Badger's Moon

Chapter Fifteen

‘Is there nothing that can be done until the return of Accobrán?’ queried Eadulf, once they were in the seclusion of their chamber. ‘I would have thought that there would be many things we could do. For example, what are we to do about Gobnuid? Brother Dangila and Goll also need to be questioned.’

Fidelma shook her head.

‘You are impatient, Eadulf,’ she replied quietly. ‘I am not neglecting our main purpose in being here. Certainly, all being well, we shall continue our investigation in the morning. Now, show me the nugget that you and Menma found.’

Eadulf produced it from his marsupium. Fidelma examined it for a moment or two.

‘I would say that Menma was right. It is genuine gold, just as the nugget that young Síoda found was genuine. Are you not intrigued by that?’

Eadulf shrugged. ‘I thought our only concern was to find the killer of the three girls?’

Fidelma showed her disapproval.

‘Scintilla set potent,’ she said softly. ‘Knowledge is power. You are fond of repeating that maxim. Eadulf.’

‘I fail to see what a history of that hill has to do with the murders of the three young women. We know that a madman killed all three on the nights of the full moon. So I cannot see what the old mine has to do with anything except there is gold still there. In fact, I cannot see that we are making any progress at all in the matter of the murders.’

‘Then you should remember another maxim — perspicuam servare mentem. If you keep a clear mind you will see the truth instead of being bogged down in irrelevancies.’

The next morning came with no news of Accobrán’s pursuit and so Fidelma and Eadulf mounted their horses and went directly to Goll’s cabin. As they entered the clearing before Goll’s bothán, the door opened and Gabrán came out. The youth looked surprised to see them and stood scowling in the doorway.

‘I thought that I was now cleared of suspicion,’ he greeted them sourly as they rode up.

Eadulf was surprised at the boy’s unfriendly manner after all Fidelma had done for him. Fidelma looked down at the youth.

‘As you well know, you were cleared of suspicion in the death of Lesren. But we are still trying to account for other deaths.’

‘I was cleared of Lesren’s foul claims.’

Fidelma swung down from her horse and faced the belligerent youth.

‘I am here to speak to your father,’ she said in a sharp tone that made the youth blink and take a step backwards. ‘Where may he be found?’

The boy hesitated and then motioned to one of the outlying sheds. ‘He is at work there.’

‘Thank you. And where is your mother?’

‘My mother?’ He frowned. ‘She has gone to wash clothes down at the stream. Shall I call her?’

‘It is Goll that we wish to see.’ Fidelma turned to the shed that Gabrán had indicated. Eadulf, also dismounting, tethered their horses to the nearby pole and followed her, leaving Gabrán regarding them with his look of suspicion deepening.

The shed door was open and inside Goll was bent over a workbench. He was engaged in polishing a large piece of timber. Even Eadulf could recognise that it was a piece of red yew and carved with intricate designs.

‘God be with you this morning, Goll,’ Fidelma said as they pushed open the door and stepped inside. Goll looked up, startled.

‘What do you want here?’ he replied gruffly.

Fidelma chuckled in amusement. ‘I swear, Goll, that I get the feeling from you and your son that you are not pleased to see the dálaigh who prevented a miscarriage of justice being visited on this family.’

Goll hesitated and then forced a grin. He laid down his polishing rag, took another cloth and wiped his hands.

‘Forgive me. I was involved in my work.’ He saw Eadulf peering at the carving. ‘It is a lintel. The carved red yew is to ornament the replacement door of the chapel at the abbey. The abbot commissioned it some time ago. Forgive my lack of courtesy. I was not thinking. I am sorry. I am truly grateful for what you have done for my boy, Gabrán.’ He laid aside the cloth and looked from Eadulf to Fidelma. ‘How can I be of help?’

‘I noticed that there is a bench outside,’ said Fidelma. ‘Let’s go and sit awhile and I will tell you how you may help.’

Goll looked puzzled but nodded and followed them outside. Against the side of the shed, Fidelma had noticed a large bench and on this all three took their seats.

‘What do you know of the Thicket of Pigs, Goll?’ Fidelma began.

‘The old hill? There is good wood growing on it. Oaks and alders.’

Fidelma smiled. ‘That is a woodsman’s assessment. You know nothing else about it?’

