The Second Death (Sister Fidelma Mysteries)
Page 20
There was no hesitation. ‘Duach!’ called the man. ‘Come here and help me rouse this drunken sot!’
Eadulf waited, hearing the voice of another man grumbling and the creak of leather as he dismounted from his horse. Then he swung his right hand back and brought the wooden cudgel down hard on the first man’s head. The fellow sank to the floor without a sound. Again Eadulf stepped back behind the door as the second man entered.
‘It’s dark in here. Where is—?’ the man began, but before he had finished, the blackthorn stick had rendered him as unconscious as his companion.
Immediately, Eadulf sprang into action. ‘Check to see if they were alone,’ he said tersely to the girl. Then: ‘Have you some rope?’
‘I’ll need to light the lantern first. It’s in one of the cupboards.’
‘I’ll do it. Make sure there is no one else about, and secure the horses.’
Eadulf knew the oil lamp had been left on the table. In the remains of the fire he found what he was looking for – a half-burned stick – lifted it carefully from the ashes and blew on the end. To his relief the grey turned into a red glow. He took it to the lamp and pressed the stick against the wick, blowing gently upon it. In a moment the lamp had ignited. He glanced at the two unconscious men then went to the cupboards. There were several lengths of fine hemp rope in the bottom of one of them.
By this time the girl had returned.
‘There is no one else about,’ she reported. ‘There were three horses but no other rider. I have hitched the horses to the rail.’
Eadulf looked worried, but the girl told him, ‘I think they brought the extra horse for Rechtabra as we do not possess one. There were no saddlebags or equipment on it and I did not see a third rider arriving anyway.’
Reassured, Eadulf said: ‘Then bring the lamp while I secure these two.’
He quickly removed the first man’s leather belt and the weapons he carried – a dagger and short sword. He then rolled the man on his front and secured his hands behind him, making sure the wrists were tightly bound. He noticed that each man wore the familiar plaited bracelet around their left wrists. He removed them and put them on the table, joking to the girl: ‘It seems I am making a collection of these emblems of the Fellowship of the Raven.’
Only when the wrists of both men were bound did he secure their feet. That task accomplished, he examined their weapons and deposited them on the table before returning and making a thorough search of each man.
Ríonach gazed fearfully at the unconscious men. ‘What are we going to do with them?’
‘You are going to light another lamp, so that I can see them when I talk to them. Is that bucket filled with water from the well?’
When she nodded and bent to the task of lighting the other lamp to provide more illumination, Eadulf picked up the bucket and tossed it over the upturned faces of the two men. They began to groan and splutter, and finally came to consciousness. Their first actions were to struggle against their bonds and curse. They seemed to have a good knowledge of curses and Eadulf finally intervened.
‘You will find it as useless to blaspheme as it is for you to struggle,’ he assured them jauntily. ‘I was taught to tie knots by experts.’
They stopped, suddenly realising they were not alone in the room. The first man, a dark swarthy fellow, stared at him with narrowed eyes.
‘Who are you?’ he demanded.
‘I think etiquette would dictate that you identify yourselves first,’ he replied easily.
‘Go to the devil!’ growled the man.
Eadulf turned to Ríonach. ‘Do you recognise either of them?’
The girl was hesitant. ‘I have seen him talking with Rechtabra,’ she said, pointing to the first man. ‘I am not sure about the other.’
‘They’re not local men?’ pressed Eadulf.
‘I am not sure,’ she repeated.
‘So, Duach …’ The man Eadulf addressed by name started, not realising that Eadulf had simply picked up the name from when his companion had called out to him. ‘Tell me how you know Rechtabra.’
‘Say nothing!’ instructed the first man.
‘But he knows our names, Cellaig. How—?’
‘Shut up, you fool!’
Eadulf chuckled. ‘Now, now, those of the Fellowship of the Raven should not fall out.’
The man called Cellaig could not hide his astonishment while his companion simply groaned.
‘It seems there is a code of silence among the Fellowship of the Raven,’ Eadulf went on, trying to encourage them to speak. ‘However, it is not worth maintaining silence if Rechtabra has already confessed.’
