Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_rt_yes, #Church History, #Fiction, #tpl, #_NB_Fixed, #Mystery, #Historical, #Clerical Sleuth, #Medieval Ireland

Valley of the Shadow (29 page)

BOOK: Valley of the Shadow

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‘But is it wise to go back?’ protested Ibor. ‘You will be in constant danger.’

Fidelma smiled briefly.

‘Wisdom is being wise at the time wisdom is needed. I need to provoke some answers. I think I will need but another day to solve this mystery.’

Eadulf regarded her in astonishment but Fidelma spoke with quiet confidence.

‘It will be early evening when I get back to Gleann Geis. So I should be ready to act by tomorrow morning. At dawn tomorrow I want you, Ibor, and your men to be in control of Laisre’s fortress. Take command of all the key points by dawn.’

Ibor was so amazed at her request that he was unable to speak.
But his face did not hold the total astonishment which Eadulf’s expression held.

‘It will be no hardship,’ Fidelma assured him earnestly. ‘I have barely seen more than half a dozen of Laisre’s warriors guarding it at any one time and the gates are left wide open all night.’

Ibor still looked doubtful.

‘It is not so easy. Even in darkness it would be difficult to reach Laisre’s ráth without being spotted. The reason why the gates are never closed is obvious. There is only one narrow ravine entering the valley through which only two might ride abreast and that is always guarded, so no need to close the gates of the fortress. The alarm would be given at the ravine if armed strangers entered.’

Eadulf was in total agreement.

‘Even when we rode out at dawn, we were challenged, Fidelma,’ he reminded her. ‘Ibor is right. His men will not be able to enter the valley at all.’

‘But there is another route.’ Fidelma ignored their objections. ‘There is the river.’

Ibor laughed dismissively.

‘A river of rapids and waterfalls which is not even navigable by boat? Only a spawning salmon could hope to get up it into the valley. I have heard about that so-called route from Murgal when he was boasting of the impregnability of the valley.’

‘According to Cruinn, there is a tiny rocky path beside the river, room for one man at a time, sometimes passing through caves but eventually emerging into the valley beyond.’

‘Is she to be trusted?’ The lord of Muirthemne was doubtful.

‘She let it slip in an unthinking moment and seemed to regret that she had done so. I think we can trust her on that. It means coming into the valley on foot. Will you find the path and under cover of darkness reach the fortress without being seen? After all, you will face only a few unprofessional warriors while you command a troop of the Craobh Rígh.’

Ibor flushed at the implication that the Royal Branch warriors of Ulaidh were afraid of conflict with a handful of non-professional warriors.

This time Ibor gave no hesitation.

‘If there is a way, Sister, my men and I will find it. If we can enter the valley unseen then we will be in control of Laisre’s ráth before dawn as you demand.’

‘Good. Once you have control then I think I will be in a position to draw the veil from these plots and murders without fear for myself.’

‘But we have twelve hours to survive before that,’ Eadulf pointed out.

‘We?’
queried Fidelma with a smile. ‘I suggested that you remain with Ibor.’

‘You do not think that I am letting you return alone, do you?’ Eadulf asked in annoyance.

‘I do not ask this of you, Eadulf. It is not your fight.’

‘Neither was the fight between Cashel and the Uí Fidgente but I became involved and made it my fight,’ he said firmly. ‘What threatens Cashel is still my fight.’

He placed a certain emphasis on the last sentence.

Fidelma pretended not to understand but she did not argue further with him.

‘Then, Ibor, we will see you at dawn tomorrow. We will be banking on you.’

Ibor escorted them to the small ravine where his red-haired lieutenant, more deferential now towards them, had their horses waiting. They bade a brief farewell and the red-haired warrior guided them out of the foothills to the edge of the valley. Fidelma refused to allow Ibor’s man to ride further with them in case they encountered anyone from Gleann Geis on the way back. Fidelma and Eadulf continued to ride south keeping to the border of the foothills and not heading back across the valley.

‘Do you really think that you can prove Orla was responsible for the death of Solin?’ Eadulf broke the silence after they had been riding for a while.

‘I need to answer one question and then I might safely put forward a hypothesis,’ she replied quietly.

Eadulf’s mouth drooped pessimistically.

‘A hypothesis is no argument before a judge,’ he replied.

‘True, but it is going to be the best I can offer,’ she agreed. ‘I think it will be enough to bring forth those who will support us against Mael Dúin of Ailech.’

‘What is it?’

‘That I cannot say until I have secured the final link because at the moment it is that one link which worries me. Without it being put in place, the entire argument is destroyed.’

They had made a detour around a small foothill when suddenly a band of warriors came charging at them from two different directions, yelling and waving their swords threateningly. Fidelma pulled her horse around in a tight circle but they were surrounded and without weapons to defend themselves. Eadulf’s horse was rearing and flaying out with its front hooves. He had difficulty
maintaining his seat but succeeded in doing so and bringing the animal under control.

Eadulf found himself cursing under his breath quite forgetting his religious calling. For the second time that day they had been taken prisoner.

The warriors came to a halt, ringing them in, swords resting easily across their saddle bows, ready to use at a moment’s notice. Fidelma felt cold. These were not Ibor’s men.

‘Hold hard!’ cried a woman’s familiar voice.

The ring of mounted warriors opened to allow a rider through. The slender figure was undoubtedly their leader. She removed her war helmet and surveyed them dourly.

‘We thought that you had forsaken our hospitality, Fidelma of Cashel.’

It was Orla, a satisfied look on her dark features.

‘As you see,’ replied Fidelma, as evenly as if there had been no threatening behaviour on the part of the warriors. ‘As you see, we were making our way back to Gleann Geis. We had not forsaken you.’

