Valley of the Shadow

by Peter Tremayne

  Eadulf had finally chosen the path to Rome rather than Iona. It had been attending the debate between the advocates of the Roman liturgy and the observances of Columba in Whitby that Eadulf had first worked with Fidelma, who was not only a religieuse but an advocate of the Irish courts of law. They had been through several adventures together. And here he was, back in Ireland, as special envoy to Fidelma’s brother, Colgú, king of Muman, on behalf of the new archbishop of Canterbury, Theodore of Tarsus.

  Eadulf knew well the extent to which people preferred to cling to old ways and old ideas rather than leap into the untried and unknown.

  ‘Is this chieftain, Laisre, whom we seek, so fearful of the Faith?’ he inquired.

  Fidelma shrugged.

  ‘Perhaps it is not Laisre who is to be feared but those who counsel him,’ she suggested. ‘Laisre is the leader of his people and will respect caste and status. He is willing to meet with me and discuss the matter of establishing a permanent representation of the Faith in his lands. That is a sign of a liberal attitude.’

  She paused and found her mind turning over the events of the previous week; thinking of the day on which her brother Colgú of Cashel, king of Muman, asked her to meet him in his private chamber …

  There was no doubting that Colgú of Cashel was related to Fidelma. They shared the same tall build, the same red hair and changeable green eyes; the same facial structure and indefinable quality of movement.

  The young king smiled at his sister as she entered the room.

  ‘Is it true what I hear, Fidelma?’

  Fidelma looked solemn, the corner of her mouth quirked downwards.

  ‘Until I know what it is that you have heard, brother, I can neither verify nor deny it.’

  ‘Bishop Ségdae has told me that you have surrendered your allegiance to the House of Brigid.’

  Fidelma’s face did not change expression. She moved to the fire and sat down. It was her right to be seated in the presence of a provincial king, even if he had not been her brother, without seeking permission. It was not only her rank as an Eóghanacht princess that gave her this right, though that enforced it, but that she was a dálaigh, an advocate of the law courts, qualified to the level of anruth and thus could even sit in the presence of the High King himself if he invited her to do so.

  ‘You have heard correctly from the lips of your “Hawk of the Borderland”,’ she replied quietly.

  Colgú chuckled. Bishop Ségdae’s name meant ‘hawk-like’ and he presided at the abbey of Imleach, which name meant ‘borderland’. Imleach was the great ecclesiastical centre of Muman and it vied with Armagh as the chief Christian centre of Ireland. From a child, Fidelma had loved words and their meanings and often delighted in playing word games.

  ‘Then Bishop Ségdae is right?’ Colgú pressed with some surprise as he realised what this meant. ‘I thought that you were committed to serve the House of Brigid?’

  ‘I have withdrawn from Brigid’s House at Kildare, brother,’ Fidelma confirmed with a degree of regret in her voice. ‘I could no longer give fidelity to the Abbess Ita. It is a question of … of integrity … I shall say no more.’

  Colgú sat opposite her, leaning back in his chair, legs outstretched, and gazed thoughtfully at his sister. Once she had set her mind to something it was little use pressing her further.

  ‘You are always welcome here, Fidelma. You have rendered several services to me and this kingdom since you quit Kildare.’

  ‘Services to the law,’ corrected Fidelma gently. ‘I took an oath to uphold the law above all things. By service to the law, I have fulfilled my service to the lawful king and therefore this kingdom.’

  Colgú grinned; the same quick urchin grin that Fidelma often acknowledged an amusing point with.

  ‘I am lucky, then, to be the lawful king,’ he replied dryly.

  Fidelma met her brother’s glance with grave humour on her features.

  ‘I am glad that we are in such agreement.’

  Colgú, however, was serious again.

  ‘Is it your wish to stay in Muman now, Fidelma? There are plenty of religious houses here which would welcome you. Imleach for one. Lios Mhór for another. And should you wish to remain here in the palace of Cashel, you would be more than welcome. This is where you were born and this is your home. I would value your daily counsel.’

  ‘Wherever I may serve best, brother. That is my wish.’