Goll shrugged. ‘In ancient times it was said that a herd of supernatural pigs dwelt on the hill and were led by a great pig owned by the goddess Brigit. If anyone caught and killed and ate one of the pigs, it would reappear alive and well the next day. That is why the hill received its name.’

‘So we have already heard,’ Eadulf muttered.

‘Do you often walk on the hill?’ Fidelma asked suddenly.

There was no mistaking the reddening of Goll’s cheeks.

‘What do you mean?’ he countered.

‘I thought my question was clear.’

‘Hardly ever.’

‘Then let us be specific, Goll. It seems that yesterday’s excursion on the hill was unusual for you. Is that so?’

Goll was silent for a while and then he shrugged. ‘It was unusual.’

‘What was your purpose in being there?’

When Goll still hesitated, Eadulf said: ‘It is of little use to prevaricate. I saw you on the hill. You were seen observing someone.’

‘You saw who I was following?’

‘I did.’

‘Then you should know why I was following them.’

‘Let us hear the story, in your own words, Goll,’ Fidelma said sharply. ‘I do not have much time for guessing games.’

‘What other purpose would I have but the same as your own, Sister? I know my boy was innocent of Lesren’s charges. But someone killed Beccnat, also Escrach and Ballgel. I have become suspicious of the strangers, especially their leader. I do not know his name. But it is not the first time that I have seen him move surreptitiously about that hill. The more I listen to Brocc, the more he makes sense.’

‘You mean that you believe that the strangers are guilty of the deaths of the three girls and you were following their leader yesterday in search of proof?’

‘That is exactly what I mean. I knew that you had dismissed such an idea-’

‘Then you knew more than I did,’ snapped Fidelma. ‘But I do not work without evidence. Brocc would try and condemn a person without evidence. That is not how the laws of the Brehons work.’

Goll bent forward eagerly. ‘Exactly. I went to find the evidence.’

‘And did you?’

Goll shook his head reluctantly.

‘From what I saw, I thought you were following your son, Gabrán,’ observed Eadulf.

‘Gabrán was on the hill, it is true. I thought the tall stranger was following him but he turned aside into a cave.’

‘So you simply decided to follow the stranger to see if he would reveal anything to you. And did he?’

‘Only that he seemed involved with Gobnuid the smith and they were interested in the old cave. It used to be an old mine working but it’s long since been abandoned.’

Fidelma stood up suddenly. ‘Thank you, Goll. But if there is any further investigation to be done, leave it to us.’

Fidelma decided that they should return to the fortress immediately in case there was any news of Accobrán’s pursuit party.

There was. When they rode in they could see several horses were mingling in the courtyard and one of the warriors at the gate hailed them to say that Accobrán and his men had returned in good spirits. Fidelma and Eadulf made their way immediately to the chieftain’s great hall.

Becc was sitting back smiling in his chair of office while to one side Accobrán was poised as if halfway through some story. Adag was there as well with several members of the chieftain’s retinue. They glanced up as Fidelma and Eadulf entered. Accobrán smiled broadly.

‘It is good to see you safe and well, Fidelma of Cashel. We heard that you had been hidden in Suanach’s sousterrain during the raid. We examined it on our return but guessed that you had escaped the flames. Becc has now told us of your escape.’

Fidelma inclined her head in brief acknowledgement. ‘And Suanach? Is she safe?’

‘Safe and well and with Menma in the forus tuaithe.’

The ‘house of the territory’ was the name given to the building for the reception and treatment of the old, sick and injured.

‘Don’t be alarmed, cousin,’ Becc said quickly, seeing the expression on her face. ‘The girl is merely exhausted and a little shocked by the experience. She was anxious for your safety.’

‘I would have no safety had it not been for her,’ admitted Fidelma. ‘The Uí Fidgente would not have treated one of our family well. I will see her in a moment. But. Accobrán, I seem to have interrupted you in the telling of your story. How did you fare in the pursuit and what prisoners have you taken?’

Accobrán shifted his weight and smiled wanly. ‘I was saying that it was a good thing that we had Menma along with us as our tracker. The Uí Fidgente were devious. We could have lost their trail several times, but Menma was equal to the task.’

