The Second Death (Sister Fidelma Mysteries)

by Peter Tremayne

  ‘How did you know?’ Fidelma enquired.

  ‘I was standing nearby when he asked Baodain if he could join us as he was alone and travelling on the road to Cashel. Baodain told him to follow the last wagon in the line, which was, of course, our wagon.’

  ‘But the “boy” was drunk?’

  ‘His speech was very thick and indistinct. He stood unsteadily, and I noticed that he seemed to be breathing very heavily.’

  ‘Did you speak to – him er, her?’

  Comal shook her head and Ronchú added: ‘No one did. Now Comal reminds me, he was afflicted with some breathing problem. He did not say much – in fact, he seemed incapable of saying much. I saw him run his tongue around his lips several times as if they were dry, and he kept sipping at a goatskin water bag on the wagon seat.’

  ‘So no one really had any conversation with the newcomer, apart from Baodain?’

  ‘That is correct.’

  ‘So you set off along the Cashel road and the girl followed?’

  ‘That’s right – and we proceeded on for some distance,’ agreed Ronchú.

  ‘And then I started to hear a crackling sound,’ the girl said. ‘You know, the sort that dry wood makes when it is alight? It was that sound.’

  ‘What did you do? Take me through it slowly.’

  ‘Well, I heard it from behind and so I turned. I saw the smoke and flames from the wagon that had recently joined us, but I could not see the driver. I yelled to Ronchú to halt our wagon and reached for the horn that we all carry in case of emergencies. The wagons all stopped and I held the reins while Ronchú jumped off and took our bucket to find water. He was soon joined by others.’

  ‘This is so, lady,’ confirmed Ronchú. ‘We always carry buckets on the side of our wagons and there was a small stream alongside the road. So I filled it and hastened back … others were joining me.’

  ‘On which side of the wagon was the stream?’ Fidelma knew, already but wanted to make sure of Ronchú’s position.

  ‘On the left-hand side, lady.’

  ‘And when was the body of the driver noticed? She would have been lying almost level with your rear right-hand wheel.’

  ‘Baodain came running by and shouted out that the driver was overcome with fumes. Everyone’s first concern was to put out the flames because fires can spread on the wind and travel from wagon to wagon.’

  ‘So you went to help the driver?’

  ‘Not immediately. I had to calm our two asses that were pulling the wagon. The oxen behind me were uneasy, and before my team were two very skittish horses.’

  ‘Before?’ Fidelma was puzzled.

  ‘I mean the horses attached to the rear of the wagon in front of me. That was Echdae’s wagon,’ Comal said, as if that explained matters.

  ‘Why would his horses be in front of you at the back of his wagon and not pulling it from the front?’

  ‘Echdae and his wife, Echna, are bareback riders and performers and they have two good horses which are hitched to the back of the wagon when we are travelling. They don’t use those beasts to pull the wagon. A moment passed before Echna took charge of the horses while Echdae and Tóla, their groom, ran back to help douse the flames.’

  ‘When did you go to help the driver?’ The question was put to Comal.

  She paused to think. ‘I suppose it was as soon as the asses were under control and Echna had calmed the horses.’

  ‘So, Ronchú,’ Fidelma turned to the conjuror, ‘you were the first to throw water on the fire. What happened?’

  ‘What happened?’ The man looked bemused, as if he did not understand the question. Then his face lightened. ‘Oh, yes. When the water hit the burning material, it was not extinguished. I have encountered that material before – I think it is called picc or tar – and realised that we had to smother the flames using sodden rags or beat it with birch-twig brooms. It was not a great fire; otherwise there would have been little hope.’

  Fidelma summed up: ‘As far as you were both concerned, then, the fire you had to deal with was an accident?’

  ‘What else would it have been?’ asked Ronchú, perplexed. ‘As Comal says, it did not take long to extinguish the flames.’

  At that moment, Aidan came hurrying towards them.

  ‘Lady, one of the performers has fled from the encampment.’

  Fidelma whirled around. ‘Fled? Do you know who?’

