The Second Death (Sister Fidelma Mysteries)

by Peter Tremayne

  ‘I was unable to sleep and decided to get up and have a look round. I saw the guards were at their posts in the courtyard outside.’

  Feradach added: ‘The Abbot approached our guard-post well before first light. He asked me if all was secure. I answered that we had not heard a sound and that all was quiet.’

  ‘Yet I was not reassured,’ confessed the Abbot. ‘I felt something was happening but could not understand what. Something drew me to the chapel. As I paused outside the door, I saw a light flickering in the interior.’

  ‘Did you call the guard?’ asked Aidan.

  The Abbot gave a quick shake of his head. ‘Foolishly, I did not. I opened the door, stepped in and saw Ultan standing against the holy altar with a metal bar in his hand. It was one of those bars with a sharpened end that builders sometimes use or farmers use for digging out reluctant tree roots. What I could not believe was that the man was trying to shift the plinth of the altar. I was outraged.’

  Fidelma was puzzled. ‘You mean he was trying to destroy the altar or that he was trying to move it?’

  ‘I presumed that he was trying to destroy it.’

  ‘Why? He had claimed to be looking for some documents written by Cainnech. Did he have cause to believe that they were under the altar? You believed he was trying to find the abbey’s treasure. So what use would the destruction of the altar be?’

  ‘He must have been looking for the treasure,’ declared the Abbot. ‘There was nothing else. He was probably misled.’

  ‘So what did you do, having thus confronted him in this act?’

  ‘I demanded to know what sacrilege he was about, disturbing God’s holy altar. Then the next thing I knew, there was a blow across my shoulders that sent me flying. I landed on the stone floor. I did not pass out entirely because I heard the man whisper, “Leave him to me. Get the wagon ready.” I remember the words very distinctly but I did not see to whom they were addressed. I presume they were to the girl. She must have been hiding behind the door with a cudgel or some heavy stick.’

  ‘Go on,’ pressed Fidelma, when he paused.

  ‘There is little else to tell. I was barely conscious and trying to get to my hands and knees when I felt a cord around my neck. I struggled, but had no breath to cry out. I knew I was being strangled. Then all went black. The next thing I remember, I was waking in my chamber with one of the brethren bathing my face. There was a blinding light. In fact, it was daylight. I was still alive and had been unconscious for some time. I could not speak from the constriction in my throat. I was told that Brother Failge had gone with Feradach and his warriors to track down the culprits. When they returned that evening, they said they had lost their trail. As I could hardly speak, Brother Failge brought me a wax tablet and stylus; he asked me questions and I wrote down the answers.’

  Brother Failge took up the story. ‘I think it is clear what happened. The man had made one last attempt with his companion to find the treasure and was searching the chapel, believing it to be there, but was discovered by the Abbot. The girl knocked him down while her companion tried to strangle him. They then both fled empty-handed.’

  ‘Why didn’t the guards stop them leaving?’ Fidelma asked.

  ‘It was only after this event that we decided to have more than a few guards,’ Brother Failge explained.

  ‘It seems the thieves had prepared their wagon the previous night, ostensibly to leave in accordance with my wishes,’ the Abbot said. ‘So it was standing ready for the oxen to be yoked. After the attack, the man and girl slipped out of the side door in the chapel and along to the rear of the stables, and left in the darkness.’

  ‘It was when I went to the chapel at first light that I found the Abbot, unconscious and barely alive.’ Brother Failge took up the story. ‘I had him taken to his chamber and attended by our apothecary before I went to fetch Feradach. We searched the abbey, but the man and girl had gone, together with the wagon and team of oxen. It was clear who was responsible.’

  ‘I alerted my men and we chased after them,’ Feradach said sombrely. ‘I was sure that we would overtake them quite easily. You cannot travel fast in an ox-wagon. But they seemed to disappear into the air itself.’

  ‘Which way did you go?’

  ‘I split my men up, as there were several ways they could have gone. We did find some tracks heading for the western mountains, but after a while we lost them.’

  ‘So you returned empty-handed that evening,’ concluded Fidelma. ‘The couple and their wagon had disappeared entirely?’

