‘This shepherd, Iolo, the man who raised Idwal, was he the warrior of whom you spoke?’ queried Cathen. ‘Was Iolo the man with whom this unfortunate Efa took up after she had become pregnant with Iorwerth’s child?’
To everyone’s surprise, Fidelma shook her head. Instead, she turned to Iestyn. ‘Iolo was never a warrior, was he, Iestyn?’
The farmer glowered silently back at her.
‘There is surely no need to deny anything now, is there? There are people here who know that you were a warrior in your youth and that you were Iolo’s brother. I presume that Iolo took pity on the baby, thinking that it was your own child by Efa? He took Idwal to foster, and you gave him Efa’s chain. Was that how it happened?’
Iestyn said nothing.
‘You became too old to follow the profession of a warrior and came to farm at Pen Caer. Idwal was nothing to you except that he was a constant reminder of your past misdeeds. Every time you saw him you were reminded of Efa. I think that you killed Efa?’
The farmer raised hate-filled eyes.
‘You will never prove it, Gwyddel,’ he said between clenched teeth.
‘I don’t think I need to. Your current involvement with the plot at Llanpadern, to which I will come later, is crime enough for punishment. However, it would be good to clarify these matters. Your lack of denial is sufficient. When Iolo died, you found yourself inheriting his property and the first thing you did was throw Idwal out to fend for himself. The lad had to survive as an itinerant shepherd, remaining in the district as an unwitting thorn in your flesh.
‘When Idwal was charged with Mair’s murder, you saw your chance of getting rid of the boy’s accusing presence for good. You took a leading role in demanding vengeance, in stirring people up to such a pitch of hatred that they took the law into their own hands. Your own guilt was also your motivation for your part in his slaughter.’
‘I was not alone in that!’ cried Iestyn.
‘Indeed you were not. The guilt lies with everyone who had a hand in the crime of Idwal’s death. But the most tragic hand in this was that of Iorwerth, Idwal’s own blood father, and for that crime he has inflicted his own punishment on himself.’
‘Just a moment, Sister Fidelma,’ interrupted Cathen thoughtfully. ‘You have told us a tragic story, and it seems enough people here can verify its details. It is a dreadful and sorrowful tale about Idwal’s life and death. But you refer to his death as a crime. True enough. But what of the crimes of Mair’s death and Brother Meurig’s slaughter? Whatever Iestyn’s past misdeeds were, you do not appear to be accusing him of involvement in these deaths, nor have you exonerated Idwal.’
Fidelma bowed her head and smiled softly. ‘You are a sound judge, Prince Cathen. We have so far only set the scene and attempted to clear up a mist that has obscured the central action of this tragedy.’
She paused again.
‘Iorwerth wanted to believe the best of his daughter, Mair. He argued that she was still a virgin and accused Idwal of rape. Mair had already come to sexual maturity. She was known by her friends to be promiscuous and preferred the company of mature men. She had a lover.’
‘This is dangerous surmise. You cannot make such claims without evidence . . .’ cautioned Cathen.
‘Oh, if need be I can call individual witnesses to back up my claims. Even Elen, daughter of Gwnda. Do you think it necessary at this stage?’
‘Very well. It is not necessary at this moment but be prepared to do so if you are challenged.’
‘I shall stand ready. Mair boasted to Elen, her close friend, that she had started an affair with a man who was older than her. On the morning that she was killed, she met Idwal in the forest. Idwal knew about her promiscuity. Idwal was a very moral young man and when Mair asked him to take a message to her elderly lover he refused. That was the cause of the argument which was witnessed by Iestyn as he passed them in the woods.
‘Iestyn witnessed the row and went rushing off to Iorwerth to stir things up, claiming that the disagreement was something more than it was. I will believe that Iestyn did not, perhaps, foresee that the event would result in Mair’s death, but when he found it did, it suited his plan well. He probably only wanted Idwal to be driven from the territory. With a murder charge, he saw a chance to remove him permanently.’
‘I am confused,’ interposed Cathen. ‘Are you saying that Idwal did or did not kill Mair?’
‘He did not kill her. Iestyn, hurrying to alert Iorwerth, passed someone else in the woods. He barely noticed that person, so intent was he on his errand of hate. Meanwhile, Idwal had refused to take the message to her lover. He had gone off in anger and left Mair alone. The killer then came upon Mair and Mair, in naivete, asked this person to take the message.’