The tanist paused while Fidelma seated herself, and when Eadulf had done the same he went on with the story.

‘We set off in pursuit at the time you returned to alert Becc,’ he began again, initially speaking to Eadulf. ‘It was dark by then and so we soon had to halt as we could see nothing. We waited until first light and then moved on again. The first part of the trek was easy as it lay through muddy woods. It seemed their leader knew what he was about because he soon took to the rivers and stony ground, which made tracking almost impossible. At least the dark had forced the Uí Fidgente to halt for the night as well. As I say, only Menma was able to keep us on their trail.’

‘Did you get the impression that they were part of a larger body?’ interrupted Eadulf. ‘Were they were trying to link up with a real invasion force?’

Accobrán shook his head. ‘There were ten of them all told. We came on them just before midday when they thought they had shaken us off and had paused to rest. In their confidence that we were far behind, their leader was not clever. I placed my men in ambush positions.’

‘Good,’ Fidelma said approvingly. ‘So you were able to take all of them prisoners?’

Accobrán dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment and made a dismissive motion. ‘I am afraid I did not. Thanks be, however, Suanach was not injured in the fight which developed…’

Fidelma was frowning.

‘How many did you capture?’ she said quietly.

‘None.’

‘Not one of the ten was captured?’ she cried, aghast. ‘Not one of them injured?’

Accobrán was defensive. ‘In battle, lady, it often happens.’

‘It does,’ agreed Becc amiably. ‘I think that Accobrán has done well to bring Suanach home safely. One of Abbot Brogán’s brethren is leaving this afternoon for Cashel and then will proceed to Imleach. He will take news of this matter to the king and doubtless Colgú will know what to do. Compensation must be forthcoming from the Uí Fidgente, and especially for Menma for the loss of his home and the insult to his wife. In the meanwhile, Menma may rely on the Cinél na Áeda to help rebuild his bothán.’

‘It shall be so ordered, Becc.’ Adag, the steward, nodded with satisfaction.

‘With your permission then, my chieftain, I will wash the dirt from my body and take some refreshment before going to my rest,’ the tanist said, preparing to leave.

‘One question!’ Fidelma’s quiet tone stayed them as they were about to disperse. Everyone turned and looked expectantly at her. ‘Did you discover the purpose of this Uí Fidgente raid?’

‘Does it need a purpose?’ queried Accobrán in amusement. ‘They say that all the Uí Fidgente are cattle thieves and plunderers.’

‘Does it not strike anyone that this is a long way to come in search of plunder — just ten men, passing through the lands of many rich clans before they reached here?’

No one responded. Fidelma tapped her foot impatiently.

‘Does no one have an explanation to offer?’

Eadulf turned to her and opened his mouth but the look he received from her caused him to snap his jaw shut. He was about to point out that she had heard the Uí Fidgente discussing why they had come and for a moment he had not realised what she was doing. He had almost given away her intention to prise information from Accobrán.

‘It is a pity that you took no prisoners in order to find out the reason behind the raid, Accobrán. You heard nor saw nor found anything to give you an answer to that question?’

‘Nothing, lady,’ vowed the tanist earnestly.

‘Don’t forget that Suanach was in their company for a long time. Perhaps she has some knowledge,’ Becc pointed out.

‘Then I must ask Suanach,’ Fidelma said softly.

‘An excellent idea,’ Becc approved. ‘And now let us allow Accobrán to rest and refresh himself after his exertions.’

When they were alone, Eadulf glanced apologetically to Fidelma. ‘Why keep silent about what you overheard the Uí Fidgente say?’

‘Come, let us speak with Suanach,’ she said, without replying to his question.

The girl was sitting up having a bowl of broth with Menma at her side. They both smiled broadly as Fidelma and Eadulf entered.

‘Well, this is a reversal of fortunes,’ Fidelma greeted them. ‘I seem to remember that last time it was I who was in bed being fed broth by you, Suanach. Are you injured?’

‘No, lady. I am only a little tired for I have not slept this last night.’

‘Then I am afraid that there is a question that I must ask of you, and of you, Menma, before I leave you to rest.’

‘Ask away,’ invited the young hunter.

‘I will ask you first, Suanach. During the time that you were the captive of the Uí Fidgente, did they speak of the reason behind the raid?’

