Nemon did not even register surprise.
‘So long as he appears to collect his cows.’
‘You may have to keep them longer than you have anticipated. Not only has Artgal disappeared but Brother Dianach has been found murdered on his farm.’
Nemon’s features remained stony.
‘Well, if I keep the cows,’ she finally said, having apparently thought the matter over, ‘at least I will not have to return the money. Dead men kill their liabilities.’
Even Fidelma was nonplussed at this unscrupulous attitude. She decided there was nothing more to be said and left the cabin. She found Eadulf at the gate talking with Murgal and Rudgal; both men were still mounted.
Murgal greeted her with immediate disapproval.
‘You were told not to leave the ráth until your business with Laisre was finished.’
‘Have you been told that Brother Dianach is dead?’ she replied, ignoring his reproof.
‘Rudgal brought me the news.’
‘You will find his body on Artgal’s farm. Artgal himself is missing. It was, however, Brother Dianach who gave the cows as a bribe to Artgal and not Ibor of Muirthemne. Your foster-daughter … Nemon is the witness to the transaction. Andthere stand the cows, still in her field because Artgal has not collected them.’
Murgal regarded her with narrowed eyes.
‘Are you telling me that Artgal has killed the young man Dianach?’
‘I am not telling you anything,’ replied Fidelma solemnly. ‘As you have pointed out, I am not allowed to investigate, according to you and your chieftain. You may conduct what inquiries you wish. Eadulf and I are now returning to the ráth.’
They left Murgal seething with irritation and proceeded to walk back to the ráth.
It was obvious that Rudgal had not told anyone else of the discovery of Brother Dianach’s body other than Murgal. There were a few people about but no one seemed interested in them and the sounds of festivity were emanating from the feasting hall.
It was dusk when they entered the hostel. There was no one about. Fidelma lit the lamps and made a search for something to eat. While she prepared a meal, Eadulf sat at the table resting his hands on his chin.
‘I don’t understand it.’ He finally broke the silence. ‘Why would Brother Dianach pay such a large sum to Artgal, simply to ensure that he did not change his claim that you killed Brother Solin?’
Fidelma put down some dried bread and cheese on the table, all she could find, and sought out a jug of mead.
‘I think we can speculate. Dianach was involved in whatever Solin was involved in. If we knew what that was, we would know why he was prepared to risk much to ensure that I was imprisoned or tried for murder. I think there is some inevitable link in the chain of events from the murder of the young men to Dianach’s own slaughter. But I do not know where the chain even starts. Why would Dianach want to do me such harm?’
Eadulf cut himself a slice of cheese.
‘Retribution? He believed that you killed Brother Solin. Perhaps he was emotionally tied to Solin to the point where he wanted vengeance?’
She shook her head firmly.
‘No. It does not make sense. He would have waited until the outcome of the hearing. Why spend a whole cumal in a bribe which he did not have to pay? Artgal was prepared to swear against me anyway.’
Eadulf grimaced negatively.
‘I don’t know.’
Fidelma’s expression was firmly set.
‘I have made up my mind what we should do,’ she announced. ‘This is too important to wait until after the negotiations. Ibor of Muirthemne remains the one link from which we might trace our chain. If we find him, we will start on the path to a solution. The way to Ibor lies in tracing those tracks from the site of the ritual massacre. I am sure of it.’
‘So what shall we do?’
‘We will leave here before dawn tomorrow, when everyone is asleep, and make our way to the site.’
‘Laisre will not be happy,’ Eadulf sighed.
‘Better for him to be unhappy and get these mysteries solved so that there is no bad blood between Cashel and Gleann Geis,’ she replied firmly. ‘The more that I have thought about this, the more I believe that the answer to this mystery is of greater importance to Cashel than agreeing with Laisre about the placing of a church and school here.’
Eadulf stirred uncomfortably.
‘More important than converting this corner of the kingdom to the Faith?’ he queried. ‘Surely Ségdae of Imleach will not agree?’
Fidelma shook her head.
