidelma after a moment or two.
‘I already know that Accobrán was responsible, directly or indirectly,’ Fidelma assured him. ‘What I did not know until just now was the manner in which information reached the Uí Fidgente.’
‘What information?’
Fidelma heaved a short sigh of impatience. ‘The information about the Thicket of Pigs, of course.’
‘You don’t mean that the raid was something to do with the gold, do you?’
‘I believe it had everything to do with the gold. But we must not let ourselves run before we walk. Ah, here is Brother Solam,’ she said, spying the approaching fair-headed young steward. ‘Now we will find Brother Dangila.’
A short time passed before the tall, dark figure of Brother Dangila joined them in the abbey garden and bowed gravely to each of them before accepting the invitation to seat himself on a bench before them. They had already taken seats beneath the apple tree in the courtyard for it was a warm day of late October and the sun shone out of a cloudless sky.
‘I am told that you wish to speak to me again, Sister,’ Brother Dangila said in his musical Greek.
‘I do. How do you know Liag the apothecary?’
The man’s face was impassive. He hesitated before responding.
‘He is an old soul. I am sure his lives on this earth have been many,’ the Aksumite finally replied. ‘Perhaps we have encountered one another in a past life and past age.’
Fidelma made a quick, impatient gesture with her hand. ‘Stick to this life, this time and this place.’
Brother Dangila looked steadily at her. ‘Then in this life, at this time and in this place, I met Liag when I was out contemplating the great work of the heavens. It was an interest that we both shared. I have already told you that my comrades and I are fascinated by star lore. That is the reason why we came here, as I told you. We came to see the manuscripts of Aibhistin.’
‘The only reason why you came here?’ Fidelma said with emphasis.
For the first time a slight look of uncertainty crossed the man’s bland features. He did not reply immediately.
‘You told me that you had worked in the mines of your country before you became a religieux,’ Fidelma pointed out. ‘The gold mines.’
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