The Second Death (Sister Fidelma Mysteries)

by Peter Tremayne

  There was a silence between them as each one retreated into his or her own thoughts.

  ‘I’ve wondered about the girl,’ Eadulf suddenly said. ‘What is curious is that we found no ciorbholg with her – no comb bag. Even those who work in the fields often carry one and this woman was certainly not of labouring folk.’

  ‘It is true what Eadulf says, Conchobhar,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘It is a good point. There was nothing else to identify either the man or the girl. The only things in that wagon were old clothes, religious books and papers all but destroyed. Surely there should have been more? How are you going to travel on the roads of the Five Kingdoms without any means of support and, especially, if you are of noble rank?’

  ‘I know that you do not make assumptions, Fidelma,’ Brother Conchobhar chided. ‘Perhaps the answer is so simple, we have overlooked it. Remember that our victims were both poorly clad – but perhaps they had simply been robbed – robbed and poisoned.’

  ‘A possibility but not a probability,’ Fidelma said, and shook her head. ‘And robbers do not usually poison their victims. The two of them could just as easily have stolen the wagon and the oxen as to be the victims of robbery. We have discussed their personal state and concluded that neither was used to manual work. Apart from the destroyed books in the wagon, there is nothing to link them with serving the Church – except the poverty of their clothing and what appears to be a tonsure on the head of the male. Even you, Conchobhar, are not certain of that. And if they were the thieves, it might account for the girl hiding the dead body in the wagon for several days.’

  ‘You really think they stole the wagon and oxen?’ the old physician asked, surprised. ‘What makes you come to that conclusion?’

  ‘The brand on the oxen is that of the Prince of Tethbae,’ she explained.

  Brother Conchobhar sat back in astonishment. ‘Tethbae? Was that why you were asking where Airgialla was?’

  Fidelma gave a quick nod of the head but Brother Conchobhar was frowning. ‘They could have stolen the wagon from Tethbae itself,’ she said.

  ‘The distance from Tethbae to Cashel by wagon, even pulled by a good team of oxen, would take a minimum of nearly three weeks. So they had to have been travelling for quite a while before the man was killed. The body of the male had been dead for around three days, but certainly no more than four or five at most. He was certainly not poisoned in Tethbae.’

  Fidelma said, ‘But the wagon containing the body might have halted for some days before the girl met up with Baodain. I am not sure that your theory helps us.’

  ‘But it does give us an idea of where the man’s death might have happened. A sort of minimum and a maximum distance,’ Eadulf pointed out supportively. ‘However, there is another question that comes to mind.’

  They turned to look at him.

  ‘What motive would compel an attractive young girl, who was pregnant to boot, to drive a wagon containing the decomposing body of a dead young man for so many days – if she had been driving it since he had been killed? Why not stop and seek help to bury the corpse?’

  ‘She was taking the body somewhere,’ Brother Conchobhar concluded.

  ‘She told Baodain she wanted to reach Cashel,’ Eadulf said. ‘But she died before she reached here.’

  ‘And why was she coming here?’ asked Brother Conchobhar. ‘Answer that question and other answers will come flooding to you.’

  Fidelma was thinking. ‘Perhaps you are right. We may be able to estimate where the man died and, if so, where he was poisoned. We have a timeline to go on – somewhere on a radius of three days’ journey from here. Perhaps we should ride out to the marshes, estimating the number of days it would take the wagon to travel.’

  ‘You do not have long,’ Brother Conchobhar said, rising from his seat. ‘With the forthcoming fair, people will be flooding into Cashel and it will be impossible to keep Baodain and his troupe isolated. I hear that the King, your brother, is quite fretful about detaining them.’

  Fidelma looked disheartened. ‘I know, I know it. Already some visitors have started to arrive. We were taking the midday meal in Rumann’s tavern when the first of the distinguished visitors appeared.’

  ‘An arrogant man and his acolytes,’ added Eadulf with a sniff of disapproval. ‘What was his name?’

  ‘The Lord of Cairpre Gabra,’ Fidelma replied.

  They were unprepared for the exclamation of astonishment from Brother Conchobhar.