Suanach placed her bowl of broth on a bedside table and clasped her hands before her. She considered the question thoughtfully.

‘One of them…no one mentioned any names…told someone to make sure that a trail was left so that Menma could follow them without difficulty.’

‘They mentioned Menma’s name?’ interposed Eadulf quickly, confirming what Fidelma has already told him. ‘They wanted Menma to follow?’

She nodded assent.

‘Did they say for what purpose?’

‘They wanted to capture him and ask him some questions.’

Fidelma turned to Menma with eyebrows raised in interrogation. The hunter shrugged before she said anything.

‘I have no idea what they could want. I have neither friends nor enemies among the Uí Fidgente. I have been to their lands neither in peace nor in war. Why they would come hither to attack me, burn my home and kidnap my wife to lure me after them, I cannot begin to understand.’

‘I heard snatches of conversation as we rode along.’ They turned to Suanach who had spoken and waited expectantly. She went on: ‘Nothing made any sense at all. One of the men mentioned something about a ship’s captain. Something about the cargo at the house of Molaga. Then something about enough gold to finance a kingdom.’

Fidelma left out a soft breath. ‘You say that these were snatches of conversation?’

‘I can tell you no more than what I have said. I heard no more that made any sense.’

Fidelma turned to Menma. ‘Does this make any sense to you?’

The hunter shook his head.

‘Would it make any sense if I mentioned that the Uí Fidgente wanted to question you about the Thicket of Pigs?’ added Fidelma. ‘I, myself, overheard this.’

Menma’s astonishment was not feigned. ‘I do not understand it, Sister. What could I tell them that would be of value to them? Riches? Well, Brother Eadulf here will confirm that it was only yesterday that we discovered the old mine was being worked again.’

Fidelma turned back to Suanach. ‘Was gold mentioned at all?’

She shook her head. ‘Nothing more was mentioned in my hearing than what I have said.’

Fidelma tuned to Menma. ‘Do you have any cause to go to the house of Molaga and speak with the merchants or captains of ships that put in there?’

‘Now and again,’ he admitted. ‘I am known only as a hunter in these forests. I knew nothing about the working of the mine until yesterday so if you are saying that I mentioned it to some merchant who then told these Uí Fidgente…’

‘I am not saying that,’ replied Fidelma. ‘I am not sure of the connection yet. There is something else which worries me. Accobrán says that the raiding party’s tracks were hard to follow. Suanach hears one of them telling his men to make it easy for Menma to track them. The idea was to be able to capture you. These two views do not balance each other.’

Menma looked genuinely puzzled.

‘Their tracks were easy enough to see. I suppose the tanist would like to make the chase sound more arduous and exciting than it was. We came on two sentinels waiting for us but Accobrán had them shot before they could raise an alarm.’

Fidelma said nothing for a moment and then: ‘We will leave you for a while. I would not mention anything of this conversation to anyone.’

‘Accobrán has already asked if I had overheard anything about the purpose of the raid,’ Suanach said.

‘And did you tell him what you told me?’

‘I was tired and not thinking. It is only now that you have asked me that those snatches of conversation have come back to me.’

Fidelma compressed her lips a moment. ‘In which case, I would say nothing further to anyone about this matter until I ask you.’

‘I do not understand. Sister, but I…we…will do as you ask. Is it not so. Menma?’

Her husband nodded a little morosely.

‘Then we will leave you in peace for the time being.’ Fidelma hesitated a moment. ‘Tell me, Menma, did you ever attend when old Liag was giving instruction in star lore?’

‘Of course, when I was younger. So did Suanach.’

‘Beccnat, Escrach and Ballgel also attended, I am told.’

‘Indeed, but not in my day. They were all far younger than I was.’

‘I think most people of the Cinél na Áeda learnt the ancient tales at the feet of old Liag,’ added Suanach. ‘He appears unfriendly and eccentric but he is really a nice old man.’

‘Even our fierce tanist used to attend,’ added Menma.

‘And these tales of Liag’s — were they no more than the folk stories associated with the ancient beliefs of what the moon and stars represented?’

