Valley of the Shadow

by Peter Tremayne

  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.

  ‘Well,’ she said at last, ‘whatever the future, the Brehon Murgal is satisfied that since Artgal has disappeared, there is an end to the matter. We can accept that Artgal killed Dianach and fled the valley.’

  ‘Rather conveniently,’ muttered Fidelma.

  ‘There is nothing more to be said.’

  ‘Perhaps. Perhaps not.’

  Orla stared angrily at Fidelma for a few moments and made to speak, changed her mind and shrugged to indicate her indifference. In such silence they came to the ráth of Laisre of Gleann Geis.

  Chapter Eighteen

  They rode into the ráth of Laisre. The same two stable boys who had greeted them when they had first arrived were in attendance and took their mounts. It was only then that Orla addressed them again. There was a curtness in her voice.

  ‘Laisre and Murgal will want to speak with you immediately. They will be in the council chamber.’

  Neither Fidelma nor Eadulf said anything as they followed her into the council chamber.

  Laisre was seated on his official chair speaking earnestly with Murgal and Colla. They broke off their conversation to stare in surprise as Orla ushered Fidelma and Eadulf forward. Laisre did not conceal his expression of dislike as his gaze met Fidelma’s. Colla looked slightly bewildered at her appearance while Murgal’s countenance bore a look of cynical amusement.

  ‘So,’ Laisre said in quiet satisfaction, ‘you have caught our fugitives, Orla?’

  Fidelma raised an eyebrow disdainfully.

  ‘Caught? Have you given orders for my capture then, Laisre? If so – why? And what is this talk of our being fugitive?’

  ‘I found her and the foreigner riding back here,’ Orla interposed hastily. ‘She said that had Murgal thought more deeply about matters then he would know why she had left the ráth when she did.’

  Laisre glanced at his Druid.

  ‘Did you know that Fidelma was leaving?’

  Murgal shook his head indignantly.

  ‘Not I,’ he protested. Then his eyes suddenly narrowed. ‘Ah, I think I do know … now. You went to investigate the ritual slaughter? You did not trust Colla’s information?’

  ‘You did not trust me? Why?’ demanded Colla, apparently affronted.

  ‘Because she is a dálaigh.’

  ‘What has that to do with it?’

  ‘Because it is the duty of a dálaigh to judge evidence for themselves. What is the triad? Three duties of a good advocate: apprise yourself of the evidence not trusting to the opinion of others when you are able to form your own; a fair judgment and a strong advocacy. A good dálaigh would not trust another’s judgment if they could view the evidence themselves. Yes, I should have known, Laisre, that your refusal to allow Fidelma to investigate would have been ignored.’

  Neither Colla nor Laisre appeared happy with the explanation.

  ‘I told you that I wished you to have no more to do with the affairs of Gleann Geis than can be helped,’ Laisre intoned in annoyance. ‘We could have conducted our business this morning and you could have been on your way.’

  ‘We will conduct our business after the matter of the murders is resolved,’ Fidelma replied firmly. Laisre seemed outraged at her contradiction of his wishes. He was about to speak when Murgal interrupted.

  ‘Are you saying that you can resolve the mystery?’ The Druid’s keen gaze had swept the features of Fidelma with a strange, unfathomable expression. Fidelma kept her features implacable.

  ‘I should be able to answer that question tomorrow morning. Tomorrow I shall name the killer of Solin and the cause of the other deaths in this place. Now, it has been a long day, we have ridden far, so we will return to the guests’ hostel. Does Cruinn still refuse to serve us? If so, perhaps you would ensure that our wants are seen to. Baths and food are the duty of a hostel under law.’

  Her bright gaze swept the astonished company and then she turned from the chamber, motioning Eadulf to follow her.

  Eadulf hurried to keep in step with her as she made her way across the courtyard.

  ‘Did you see the way Colla was looking at you?’ he asked breathlessly. ‘By saying that you will resolve the problem tomorrow, you are inviting Colla and Orla to act
against you tonight.’

  Fidelma smiled grimly.

  ‘I am hoping that they might. It would be a short cut to resolving the matter.’

  Eadulf was unhappy.

  ‘It will be a long night before Ibor gets here.’ Then he paused and his face paled. ‘I hope you are not telling me that you have no other plan to resolve this matter than to frighten Orla and Colla into an attempt on your life in order to prove their guilt?’