  ‘The Lord of Cairpre Gabra?’ he repeated. ‘Are you sure that was his title?’

  They regarded him in surprise.

  ‘I am sure,’ Fidelma said. ‘Why?’

  ‘It is a small territory, that is true but in view of what you have been telling me about the brand on the oxen, then you ought to know that the Lord of Cairpre Gabra owes allegiance to Tethbae. The Place of the Stone – Clochar – that I have just mentioned, is in Cairpre Gabra.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘The most interesting point,’ Eadulf reflected, once he and Fidelma had returned to their chamber, ‘is that the girl expected to meet someone here in Cashel.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  Eadulf smiled briefly. ‘Why else was she trying to get here? Her companion is dead. I would say that she probably knew she too had been poisoned and that her fate would be the same as his.’

  Fidelma regarded him in approval. ‘So you believe that she must have had some pressing information to deliver to someone here? And are you now going to suggest that it is the Lord of Cairpre Gabra she was meeting?’

  ‘Well, her oxen team carried the brand of his master, the Prince of Tethbae. And she had in her possession a note referring to this Golden Stone which is known to be in Clochar, in the territory of Cairpre Gabra.’

  ‘All good points.’ Fidelma was thoughtful. ‘But what was so important about the girl and her companion that they should have been poisoned and their wagon set on fire?’

  Eadulf raised his hands in a dramatic gesture of helplessness.

  ‘I acknowledge that there are far too many whys and ifs. I have no suggestions about how we can start to find out, except that perhaps we should go and confront this Lord of Cairpre Gabra.’

  ‘And if he says that he has no knowledge of what we are talking about? There is nothing to link him with the case – except our suspicion that she was coming to Cashel to meet him.’

  ‘What about the brand on the oxen and the Golden Stone?’ Eadulf asked.

  ‘That is not evidence and can easily be dismissed.’

  ‘Then what must we do?’

  Fidelma was quiet for a while, thinking deeply. Then she looked up and said, ‘Perhaps the body in the wagon is the key?’

  Eadulf was puzzled. ‘We know even less about that second death than we do about that of the girl. How will that provide us with a lead to unravelling this mystery?’

  ‘I suggest that our next step should be to follow the idea that Brother Conchobhar raised. We start out at the point where she joined Baodain on the marsh road, then proceed back along the track she was observed as coming from. Somewhere along that track we might be able to find traces of her journey and even the point at which her travelling companion died.’

  ‘Three days’ journey in the marshlands could cover a long distance, and there are probably several tracks from the north which she might have taken.’

  ‘We know the exact track at the point she emerged onto the marsh road, as observed by Baodain and his friends. Also, we know the maximum distance that a wagon pulled by oxen can travel on these tracks.’ Fidelma was growing enthusiastic about the idea.

  ‘But that whole area is Osraige land,’ objected Eadulf. ‘It is not the friendliest of places.’ He had not forgotten how they had barely escaped with their lives from the warlord, Cronan of Gleann an Ghuail, who had styled himself Abbot of Liath Mór, disguising the abbey for a sinister purpose to overthrow King Colgú. Osraige was a border territory, paying tribute to the King of Muman but sometimes sidi
ng with the neighbouring Kingdom of Laigin; serving whoever suited it best. True, the current Prince of Osraige, Tuaim Snámh, had disowned Cronan. Fidelma’s brother had allowed him to remain petty ruler of the territory on condition he pay compensation to Cashel.

  ‘I don’t think we have a choice if we are to discover more about the curious wagon and its occupants.’

  ‘But it is a lot of territory to cover,’ he said. ‘True, we can estimate the speed of travel of the wagon – but how do we know how long the girl stopped at any point? Searching for the place he died, let alone the place in which he was poisoned, will be like looking for a beetle in a wheatfield.’

  Fidelma was not perturbed. ‘It is not impossible that the beetle can be found. We will take a good tracker with us, for among the marsh-tracks there is a lot of mud, and therefore plenty of signs that we may be able to follow.’

  Fidelma was rising as if she meant to suit her words to action. Eadulf glanced up at the window in dismay. ‘There is not much daylight left today.’