‘I fear that there is a common answer to what has been happening here. According to Brother Solin, he was involved in something that would bring about the fall of Cashel before the summer ended. My oath to my brother and the laws of this land forbid me to ignore such a threat.’
There was a tap on the door of the hostel and before either could answer it was opened and Orla’s young daughter entered. She carried a basket on her arm. A momentary expression of irritation passed over her features when she saw Fidelma but then her eyes brightened as they alighted on Eadulf.
‘I knew Cruinn was not here,’ she said in a husky voice. ‘I have come to make some supper for you.’ She glanced quickly at Fidelma and added: ‘For you both.’
Eadulf rose and glanced down at the dried bread and cheese that he had been contemplating eating. He grimaced wryly then smiled.
‘It will be very welcome, Esnad.’
The girl placed her basket on the table and began to unpack fresh bread, cold meats, boiled eggs and some vegetables. She had even brought an amphora of wine.
‘Do your mother and father know that you are here?’ inquired Fidelma.
Esnad raised her chin defiantly.
‘I am of the age of choice,’ she replied in an annoyed tone. ‘I was fourteen last birthday.’
‘Yet your parents might be angry that you are consorting with us after what has happened.’
‘Let them be,’ the girl said dismissively. ‘I do not care. I am old enough to make my own decisions.’
‘There is no denying that,’ observed Fidelma gravely.
The girl finished unpacking. There was, at least, enough food for a passable supper.
It was clear that the girl felt uncomfortable in Fidelma’s presence and it appeared that she wanted to speak with Eadulf on her own. That intrigued Fidelma. She was also amused that Eadulf seemed embarrassed at the young girl’s attentions. Nevertheless, she hoped that Eadulf would have the sense to see that the girl wanted to speak with him.
She rose with a smile.
‘I promised to discuss something with Murgal,’ she said with a meaningful glance at Eadulf, hoping that he would understand her motive.
The Saxon looked thoroughly alarmed but he apparently understood that she wanted him to stay and discover what it was that Esnad wanted of him.
Esnad was looking pleased.
‘I hope that I am not interfering with your plans,’ she observed coyly.
‘Not at all,’ replied Fidelma. ‘I will be back shortly, so save me some of that excellent supper.’
She left the hostel and found herself in the gloom of the courtyard.
For a few moments she walked without purpose, wondering if Esnad had some information which could add anything towards a solution of the mystery of Gleann Geis. Then she found herself retracing the route that she had taken on the previous night when she had followed Brother Solin. She had not gone far when she saw a portly figure of a woman leave the building which contained Murgal’s apartment and begin to hurry across the courtyard. The figure was easy to recognise. Fidelma quickened her step.
‘Cruinn!’
The rotund hostel-keeper paused and peered round. She recognised Fidelma within an inward hiss of her breath. She would have moved on had not Fidelma quickly moved to block her path.
‘Cruinn, why have you not come to the hostel?’ Fidelma asked reproachfully. ‘Why are you so angry with
me?’
The woman turned and scowled at her.
‘You should know the laws of hospitality, you being a dálaigh. You insulted your host by insulting his sister.’
‘That is unjust,’ Fidelma pointed out. ‘I know that Orla is well respected but I can only tell the truth. I, myself, was wrongly accused.’
‘You only escaped justice on a technical point of law,’ Cruinn returned sharply, much to Fidelma’s astonishment.
‘You seem to suddenly know much about the law, Cruinn,’ she replied. ‘Where did you learn so much?’
Even in the gloom, Fidelma saw that Cruinn looked uncomfortable for a moment.
‘I only repeat what everyone is saying. Had Artgal not been so foolish as to accept the cows then his evidence would have been proven.’
‘I did not kill Brother Solin.’
Cruinn turned away quickly.
‘I have things to do,’ she muttered. ‘But do not look for me in the hostel. There are few people here who welcome your presence now, Fidelma of Cashel. The sooner you leave Gleann Geis the better.’