‘Why naively?’ demanded Cathen.
‘Because the person she asked had been the mistress of Mair’s elderly lover for many years. She was now feeling cast aside while her lover found solace with this young girl. She already suspected Mair and hated her. To be asked to take a message to her lover from his new mistress was too much. In passion, she throttled Mair, throttled Mair with her powerful hands and killed her. Isn’t that how it happened, Buddog?’
Chapter Twenty-one
A din had arisen in the hall at Fidelma’s accusation. The noise rose while Prince Cathen and Cadell shouted for order and calm.
Buddog sat without expression. By not even a blink of the eyes did she register her feelings. There was no hysteria, no denial. Just a blankness on her face. It was as if she were no longer in her body.
Elen was sitting in her seat staring at Buddog with horror on her pale face. ‘But if . . . if Buddog killed Mair, then . . .’ She swung back to her father, sitting tense and pale and tight-lipped. ‘You and Mair were lovers!’ She screamed at him in disgust. ‘You and Mair--’
It took some moments before a semblance of order was brought to the hall again.
‘As the woman, Buddog, does not deny or confirm the charge, you may continue your arguments,’ Cathen instructed Fidelma.
‘Buddog had been brought to Gwnda’s house as a hostage as a young girl. Over the years Gwnda and Buddog had become lovers. Buddog developed a blinding love for him. I don’t know how his relationship started with Mair. Maybe it was because of Mair’s promiscuity. Maybe he was flattered at her attention.’
She paused when she realised that Gwnda was trying to speak.
‘Buddog was dear to me; I would have done anything to protect her. But Mair . . . Mair was young and vital. She gave me strength. She reinvigorated me!’
Fidelma expressed satisfaction at his confession. ‘I began to suspect Buddog’s involvement in this affair on the first night I arrived here,’ she went on calmly. ‘The trouble was that it was not the mystery I had come to investigate so I left it to Brother Meurig, not realising the danger he would face if he began to unravel the threads which I had already seen.’
She paused for a moment before continuing.
‘Gwnda was in the forest that morning. It may have been entirely chance that he came across Buddog just after she had strangled Mair. Remember, Gwnda still cared for Buddog. He has just told you so himself. In those few moments he decided to attempt to cover up her guilt. He told Buddog to take the letter and return to Llanwnda and he would deal with things. After she had gone, Fate intervened. Idwal returned to find Mair and apologise to her. Gwnda hid himself . . .’
Gwnda was groaning and nodding now. ‘I did not plan anything at first,’ he said. All his strength and authority seemed to have evaporated. He was an old man, hunched and frail. ‘I hid hoping not to be seen. Idwal came to the body and bent down. He could not believe she was dead. He tried to revive her. Then I heard the cries of the people coming. It was then that I knew what I should do.’
‘You caught Idwal and pretended to Iorwerth and Iestyn that you had caught him in the act. You pretended to be the conscientious and honourable lord and told your people to imprison Idwal, sending to the abbey of De
wi Sant for a barnwr. You had to be seen to be above reproach in this matter.’
There was a silence and then Elen said: ‘There is one thing wrong, Sister. There were signs that Mair had been raped. We heard the story of blood showing . . .’
Fidelma held up a hand. ‘It occurred to Gwnda that many thought Mair was a virgin. This was the most distasteful part of Gwnda’s cover-up. He took his knife and stabbed the upper inside thigh a couple of times to draw blood and went to pains to point it out to Elisse the apothecary, claiming the girl was a virgin and must have been raped before she was killed. What he did not realise, in his haste to lay a false trail, was that Elisse’s wife, preparing the corpse for burial, would see the wounds.’
Elisse took up in his place and identified himself. ‘I confirm that the blood was made by such wounds, Prince Cathen. When Gwnda tried to tell me it was hymenal blood, I had to inform him that it was not so. Further, as my wife here will observe, Mair was no virgin and sought my wife’s advice as to methods of avoiding pregnancy.’
‘It must have seemed Fate to Gwnda when Idwal came back to make amends to Mair and found her body,’ sighed Fidelma. ‘But Gwnda was too clever by half. When he heard that the apothecary would not support him about the rape, and he realised that the barnwr for whom he had sent might ask too many questions, he decided on the next best course of action. If Idwal was already dead, what need was there of a trial?’
