‘Perhaps he has changed his mind?’
‘I don’t think so, lady,’ replied the warrior. ‘Tuaim Snámh is a very superstitious man.’
Fidelma frowned. ‘I fail to see the connection.’
‘The stories go that the hill on which the abbey now stands was a great centre of the Old Faith; it is where the last Druidic priests of the Five Kingdoms retreated when the New Faith gained ascendancy over them. It became the dwelling place of the last Chief Druid of the Five Kingdoms.’
‘I didn’t know that.’ Fidelma was intrigued.
‘I heard the stories from my uncle’s wife. She came from the vicinity of this settlement many years ago and was of the clan of Máil.’
‘What reason would the Prince of Osraige have to avoid this place as a capital?’ asked Fidelma. ‘The Old Religion was once found everywhere in these kingdoms. It is scarcely more than two centuries since the High King Laoghaire accepted the New Faith, and other kings and princes followed his example. It has taken time to replace the Old Faith, but there are no ancient sites that people shun because of it. There are even some places in the west where you will find people who have still not accepted the New Faith, and other places where the two faiths exist side by side.’
‘You are right, lady. But as I said, it was that hill that the Chief Druid of the Five Kingdoms made his last bastion, surrounded by his followers. That was when Cainnech came here to convert the people to the New Faith. Cainnech’s method was to arrive with an army and slaughter all the Druids and their followers. He then declared the place Christian and built a church on the very hill where the last Chief Druid and his followers were murdered in their sanctuary.’
Fidelma was surprised by the story for she had always been taught that the change to the New Faith had been a relatively peaceful transition.
‘This Cainnech sounds more like an intolerant warrior than a saintly man,’ she remarked.
‘He was of the Corco Dálainn, raised on a little island off Port Lairge,’ Enda replied. ‘I know he studied at Cluain Ard, went to one of the kingdoms of the Britons and then to Rome, and even to Iona before returning here. So if travelling is learning, then he was a man of much learning.’
‘When did all this happen?’ Fidelma was appalled. ‘When was this slaughter of the people of the Old Faith?’
‘Little more than seventy years ago,’ Enda replied after a moment of thought. ‘The picturesque settlement you see before you was once awash with blood and consumed by fire.’
‘Only seventy years ago? I thought we prided ourselves that our kingdoms had accepted the New Faith without forcing it on the people by fire and sword,’ Fidelma muttered. ‘This is a very sad history.’
‘Well, it is the only instance that I know of such a slaughter,’ Enda replied. ‘Now it seems almost forgotten and Cainnech’s reputation appears to have been restored. His main foundation is in the north of Osraige, at the Field of the Ox. I don’t think you’ll find many people around here who have cause to remember him fondly nor the slaughter that he brought here.’
‘That is not our concern anyway,’ Fidelma said firmly. ‘We are investigating a more modern slaughter. We must see if we can find some trace of the movement through here of the strange wagon.’
She nudged the flanks of Aonbharr and the stallion ambled carefully down the hill towards the settlement by the river bank, closely followed by Aidan and Enda.
The late-afternoon sunshine dappled the hills which soon gave way to fenland to the north and to cultivated fields to the south. They moved through pink meadowland, the colour made by the finger-long, delicate pink petals of flowers which had just started to blossom in abundance. Fidelma had always thought they were very pretty, but local tradition said that it was bad luck to pick them and especially to take them into the house. They were called lus sioda and she found herself wondering what Eadulf would call them. He had taught her much of his language and the names of many plants and animals.
In spite of her outward control, Fidelma was desperate about him. Where was he? Had he been badly injured at the deserted farm? Was he still a prisoner? Why had he been made captive – and by whom? Had he escaped? Was he wandering the marshlands? Above all, was he safe?
At that moment, Aidan went to say something to her and then turned away in embarrassment.
‘What’s wrong?’ she snapped.
He coughed awkwardly. ‘Lady, your eyes are watering.’
She put a hand to her eyes. Tears were running down her cheeks.