  ‘Ecclesiastics in the book of the Apocrypha,’ she replied enigmatically.

  ‘Meaning?’ frowned Eadulf.

  ‘Do not reveal your thoughts to anyone lest you drive away your good luck.’

  Eadulf snorted derisively but, wisely, said nothing further.

  They made their way to the guests’ hostel. It was deserted. Eadulf took their saddle bags back to their rooms while Fidelma set to banking the fire in the kitchen to prepare hot water for the baths. She was struggling with the logs when Rudgal appeared bearing a basket with him.

  ‘Let me do that, Sister,’ he insisted at once, putting the basket down on the table.

  Fidelma, who had been on her knees struggling with the fire, rose with a smile of gratitude.

  ‘I shall not be reluctant to hand over the task to you, Rudgal. I presume Cruinn is still displeased with us?’

  Rudgal bent to the task of stoking the fire.

  ‘Cruinn is devoted to the chieftain and his family. I presume she is still angry at your accusation concerning the lady, Orla, and her husband.’

  ‘She is very opinionated for a hostel keeper,’ observed Eadulf coming down the stairs. ‘She should keep to her place and not pass opinions on those she is supposed to serve.’

  Rudgal glanced up at him almost with a scowl.

  ‘Everyone should keep to their place, indeed,’ he muttered turning back to the fire.

  Eadulf had almost forgotten Rudgal’s peculiar manner when he found the girl Esnad with him on the previous evening.

  ‘Have you brought us some food then, Rudgal?’ Fidelma asked brightly, turning to the basket, apparently not noticing Rudgal’s scowl.

  ‘Yes, Sister,’ Rudgal replied shortly. He had enticed the fire into a strong blaze. He stood up and moved to the basket. ‘The hot water should be ready soon. Do you want to eat before or after the bath?’

  ‘We will have our baths before eating.’

  ‘I will prepare them then,’ Rudgal offered. ‘Perhaps you will keep a watch on this kitchen fire for me while I do so?’

  After he had disappeared into the bathing chambers, Eadulf grimaced towards Fidelma and whispered.

  ‘The man seems to bear a grudge about something and that something appears to concern the girl, Esnad. You don’t think that he is jealous or something? No, that would be nonsense.’

  ‘Perhaps you should discover what ails Rudgal,’ Fidelma reflected. ‘After we have eaten, I think you should seek out this Esnad and find out what it is all about.’

  Eadulf looked uneasy.

  ‘I do not want to leave you alone until Ibor gets here. If you are going to put yourself in the position of lure to snare Orla and Colla, then you stand in great danger.’

  Fidelma shook her head.

  ‘After we have bathed and eaten, I intend to go to Laisre’s feasting hall and make Orla and Colla feel uncomfortable. They can scarcely do anything to me in front of the assembly. It is my belief that if they intend to attempt anything they will do it in the night when all is quiet.’ She gave him a mischievous grin. ‘Maybe you will be in more danger from Esnad than I will be from Orla and Colla?’

  Eadulf blushed furiously.

  ‘She is only a young girl,’ he muttered. ‘But you are right. There is something that needs to be explained about Rudgal’s behaviour.’

  It was an hour or so later when Eadulf left Fidelma at the door of the feasting hall and went off in search of Esnad’s apartments. He knew where they were for he recalled that they were in the building where Murgal’s library was. The same building was shared by the apothecary, Marga, and by Orla and Colla themselves. Walking across the courtyard he saw the portly figure of Cruinn emerging from Marga’s apothecary and he greeted her brightly. The pudgy woman whirled round in the dusk, glared at him, said nothing but hurried away. It was clear that the hostel keeper was firm in her new-found dislike of him.

  Eadulf turned into the building. He was surprised to find Laisre standing in the entrance hall. The chieftain also appeared taken unawares to see him and demanded, in a gruff voice, to know what he was doing there. Eadulf felt that he should not mention Esnad and made an excuse that he was going to Murgal’s library. Laisre merely gave a grunt and moved off without another word. He seemed as anxious to leave Eadulf’s company as Eadulf was for him to do so.

  Eadulf climbed the stairs to where he had seen the entrance to Esnad’s apartments. He hesitated a moment to summon courage and then knocked on the door. The girl’s voice called for him to enter and he braced his shoulders and did so.