  ‘As if they had been swallowed up in the marsh,’ confirmed Feradach.

  Fidelma sat back with a deep sigh. ‘This presents more questions than it does answers.’

  ‘Such as?’ Brother Failge wanted to know.

  ‘Why were they trying to remove the altar slab when I think they would have been well aware that Feradach and his warriors were on guard outside the building in the courtyard? Logic would have told them loud and clear that that was where the treasure was kept. That is, if the treasure was what they wanted. Why try to kill the Abbot, after he was rendered incapable, and then flee the abbey? And an ox-wagon is neither the most silent means of transport in which to escape, nor is it the fastest. One cannot get very far in an ox-drawn wagon if there are mounted warriors in pursuit! So how did they disappear? And where did they hide?’

  ‘You raise some good points, lady,’ Feradach said. ‘But what else could these people be after, other than the treasure? There is nothing else of value here.’

  ‘Perhaps you are right,’ she said. ‘Still, this raises one more sinister mystery that we must look into.’

  ‘Sinister mystery?’ repeated the Abbot, looking apprehensive.

  ‘The man called Ultan and his companion Ultana left the abbey in the wagon. They were last seen to be fit and well, fleeing towards the Mountains of the High Fields or the great marshlands beyond. Would you agree that this is a fair assessment?’

  ‘After I was attacked, I was in no condition to observe anything,’ Abbot Saran replied distantly.

  ‘My men believed the tracks of the wagon went westward – that is all,’ confirmed Feradach. ‘Then those tracks disappeared. It seems obvious they reached some shelter. Why do you think this is sinister?’

  ‘Because in the day or so after leaving here, the man called Ultan was dead. He had died from poison. The girl Ultana had also been poisoned but she lasted a few more days than the man. The wagon had been in the marshes and then emerged on the marsh road to Cashel, where Ultana joined the Cleasamnaig Baodain, whose wagons were travelling to the Great Fair at Cashel. This was where she died. At that time someone also tried to set fire to the wagon but it was quickly put out.’

  ‘I don’t understand any of this,’ said Abbot Saran in bewilderment. ‘I trust you are not implying that they were poisoned before they left here, lady.’

  ‘I never imply things,’ Fidelma replied in an even tone. ‘If there is an accusation to be made, I make it. I am merely asking questions. Since the couple were here, this is obviously the place to start our investigation. The fact remains that they left here and were both dead within a few days. We must try to find the answers to certain questions in order to get to the bottom of this mystery. The first question is, what brought them here: what were they looking for? The second question is, what happened between the time they left here and when they were found dead? I do not believe they were treasure-hunters, at least not in the sense you believe.’

  Brother Failge swallowed nervously. ‘I understand why you must ask these questions. But I can assure you that no one in this abbey poisoned them.’

  ‘It is not assurances that a dálaigh seeks,’ Fidelma replied coldly, ‘it is facts. Give me facts – because I do not have any that make sense.’

  Abbot Saran spread his hands; the same curious gesture without moving his arms, just a motion of the hands themselves. ‘Then we can supply no further facts other than those we have told you. When these two would-
be thieves left here, they were certainly alive and well. They disappeared before our warriors could catch up with them.’

  ‘Apart from their names, which sound false, and their mention of coming from the north, from Tethbae, you say that you found out nothing more about them?’

  ‘It is as we have said.’ The Abbot sounded tired.

  There came the nearby sound of a tolling bell and Brother Failge coughed anxiously, saying, ‘It is the last service of the day …’

  The Abbot rose and they all followed his example. ‘The hour grows late,’ he said. ‘You and your companions are offered the hospitality of the abbey for the night, lady, and you are welcome to join us in the chapel for the service.’

  ‘We will accept both your hospitality and the invitation to join you in the chapel,’ Fidelma replied politely. She did not add that it was the chapel she wanted to see rather than a wish to attend the service.

  The warrior, Feradach, had important duties that summoned him back to the township, so he took his leave of them.

  Brother Failge said, ‘I will request one of our brothers to take your saddlebags to our guest chambers and I will escort you there after the service.’

  Fidelma glanced at Aidan and Enda. ‘We will get an early night’s rest. It may be that the answer to our question lies back in the direction from which we have come.’ She said the words pointedly in front of Abbot Saran and his steward.