  ‘It is a man called Tóla. One of my men spotted him riding away on horseback and leading a second horse. He was gone before my man could stop him.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Tóla was a small man whose deceptively slender frame carried well developed muscles and strong hands. He was of middle age, with dark hair and eyes that glowered at them all from under bushy eyebrows. His skin was tanned by a life lived mainly out of doors, but the darkness of his skin threw into relief a white scar that ran from the corner of one eye down to his thin-lipped mouth. He stood before Fidelma and Eadulf, with Aidan and two of his men guarding him from behind. Another warrior was holding the reins of two horses – the mounts that Tóla had been riding.

  ‘You thought I was running away?’ His voice was sneering. ‘Your guards are idiots.’

  ‘You had taken both horses – fast horses,’ Eadulf pointed out, ‘and were galloping away from the township. Our warriors had difficulty catching up with you before they forced you to return here.’

  ‘Idiots,’ the man repeated.

  ‘Then where were you going?’ Fidelma demanded. ‘We are still waiting for an explanation.’

  ‘I am an echaire – a horse groom,’ the man said, as if it was the complete explanation.

  ‘And so?’ pressed Fidelma.

  ‘I look after the horses of Echdae and Echna. Do you think such thoroughbreds as they use in their performance can exercise themselves?’

  Fidelma’s mouth tightened. ‘So you are telling us that you took the two horses just to exercise them! Why didn’t you seek permission from the guards to do so?’

  The man gave a snort of indignation. ‘Why should I? Do they not know that horses need exercise? Since we arrived last night, they have had none – the need was obvious.’

  ‘We have given instruction that no one was to leave this site until our investigation was completed. Harm could have come to you for disobeying.’

  ‘The time will never come when I will be told when and where I should exercise the beasts in my care!’ Tóla proclaimed. ‘I know all about horses – could have been a Master of Horses in some noble’s stables instead of …’ He glanced with a sneer towards the wagons on the eastern side of the town square. ‘Anyway, animals’ needs are more important than the whim of humans.’

  ‘You might know horses, Tóla,’ said Eadulf, ‘but you do not seem to understand that when you are given orders by the dálaigh, you must obey them, or at least seek permission if you need to do otherwise.’

  Two people were hurrying towards them from the encampment. Aidan went to stop them but Fidelma called to him to let them through. They were a young couple, moving with the agility of athletes. They both had light brown hair and tanned skin. Their expressions were worried as they approached. Fidelma had guessed that they were the owners of the horses.

  ‘We saw the warriors escorting Tóla and our horses back here,’ the girl began breathlessly. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Before Fidelma could reply, Tóla blurted out: ‘These idiots thought that I was running away with the horses.’

  ‘Your echaire rode off from the encampment without seeking permission,’ Fidelma said sternly before they could protest. ‘You were clearly told that no one was to leave the encampment until I said so.’

  The young man called Echdae frowned. ‘But the horses needed exercise. They are not cart horses, you know. They are thoroughbred beasts who have to be treated with care.’

  ‘That’s just what I told them,’ chimed in Tóla.

  ‘That is not the point,’ Fidelma said coldly. ‘Had permission been a
sked, it would have been granted. But the point is that when a dálaigh gives an order, it is expected that it will be obeyed. In this case we are investigating two murders. Disobedience could have led to someone coming to harm unnecessarily.’

  ‘Murders?’ Echdae looked surprised.

  The girl seemed to recover from the news first. ‘I am Echna, lady. I am sure it was just a misunderstanding.’ She had adopted a coaxing tone.

  There was annoyance on Tóla’s face. Obviously he felt there was no need for apology for his actions.

  ‘The horses can be exercised in arrangement with the guard and follow a set course,’ Fidelma conceded. ‘Similarly, any other requests that involve leaving the encampment before you have formal permission to do so must be sought no matter what the circumstances. Is that clear?’

  ‘And next time, when a dálaigh gives an order, it is worth your while to obey it unless you wish to face a fine,’ Aidan added severely.

  Echdae bowed his head. ‘It won’t happen again, but the horses have to be kept in good condition for our performance.’

  Tóla was already moving away, but Fidelma recalled him, saying, ‘Before you leave, I have a few questions for you three.’

  Aidan had stepped forward to block the groom’s path and the man reluctantly turned back.