‘Of course. Liag was very particular,’ Suanach replied at once. ‘He used to tell us that knowledge was power and to know the hidden names was to possess a very dangerous knowledge…’

She broke off and Fidelma was just quick enough to see a warning glance from Menma. She turned back to the door.

‘Thank you, Suanach. A special thanks for what you did for me. I am beholden to you. The Uí Fidgente are enemies of my blood and there is no need for me to say-’

‘No need,’ interrupted Suanach with an answering smile.

Outside, Eadulf was still puzzled. ‘What was all that about? Surely the raiders were not looking for this gold mine…?’

Fidelma turned to him and placed a finger to her lips. ‘No word of the cave to anyone yet, Eadulf.’

At that moment the door opened behind them and Menma came out, drawing it shut. He looked troubled.

‘I wanted to add something, lady,’ he said quietly. ‘I did not want Suanach to hear.’

They looked at the young hunter expectantly.

‘You realise that Accobrán took no prisoners from the Uí Fidgente?’

‘Indeed,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘I found that something hard to understand.’

Menma inclined his head. ‘Accobrán had the bloodmist on him.’

It was an old term meaning to lose all sense in battle. The old storytellers told how the mythical hero Cúchullain could be engulfed by a battle frenzy when fighting and become possessed of what was known as the ríastrad, such a fury, such a battle madness, that he might slaughter friend as well as foe. The word literally meant an act of contorting but had become applied to the loss of control that a warrior might suffer in a battle fever.

Fidelma gazed at Menma in surprise. ‘You mean that prisoners could have been taken from the Uí Fidgente?’

‘I mean just that, lady. I have not seen a man in the grip of the bloodmist before. He killed three of the Uí Fidgente while they were attempting to surrender.’

‘Thank you, Menma.’

The young man nodded and returned to join his wife.

Fidelma was quiet for a moment while Eadulf waited for her to comment.

‘It is not a good sign for a tanist to lose control in battle. Yet often one hears of warriors doing so, for battle is a terrible experience.’

‘But this was no battle,’ pointed out Eadulf. ‘To surround and capture less than a dozen men is not a task that should provoke such a condition in a trained warrior.’

‘We must bear that in mind,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘Becc should be made aware of the fault, as should his derbfhine if Accobrán is to succeed to the chieftainship. Now where were we? Ah yes, no mention of the cave to anyone unless I say so.’

‘Very well. But between you and me, what does it mean? Why would the Uí Fidgente be searching for that mine? They could not hope to work it and precious little gold would they be able to take before being discovered. I find nothing here that makes any sense at all.’

‘You are right, Eadulf. But we do not have all the facts as yet. Just a few major pieces are beginning to come together, though I believe that I begin to see some sort of pattern emerging.’

‘More than I do,’ sighed Eadulf.

‘Let us have something to eat. Then we will have to confront Brother Dangila and finally go in search of the wily Liag.’

Eadulf was in agreement. ‘I understand the path we are going to tread with Brother Dangila but, frankly, little else.’

After their meal they were riding along the track to the abbey of the Blessed Finnbarr when a small boy nearly ran across their path, causing them to rein in sharply. The boy was Síoda.

‘Hello, Sister.’ The boy halted and greeted Fidelma with a grin of recognition.

‘The very person I wanted to see.’ Fidelma smiled down at him. ‘How would you like to earn a screpall?’

The boy was definitely interested but regarded her with some suspicion.

‘What do I have to do?’ he asked dubiously.

She reached into her marsupium and pulled out the coin and held it up. ‘Answer a question. Do you remember telling us about that piece of gold that you found?’

The boy pouted. ‘The fool’s gold?’

‘I think that you told us that you found it on the hill near the Ring of Pigs?’

The boy nodded.

‘But Gobnuid said it was fool’s gold,’ he said.

‘He did,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘Can you be more precise as to where you found it? Was it in the cave that stands at the top of the hill, just above the Ring of Pigs?’

‘It was not,’ the boy replied.

Fidelma was disappointed. ‘Where was it, then?’

‘On the track. A little way down the old track that runs towards the abbey and past the Ring of Pigs.’ The boy glanced round surreptitiously. ‘Do not tell my parents that I was playing by the Ring of Pigs. I am not supposed to.’

‘On the track to the abbey?’ mused Fidelma.

‘Are you sure of the place?’ demanded Eadulf.