  Her brother glanced at her searchingly for a moment and then said: ‘When Bishop Ségdae mentioned that you had quit Kildare, I confess that I had thought that your reason might be a wish to travel to the kingdom of Ecgberht of Kent.’

  Fidelma raised her eyebrow in an involuntary gesture of surprise.

  ‘Kent? The kingdom of the Jutes? Why so, brother? Whatever made you think that?’

  ‘Because Canterbury is in Kent and isn’t that the place to which Brother Eadulf must return?’

  ‘Eadulf?’ Fidelma blushed but raised her chin aggressively. ‘What do you imply?’

  ‘I hope that I imply nothing,’ returned Colgú with a knowing smile. ‘I simply observe that you have spent much time in the company of the Saxon. I see the way that you and he respond to each other. Am I not your brother and have no reason to be blind to such things?’

  Fidelma compressed her lips with an embarrassed expression which she contrived to turn into quiet irritation.

  ‘That is foolish talk.’ The vehemence in her voice was just a little too artificial.

  Colgú regarded her long and thoughtfully.

  ‘Even the religious have to marry,’ he observed quietly.

  ‘Not all religious,’ pointed out Fidelma, still flustered.

  ‘True,’ agreed her brother, ‘but celibacy in the Faith is reserved only for those who follow the lives of aesthetics and hermits. You are too much of this world to follow that path.’

  Fidelma had now contained her embarrassment and restored her composure.

  ‘Well, I have no plans to go to the kingdom of the Jutes, or any other land outside my own.’

  ‘Then, perhaps, Brother Eadulf will renounce his allegiance to Canterbury and settle among us?’

  ‘It is not my position to forecast the actions of Eadulf, brother.’ Fidelma replied with such irritability that Colgú smiled disarmingly.

  ‘You are angry that I am so forward, sister. But I do not raise this matter from idle curiosity. I want to know just how you feel and whether you are contemplating leaving the Muman.’

  ‘I have answered that I am not.’

  ‘I would not blame you. I like your Saxon friend. He is good company in spite of being a son of his people.’

  Fidelma made no reply. There was silence for a while and then Colgú stretched himself languidly in his chair and his expression became troubled as his mind seemed to turn to another subject.

  ‘In truth, Fidelma,’ he said at last, ‘I need your services.’

  Fidelma’s expression was grave.

  ‘I was expecting something of the sort. What is it?’

  ‘You are skilled in problem solving, Fidelma, and I wish to take advantage of that gift once more.’

  Fidelma bowed her head.

  ‘What talent I have is yours to command, Colgú. You know that.’

  ‘Then I will confess that I did ask you here with a specific purpose in mind.’

  ‘I had no doubt of it,’ she replied solemnly. ‘But I knew that you would have to approach it in your own way.’

  ‘Do you know the mountains to the west known as the Cruacha Dubha?’

  ‘I have never been amongst those mountains but I have seen them from a distance and have heard stories about them.’

  Colgú leant forward in his chair.

  ‘And have you heard stories of Laisre?’

  Fidelma frowned.

  ‘Laisre, chieftain of Gleann Geis? There has been some talk about the man recently among the religious here at Cashel.’

  ‘What have you heard? You may spea
k freely.’

  ‘That his people still follow the old gods and goddesses. That strangers have not been welcome in his lands and that the brothers and sisters of the Faith go into his lands at their own risk.’

  Colgú gave a sigh and lowered his head.

  ‘There is some truth to this. But the times change quickly and Laisre is apparently a man of intelligence. He now realises that he cannot remain a barrier to progress for ever.’

  Fidelma was surprised.

  ‘Do you mean that he has converted to the Faith?’

  ‘Not quite,’ admitted Colgú. ‘He is still a fierce adherent of the old ways. However, he is willing to consider the arguments with an open mind. There is much opposition among his people, however. So the first step is a negotiation …’

  ‘A negotiation?’

  ‘Laisre has sent word to us that he is willing to negotiate with me a means whereby he will give permission for members of the Faith to build a church and a school in his territory which will eventually replace the old pagan sanctuaries.’