  Esnad looked up from a chair in momentary surprise. Then she smiled, almost a proprietorial smile. Before her was a wooden table laid out with the Brandub board and pieces set ready. She was seated at the board and had obviously been examining it for a strategy of play. Eadulf cast a look round. The girl was alone. A fire burnt in the hearth for it was chilly in spite of the summer. A cool evening gloom hung outside. The girl already had a lamp lit and suspended from the ceiling over the table.

  ‘Ha, Saxon! I heard that you had returned. Have you come to play Brandub with me?’ she greeted.

  ‘Er, not exactly,’ he muttered, wondering how to question her.

  ‘Do not worry, I will show you how to play it.’

  Eadulf was about to refuse on an impulse when he realised that he would learn nothing from the daughter of Orla if he let his emotions get the better of him.

  ‘Come in and close the door,’ she instructed with all the authority of someone of mature years.

  He entered and closed the door.

  She looked at him with a speculative expression.

  ‘Have you never played Brandub before?’

  Eadulf was about to admit that he had played hardly anything else with his fellow students at Tuam Brecain. However, he caught himself in time and shook his head.

  ‘I will follow your instructions,’ he announced gravely, as he took the seat opposite her. It was a good opportunity. As the game proceeded he would be able to put his questions to her.

  She did not drop her eyes to the gaming table.

  ‘You know what Brandub means?’

  ‘That’s easy. Black Raven.’

  ‘But do you know why we call the game so?’

  He had heard the explanation several times but feigned ignorance.

  ‘The raven is the symbol of the goddess of death and battles. It is the symbol of danger. The purpose of this game is to survive an attack from the hostile forces of the other player – one player attacks and the other defends. Therefore we call the game after the symbol of danger.’

  Eadulf tried to appear engrossed by the information, as if he had not heard it before.

  ‘There,’ the girl gestured with her hand to the board on the table, ‘you see a board which is divided into forty-nine squares, seven squares by seven squares. In the centre square you have one large king piece, you see it?’

  He nodded automatically.

  ‘That symbolises the High King at Tara. Around the High King are four other pieces. Each one represents a provincial king. There are the kings of Cashel in Muman, Cruachan in Connacht, Ailenn in Leinster and Ailech in Ulaidh.’

  ‘I understand,’ he said gravely.

  ‘On each side of the board there are two attacking pieces, eight in all. The attacker moves them across the board unless checked by a combination of the provincial king pieces. The purpose is to drive the High King piece into a corner from which he cannot escape. When that happens, the game is won. You follow? But if the attacker cannot overcome the d
efenders then he loses the game.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Then I shall attack first,’ the girl smiled with forced sweetness. ‘I like to attack more than I do to defend. You will defend. Are you ready?’

  Eadulf nodded compliantly.

  The girl began her moves with Eadulf countering in the required form. He had to admit that the girl attacked with determination and while she lacked a carefully thought out strategy she took chances which sometimes paid off. Force before strategy seemed her technique.

  The girl was soon frowning in concentration as he played automatically, having quite forgotten that he was supposed to be a novice at the game, once he had been absorbed in it.

  ‘You catch on fast, Saxon,’ she finally said begrudgingly as Eadulf continually parried her moves.

  ‘Merely luck, Esnad,’ he replied, suddenly realising that he’d better allow himself some mistakes in case of angering the girl before he could extract any information from her. He was gratified when she responded to his poor play with a happy smile as she rushed her pieces to capitalise on his ‘errors’.

  He gave her a crooked grin.

  ‘What did I say?’ he said, after he conceded a defeat. ‘The earlier play was mere luck. Let me take my revenge with a second game. I do not mind defending again.’

  ‘Very well.’ The girl was smiling at him now with a coquettish expression. ‘But let us play for something to make the game interesting.’

  Eadulf frowned.

  ‘A wager? What shall we wager on?’

  Esnad placed the tip of her finger between her teeth, chewing gently. Her smile widened.

  ‘If I win, you must do what I tell you to do.’

  Eadulf was hesitant.

  ‘That might not be a good wager. Without knowing what you have in mind.’

  ‘Oh, I shall not order you to do anything that will harm you or other people,’ she replied winsomely.

  Eadulf shrugged.

  ‘Then if it is not harmful, I accept. But if I win, what then?’

  ‘You have but to name your wager,’ the girl replied, still wearing her flirtatious smile.

  ‘Lay out the pieces,’ Eadulf said gruffly. ‘And I shall think about it.’