The Second Death (Sister Fidelma Mysteries)

by Peter Tremayne

  Eadulf was shocked. ‘So Ruán is not …?’

  ‘The Lord of the Fellowship of the Raven?’ smirked Failge. ‘Now whatever gave you that idea?’

  ‘I know from your voice that you are not the one,’ replied Eadulf angrily. ‘So when are we to be graced with his presence?’

  ‘Right now, I believe,’ Fidelma answered grimly. ‘Come in, Feradach.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Framed in the cellar door was the commander of the Osraige warriors.

  ‘I warned you, my lord,’ Failge said to the newcomer before turning back to his captives. ‘I warned you that this woman was very clever. We should have dealt with her immediately instead of wasting all this time. However, as the pompous Abbot Saran would have said – praestat sero quam nunquam … better late than never.’

  Fidelma did not seem perturbed. ‘Poor Abbot Saran. I presume he suspected nothing of your involvement, nor your plans?’

  ‘Abbot Saran is a self-important fool. He thinks only of making money from trade to build up the riches of the abbey, not knowing that beneath it lay a symbol through which he could have ruled the Five Kingdoms if he had wanted.’

  ‘It was just a stone,’ Eadulf pointed out.

  ‘Just a stone?’ Failge’s voice rose slightly. ‘It is much more than that. It is a powerful symbol of faith, an icon that will scatter the enemies of the Old Religion and cause a rebirth, a new dawn. But first Badh will have her vengeance on those who would seek to destroy her.’

  ‘Well, we have a better quotation for you to learn by, Failge, rather than the one you have just quoted,’ Fidelma said quietly. ‘Praemonitus praemunitus.’

  A look of uncertainty came over Failge’s features.

  Duach gave him a nervous glance. ‘I don’t understand all this foreign business. What did she say?’

  ‘I said, forewarned, forearmed,’ Fidelma translated.

  As she spoke, Feradach suddenly came sprawling into the room and fell on the stone flags of the floor. At the same time Duach gave a yelp as his crossbow splintered and fell from his bloody hands.

  ‘Drop it or I shall run you through,’ came Enda’s voice. Cellaig stood in indecision for a moment with the tip of Enda’s sword at his throat, pricking a tiny speck of blood from it. He then dropped his crossbow on the ground and held his hands away from his sides. His companion was now cradling his broken wrist, moaning and cursing, as Aidan also came into the room behind his companion.

  ‘I would not try anything stupid, Failge,’ advised Fidelma in a cold tone.

  However, the former steward seemed incapable of movement, shocked to the core by the unexpected reversal of fortune.

  Feradach was groaning and trying to get up from the floor.

  ‘Lie still, Feradach, if you want to live, or you will die at our feet where you fell!’ Aidan ordered. ‘I am in no mood to be lenient with you after what you had planned for us.’

  Feradach still tried to move but the tip of Aidan’s sword was at the back of his neck and he stopped. Meanwhile Aidan had also drawn his dagger and menaced the wounded Duach with it while keeping his sword on Feradach’s recumbent form.

  ‘Eadulf, take the weapons from those two.’ Fidelma indicated Duach and Cellaig. ‘Ríonach, if you will put your dog down for a moment and cut Brehon Ruán’s bonds, it would help.’

  It was neatly done in a matter of moments, and then Fidelma instructed Eadulf to use the bonds that had tied the old man to bind the hands of Duach and Cellaig, adding that he need not bind their feet together as they were all going back to the main hall.

  ‘When can I get up?’ groaned Feradach from the floor.

  ‘Once Eadulf has secured your hands behind you.’

  ‘How did you know?’ was the man’s next question.

  ‘How did I know that you were the mysterious lord and leader of this group of fanatics? Easy enough,’ replied Fidelma. ‘Eadulf thought he recognised your voice though he could not definitely swear to it. The smith made a slip and addressed you as “lord”, an odd title for a cenn-feadh, a commander of a hundred warriors of a township guard.’

  Aidan was puzzled about how she had been able to forewarn him about Feradach. ‘But, lady, it was Feradach who showed us to the underground chamber. How could you come to suspect him after that?’