‘We don’t know him,’ asserted Cellaig, trying to recover the situation. ‘What he says is his affair.’
‘Oh? You come to his door in the middle of the night, and call on him by name. We know he was a member of your Fellowship. You said that your lord had a job for you all to do. What job?’
‘Ask Rechtabra,’ replied the man angrily. ‘He seems to have told you most things.’
‘Most things? Alas, not everything,’ Eadulf mused. ‘Sadly he is now dead to the world.’
‘Drunk!’ spat the man. ‘So he betrayed the Fellowship in his cups!’
‘I think you were meant to take that literally,’ Eadulf said, hoping his voice sounded cold and threatening. ‘He is, indeed, dead – to this world anyway.’
They stared at him uncertainly, and an expression of fear crossed the face of Duach. Eadulf could tell that he was the more malleable of the two. Still hoping that he appeared to be absolutely merciless, Eadulf reached over to the table, took up one of the short swords that he had removed from them and started to make a display of testing the point with the tip of his forefinger.
‘Well, now,’ he said, as if remembering something he had been interrupted about, ‘I think you were about to tell me what your purpose was when you joined Rechtabra this night?’
‘We were told to come here on Fellowship business,’ Duach began.
‘Enough!’ scowled Cellaig, his voice rough. ‘Remember that his reach is long and his vengeance certain.’
‘Oh, so we are back to the power of this lord of yours.’ Eadulf’s tone was disdainful. ‘Well, his vengeance isn’t that certain. Twice I have escaped his attentions, even though he had Rechtabra kill his companion for not ensuring my death. It was Rechtabra who eventually met his death. So before you also start your journey to the Otherworld …’ Once more Eadulf seemed preoccupied with testing the sharpness of the short sword.
‘We know no more than we were to collect Rechtabra,’ Duach began to babble, in spite of the efforts of Cellaig to silence him. ‘We were then to ride to Cashel and attend the Great Fair.’
Eadulf tried not to show his excitement. He forced a disbelieving laugh. ‘Your lord is so concerned for your welfare that he provides entertainment for you? I am growing weary of lies.’
‘No, no!’ the man shouted in a panic as Eadulf made a play of raising the short sword. ‘It was for the business of the Fellowship. We had to seek out some performers …’
Cellaig began showering a torrent of abuse on his companion.
‘I suppose you mean the Cleasamnach Baodain?’ Eadulf’s voice cut into the tirade.
It had the effect of stopping the flow of Cellaig’s curses and causing a silence to fall.
‘Who are you?’ he finally whispered.
‘I would say that perhaps I am your nemesis,’ Eadulf replied jovially, ‘except I doubt that you would know what that means. I am told your Fellowship is interested in the old gods. I don’t suppose you know much about the old gods and goddesses of Hellas?’
‘We don’t know what you are talking about,’ replied Cellaig in a surly tone.
‘Well, I’d like to tell you about this goddess called Nemesis; she personifies the power of retribution; she is the punisher of evil deeds.’
Duach shivered. ‘He has the knowledge, Cellaig,’ he wailed. ‘He uses strange words but he
speaks of the Raven Goddess whose name must not be spoken – the Great Queen.’
‘Shut up, you fool,’ muttered Cellaig, but he did not sound as arrogant as before.
‘The Raven Goddess? The Great Queen?’ Eadulf’s mind worked rapidly, trying to remember the stories he had learned from Fidelma. ‘The Mórrigán, Goddess of Death and Battles.’
It was the girl who, having been silent for a while, finally spoke. ‘I heard Rechtabra speak of the Raven Goddess of Vengeance, who feeds on the remains of the slaughtered on the field of battle and who creates strife between people and causes them to seek retribution on each other.’
‘So this is all part of the Fellowship of the Raven? Mórrigán just means Great Queen, so what is her name that cannot be spoken?’
‘Badh is her name,’ said the girl, and the words caused Duach to shiver, groaning slightly. The girl went on defiantly, ‘I do not care for the old superstitions. I am of the New Faith.’
