Valley of the Shadow

by Peter Tremayne

  When he paused again it was Fidelma who urged: ‘Then what happened?’

  ‘I was considering what plan I should adopt when my men saw the warrior I now know to be Artgal ride to the spot where the bodies were and examine them. You two and the woman had disappeared into the gorge. I was not sure, at that time, who you were or what Artgal was looking for. I did not know even then what exactly had happened. Only after Artgal and his men had left did we venture to the spot.’

  He shuddered involuntarily.

  ‘I have seen many vicious acts in war, all made while the battle fever gripped men’s minds, but there are none that I recall which approached this horror. I went with my scouts and saw that the hostages had been mutilated – the old Threefold Death of which storytellers used to frighten us as children. Only when I saw how the bodies had been arranged did I realise the significance.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me what you knew when you came to Gleann Geis instead of pretending you were a dealer in horses?’ demanded Fidelma. ‘That was a poor disguise, easily seen through.’

  Ibor grinned lopsidedly.

  ‘It was the only disguise I could think of at the time which gave me a chance of entering the glen. But as for telling you – I did not know who you were. When Laisre introduced us, I knew you only by reputation. But I was told that you were in the company of a Roman monk.’ He glanced at Eadulf. ‘He might have been one of Mael Dúin’s men or one of Ultan’s followers. I could not trust you. I could not know whether you were part of the plot or not.

  ‘I suspected, however, that Orla was involved because she was the one who met with Brother Solin and the butchers of Ailech. The more I thought about it, it was obvious that Mael Dúin could not conceive or work this plot on his own or just with Solin’s backing. To work accurately, such a plan would have to have at least one supporter in Gleann Geis.’

  Eadulf nodded slowly.

  ‘What happened when Colla came later to investigate? Did you observe what he did?’ he queried.

  ‘We hid from Colla and his men. I had sent two of my men to track the warriors of Ailech. They did so as far as the borders of the Uí Fidgente and then returned to report that those scions of evil were well on their way back to their master at Ailech. We watched Colla search the valley for a while. He rode as far as the foothills in which we were hiding. Then he returned to Gleann Geis.’

  Fidelma sat back.

  ‘And it was then that you decided to come into Gleann Geis posing as a horse trader to see what was going on there?’

  Ibor made an affirmative gesture.

  ‘Then it all fell into place, or so I thought. Some great charade had been enacted to prompt a terrible war. Only your refusal to panic and cry “wolf!” at the first opportunity stopped the immediate outbreak of hostilities. The problem was, Brother Solin recognised me as a warrior of Ulaidh in the service of Sechnassuch.’

  ‘I overheard your conversation at the stable. Why didn’t he betray you?’

  ‘He might well have had not I called his bluff and said I would also denounce him. It appears that there are many in Gleann Geis who are not in this plot. I was trying to find out who was on which side when Solin was murdered and you were placed on trial.’

  ‘And you fled!’ sneered Eadulf. ‘Thus bringing suspicion down on yourself.’

  ‘What else could I do in the circumstances?’ demanded Ibor. ‘Someone had to be free to inform Sechnassuch.’

  ‘And Brother Solin’s death was not at your hands?’

  ‘That much is obvious.’

  Fidelma was frowning as she thought over the details of Ibor’s story.

  ‘There are many questions to be resolved,’ she brooded.

  ‘Such as how Mael Dúin in his northern kingdom at Ailech knew that Laisre was going to send to Cashel for a religious to negotiate on matters of Faith? How could he know that this religious was to arrive on a particular day so that his men knew where and when to place the bodies?’ Eadulf interposed.

  ‘Mael Dúin must have been closely informed as to what was going on,’ agreed Ibor. ‘Orla showed his men to the place where the bodies were found by you. Was she acting on her own? It seems unlikely. But who was in the plot with her?’

  Fidelma nodded.

  ‘She is certainly part of this conspiracy. But … and this is the question we really need to answer … if Orla was thus an ally of Brother Solin, why did she kill him?’

  Ibor started forward in surprise.

  ‘That had not occurred to me. Are you sure that you saw her at the stable? If so that also implicates Colla as her accomplice?’