The portly figure hurried away into the darkness. Fidelma watched her go with some regret. It was discouraging how people changed their attitudes because of false information and prejudice.
A door opened and a light fell across the courtyard. Fidelma saw the light came from the apothecary of Marga. Two figures were framed in the door. One was Marga and the other was Laisre. Fidelma stood bathed in the light from the doorway. Laisre’s figure stiffened as he turned in her direction. Then he bowed his head to Marga.
‘Thank you, Marga. How many times must I take the infusion?’ His voice came clearly.
‘Only once in the evening, Laisre.’
The attractive apothecary turned and closed the door, cutting off the light from the courtyard.
Laisre stepped away in the gloom which had descended towards Fidelma.
‘Well, Fidelma of Cashel,’ he greeted her heavily, ‘I have just been told by Murgal that you disobeyed my orders and left the ráth earlier.’
‘It was not an order as I recall. You stated that it was only your preference,’ Fidelma replied solemnly.
Laisre snorted angrily.
‘Do not play with words. I did not sanction you leaving the ráth.’
‘If I had not left the ráth do you think that Brother Dianach would have been any the less dead?’
‘You bring death in your wake. The ravens of death are forever fluttering over your head,’ grunted Laisre sourly.
‘Do you really think that I am responsible for the deaths that have occurred?’
Laisre made an impatient gesture.
‘All I know is that such deaths have never occurred in our community before you came. The sooner that you are gone from here the better.’
He left her abruptly and hurried away towards the council chamber.
Fidelma sighed and decided to return to the hostel. She reasoned that she had allowed enough time for Esnad to unburden herself to Eadulf and say whatever it was she had wanted to say.
She was about to open the door when it was flung open and Esnad nearly collided with her. Fidelma almost lost her footing as the young woman pushed into her and, without faltering herself, hurried off into the night.
A moment later another figure came out of the hostel.
‘Esnad! Wait!’
The figure of Rudgal hurried by without even seeing Fidelma in the shadows.
Fidelma stared after his vanishing figure with an expression of perplexity. She entered the hostel and closed the door behind her. Eadulf was seated where she had left him. The food was barely touched.
He looked up with some relief.
‘What’s happened?’ Fidelma demanded. ‘Esnad came hurrying out and nearly knocked me over. Then Rudgal came out apparently chasing after her.’
‘I’ve no idea,’ confessed Eadulf. ‘I begin to think there is a madness in this place.’
‘Why was Esnad so keen on speaking to you alone? I thought she had something of importance to tell you which might have helped us solve this puzzle.’
Eadulf shook his head.
‘She was more anxious to ask me questions about who I was,where I came from and what life was like in the land of the South Folk.’
Fidelma was disappointed.
‘Is that all?’
Eadulf became embarrassed.
‘Actually, no. She wanted to know why I was travelling with you and what our relationship was.’
Fidelma gave a mischievous grin.
‘Our relationship?’
Eadulf gestured half-heartedly.
‘You know,’ he said lamely.
Fidelma decided not to tease him further.
‘Why do you think she was asking such questions? Was there a purpose in it?’
Eadulf was perplexed.
‘None that I could see. If she was older …’
Fidelma examined him closely. There was still some humour in her eyes.
‘If she was older?’ she prompted. ‘Remember she is already beyond the age of choice now.’
Eadulf, red with embarrassment, protested.
‘She is only a child.’
‘Fourteen is the age of maturity for a girl in this land, Eadulf. A girl can be married at that age and make her own decisions.’
‘But …’
‘You felt that she was being more than simply friendly towards you?’
‘Yes, I did. To be truthful, I have noticed her wanton attitude before. Well, it is probably only infatuation,’ he ended lamely.
Fidelma could not help smiling at his discomfiture.
‘So, she could add no more pieces to our puzzle? Very well. But what was Rudgal doing here and what was the meaning of that scene just now?’
‘He came in presumably because he had promised to prepare a meal for us, knowing that Cruinn was refusing to come to the hostel.’