‘Something must have flown into my eye,’ she explained tersely.
Aidan was too wise to make a further comment. She had been crying silently without even knowing it.
It seemed to Eadulf that a lot had happened in a comparatively short space of time. His first concern, after he had seen that Rechtabra was beyond all human aid, was to calm the hysterical girl, and in this he was helped by the little terrier who came to her side, snuffling and licking at her hand. It was clear that the dog had been fearful of the farmer and somehow realised that his mistress had sought to protect them both. Eadulf had found some corma, the distilled barley drink, and made Ríonach swallow several mouthfuls. This seemed to calm her a little.
Eadulf led her, with the little terrier at his heels, into the adjoining room, which was a bedroom, and told her to lie down and rest for a while.
‘You will not leave me alone?’ she begged.
He was reassuring. ‘No. I have a few things to do, that’s all. I’ll just be outside, and I won’t be long.’
The task he turned himself to was to remove the battered corpse of the farmer from the room. As he knelt beside the man, the first thing he noticed was that, around the man’s left wrist was the same piece of hemp from which dangled a small shiny disc that had the familiar bird image on it – a raven. Carefully he untied it and put it on the table before he made a search of the man’s clothing. Then, heaving Rechtabra into a sitting position on the floor, he knelt behind him, put his arms under the man’s armpits, crossing them and grasping his hands across the chest, then pulled himself upright. Walking backwards in this fashion, he dragged the dead farmer through the door and out of the house. There was only one thing he could think of doing with the body for the time being. He heaved it along the path to the tiny stone shed where he himself had briefly been imprisoned. Panting, he pushed the body inside and secured the door.
Returning to the house, he saw spattered all over blood the wooden boards of the floor and up one of the table legs. Taking a jug of water, he washed the gore away. When he’d finished, he stood in the main room of the farmhouse and peered about to check that all was once more in order. His eyes fell on Rechtabra’s bracelet. It was the same mysterious brass disc and raven emblem that the poisoned girl in the wagon had worn; the same as his captive had worn when killed in the marsh. The symbol meant something which had caused Ríonach to tremble in fear.
Time was passing quickly and he could not afford to wait long before moving on. He was about to see if the girl was all right when the bedroom door opened and she emerged, red-eyed but now calmer. The little terrier was still at her heels. She glanced quickly around, as if looking for the body of her husband and then sighed.
‘I wasn’t sure if you had gone,’ she said.
‘I promised that I would be here,’ Eadulf replied with an encouraging smile.
He crossed to the cupboard and poured another drink of corma, for them both this time because he felt the need of a stimulant.
‘Are you feeling more able to deal with things?’ he asked gently.
She nodded as she sat down at the table. ‘What will happen to me?’ she asked in a helpless voice.
‘Happen?’
‘I killed Rechtabra.’
‘You did it to save my life. Indeed, from what I heard of his threat he was going to turn on you, so you did it in self-defence. Tell me, does Rechtabra have any kin locally?’
She shook her head. ‘His family were wiped out
during the Yellow Plague some years ago.’
‘And your own family?’
‘I told you that I have none now.’
‘Then this would be your farm now?’
‘I am not even sure that Rechtabra owned this farm. He paid tribute to the Lord of the Marshes. Anyway, I wouldn’t want to stay here after … after …’ she ended brokenly, close to losing her composure.
‘But there must be someone you can go to for help?’
‘I told you before that there is no one.’
‘Tell me about this Lord of the Marshes. Is his name Coileach of the Red Hill?’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Rechtabra did not seem to have a very high opinion of him. He said he was dead.’
‘I’ve heard him curse him many times,’ replied the girl. ‘There is a rumour that he is dead.’
‘So who is this “lord” that your husband worked for? The one for whom he and his friend captured and tried to kill me?’
‘I am not sure. He was always boasting of some great lord who would protect him.’