  Fidelma was quiet for a moment.

  ‘Yes. But we are still left with a mystery – why, if this matter emanates from such a terrible plot to create civil war here, does one ally turn on another? Why kill Brother Solin and then kill Dianach? It simply does not make sense.’

  Ibor spread his arms helplessly.

  ‘I was hoping that you would be able to unravel this knot.’

  ‘Even I cannot perform miracles, Ibor,’ replied Fidelma grimly.

  ‘I have never known of such an instance where all paths lead into nowhere; where there is much suspicion but no tangible line of facts. I am afraid that the answers still lie in the ráth of Gleann Geis.’

  Eadulf shuddered slightly.

  ‘Better to ride for Cashel and report what we know already to your brother.’

  Ibor was immediately in agreement.

  Fidelma shook her head firmly.

  ‘I presume that we are now free to travel where we wish?’ she asked Ibor with a touch of irony.

  The lord of Muirthemne was contrite.

  ‘Of course. My men detained you only because I told them to be suspicious of everyone coming from Gleann Geis. I was going to try to contact you and offer to work with you to solve this matter.’

  ‘In that case Brother Eadulf will remain with you but I shall return to Laisre’s ráth,’ Fidelma announced. ‘It is only there that the final threads of the mystery will link together. However, if you can spare one of your most trusted men to ride to my brother at Cashel … ? We need to inform him of Mael Dúin of Ailech’s plans and Ultan’s involvement.’

  ‘Your brother will be suspicious of a warrior from Ulaidh arriving with this wild tale,’ protested Ibor.

  ‘Have no fear. Can one of your men cut me some wands of hazel?’

  Ibor frowned in bewilderment but relayed the order to one of his warriors. The man hurried off.

  ‘What do you mean to do?’ he asked. ‘There might be great danger in Gleann Geis now. If Orla and Colla suspect that you know anything about their plot, about what is really going on, then they will not hesitate to kill you. A person who can willingly accept the murder of thirty-three young hostages merely in order to create disunity and strife will not think twice about further deaths to hide their criminality.’

  ‘This I know,’ Fidelma accepted. ‘How many men did you say you have with you?’

  ‘Twenty warriors of the Craobh Rígh, the royal branch of Ulaidh,’ Ibor replied proudly. The Craobh Rígh were the elite bodyguard of the kings of Ulaidh. Then he hesitated. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘I think that I am beginning to see a pattern in this muddy picture,’ she mused. ‘Let me think things through for a moment or so.’

  After some moments the warrior returned with a bunch of half-a-dozen pliant hazel rods. Fidelma took them and asked Ibor for his sharp knife. They watched in bemusement as Fidelma deftly began to cut a series of notches along the rods. Then she bound them together with a thong of leather taken from her marsupium and handed them to Ibor.

  ‘All your man has to do is to hand these to my brother at Cashel. They are to be placed into his hand and no other. Is that understood?’

  Ibor turned to the warrior who had brought the rods to him.

  ‘Do you understand what you must do, Mer?’

  The warrior nodded and took the bundle of rods.

  ‘It shall be done a
s you say, Sister,’ the man said.

  Fidelma looked up at him.

  ‘I have recorded a message to my brother in Ogham, the old script of our tongue. He will understand.’

  ‘It is vital that this message get through,’ added Ibor quietly. ‘The safety of the five kingdoms is at stake.’

  The warrior named Mer raised his hand in a formal salute and hurried away.

  ‘It will be a few days before my brother receives that message,’ reflected Fidelma.

  ‘Have you asked him to march here with an army?’ asked Eadulf eagerly.

  ‘And do the very thing that Mael Dúin and his allies want him to do?’ Fidelma mocked. ‘No. I have merely informed him of the situation and told him to beware of Ailech and Ultan of Armagh.’

  ‘Then what do you propose to do?’ Eadulf asked, perplexed.

  ‘As I have said, I shall go back to Gleann Geis and investigate further. But I believe that I will not have far to search now. Ibor is right. We might yet find friends in Gleann Geis who will be as horrified as we are about this plot to destroy Muman. Once I know for sure who is responsible then I can place the facts before them and seek their aid.’