  ‘That was the very point at which I started to suspect him,’ Fidelma explained. ‘He came to my room at night when it was dark and tried to incriminate the Abbot as the person who knew where the secret chamber was. It was actually his intention to accompany me to the chamber and then by a ruse, like the one he tried on you just now, he would have incarcerated me inside it. Then he planned to claim that I had left the abbey and would have sent you on a wild-goose chase in search of me.’

  ‘But we all went together,’ Enda pointed out.

  ‘Only because Aidan heard the voices in my chamber and came to investigate. I had deliberately raised my voice several times, hoping to attract his attention. Fortunately, it worked. I suggested we all went to the chapel together. Feradach was forced to improvise, but not very well. He tried to distract us as we followed Failge from the chamber. Suspicion is nothing without evidence. When we stopped on the road, Enda suggested going up the hill to see if there was any danger on the plain before us. That was the perfect opportunity for me to share my suspicion with him. I did so, and he then warned you, Aidan. Both of you were to stick closely to Feradach’s side. Sure enough, Feradach used a trick to try to separate us. It worked … except that he was not expecting that you would be on your guard against him. He either planned to stab you in the back or use the same ruse to escape through another door and leave you both as prisoners.’

  ‘That is exactly what he did try, lady,’ Enda said. ‘But we were ready for him. We disarmed him and persuaded him to lead us here – just in time, it seems.’

  ‘I said that she was clever, lord,’ wailed Failge, now completely revealing his almost subservient role to the warrior.

  ‘With Badh on our side, who can prevail against us?’ Feradach’s tone was venomous. ‘These unbelievers have but a temporary victory. Already our people are waiting in the north. One by one, the lordships will come over to us and soon Tara will be no more. The Raven Goddess will triumph. Have no doubt.’

  Fidelma shook her head sadly. ‘I think you will find that doubt is the beginning of wisdom, Feradach. It is the essential starting point to knowledge, to question and to learn.’

  ‘Then you will soon learn that no one can withstand the might of Badh.’

  ‘If that is so, how is it that she and all the other gods and goddesses of the ancients have almost vanished during these last two centuries? If none can prevail against them, where are they now?’

  With a sudden cry of anger, Feradach tried to launch himself at her. But his cry of anger ended in a scream of pain as Aidan’s sword plunged into the Osraige warrior’s right shoulder in a swift stroke. The man fell to his knees cursing, as blood coursed from the wound. Even though he was wounded, Eadulf immediately secured his wrists behind him. Only then did he inspect the damage Aidan’s sword had inflicted.

  ‘A flesh wound,’ he said. ‘Lots of blood but not life-threatening.’

  ‘Let us move him to the hall where we can bind his wound,’ Fidelma said. ‘Ríonach, will you help Brehon Ruán?’

  The Brehon smiled with a tired expression. ‘I think I shall be able to manage. They did not tie me up for long. I have been kept prisoner for the past week or so. They brought me down here just before you came.’ He glanced down at Feradach without pity. ‘He is my own nephew,’ he said sadly. ‘The son of my dear brother, Coileach, Lord of the Marshes – and the murderer of his own father!’

  They stared at the old man for a moment of two in surprise.

  ‘So Coileach is dead?’ said Eadulf. ‘Feradach is the new Lord of the Marshes as well as lord of these fanatics?’

  The elderly Brehon sighed. ‘He takes after his grandfather, my father, who witnesse
d the massacre of those who followed the Old Religion. He fed the boy stories before he died and it seemed Feradach was lost to the New Faith from then on.’

  ‘Time for explanations later,’ Fidelma intervened gently. ‘Ríonach will help you. You go with them, Eadulf. Next these two.’ She nodded to Duach and Cellaig. ‘Watch them carefully, Enda.’

  After they left, Fidelma turned to Failge and Feradach. ‘Aidan will be behind you both, so do not try anything further. We’ll look at your wound when we reach the hall, Feradach. But you brought your injuries on yourself.’