  ‘A few questions, that’s all,’ Fidelma repeated. ‘It seems your part in the Baodain’s Performers is that of feats of equestrianism?’

  ‘That is so, lady,’ Echna responded. ‘We are bareback riders and perform acrobatic feats while the horses are in motion, dismounting and mounting while they are at the gallop as well as similar feats.’

  ‘And your wagon was in front of Ronchú’s when the fire in the stranger’s rear wagon began?’

  ‘That is so. Comal gave a blast on her horn,’ Echdae said. ‘Tóla here peered back and saw the smoke. He shouted “Fire!” and leaped down and ran back. I left the reins with Echna and jumped down from my side, grabbing the bucket we carried, and joined Ronchú who had already started to throw water on the fire. However, the material from which the fire started was something like picc – the stuff made from pine resin and beeswax. At least, that’s what I thought it was. Water had little effect, so I snatched up a broom and was beating at the flames when others came up and followed my example.’

  Fidelma turned to Tóla. ‘So you leaped down from the right side of the wagon and ran back?’

  The little man shrugged indifferently. ‘It happened very fast. I suppose I did.’

  ‘And you saw the body of the driver as you ran by the back wheel of Ronchú’s wagon?’

  ‘I could not miss it. The boy … well, I am told now it was a girl … was stretched out by the wheel. As there was a great deal of smoke, I presumed that he – she – had been overcome with it and collapsed. The clothes were still smouldering.’

  ‘You did not pause to see if you could help her?’

  ‘No, I did not. My thought was to save the two oxen that were yoked to the wagon. I was unhitching them when Baodain came to help me draw them away, out of immediate danger. I told you that animals are my prime concern.’

  ‘So you did,’ agreed Fidelma gently. ‘And what of your own horses?’

  It was Echna who answered. ‘The animals pulling our wagon were calm enough and so I went to quieten down our thoroughbreds, which were skittish, smelling fire and hearing the alarms.’

  ‘So the fire was soon put out. But no one had thought to attend to the driver until that task was accomplished and Eadulf, here, and Aidan rode up. Is that so?’

  ‘It happened so fast,’ Tóla replied thoughtfully. ‘There was obviously no time to attend to the driver until we had made sure that the fire was not spreading.’

  ‘Comal must have looked after her.’ Again it was Echna who spoke. ‘I thought Comal had seen her running away from the wagon before collapsing and that she had dismounted and examined her before calling our attention to the fire.’

  Fidelma exchanged a quick glance with Eadulf.

  ‘You mean, before she blew on her horn to alert you?’ queried Eadulf.

  ‘It happened so quickly, but I just happened to glance round and saw her climbing back onto her wagon before she blew the warning on her horn.’

  ‘Very well, you may return to your wagons,’ Fidelma said after some moments of thought. ‘Tóla, you may continue to exercise the horses, but …’ and she glanced to Aidan ‘… one of the warriors will ride with you just to make sure you are safe at all times.’

  When she and Eadulf were left alone with Aidan, Fidelma looked troubled. ‘I confess that I think this mystery is one that is going to sorely try me,’ she admitted. ‘A man and a girl are poisoned. The man dies and the girl drives on with his dead body in her wagon before she succumbs to the poison at the same time as her wagon catches fire. Everyone tries to assure me that the solution must be that she did it herself. But why? And why was she making for Cashel?’

  ‘And why was the girl disguised as a boy?’ Eadulf reminded them. ‘Also, why was she driving a wagon inside which there was a dead man, possibly a priest – who had been dead several days? There are too many questions, and none of it makes sense.’

  ‘It is illogical,’ Aidan conceded. ‘Maybe there was someone else hiding in the coach who did this.’

  Fidelma said, ‘As I told Eschrach, according to Eadulf and yourself, the doors of the carriage were secured from the outside.’

  Aidan shuddered. ‘Maybe someone could pass through closed doors. It is told by the ancients that once there fell into mortal hands a cloak of invisibility and—’

  ‘We have no case of dícheltair here,’ Fidelma interrupted brusquely. ‘There are no incorporeal beings involved with this matter; just as I am certain that the girl herself did not cause the fire. Before we can pursue that matter with confidence, we have much more to do. Before anything further, I suggest we go and thoroughly examine the wagon.’