Eadulf was interested. ‘Are we saying that this Fellowship of the Raven is no more than people hanging on to the old ways and refusing the enlightenment of the New Faith? I have met similar folk before.’ He recalled how Fidelma and he had been summoned to Tara when the High King Sechnussach was murdered in his bed and a plot was uncovered to bring back the Old Religion. It was a reminder that the Faith had not long been accepted in the country. It was scarcely more than two centuries ago that the High King Lóeguire, son of Néill, had accepted the New Faith. Eadulf knew that many places in the Five Kingdoms had not followed Lóeguire’s acceptance.
He glanced appreciatively at the girl before turning back to the prisoners.
‘Well, now we have been informed about your Fellowship, let us return to what you were meant to do when you reached Cashel and found Baodain and his performers.’
Once more it was Duach who answered.
‘Nothing. We were told nothing. Only that once we were there, we would be contacted by someone of the Fellowship and must accept their orders.’
‘How were you to identify and locate the contact? There are many people going to the Great Fair. You were to find Baodain’s performers – and then what? How were you to announce yourselves?’
‘What do you mean?’
Eadulf gave an impatient sigh.
‘Were you to go to Baodain’s performers and shout out “Here we are! What are we to do?”!’
Duach frowned, trying to understand. It was Cellaig who finally answered in a sour tone. ‘We were told that the person we were to contact would know us and would reveal themselves to us when we reached there.’
‘Nothing more? They would simply identify themselves to you and you were to do what they asked?’
‘We all wear the emblem of the Fellowship,’ was the uncompromising response.
Eadulf realised that they had told him all that he would ever get out of them. He glanced through the window; it was growing light.
‘We will have to leave soon, Ríonach,’ he said. ‘Collect what you need but don’t gather more than you can carry.’
She nodded and went into the bedroom. It was not long before she re-emerged with a small bag and Eadulf nodded approvingly. Meanwhile he had found a passable belt bag into which he put the emblems of the Fellowship of the Raven before gathering up all the weapons and placing them in one of the cupboards. He retained a couple of the knives as they might come in handy.
‘Is there anything dangerous left in there?’ he asked the girl, indicating the bedroom. ‘Anything they can use?’ She shook her head and Eadulf turned to the captives with a grim smile. ‘I am getting slightly tired of heaving bodies around,’ he told them.
‘Here, what are you doing? You can’t leave us like this!’ protested Duach as Eadulf lifted him under the arms and dragged him into the bedroom, half-lifting, half-pulling him onto the bed.
‘Oh, but I can,’ he replied a little breathlessly before returning to repeat the performance with Cellaig.
‘You are bluffing,’ grunted the fellow. ‘You are a man of the New Faith. You may be a foreigner but I see the tonsure on your head. You cannot leave us tied up in the middle of nowhere. We’ll die. At least untie us.’
‘Your so-called lord left me in more or less the same position – tied up and blindfolded somewhere in the middle of the marshland. I managed to survive. You are left in more comfortable circumstances. At least I won’t leave you blindfolded.’
‘Please … please …’ wailed Duach.
‘Oh, and I shall be borrowing your horses,’ Eadulf added. ‘You see, your so-called lord borrowed mine when he left me to die on the marshland.’
He turned and shut the door behind him against their protests.
Ríonach was waiting for him in the main room of the farmhouse. She was clutching her bag of belongings.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said.
‘Simple,’ he replied. ‘We can make better time on horseback than walking. Can you ride?’
‘I haven’t been allowed to do so since I came here as Rechtabra’s bride,’ she replied, ‘but yes, I can ride.’
‘That is good. I don’t like horses, but in these circumstances I shan’t complain. All ready?’
The girl hesitated. ‘But you can’t really leave them like that,’ she said, indicating the bedroom.
‘I was left in a worse situation,’ he countered grimly.
‘But—’
‘All right,’ he interrupted. ‘I have a kind heart. We’ll get that shepherd you know to release them, when he comes to feed the animals. That is more than they did for me, so I am being generous. Does that make you happier?’