  Failge went first, trailed by the now grim-faced Osraige warrior, whose blood was drenching his clothing. Aidan’s sword had penetrated deeply. Aidan followed them both, sword in one hand and dagger in the other. Fidelma was close behind him. Rían, realising that his mistress had already gone on, let out a series of worried barks and went scampering up the steps between their legs and along the corridor to catch her up.

  Ahead of Aidan, the former steward of the abbey seemed to understand his position now. His shoulders were slumped in defeat and he turned pleading eyes back on his former leader.

  ‘Save me, Lord!’ Failge cried. ‘You have the power. You said that Badh would protect us.’

  ‘Save yourself and Badh will sustain you,’ Feradach retorted angrily, the blood still seeping from his wounds and dripping on the stone floor of the passage. They moved slowly along the corridor back towards the main hall. On the left side was a large open window looking out onto the yard, where it seemed some of the domestic livestock was kept. Feradach hesitated slightly as he came abreast of the window. Aidan’s sword touched him lightly on the shoulder.

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ advised the warrior.

  Feradach attempted to shrug, winced at the pain in his shoulder but moved on. There was a wooden door just beyond the window that appeared to give access into the yard. Aidan was momentarily off-guard, having thought the man would have tried to escape through the open window and not through a closed door. He was thus unprepared for what happened next. The door apparently opened outwards, a fact known to Feradach. With his arms still pinioned behind him, Feradach suddenly kicked it open with one foot, leaped through it and evidently used his body to slam it shut behind him. They could hear the flapping of wings and repeated shrill cries.

  ‘What’s in there, a chicken coop?’ demanded Aidan, shoving at the door. It gave only slightly but held fast. Feradach’s body must be holding it closed.

  Failge had turned and was staring in shock at being deserted by his lord.

  While the group stood uncertain for a moment, they became aware of the strange gurgling croak of ravens. Then came the sound of repeated screams – rising from a human throat.

  Aidan tried again to push against the door, but it gave no more than the space of a finger or two. Even with Fidelma’s help it could not be budged.

  ‘No use,’ Aidan grunted. Then with a curse he handed his sword to Fidelma. ‘Watch this one, lady,’ he said, indicating Failge, before grabbing one of the lit lanterns in the corridor and launching himself through the open window. The sound of flapping wings and shrill cries continued.

  ‘What is it?’ Fidelma demanded. Failge was trembling; his face was pale and taut with shock. He seemed unable to make any sound. Then Eadulf came running back with the elderly Brehon limping after him. The old man glanced at the door.

  ‘That used to be my hen-house, There’s another door at the far end of it. He can escape through it into the grounds.’

  Fidelma shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Something is in there and it is not chickens. Eadulf, your turn to watch Failge.’ She handed him the sword. Then, taking another of the nearby lanterns, she followed Aidan’s example by climbing through the window.

  She found Aidan standing, his lantern held high, gazing in horror at the sight before him. A chicken shed had been built with one side against the main building and could be entered by the door through which Feradach had escaped. The sides were covered in a wire mesh which allowed air and light in for the birds. Another door at the far end remained closed. Their lanterns revealed what was inside. The creatures within were certainly not chickens. A grisly debris of black feathers, blood and torn flesh covered every surface. The bloodied corpse of Feradach lay crunched up against the door; it was the weight of his body that had blocked it. And on his bloody form were perched a dozen large black ravens, harbingers of death, crouching in their shiny plumage, their tiny eyes glinting wickedly. One glance was enough to know that Feradach was beyond all help and Fidelma turned away, feeling a terrible nausea.

  ‘I thought they were just scavengers,’ she said weakly. ‘I thought they didn’t attack human beings …’

  ‘There was blood on him, and his arms were tethered so he could not defend himself.’ Aidan gave a philosophical shrug. ‘These birds do usually prefer to scavenge, but if they are starved, as these birds have been, who knows what they will do.’

  ‘It is justice in a way,’ Fidelma sighed, resolving her emotions.

  ‘I am not sure I understand,’ Aidan queried.