The truth of the statement was obvious enough for they were scarcely a half mile from the entrance of the gorge and had clearly been riding in that direction. A slight expression of bewilderment crossed Orla’s face as she realised the point. Then she scowled.

‘Nor will I forsake you, Fidelma, until I have made you retract your accusation against me.’ Her voice was cold and brittle with anger. ‘Why did you leave?’

‘I would have thought that Murgal might have been able to explain the reason for that,’ Fidelma commented with apparent unconcern.

‘Murgal? What has he to do with this?’ demanded the wife of the tanist of Gleann Geis.

‘Murgal is a Brehon. He would know what motivated me to force myself to leave your brother’s hospitality.’

‘Well, as Murgal isn’t here to speak perhaps you will? Better still, perhaps your Saxon friend can explain it for me? Then I can be sure that I am hearing the truth.’

Fidelma glanced to Eadulf anxiously, hoping that he would understand what she had meant or, at least make no reference to Ibor or his men.

‘Easy enough to explain,’ the Saxon said calmly. ‘We came to look at the remains of the slaughtered men and follow the tracks to see if we could discover anything which Colla might have missed.’

Orla regarded him with suspicion.

‘I knew that you did not believe my husband’s report after he came to examine the bodies.’

‘It is not a question of belief or disbelief. Your husband, Colla, is not a trained
dálaigh
of the courts, lady,’ pointed out Eadulf. ‘He might not know what to look for. There is no substitute for one’s own trained observation.’

Orla almost ground her teeth in suppressed fury.

‘That is not the reason. I know that you both want to destroy my husband and I. For what reason I do not know.’

Fidelma regarded her sadly.

‘If you have done nothing wrong, then you need fear nothing. But it is as Eadulf has said. There is no better way to examine the scene of a crime than at first hand.’

Orla was still disbelieving.

‘And why would Murgal know where you were? You did not tell him. He was as puzzled as we were by your absconding from the ráth.’

‘Not if he had really thought about it.’ Eadulf leaned forward in his saddle in a confidential mood. ‘You see, as a Brehon, he would know that a
dálaigh
could not accept the prohibition issued by Laisre. Any
dálaigh
would have to see the evidence for themselves.’

Orla appeared confused for a moment.

‘So you followed the tracks?’ She gazed questioningly at Fidelma. Was there fear in her eyes? ‘What did you discover that Colla could not?’

Fidelma felt it time to deflect the conversation.

‘It was exactly as your husband told us,’ she replied blandly. ‘The tracks vanished and we found nothing else.’

Orla gave her a searching look and then sighed and resumed her scornful countenance.

‘So it was a waste of time, your coming here?’

‘A waste of time,’ intoned Fidelma as if in agreement.

‘Then you will not mind if my warriors and I escort you back to the ráth of Gleann Geis?’

Fidelma shrugged.

‘It makes little difference whether you escort us or not for that is where we are going.’

Orla signalled to the band of warriors who sheathed their swords and turned their horses to allow Fidelma and Eadulf a passage through their circle. Orla drew her horse close by Fidelma’s and they led the way forward with Eadulf behind and the column of mounted warriors bringing up the rear.

‘We have told you the results of our inquiries,’ observed Fidelma. ‘In return you may tell us the news of Murgal’s investigation of the murder of Brother Dianach. Has Artgal been found?’

Orla glared at her. For a moment or two it seemed as if she was going to refuse to answer. Then she shrugged nonchalantly.

‘Murgal has already resolved the mystery. At least that is one killing that you cannot claim you saw me walk away from.’

Fidelma decided to ignore the thrust. She was, however, interested to hear that Murgal had solved the mystery.

‘Who was the guilty party?’ she pressed.

‘Why, Artgal of course?’

‘Then Artgal has been discovered and confessed?’

‘No,’ returned Orla. ‘But his disappearance is his admission of guilt.’

Fidelma lowered her head thoughtfully. She remained silent for a short while before speaking.

‘It is true that Artgal’s disappearance looks bad. However, it can only be argued that it does not do his case good. To move on and say that it is an admission of guilt is taking the interpretation too far.’

‘It seems logical to me,’ snapped Orla. ‘The Christian monk bribed Artgal. When the bribe was discovered, Artgal killed the monk to prevent him saying what he knew.’

‘There is a flaw in that logic, as he had already demonstrated his guilt,’ Fidelma observed.

‘Besides,’ Eadulf added with confidence, ‘Nemon could easily testify that Brother Dianach had bought the cows from her to give to Artgal. Artgal had already confessed that he had received them.’

Orla was almost pitying.

‘You should inform your assistant more carefully on the laws of the Brehons.’

Eadulf glanced questioningly at Fidelma.

‘A prostitute cannot testify,’ Fidelma explained quietly. ‘According to the
Berrad Airechta
a prostitute cannot give evidence against anyone. So any evidence Nemon offers is not acceptable under the law.’

‘But Murgal is her foster-father and Murgal is a Brehon. That is nonsense. Surely, with such a powerful foster-father, Nemon has some rights in this matter?’

‘It is our law, Saxon,’ snapped Orla.

‘Because it is the law does not make the truth any less of the truth,’ replied Eadulf stoutly.

‘Dura lex sed lex,’
sighed Fidelma, echoing in Latin almost the same phrase as Murgal had once used to him. ‘The law is hard but
it is the law … for the time being. I hear that Abbot Laisran of Durrow is going to propose an amendment to that law at the next Great Council meeting …’

‘He hasn’t a chance of proceeding with an amendment to allow prostitutes the right of giving evidence,’ Orla sniffed disapprovingly.

‘That is up to the Great Council which sits at Uisneach next year.’

Orla was silent for a while considering the matter.

BOOK: Valley of the Shadow

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