  It was Enda, who had hardly spoken since arriving at the abbey, who now articulated what was troubling her.

  ‘What of Eadulf, lady? Cannot we find men who will volunteer to scour the marshes for him?’

  In fact, she had been thinking about what she should do. Now she turned and explained the situation to their hosts.

  ‘We seem to have learned what we can here,’ she concluded. ‘So tomorrow we will retrace our steps to the marshes in search of my husband.’

  Brother Failge immediately offered assistance. ‘If your companion is lost in the marshes, then we must speak with Feradach. I am sure he can send his men to Brehon Ruán, who dwells on the edge of the marshes and will advise on how and where to scour the most likely places in search for your husband, lady.’

  Fidelma thanked him solemnly as the bell clamoured with a new urgency to summon them to the chapel.

  Amidst the darkening woodland, well screened from the Hill of Ruán, Eadulf and Ríonach finally reined in their horses. Eadulf was breathing heavily, as if it was he who had just galloped across the plain rather than his horse! The girl meanwhile was bewildered and trying to calm the little terrier, Rían, who was clearly fretting about the sudden burst of speed.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she said, also out of breath. ‘Why did we flee from Brehon Ruán’s homestead? You say that you saw your horse in his field – but what significance does that have?’

  ‘Do you remember me saying that I was captured by Rechtabra and his companion?’ Eadulf said. ‘I was with my horse at the time, the little white cob with black markings on its forehead. I was blindfolded and the man, this mysterious lord for whom your husband and his friend were working, came to question me. I am sure he took my horse away with him when I was left alone in the marshland to perish there.’

  ‘You told me that, but how can you be sure that the horse you saw was your cob? You have told me that you are not a very good horseman.’

  ‘I can be sure because I still have the use of my eyes,’ he snapped. ‘Did I not see the dark mark on the beast’s forehead? I have ridden that horse enough times to know it. It was the same mark. It means that my suspicion about Brother Finnsnechta was right. He was sending us directly into the arms of the man your husband served.’

  ‘You mean he is a member of the Fellowship of the Raven? I cannot believe it of him.’ The girl looked horrified.

  Eadulf had been peering back along the path through the trees. ‘I think that you had better believe it,’ he said flatly. ‘I can make out two riders crossing the plain from Ruán’s homestead; they are riding fast in this direction. I think we were spotted as we rode away.’

  The girl took one glance and confirmed his observation.

  Eadulf looked desperately around. It would soon be dusk – but not quickly enough for the darkness to conceal them from their pursuers.

  ‘When I was a little girl, my father brought me this way to avoid highway thieves,’ Ríonach reflected once again. ‘There is a small track up the hill which eventually leads to an abandoned ring fort. We might try to hide there … we’ll never outrun them on this path.’

  ‘Lead on,’ Eadulf ordered, ‘and let us pray that they are not good trackers.’

  The girl urged her horse forward with Eadulf close behind. It was but a little distance before she turned sharply left through what seemed to Eadulf’s eyes to be just a tangle of overgrown bushes and shrubbery. It turned out to be a steep, hidden path. Ríonach brushed through, leaning low over her horse’s neck as the upward path rose precipitously through the densely growing vegetation. It was even more difficult than the climb to Brother Finnsnechta’s hermitage.

  Behind them, Eadulf imagined he heard the sound of pursuing horses, blowing and snorting at their heels. He felt an uncomfortable prickling sensation in his back spine. It was a feeling of utter vulnerability as he waited for the shout that would say they had been spotted. He shivered.

  The pathway came to a curious ledge on the hillside. It almost appeared manmade for, under a large overhanging rock, there was a fairly substantial cave with rocks and boulders forming a natural protection around it. Eadulf saw that the path actually passed on and upwards, but Ríonach had halted. She slid from her mount, holding her terrier under one arm, and led her horse into the cave. Eadulf had no option but to copy her.

  She turned and leaned close to him, whispering: They will hear the noise of our passage if we go any further. It’s best to stop here and remain quiet.’