  ‘He called himself Lord of the Fellowship of the Raven, believing in the vengeance of Badh, the Raven Goddess of Death. Isn’t that what all this business is about? It’s what he believed in. Well, it looks as though Badh, the Raven Goddess, has claimed her own.’

  Back in the main hall, Fidelma surveyed their prisoners grimly. The portly woman who called herself Dar Badh sat resigned on a chair, her hands also tied now. Duach and Cellaig were bound to the legs of the main table, and to one side Failge was placed bound in another chair. He looked pale and shaken by what had happened to his leader.

  Fidelma and the others went into the kitchen where Ríonach volunteered to prepare a meal for them. Eadulf had examined Brehon Ruán’s chafed wrists and had cleaned the cuts and bruises on his face. He found some salve in the kitchen and gently rubbed it into the affected areas. Then the old man was invited to tell his story.

  Brehon Ruán could summon no sorrow for his nephew’s fate. The boy had always been wayward. His grandfather, as he had already told them, had been a bad influence on him. When Coileach had become Lord of the Marshes, he had sent his son to be trained as a warrior at the fortress of the Prince of Osraige. It was thought this would help the young man to mature. Neither Ruán nor Coileach heard much of him until Feradach had reappeared a few months ago as commander of the guard at Cill Cainnech.

  It was not long afterwards that Feradach and Failge, with some men that Ruán thought were members of the brethren of the abbey, appeared at Ruán’s homestead. They escorted a wagon which was carrying a curious stone. They explained that it had been excavated from a local quarry. Failge requested that the wagon be kept in Ruán’s stables. The old Brehon was not particularly interested in such things, but he agreed. Nothing further happened for a while.

  Then a week or so previously, Feradach and Failge had arrived with a young man and woman who drove a strange-looking wagon drawn by an ox team. It was that same evening that Feradach made his Uncle Ruán a prisoner in his own room.

  ‘What about your own servants?’ asked Eadulf.

  Ruán gestured to the portly woman. ‘I kept only this one as my house servant, for my needs are not great – and now I find that she has betrayed me.’

  The woman scowled and said nothing.

  ‘But you have a large farmstead and stables. What of those who helped you there?’

  ‘It is true that I usually have at least three local folk working for me when help is needed. But the last major work on the farmstead was last month, which we sometimes call “the month of ploughing”. Since then, little help has been required. It is not until next month that our seasonal labours will start again. However, I have found that two of my regular workers are no longer here. Failge has replaced them with his own men. There are others, but I don’t know what has happened to them.’

  ‘Others? Probably those who met their death on the marshes,’
muttered Eadulf. ‘But three men to run such a farmstead as this are surely insufficient?’

  ‘It can be done with good men,’ returned the Brehon. ‘But I am sure Feradach commanded more.’

  ‘What about your brother, Coileach – Feradach’s father?’ Fidelma asked.

  ‘I did not realise anything was amiss until I found myself a prisoner of my own nephew,’ the old man said sadly. He went on to explain that some of the local farmers had arrived to seek his advice as a Brehon. Ruán was brought from his room with Duach and Cellaig at his side. The farmers were concerned that Coileach, Lord of the Marshes, had disappeared, and that his fortress and farmstead were being controlled by strangers. Ruán was instructed to reassure the farmers by pretending that his brother had gone to pay his respects to the new High King in Tara and would not be back for a while. Duach and Cellaig warned him that if he refused or betrayed them, death would be instant. After the farmers left, he was again imprisoned in his room. It was then he realised that Feradach must have killed his own father who, like Ruán, was a strict and moral man and an adherent of the Faith, unlike their own father, Feradach’s grandfather.

  It was also then that Ruán understood that he was only being kept alive to serve the purpose of allaying fears about the disappearance of Coileach.

  ‘You were going to tell us about the curious wagon and the young couple,’ Fidelma urged gently.

  ‘Oh yes. As I said, after they arrived, I was imprisoned in my room. My woman servant came to give me food. I asked why she had betrayed me and she would only say that she was a true believer in Badh. I did hear shouting and movement on the morning after the young man and woman arrived,’ he added.