  ‘The term “negotiate” implies that he wants something in return. What is his price for allowing the building of a church and school in his land?’

  Colgú shrugged slightly.

  ‘That price is one that we have to find out. But I need someone who can negotiate on behalf of both this kingdom and the Church.’

  Fidelma stared thoughtfully at her brother for a moment or two.

  ‘Are you suggesting that you want me to go to the Cruacha Dubha and negotiate with Laisre?’

  Inwardly, she was surprised. She had thought that Colgú was merely seeking her advice on the matter.

  ‘Who is more assiduous in negotiating and who is more knowledgeable about this kingdom and the needs it has?’

  ‘But …’

  ‘You can speak as my voice, Fidelma, as well as that of Bishop Ségdae. Find out what Laisre wants; what he expects. If the terms be reasonable, then agree with him. If they be unconscionable then you may tell him that the king and his council must take them into consideration.’

  Fidelma was thoughtful.

  ‘Does Laisre know that I am coming?’

  ‘I did not presume on your agreement, Fidelma,’ smiled Colgú. ‘He merely asked for an envoy of the Faith to be in his lands by the start of next week and that it should be an emissary worthy of my charge. Will you accept?’

  ‘If it is your wish that I represent you and Bishop Ségdae. Why isn’t the good bishop here, by the way, to express his views on this matter?’

  Colgú grimaced wryly.

  ‘He is. I have the old “hawk of the borderland” waiting outside until I had talked the matter over with you. He will advise you of his views on the matter later.’

  Fidelma examined her brother suspiciously.

  ‘You were sure that I would go then?’

  ‘Never,’ Colgú assured her with a smile which did not give weight to his reply. ‘But now that you are going, I want you to take a company of my champions with you. My knights of the Golden Collar.’

  ‘And what would Laisre say if I came riding into his territory with a band of Niadh Nasc at my command? If I am sent as an emissary, then an emissary I must be. He would only see the company of warriors as an insult and an intimidation to a negotiation. Warriors have no place in the negotiation of the establishment of a church or a school. I will ride alone.’

  Colgú shook his head vehemently.

  ‘Alone into the Cruacha Dubha? No, that you will not. Take one warrior at least.’

  ‘One warrior or ten, they are all warriors and will cause affront. No, I will take only another member of the Faith to express our peaceful intent.’

  Colgú studied her face for a moment and then gave a grimace of resignation, realising that she had made up her mind and when his sister had made up her mind Colgú knew that it was useless to attempt to change it.

  ‘Then take your Saxon along,’ he insisted. ‘He is a good man to have at your side.’

  Fidelma glanced swiftly at her brother but this time did not blush.

  ‘Brother Eadulf may have other things to do – it is surely time that he returned to the archbishop of Canterbury who sent him to you as an envoy?’

  Colgú smiled gently.

  ‘I think that you will find that Brother Eadulf is willing to bide a while longer in our kingdom, sister. Nevertheless, I do wish you would allow yourself to be accompanied by my warriors.’

  Fidelma was adamant.

  ‘How can we demonstrate that the Faith is the path of peace and truth if we go with force to make converts? No; I say again, brother, if I am sent to negotiate with Laisre and his people, I must go demonstrating that I place my trust in my Faith and my reliance on a truthful tongue not a sword. Vincit omnia veritas!’

  Colgú was amused.

  ‘Truth may well conquer all things but knowing when and to whom that truth should be spoken is the secret. Since you are fond of Latin tags, Fidelma, I give you this advice – cave quid, dicis, quando et cui.’

  Fidelma bowed her head gravely.

  ‘It is advice that I shall bear in mind.’

  Colgú arose and went to a cupboard, taking from it a small wand of white rowan wood on which was fixed a figurine in gold. It was the image of an antlered stag, the symbol of the Eóghanacht princes of Cashel. Solemnly, Colgú handed it to his sister.

  ‘Here is the emblem of your embassy, Fidelma. By this wand you derive authority from me and speak with my voice.’

  Fidelma rose, knowing well the symbolism of the wand.