  ‘After the bodies were taken to Brother Conchobhar’s apothecary, I had it removed to a barn at the back of Rumann’s tavern and placed under guard,’ Aidan said. ‘I knew Rumann had an empty barn where it would be safe, and the oxen are in a field at the back of it. I put one of my men there and had him relieved every two hours through the night and day.’

  Fidelma did not mention that Eadulf had already explained this.

  Rumann’s tavern was on the western side of the town’s large square. It was a licensed bruden whose premises were strictly vetted and governed by the laws administered by a specialist Brehon because it was a large complex, not merely selling drinks and food but offering beds for visitors as well. Next to it was a large brewery, and it was here that Rumann made his ales and stronger beverages. At the back of the complex were stables, barns and fields, all sheltering under the great limestone rock on which the fortress of the Kings of Muman stood, dominating the plains in every direction.

  Rumann had observed them coming and met them at the door of the tavern. ‘It seems that the only time I welcome you to my tavern, lady, is when a body is discovered or there is a mystery to solve,’ he said with a wry smile.

  It was only a month or so ago that the body of a visiting religieuse, Sister Dianaimh, had been discovered in one of the vats in his adjacent brewery.

  ‘I am glad that this visit is not as traumatic as my last one, Rumann,’ Fidelma replied solemnly. ‘How are you? And how is your little boy?’

  ‘We are both well, lady,’ the innkeeper told her. ‘Already our business progresses in anticipation of the Great Fair. Many visitors have started to flock to the town although there is some alarm about the stories surrounding Baodain’s troupe of performers.’

  ‘There should be nothing for anyone here to be alarmed about,’ she said. ‘But I agree that the sooner we can resolve the matter, so much the better.’

  ‘Indeed, lady. The Great Fair is barely a week away and we would not want any blight to cast itself over it.’

  ‘Then let us examine the stranger’
s wagon.’

  ‘Will you need to keep it here long, lady?’ asked the man anxiously. ‘Once the visitors start to come in greater numbers, I will require the space as well as the fields for their horses and mules.’

  ‘We will try not to inconvenience you for long, Rumann. Do not worry.’

  The innkeeper glanced dubiously across the square towards Baodain’s encampment.

  ‘I saw there was some trouble there a short while ago,’ he fretted. ‘It is unsettling to my guests and to my business …’

  ‘I understand, Rumann,’ she said patiently, ‘but my brother’s warriors are there to keep the peace. So the sooner I can accomplish my task, the sooner we can return to normal.’

  Rumann took the hint and turned to lead them through the tavern and out of a back door, across a yard and into one of the barns there. The main doors of the barn were open and a warrior was lounging on a bale of hay enjoying the sunshine. He heard them entering and leaped nervously to his feet.

  Fidelma ignored him; her eyes were on the wagon. It appeared as Eadulf had described it to her. It stood on four great wheels; each wheel had six spokes and was rimmed in iron. She estimated the diameter to be over four troighíd – well over a metre and a half. The roof was slightly curved so that any rain would run off on either side of the wagon, which had a door with a window on both sides and two windows, one each side of the doors, making six windows in all. She noticed, however, that all of them had been covered from the inside with thick hide or wood.

  It was a sturdily built wagon, that was for sure, but much discoloured with dirt; while in the front there were streaks of soot and a few scorch-marks. She inspected the conveyance closely and saw that the entire wooden panelling had once been polished and that there were indistinct patterns on it. She walked to the front of the vehicle and noticed the single síthbe, a pole or shaft that ran between any two horses or oxen that would be harnessed on both sides of it. She bent closer and noticed that it was made of a hard wood – it looked like tough holly. Immediately before the box-like interior was a small area where the driver would sit. There was room on the bench for three people. This was covered on top and extended to the sides, affording the driver the maximum protection from the elements. The reins were made of leather and the metalwork was of bronze. It had fairly elaborate patterning to it, and it was clear that the wagon’s accoutrements, if not the wagon itself, had once been owned by someone of wealth.