  ‘But is it wise to go back?’ protested Ibor. ‘You will be in constant danger.’

  Fidelma smiled briefly.

  ‘Wisdom is being wise at the time wisdom is needed. I need to provoke some answers. I think I will need but another day to solve this mystery.’

  Eadulf regarded her in astonishment but Fidelma spoke with quiet confidence.

  ‘It will be early evening when I get back to Gleann Geis. So I should be ready to act by tomorrow morning. At dawn tomorrow I want you, Ibor, and your men to be in control of Laisre’s fortress. Take command of all the key points by dawn.’

  Ibor was so amazed at her request that he was unable to speak. But his face did not hold the total astonishment which Eadulf’s expression held.

  ‘It will be no hardship,’ Fidelma assured him earnestly. ‘I have barely seen more than half a dozen of Laisre’s warriors guarding it at any one time and the gates are left wide open all night.’

  Ibor still looked doubtful.

  ‘It is not so easy. Even in darkness it would be difficult to reach Laisre’s ráth without being spotted. The reason why the gates are never closed is obvious. There is only one narrow ravine entering the valley through which only two might ride abreast and that is always guarded, so no need to close the gates of the fortress. The alarm would be given at the ravine if armed strangers entered.’

  Eadulf was in total agreement.

  ‘Even when we rode out at dawn, we were challenged, Fidelma,’ he reminded her. ‘Ibor is right. His men will not be able to enter the valley at all.’

  ‘But there is another route.’ Fidelma ignored their objections. ‘There is the river.’

  Ibor laughed dismissively.

  ‘A river of rapids and waterfalls which is not even navigable by boat? Only a spawning salmon could hope to get up it into the valley. I have heard about that so-called route from Murgal when he was boasting of the impregnability of the valley.’

  ‘According to Cruinn, there is a tiny rocky path beside the river, room for one man at a time, sometimes passing through caves but eventually emerging into the valley beyond.’

  ‘Is she to be trusted?’ The lord of Muirthemne was doubtful.

  ‘She let it slip in an unthinking moment and seemed to regret that she had done so. I think we can trust her on that. It means coming into the valley on foot. Will you find the path and under cover of darkness reach the fortress without being seen? After all, you will face only a few unprofessional warriors while you command a troop of the Craobh Rígh.’

  Ibor flushed at the implication that the Royal Branch warriors of Ulaidh were afraid of conflict with a handful of non-professional warriors.

  This time Ibor gave no hesitation.

  ‘If there is a way, Sister, my men and I will find it. If we can enter the valley unseen then we will be in control of Laisre’s ráth before dawn as you demand.’

  ‘Good. Once you have control then I think I will be in a position to draw the veil from these plots and murders without fear for myself.’

  ‘But we have twelve hours to survive before that,’ Eadulf pointed out.

  ‘We?’ queried Fidelma with a smile. ‘I suggested that you remain with Ibor.’

  ‘You do not think that I am letting you return alone, do you?’ Eadulf asked in annoyance.

  ‘I do not ask this of you, Eadulf. It is not your fight.’

  ‘Neither was the fight between Cashel and the Uí Fidgente but I became involved and made it my fight,’ he said firmly. ‘What threatens Cashel is still my fight.’

  He placed a certain emphasis on the last sentence.

  Fidelma pretended not to understand but she did not argue further with him.

  ‘Then, Ibor, we will see you at dawn tomorrow. We will be banking on you.’

  Ibor escorted them to the small ravine where his red-haired lieutenant, more deferential now towards them, had their horses waiting. They bade a brief farewell and the red-haired warrior guided them out of the foothills to the edge of the valley. Fidelma refused to allow Ibor’s man to ride further with them in case they encountered anyone from Gleann Geis on the way back. Fidelma and Eadulf continued to ride south keeping to the border of the foothills and not heading back across the valley.

  ‘Do you really think that you can prove Orla was responsible for the death of Solin?’ Eadulf broke the silence after they had been riding for a while.