‘I have enough on my conscience without more deaths,’ she said quietly.
‘Then give me your bag and let us go.’
There was a whimpering from the corner and the little terrier Rían was looking at them with a woebegone expression.
‘You’ll have to carry him,’ Eadulf said. ‘I don’t think he’ll be strong enough to run with the horses.’
She looked at him curiously. ‘You are a strange man. You wouldn’t hesitate to abandon your enemies to their fate, but you care for a little terrier.’
‘You didn’t think I would make you leave the dog here, did you?’ he said gruffly. Then he turned and walked out of the door before she could answer.
The three horses that Cellaig and Duach had arrived on were certainly good ones, worthy mounts for warriors. As the girl had said, two of them were fully equipped with saddlebags. Eadulf took time to look through them in case they contained something of value. He discarded the clothes from both bags and tied the girl’s bag in place on a dappled grey. He cradled the terrier, shivering in his arms, until she was mounted, then held the animal up to her. The little beast seemed happier once she had placed it comfortably across her saddle-bow.
Eadulf returned to the horse that he had selected, a chestnut, and mounted, taking the rein of the third animal to lead it.
‘You’ll not leave it behind?’ asked the girl, indicating the horse.
He shook his head. ‘It might come in useful. We could trade it.’
The sun was now rising and the countryside was becoming alive around them.
‘You take the lead,’ he called. ‘We’ll head for this Mountain of the High Fields – what was it, Sliabh Ard Achaigh?’
‘And we will stop at the shepherd’s homestead which is just beyond the great highway,’ she reminded him. ‘He can release those men as well as feed the animals.’
Eadulf pulled a face. ‘You do realise that they would not do the same for you?’
‘That is no excuse to forget the teachings of the New Faith or to descend to their level,’ she admonished. ‘You sometimes speak strangely for one who claims to be a religieux.’
‘Perhaps that is because I was a pagan until I reached the age of choice and fell under the influence of Christians from this country. Sometimes it is easier not to turn the other cheek because doing so often invites further injury rather than p
reventing it.’
‘Do you believe in that goddess you were talking about – Nem … Nem …?’
‘Nemesis?’ Eadulf gave the question some thought. ‘An interesting point. Perhaps. I was a gerefa of my people. That is much like your Brehons. What is law and justice but retribution?’
The girl was uncertain. ‘I do not think it is quite the same.’
‘Perhaps you are right,’ Eadulf admitted reluctantly. ‘Don’t worry. For the sake of both our consciences, we will alert the shepherd or someone else to rescue those men. However, I hope to be some way away from here before they are released.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They had been riding for some time, speaking little except when Ríonach gave a direction to Eadulf. They had crossed through a bordering forest to the main highway, which Eadulf realised must be the Slíge Dála, and joined a track on the opposite side. ‘This way will lead us to the shepherd’s homestead,’ she told him. ‘Beyond, you can see the Mountains of the High Fields where Brother Finnsnechta has his hermitage.’ Eadulf was almost reluctant to leave the main highway as he knew that it was the quickest route to Cashel and the road that Fidelma and his friends must have joined after they left Rechtabra’s farmstead. He wondered which direction they had taken; was it back to Cashel or on to Cill Cainnech?
They were moving to higher ground leading towards the foothills of the mountain range. They had not gone far along the path when, twisting through a small copse of beech and inevitable yew, they came upon a small homestead, where a dog started barking. At once, Rían, who had been lying quiet across the girl’s saddle bow, stood up and began to bristle and snarl. Ríonach quietened him with a word of command, just as a man appeared out of the house and snapped an order to his animal to be still. The man looked familiar to Eadulf: a weatherbeaten fellow of middle years, with bright blue eyes. The man also seemed to recognise Eadulf.
‘God’s blessing on you, Brother,’ he greeted, a moment before Eadulf realised it was the same shepherd whom he had encountered down in the marshland before he had reached the deserted homestead and was attacked.