  Eadulf felt a quick sense of admiration for the young girl’s courage and presence of mind. He whispered anxiously, ‘I hope you can keep the dog quiet.’ However, she had no time to respond before the sound of horses on the path below them became audible. Without consulting each other, they found themselves crouching behind the rocks as if it would assist their camouflage. Then, to their horror, the horses progress suddenly halted – almost directly below them. A voice cried out in annoyance: ‘Why have you stopped?’

  To Eadulf’s ears, the voice seemed familiar.

  ‘Because I don’t believe they are stupid enough to head towards Cill Cainnech over these hills. That foreigner is quite intelligent. He would know that we would assume he was heading there. So I reckon he has doubled back the other way – back along the road towards Durlus or even Cashel.’

  ‘Why do you think that?’ demanded the familiar voice.

  ‘Besides, Duach, I am not a fool like you.’

  Eadulf felt the girl start as she, too, recognised the two men. He pressed a finger against her lips.

  ‘I have a score to settle with him,’ Duach snarled.

  ‘We both do. With him – and with that traitorous little bitch. Rechtabra was a good comrade and died a terrible death. Come, it’s no use wearing ourselves out going further. We’ll pick up their tracks along the marsh road.’

  ‘Should we not tell Dar Badh what we are about, Cellaig?’

  ‘And waste time? I doubt she will appreciate that! Did she not scold us enough for allowing ourselves to be tricked into captivity? Had that gullible shepherd and his son not arrived, we’d still be trussed like a pair of idiots.’

  ‘True enough, and thank the powers they had horses, or we would not have been able to come back to forewarn him. She’ll tell him, and the only way to redeem ourselves is by getting hold of Rechtabra’s woman and the man.’

  ‘Come – we are wasting time,’ commanded the man they recognised as Cellaig. ‘Let us be on our way.’

  Eadulf and Ríonach listened to the sound of the horses cantering off back down the track towards t
he main highway. They waited until the sounds faded completely before allowing themselves to relax and breathe deeply.

  ‘I hope nothing has happened to the shepherd and his son for offering to feed the livestock,’ the girl fretted.

  Eadulf was thinking the same thing. ‘Who is Dar Badh?’ he asked. ‘Have you heard the name before?’

  ‘It means Daughter of Badh, the Raven Goddess.’ The girl shuddered. ‘I don’t think I want to meet her.’

  ‘The sooner we can find Fidelma and my companions, the better. There is much here that I do not like.’

  ‘It will soon be dark now.’ The girl was practical. ‘We cannot ride on along this path in darkness. And even if we had a lantern, which we do not, it would be seen at a distance and the track would still be dangerous.’

  ‘Have you a suggestion?’

  ‘Let’s continue up to the abandoned ring fort. We can use it to make the horses comfortable and we can rest the night there. Then we can move on to Cill Cainnech at first light.’

  ‘Won’t our pursuers realise by then that we did not double back? Won’t they turn round and try to overtake us again – and it will be broad daylight then.’

  Ríonach shook her head. ‘Even if they do, they will think we have joined the main highway into Cill Cainnech and will attempt to overtake us there. It is best to stick to these deserted tracks. Because my father always used them, I am sure I can remember the way.’

  ‘Very well,’ Eadulf acknowledged. ‘Your advice has worked well enough so far. Lead on, Ríonach.’

  Fidelma, as exhausted as she was, found herself unable to sleep. After she had returned from the chapel, she was shown to a small but comfortable chamber by Brother Failge. It was one of several chambers provided for visiting dignitaries and where women could stay. Aidan and Enda were given an adjoining chamber to share. As Fidelma lay on the bed, her mind was in turmoil; filled with concern for Eadulf and what unimaginable events could have befallen him. Then came the agonising sense of duty, that she had a task to complete as a dálaigh. She had always had a strong sense of duty which often forced her to overrule her personal feelings. That had certainly been put to the test for the first time when her close childhood friend and anamchara, her soul friend, to whom she would confess intimate secrets, became suspected of murdering her husband and her own child. Fidelma had pursued the case relentlessly and felt no remorse when she realised that her friend was indeed guilty and had conspired with her lover in the terrible affair. Duty forced her to bring her friend to justice.