  ‘I need to answer one question and then I might safely put forward a hypothesis,’ she replied quietly.

  Eadulf’s mouth drooped pessimistically.

  ‘A hypothesis is no argument before a judge,’ he replied.

  ‘True, but it is going to be the best I can offer,’ she agreed. ‘I think it will be enough to bring forth those who will support us against Mael Dúin of Ailech.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘That I cannot say until I have secured the final link because at the moment it is that one link which worries me. Without it being put in place, the entire argument is destroyed.’

  They had made a detour around a small foothill when suddenly a band of warriors came charging at them from two different directions, yelling and waving their swords threateningly. Fidelma pulled her horse around in a tight circle but they were surrounded and without weapons to defend themselves. Eadulf’s horse was rearing and flaying out with its front hooves. He had difficulty maintaining his seat but succeeded in doing so and bringing the animal under control.

  Eadulf found himself cursing under his breath quite forgetting his religious calling. For the second time that day they had been taken prisoner.

  The warriors came to a halt, ringing them in, swords resting easily across their saddle bows, ready to use at a moment’s notice. Fidelma felt cold. These were not Ibor’s men.

  ‘Hold hard!’ cried a woman’s familiar voice.

  The ring of mounted warriors opened to allow a rider through. The slender figure was undoubtedly their leader. She removed her war helmet and surveyed them dourly.

  ‘We thought that you had forsaken our hospitality, Fidelma of Cashel.’

  It was Orla, a satisfied look on her dark features.

  ‘As you see,’ replied Fidelma, as evenly as if there had been no threatening behaviour on the part of the warriors. ‘As you see, we were making our way back to Gleann Geis. We had not forsaken you.’

  The truth of the statement was obvious enough for they were scarcely a half mile from the entrance of the gorge and had clearly been riding in that direction. A slight expression of bewilderment crossed Orla’s face as she realised the point. Then she scowled.

  ‘Nor will I forsake you, Fidelma, until I have made you retract your accusation against me.’ Her voice was cold and brittle with anger. ‘Why did you leave?’

  ‘I would have thought that Murgal might have been able t
o explain the reason for that,’ Fidelma commented with apparent unconcern.

  ‘Murgal? What has he to do with this?’ demanded the wife of the tanist of Gleann Geis.

  ‘Murgal is a Brehon. He would know what motivated me to force myself to leave your brother’s hospitality.’

  ‘Well, as Murgal isn’t here to speak perhaps you will? Better still, perhaps your Saxon friend can explain it for me? Then I can be sure that I am hearing the truth.’

  Fidelma glanced to Eadulf anxiously, hoping that he would understand what she had meant or, at least make no reference to Ibor or his men.

  ‘Easy enough to explain,’ the Saxon said calmly. ‘We came to look at the remains of the slaughtered men and follow the tracks to see if we could discover anything which Colla might have missed.’

  Orla regarded him with suspicion.

  ‘I knew that you did not believe my husband’s report after he came to examine the bodies.’

  ‘It is not a question of belief or disbelief. Your husband, Colla, is not a trained dálaigh of the courts, lady,’ pointed out Eadulf. ‘He might not know what to look for. There is no substitute for one’s own trained observation.’

  Orla almost ground her teeth in suppressed fury.

  ‘That is not the reason. I know that you both want to destroy my husband and I. For what reason I do not know.’

  Fidelma regarded her sadly.

  ‘If you have done nothing wrong, then you need fear nothing. But it is as Eadulf has said. There is no better way to examine the scene of a crime than at first hand.’

  Orla was still disbelieving.

  ‘And why would Murgal know where you were? You did not tell him. He was as puzzled as we were by your absconding from the ráth.’

  ‘Not if he had really thought about it.’ Eadulf leaned forward in his saddle in a confidential mood. ‘You see, as a Brehon, he would know that a dálaigh could not accept the prohibition issued by Laisre. Any dálaigh would have to see the evidence for themselves.’

  Orla appeared confused for a moment.

  ‘So you followed the tracks?’ She gazed questioningly at Fidelma. Was there fear in her eyes? ‘What did you discover that Colla could not?’