‘Why was he so put out with Esnad?’
‘Maybe because Esnad brought us a supper before he did. He came in and when he saw her he seemed very ill-tempered.’
‘And how did she react?’
‘I do not think that she was pleased to see him. She left immediately.’
‘And he followed,’ mused Fidelma. ‘Interesting.’
Eadulf stood up.
‘It is beyond my understanding, however, it is time we had our supper. The hour grows late and if you still have a mind to depart in search of Ibor of Muirthemne …?’
Fidelma asserted that she did.
‘In that case, let us eat and go to bed early. Who knows what tomorrow may bring.’
Chapter Sixteen
It was still dark when Fidelma awakened Eadulf and told him to get ready. She was already dressed and, while he hurriedly copied her, she went down to fill their saddle bags with the remaining food that had been left from their evening meal. When Eadulf was ready, they crept out of the hostel and across the courtyard, keeping close to the shadows away from the flickering torchlight in case a wandering guard observed them. Fidelma wanted to avoid any vigilant eye as much as possible. There was one sentinel on the walls but he seemed to be dozing.
They saddled their horses as quietly as they could and led them cautiously out of the stables.
Eadulf groaned for the clatter of their shod hooves on the flagstones was surely enough to wake the dead. It certainly woke the sentinel who had been napping on the walls. He came down the steps to stand by the open gates. Fidelma realised the hopelessness of attempting to leave without anyone realising it. The only way was to bluff it out.
‘Who is it?’ demanded the gruff, though still sleepy, voice of the guard.
‘It is Fidelma of Cashel,’ she replied, summoning a haughty tone.
‘Ha! It is not yet dawn,’ replied the sentinel, stating the obvious. ‘Why are you leaving the ráth at such an hour?’
The man spoke uncertainly, knowing who she was and wondering whether he should speak deferentially or with ho
stility.
‘Brother Eadulf and I are leaving the ráth for a short while.’
‘Does Laisre know of this, lady?’ came the warrior’s still uncertain tone.
‘Isn’t Laisre chief of Gleann Geis and surely he knows everything which stirs within his own ráth?’ she countered, trying hard to steer a cautious path between not telling an outright lie and making an implication which would satisfy the man.
The sentinel’s voice was aggrieved.
‘Do not blame me, lady, for my ignorance. No one has informed me of your leaving.’
‘I am now informing you.’ Fidelma tried to sound irritable. ‘Stand aside and let us pass. Should any inquire, we shall soon be back.’
Hesitantly the sentinel stood aside and Fidelma and Eadulf trotted through the open gates through into the darkness.
It was not until they were some way from the ráth and moving swiftly along the valley road towards the ravine which provided the exit from Gleann Geis that Eadulf allowed himself to exhale noisily in relief.
‘Was that wise, Fidelma? To imply that you had Laisre’s permission will only deepen the chieftain’s anger when we return.’
‘Wisdom rises upon the ruins of folly,’ grinned Fidelma in the darkness. ‘I told the man no lie. And we shall be back as soon as possible.’
There were grey streaks in the sky by the time that they reached the grim granite statue of the god Lugh of the Long Hand which marked the entrance to the valley. It looked strange and frightening in the grey half-light as they rode past. Eadulf crossed himself nervously at its towering image but Fidelma laughed gaily.
‘Didn’t I tell you that the ancients saw Lugh as a god of light, a solar deity. You should not fear him for he was a good god.’
‘How can you be so calm about such frightening wraiths?’ protested Eadulf. ‘Antler-headed gods with serpents in their hands!’ He shivered violently.
‘Didn’t your people worship such gods before they converted to Christianity?’ asked Fidelma.
‘None with antlers from their heads,’ vowed Eadulf.
They reached the entrance of the gorge and started through its narrow rocky passage.
‘Who passes?’ cried a voice from high above them.
Fidelma groaned inwardly. She had forgotten the sentinels who guarded the gorge. However, what had worked once would doubtless work again.
Valley of the Shadow sf-6 Page 24