Eadulf held out his wrist with the brass disc on it. ‘When you saw this, you started to tremble with fear. Your husband wore a similar wristband. I picked this one up from the dead body of your husband’s companion. You need not fear it now. I just want to know what it signifies.’
Ríonach hesitated, then seemed to summon courage from somewhere. ‘It is the symbol of the Coitreb na Bhran.’
Eadulf paused for a moment, translating it into his own language. ‘The Fellowship of the Raven: what is that?’
‘I do not know exactly, except that they frighten me. Rechtabra knew several men who belong to it. They recognise one another by that symbol. There is one man in particular who sometimes came here; he sometimes did work on the farm.’
‘What sort of man was he?’
‘His voice was whining, almost like a child. I did not trust him.’
Eadulf gave a quick description of the man that he had found in the bog.
‘I cannot be sure. I was never told his name but he came from the west.’
‘What did he do?’
‘Most of the time he was working on local farms, hiring himself out as a day labourer. When he worked here, Rechtabra told me not to leave the house. Occasionally, he also came at night. I know this because I heard his voice but did not see him. Rechtabra would disappear with him. I know nothing except that they both wore that disc, for I saw him once. When Rechtabra was in his cups he talked of this lord who was their master.’ The word she used was coimdiu and Eadulf knew it was usually reserved for a religious context rather than one like muiredach, which meant a lord or master in terms of proprietorship or rank.
‘Did he use that exact word?’ Eadulf pressed, interested.
The girl confirmed it with a quick movement of her head.
Eadulf was thoughtful. ‘Was your husband concerned with any religious group, then?’
‘I would have said that religion was the last thing he cared about,’ she replied flatly.
‘But this Coitreb na Bhran …’
‘I thought it was some hunting fraternity because his friends always came at night. They would all leave and stay out until daybreak. Rechtabra never returned with game, so I do not know what they hunted.’
‘I don’t suppose that you ever asked Rechtabra where they went during the night.’
The girl gave a shaky snort of derision. ‘Not if I valued my life,’ she said. ‘I was not allowed to even mention it.’
Eadulf sat silently for a while deep in thought. He had been mistaken for someone else, obviously the dead religieux in the wagon. He had been captured by Rechtabra and his companion, who were both working for some mysterious ‘lord’, or as the girl now indicated ‘a religious lord’. What could be the purpose of this Fellowship of the Raven? Why was the same symbol borne on the wrist of the dead girl of the mysterious wagon?
At the behest of this mysterious ‘lord’, Rechtabra had been ordered to slaughter his companion and bury him in the marsh, simply because he had failed to carry out this ‘lord’s’ instruction to kill Eadulf. And Rechtabra would also have killed him, had it not been for this brave girl, Ríonach. Those were the facts – but what did they mean when put together? Eadulf had no idea.
‘What do you intend to do?’ The girl’s anxious voice penetrated his thoughts.
Eadulf glanced across at her with a smile of encouragement. ‘Well, one thing is certain; you cannot be left here on your own.’
She sniffed. ‘Neither can I leave. There are the cows and the pigs and some poultry to be attended to.’
Eadulf groaned inwardly. He had forgotten that, apart from anything else, this was still a working farm.
‘Are there no neighbours near you?’
‘No one that is trustworthy,’ replied the girl with a shudder. She gave no other explanation and Eadulf did not ask her for one. He suspected that he knew what the girl meant.
‘Is there no local Brehon?’ he tried. ‘You husband said that there was, when he was pretending to be helpful to me.’
‘Coileach, the Lord of the Marshes, no doubt had a Brehon serving him. I suppose there must be a Brehon at Cill Cainnech.’
Another thought came to Eadulf. ‘You mentioned a hermit who had been a friend of your mother.’
‘Brother Finnsnechta?’
‘You said that he had become a hermit in the hills.’
The girl nodded. ‘He lives among the trees on the lower slopes of the Mountains of the High Fields.’
‘Is that far?’
‘It is nearly a day’s walk or more from here on the way south.’
‘Do you trust him?’