  She chuckled. ‘I did not mean to start out now. Tomorrow morning at first light is time enough. We’ll take Aidan and Enda, who is a good tracker, and be prepared to be away for several days, just in case the search takes that long. But if the girl came out of the marshes and met Baodain just after midday, then she would have only been travelling a short distance that day. She would not have driven a wagon through the marshlands during the hours of darkness. To find where she stopped for the night shall be our first task.’

  Eadulf saw the logic of such a search even though he did not entirely agree with it.

  ‘Now we’d better see my brother and tell him what is happening,’ Fidelma announced. ‘He was worried enough this morning about this matter, so I don’t expect him to be happier at our proposed absence now. But he should be informed of our progress …’

  ‘Or lack of it,’ Eadulf added dryly.

  Colgú received them in his private chambers, sprawling in his favourite chair before the log fire. His features were brooding and he had already deduced from Fidelma’s expression that she had no good news for him.

  ‘Well, you have brought us a fine mystery, Eadulf,’ the King greeted him, waving at them both to be seated.

  ‘There was no other place to take it,’ Eadulf replied irritably.

  ‘I suppose not,’ Colgú conceded. ‘It’s just that the timing of this mystery becomes a problem with the Great Fair being only a few days away, and the fact that these people you are holding as suspects are supposed to be there to entertain everyone.’

  ‘That raises a point,’ Fidelma remarked. ‘Did you know that Baodain and his troupe had been seeking to perform at the Uisnech Fair before deciding to come here?’

  Colgú was indifferent. ‘You should know that I do not organise the event. That is left to the Fair Master.’

  ‘Who is your Fair Master?’

  ‘It is usually my rechtaire, my steward.’

  ‘But you have no steward at the moment,’ Fidelma said.

  ‘As you well know,’ Colgú sighed. It was only a matter of weeks since Beccan, who had not been long in the position of steward, had been murdered by his co-conspirators. The King had not seemed anxious about appointing a replacement because Dar Luga, the housekeeper, was more than capable of running the household. But a steward had other duties and Fidelma had reminded her brother several times that he needed someone to help him run the affairs of the palace over and above just the domestic arrangements.

  ‘So are we to presume that the Great Fair will be run by itself?’ Fidelma’s tone was sarcastic.

  It was not the first time that Eadulf had witnessed a sibling spat between the two red-haired offspring of King Failbe Flann. They both had short tempers, did not tolerate fools gladly, and the warning signs were the way their eyes seemed to change colour so at one time they appeared cold blue and at others changed to a flickering, fiery green.

  The corner of Colgú’s mouth quirked in annoyance, and then he suddenly smiled and relaxed. ‘I doubt that even the great Druid Magh Ruith could cause that to happen. In spite of what you consider my procrastination, sister, I have actually appointed a Master of the Fair – Ferloga.’

  ‘Ferloga who runs the inn at Rath na Drinne with his plump wife, Lassar?’

  ‘The very same,’ Colgú confirmed. ‘As a matter of fact he is in the kitchen with Dar Luga at this very moment. He is waiting to see me to discuss some aspects of the Great Fair.’

  ‘Why Ferloga?’ frowned Eadulf. ‘I thought he and Lassar were happy simply running their inn …’

  ‘An inn, my friend, that is placed at the site of the Fortress of Contentions where the Great Fair is always held. Ferloga benefits from the visitors to the Great Fair and has seen enough of the fairs to be able to organise one with a blindfold on.’

  ‘I would like to ask him a few questions before he leaves,’ Fidelma said.

  Colgú spread his hands with an ironic smile. ‘You are the dálaigh, sister. But please don’t start arresting him. My need for him is desperate, to ensure the Great Fair goes ahead.’

  ‘Do not worry,’ Fidelma assured him, taking his response seriously. ‘I shall send him to you after I have finished.’

  Colgú dismissed the matter with a shrug and then rose to place another log on the fire. ‘Tell me then, are these murders connected with the Great Fair?’

  ‘That we cannot say for sure,’ she replied. ‘Baodain and his fellow performers have not exactly been open in their answers to us. But we must investigate further.’

  ‘Knowing that you have been lied to,’ commented the King, ‘is a step forward, at least.’