  ‘I will not fail you, brother.’

  Colgú gazed fondly on his sister, then held out both hands and placed them on her shoulders.

  ‘And since I cannot persuade you to take a troop of warriors with you, I can offer you the next best thing.’

  Fidelma frowned as Colgú turned and clapped his hands. The door opened and his Brehon and chamberlain entered. They were followed by Bishop Ségdae, an elderly hawk-faced man whose features seemed to fit his name. They had obviously been waiting outside for this moment. They bowed briefly to Fidelma in respectful greeting. Then, with no word being spoken, the chamberlain moved forward to Colgú’s left side. He carried a small wooden box. He held out the casket towards the king.

  ‘I have been meaning to do this for some time,’ Colgú confessed in a confidential tone, as he turned to open the box. ‘Especially after you thwarted the Uí Fidgente in their plot to destroy my kingdom.’

  He took out a length of golden chain. It was a simple and unadorned piece some two feet in length.

  Fidelma had seen other kings of Cashel perform the ceremony and she suddenly realised what was about to take place. Even so, she was surprised.

  ‘Do you mean to raise me to the Niadh Nasc?’ she whispered.

  ‘I do,’ confirmed her brother. ‘Will you kneel and take the oath?’

  The Niadh Nasc, the order of the Golden Chain or Collar, was a venerable Muman nobiliary fraternity which had sprung from membership of the ancient elite warrior guards of the kings of Cashel. The honour was in the personal presentation of the Eóghanacht king of Cashel and each recipient observed personal allegiance to him, being given, in turn, a cross to wear which had originated from an ancient solar symbol for it was said the origins of the honour were shrouded in the mists of time. Some scribes claimed that it had been founded almost a thousand years before the birth of Christ.

  Slowly, Fidelma sank to her knees.

  ‘Do you, Fidelma of Cashel, swear on all that you honour to defend and guard the legitimate king of Muman, the head of your house, and receive in brotherhood and sisterhood your companions who bear the order of the Golden Chain?’

  ‘I swear it,’ whispered Fidelma and placed her right hand in that of her brother, Colgú the king.

  He took the length of golden chain and wrapped it around their joined hands in a symbolic act of binding them.

  ‘Conscious of your loyalty towards our person, house and
order, and of the solemn vow you have sworn to obey, defend, protect and guard the same, so now do we bind you with this chain to our service and invest you as a Niadh Nasc. Let death and not dishonour sever these links.’

  There was silence for a moment and then, with an awkward laugh, Colgú unwound the chain and raised his sister to her feet, bestowing a kiss on both her cheeks. Then he turned back to the box and took out another length of golden chain. This time there was a singularly shaped cross attached to the end of it, a white cross with rounded ends in which a plain cross was inserted. It was the insignia of the order, a cross that was old before Christian symbolism. Gravely, Colgú placed it around his sister’s neck.

  ‘Any person within the five kingdoms of Éireann will know this insignia,’ he said solemnly. ‘You have refused the protection of my warriors in the flesh but this will afford you their protection in spirit because anyone who offers offence to a member of this order also offers offence to the kings of Cashel and the brethren of the Niadh Nasc.’

  Fidelma knew that her brother was making no idle boast. Few were admitted to the order, even fewer women achieved the honour.

  ‘I will wear this insignia with honour, brother,’ she said quietly.

  ‘May it protect you in your journey to the Forbidden Valley and your negotiation with Laisre. Also, Fidelma, remember my exhortation – cave quid, dicis, quando et cui.’

  Beware what you say, when and to whom.

  Her brother’s advice was echoing in Fidelma’s mind as she brought her attention back to the grim forbidding peaks of the mountain range above her.

  Chapter Three

  The climb upwards through the foothills into the mountains took much longer than Eadulf had expected. The track twisted and turned like a restless serpent through precipitous embankments of rock and earth, crossing gushing streams that poured from the towering mountain peaks, through dark wooded glades and across open rocky stretches. Eadulf wondered how anyone could live in such an isolated habitation for Fidelma assured him this was the only route into the region from the south.