‘I told you before – Rechtabra said that he, being of the New Faith, would surely send me back to him.’ She paused and swallowed, remembering that much had happened since then. She no longer had a husband to be sent back to.
‘It’s a long way to travel and leave these farm animals unattended,’ Eadulf reflected.
The girl had a further thought. ‘There is a shepherd and his family who live nearby, and they never had much to do with Rechtabra. That shepherd and his sons might be persuaded to look after the livestock. But I do not want to remain alone here.’
‘I have given you my word that I shall not leave you,’ Eadulf promised her. The day was darkening. They would have to remain at the farmstead that night.
Just then, the mournful lowing of a cow came from the distance, and Ríonach looked up, startled. ‘The cows haven’t been milked today,’ she remembered guiltily. ‘With everything that has been happening, I have neglected the milking.’
The sound galvanised Eadulf into action. He stood up. ‘Then you had better attend to that, while I feed your pigs and the poultry. It will be dusk soon.’
The girl glanced round anxiously. ‘Where … where is …?’
‘Don’t open the door of the little stone hut from which you rescued me,’ he replied, knowing what question was in her mind. She answered with a nod and took a wooden bucket from a corner of the kitchen. She still appeared hesitant.
‘You won’t … you won’t …’ she stumbled, and he gave her a kindly smile.
‘I said that I shall not leave without you,’ he assured her gently. ‘You have my word.’
She looked at him anxiously for a moment before accepting his vow. Then she opened the door and moved off in the direction of the lowing cow, with the little terrier trotting at her heels, wagging its tail.
Eadulf watched her go and then he raised both arms and let them fall to his side in an expression of mock hopelessness. There was no way they could abandon the livestock for the time it would take to walk to find this Brother Finnsnechta – and even if they found him immediately – after that, what then? He needed to find someone to take care of the farmstead. He hoped the girl was right about the shepherd and his sons. Eadulf knew that conditions would deteriorate quickly unless the livestock were regularly attended to. A curse forme
d in his throat – until he remembered that he was supposed to be a religieux.
He went out around the farmstead and checked a fenced area where two pigs seemed to be snuffling contentedly at a pile of rotting apples. He made sure there was enough to hand. The distribution of grain for the chickens was also a simple matter. He then decided to look around the farmstead before the light faded entirely. It was a long time since he had done any work on a farm, not since he had helped on his father’s farm along the banks of the Fromus, the river that passed Seaxmund’s Ham in the Land of the South Folk where he and Egric … He caught himself, remembering his brother, and clenched his teeth. Egric was dead. He was alive and had to get on with resolving how he was going to stay alive.
He had to find Fidelma and his companions. That was his first priority. If he could not do that, he must obtain a horse and make for Cashel to seek help from Colgú, although, he did not particularly look forward to facing Fidelma’s brother with such bad news.
There seemed no other livestock except for the cows. It was mostly grain crops that Rechtabra had raised on the fields that ran to the east of his farmstead on the slightly higher ground that bordered the marshlands. Having contented himself that he had not overlooked anything that needed attention, Eadulf was returning to the house when he saw the girl approaching from the stream. She was bearing a half-empty bucket and carrying something in a fold of her skirt. The little terrier ambled happily at her heels.
‘I put some of the milk in a stone jug and then placed it in the stream to keep it cool,’ she told him. ‘Also, I’ve found some fungi. We can have a proper meal.’ She showed him a little pile in the fold of her skirt.
‘Are you sure they are edible?’ he asked anxiously. ‘It is surely too early in the year.’
She actually laughed. ‘There’s beech trees the other side of the stream and I found several oyster mushrooms growing there. Don’t worry, they are quite good at this time. I’ve had them before.’
They turned back to the house as the day was getting chilly.
‘We’ll have a meal and sort out what best we can do,’ Eadulf announced, as he bent to stir the grey ashes of the fire into bright sparks and added some twigs to provide kindling before placing the first log.
The Second Death (Sister Fidelma Mysteries) Page 18