  ‘Speaking of steps forward, Eadulf and I will have to leave Cashel for a few days.’

  Colgú was startled. ‘With the Great Fair so close? Is that necessary?’

  ‘It is. And I am afraid that we shall need both Aidan and Enda to accompany us. You must insist that whoever is appointed to command your bodyguard will ensure that Baodain and his players do not stir from the confines of the spot where they have been placed under guard.’

  ‘But Aidan is now in command of the Nasc Niadh,’ Colgú protested. ‘I shall be left without a commander of my bodyguard. ‘You propose to take two of my best warriors! Where are you going, or is that a question I should not ask?’

  ‘We are going to the place where the dead girl joined Baodain’s wagons. From there we will try to retrace her route to the point where her male passenger was killed. Unless I am much mistaken, the answer will lie somewhere in the marshlands of Osraige.’

  ‘Osraige?’ Colgú was even more startled. ‘How in the name of all the saints did you deduce that?’

  ‘Simple enough, brother. Old Conchobhar tells us that the corpse in the girl’s wagon had been decomposing for about three days. Certainly not less than two. The maximum distance a wagon drawn by oxen of the type she was driving can travel in a day is roughly one hundred and twenty-five forrach.’

  As she made these swift calculations, Eadulf worked out that this was about seven and a half kilometres.

  Colgú thought for a moment. ‘Osraige is a country of marsh and conspiracy,’ he reflected. ‘Remember Cronan?’

  ‘I have not forgotten,’ his sister replied grimly. ‘But Cronan is dead.’

  ‘Indeed. But I would not trust Tuaim Snámh, the Prince of Osraige.’ Colgú grinned suddenly. ‘Anyone who does not change his name after his parents have given him that awful name deserves no sympathy.’

  Colgú explained for Eadulf’s benefit. ‘The name means “mound that swims”. It must have referred to the sight of the boy’s earliest efforts in the water, or his mother swimming when she was heavily pregnant.’

  ‘Have no fear about our safety in Osraige, brother,’ Fidelma said. ‘Aidan and Enda will protect us.’

  ‘Any idea where in Osraige this girl, her wagon and her dead passenger would have come from?’

  This time Fidelma was not quite so confident. ‘Well, we know th
e spot on the marsh road where she joined Baodain, and we can identify the route: the tracks lead from the north.’

  Colgú was pessimistic. ‘North? There is little there but marshland as far as the eye can see. To the north-east lies Durlus Éile on the border of Osraige. Why not go there, for the wagon might have passed through the town of the lady Gelgéis. I would start with the simple path first.’

  Fidelma knew that her brother had developed some attachment to Gelgéis, the Princess of the Éile, thanks to the latter’s help in foiling the plot by Cronan. The complex conspiracy to overthrow the Kingdom of Cashel had, it turned out, implicated Dúnliath, whom Colgú had expected to marry.

  ‘You are a king but I am a dálaigh,’ she reminded him. ‘I will start from the point where the girl joined the marsh road. Anyway, the road to Durlus is a long one and there are many side turnings off it. It would take many days to travel from there by wagon if she did not come down the main highway. My hope is to pick up information along the way from the point where we enter the marshes.’

  The King shook his head. ‘And you don’t even know who she is.’ It was more of a comment than a question.

  ‘True enough,’ she agreed. ‘But we do know that the wagon she drove is an unusual one; one that no wainwright in this island would have built. Also, we know that the oxen she was driving bore the brand of the King of Tethbae.’

  ‘The Fox?’ Colgú had now ceased being surprised at his sister’s revelations.

  ‘The same. And there is an interesting point – well, two interesting points.’

  ‘Which are?’

  ‘The first is that the girl had a piece of parchment on her with the words “Stone of Gold” on it.’

  Colgú was unimpressed. ‘Stories of stones of gold proliferate all over the Five Kingdoms. There is even a local legend about one of them, mixed up with Druids and the like.’

  ‘Old Brother Conchobhar has told me of the legend of a stone of gold at the place where the Abbey of Clochar was founded by the Blessed Aedh Mac Carthinn. That is in a territory which borders Tethbae, and whose prince acknowledges the suzerainty of Tethbae.’