Gwnda straightened up, realising that he should attempt some defence. ‘I was imprisoned in my hall when the mob seized the boy. You know that. I had no part in that.’
‘I know that you, fully armed, were being held by two unarmed young men, whom I see in this hall today.’
Two men stirred uneasily at the back of the hall.
‘Do they deny the charade? I believe that even if you did not persuade Iorwerth to fan the flames of the mob’s emotions to lynch Idwal, you certainly took advantage of the situation and made no attempt to stop them. But you wanted the barnwr to believe that you were not part of that attempted lynching. You wanted to safeguard your reputation and deflect any suspicion from yourself. You allowed Idwal to be taken and thought he would be hanged. Once dead, that would be an end of the matter and no accusation could be levelled at Buddog, or at you for covering up her crime.’
Buddog had remained sitting like a stone statue. Fidelma was regarding Gwnda without pity. ‘As you have told us, Gwnda, in spite of your affair with Mair, you still have feelings for Buddog. That’s the curious part. Your compulsion to protect was such that when poor Brother Meurig came close to the truth, you followed him and Idwal to the woodsman’s hut and killed him.’
Gwnda began to protest his innocence. Fidelma cut him short. ‘When we told you that Brother Meurig had been killed, you feigned surprise. Then, without our telling you where he had been killed, you left us saying that you would take men to the woodsman’s hut to retrieve his body. Isn’t it curious that you knew where the body was when you did not even know that he was dead?’
Gwnda groaned despairingly as he realised his error. He held his head in his hands and rocked back and forth in his seat. It was a few moments before he started to make some articulate sound.
‘He would not listen to reason,’ he muttered. ‘I tried to convince him that the boy was guilty. He argued. We struggled. He cried to the boy to run off, to find you, to tell you what was happening. I broke free . . . I swear I did not intend it . . . I was only defending myself. The axe . . . I just swung it . . .’
Fidelma gazed at him dispassionately. ‘When you had killed Brother Meurig you came back to the township. Why didn’t you chase after Idwal?’
Gwnda continued rocking back and forth, moaning softly; a strange, almost frightening behaviour in a man of his years and position.
‘I didn’t know what to do. You and Brother Eadulf had returned and I had to wait to see whether Idwal had spoken to you. Only after I heard that you had no suspicion did I call on Iorwerth. He and some others started to hunt for the boy. He was found and . . . you know the rest. You were right that I persuaded them that they would not be punished.’ Gwnda raised an arm and let it fall in a gesture of defeat.
‘Were you there? Did you watch an innocent boy hang when you could have saved him?’ demanded Cathen with loathing.
Gwnda seemed to have retreated in on himself. He made no reply.
Fidelma addressed herself to Cathen. ‘My suspicions about Gwnda were confirmed when I saw that he realised I would not be shaken from my belief that Idwal was innocent. This was the point where coincidence played its hand. Coincidence plays a much stronger part in the progress of our lives than we ever give it credit for. Elen had, by chance, overheard a meeting between the outlaw Clydog and some others. She hid but was discovered and fled. Although she had escaped, she was in fear that she had been seen. Then Mair was killed. Because Mair and Elen superficially looked alike, Elen came to the mistaken belief that Mair had been killed in mistake for her by one of Clydog’s men. Then, by chance, one of the men at the meeting in the forest passed through the township. Elen thought she had been recognised and it would be realised that Mair had been killed by mistake. She told her father and he saw another chance to throw us off the scent. He agreed that she come to me with the story.
‘Since he had been adamant about Idwal’s guilt and even refused me permission to investigate further, this sudden change of heart made me very suspicious. Gwnda’s weakness was this necessity to carry things to excess, to overdo his false trails - the blood on Mair’s body, and then to swing from extreme non-cooperation to an apparent attempt to be helpful.’
She paused and looked slowly round the quiet hall.
‘There, Prince Cathen, is the truth about the deaths of Mair and Brother Meurig to which you must add, as a crime, the death of young Idwal. The self-inflicted death of Iorwerth was but a sad consequence of this tragedy.’
Cathen sat back nodding reflectively. ‘Cadell, place the lord of Pen Caer and the woman Buddog under guard. They will be returning with us to the court of Gwlyddien.’ Then the young prince drew his brows together. ‘But what of the mystery of Llanpadern? You are forgetting that, Sister.’
Fidelma shook her head with a grim smile. ‘That is one thing that I am not forgetting,’ she replied softly.
The court had taken a short recess while Buddog and Gwnda were removed and placed under guard. When the scribe called for order, it was Eadulf who now took the floor in front of Cathen. Fidelma stood ready to support him. They had agreed between them the course of the presentation.
‘Prince Cathen, my knowledge of the speech of the Cymry is not so fluent as that possessed by Sister Fidelma. I trust you will bear with me if I stumble in my search for the right words and phrases.’
Cathen smiled indulgently. ‘I have knowledge of Latin and of the language of Éireann should you wish to explain yourselves in either of those tongues. Have no fear, I am sure that there will be no misunderstanding.’
‘Thank you. Sister Fidelma has explained one of the two mysteries with which we have been involved at Pen Caer. But the greater mystery was the one which brought us here in the first place. The mystery of the disappearance of the brethren of Llanpadern in whose community your own brother, Rhun, lived and worked. I will now explain how that poor community was taken prisoner, and why most of them are now dead or taken into slavery.’ Eadulf turned to Cadell. ‘Bring forth the prisoner Clydog.’
There was a stir as two guards escorted in the handsome outlaw chief. He wore his usual twisted smile. He glanced about him defiantly as if indifferent to the proceedings. Then he saw Eadulf standing before the court as his prosecutor and sneered openly.
‘Well, well,’ he murmured, ‘it seems the court of Dyfed has placed a Saxon in charge. Is there no talent among the men of Dyfed that you have to appoint your blood enemies to govern your courts?’
‘I am presiding at this court, Clydog,’ snapped Prince Cathen sourly. ‘Whatever happens here, you will answer to
me or to my father Gwlyddien. Continue with your presentation, Brother Eadulf.’
Eadulf examined the arrogant features of the outlaw for several moments. Then he asked sharply: ‘Prisoner, do you wish to appear before this court of Dyfed as Clydog Cacynen - Clydog the Wasp, a common outlaw and thief? Or is it as Clydog, son of King Artglys of Ceredigion, that you would prefer to be heard?’
The silence in the hall was absolute.
Finally Clydog gave a low musical chuckle. ‘Well, Saxon, it seems that you and your Gwyddel friend have sharp eyes. I will agree to answer as Prince Clydog of Ceredigion.’
Eadulf turned back to Cathen, who was regarding Clydog in astonishment. ‘You were right, my lord, when you first suggested, at our meeting at the abbey of Dewi Sant, that Ceredigion was behind this intrigue. With your permission, I will adopt the same method of presentation as Sister Fidelma in attempting to explain what befell at Llanpadern and what it means. I will tell the story and should we need witnesses or explanations then they will be provided.’
Cathen gave an indication with his hand that Eadulf should proceed. He seemed too surprised to speak.
‘Ceredigion has long cast envious eyes over Dyfed. You told us that. In their plotting, Clydog came here to this heartland of Dyfed to attempt to sow alarm and dissension. It was easy to hide with his men in the forest in the guise of outlaws.
‘What was the plan? A very simple one. If Dyfed could be made to believe that some outrage had been committed against them by the Saxons, an outrage which would cause Gwlyddien and yourself to raise an army and march on the Saxon kingdoms, it would leave Dyfed totally undefended. Once its fighting men had left, the Ceredigion could march in and take over the kingdom. A simple enough strategy.’
Cathen shook his head. ‘Simple but unworkable. The people of Dyfed would rise up and fight the Ceredigion. They would not accept the rule of a Ceredigion prince. Our warriors would march back and fight.’
‘I will come to that problem, for it is one which had been catered for,’ replied Eadulf. ‘However, like all simple plans, it was open to mistakes. It started with two coordinated actions. One of Artglys’s allies, Morgan of Gwent, was to raid the Saxon kingdom of the Hwicce. The plan here was to entice an Hwicce warship to chase Morgan along this coast. The Saxon ship had to be seen and rumours of a Saxon raid spread. That part of the plan succeeded but not in the time it was meant to.’
Smoke in the Wind Page 30