‘It was where the track passes the old rocks.’ The boy was scornful. ‘I know it well enough. It was where I saw Accobrán shouting at Beccnat back in the summer. That was when I found the nugget.’

Fidelma stared hard at the boy.

‘The place where you saw Accobrán shouting at Beccnat?’ she repeated slowly. ‘What was he shouting about?’

The boy shrugged indifferently. ‘You know the way grown-ups are. One minute shouting, the next minute being all sloppy and kissing.’

‘They were kissing?’

‘I said so, didn’t I?’

‘And you are sure about the place?’ Fidelma pressed him. ‘And the time? Summer, you said. Was it about the feast of Lughnasa?’

‘I have said so.’

‘Did you tell Gobnuid where you found the gold?’

The boy shook his head. ‘The fool’s gold? Not exactly.’

‘What do you mean — not exactly?’

‘Well, when I thought it valuable, I did not want to let on about the place just in case Gobnuid went there and found any other pieces. I told him it was further down the hill, nearer the abbey.’

Fidelma smiled and handed the coin to the boy. ‘You have no need to tell anyone of this conversation, Síoda.’

The boy grinned and tossed the coin into the air.

‘What conversation, Sister?’ he chuckled. Then he turned and ran off into the woods.

Eadulf regarded Fidelma with a degree of bewilderment. ‘Does that help?’

‘It shows that Gobnuid was not told of the real location of the boy’s find. His knowledge of the cave came from other means. And it shows that Gabrán was right — something was going on between Beccnat and our handsome, bloodthirsty tanist. And it places them together at the spot where Beccnat was found and around the time she was killed.’

Eadulf was startled. ‘Do you mean that Accobrán killed Beccnat?’

‘We still do not have enough information. But everything helps when you are struggling to find a path in the darkness, Eadulf,’ replied Fidelma solemnly.

Eadulf sighed impatiently.

‘How do you even know whether such a path exists?’ he asked in exasperation. ‘I confess that I am less certain of things now than I was when we first came here. To begin with, we were confronted with the murders of three girls. Each killed at the full of the moon. Obviously it was the work of a lunatic, a maniac. Then we were sidetracked by the murder of Lesren by his wife. In a way, it did seem logical in that Lesren’s killing was remotely connected with the murders. But now, with this raid by the Uí Fidgente and gold mines and so on…well, I haven’t a clue what is going on.’

‘I believe that our next port of call will put some of the pieces together,’ she said.

‘Brother Dangila?’

Fidelma inclined her head.

When they reached the abbey of Finnbarr Fidelma espied a familiar figure about to leave on horseback. She halted her horse and waited for the man to approach.

‘Brother Túan, isn’t it?’

The owlish-faced religieux halted and greeted her with a smile. ‘Sister Fidelma. How go your inquiries?’

‘I am encountering difficulties,’ she confessed. Then, indicating Brother Eadulf, she introduced him.

‘I have heard of Brother Eadulf the Saxon,’ acknowledged the steward of the house of Molaga with a smile of greeting. Then he turned quickly back to Fidelma. ‘So you are finding the path difficult?’

The corners of her mouth turned down a little in a wry expression. ‘My mentor, the Brehon Morann, always said one should beware the easy path for there is more deception on the path that appears simple than on the path that appears difficult.’

‘Doubtless, there is truth in that,’ acknowledged Brother Túan solemnly.

‘Speaking of paths, I am glad, however, that our paths have crossed again. You remember what we were speaking of last time we met?’

The round-faced man nodded mournfully.

‘Remembrance does not make the facts better,’ he said. ‘Death before its time is a bad visitor.’

‘You implied that it was Accobrán who encouraged the three strangers to leave the house of Molaga and come to the abbey of Finnbarr.’

Brother Túan nodded. ‘I am glad that you said I implied it for it is true that I could not swear it as a fact. Accobrán left shortly after the feast of Lughnasa and returned here. The three strangers came here soon afterwards.’

‘But you say that Accobrán did talk with them while he was visiting your abbey?’

‘He did.’

‘Do you know what their conversation was about?’

Brother Túan smiled wanly. ‘I was not privy to all their conversations and the only one that I overheard was innocuous enough. That was why I could only suggest that it might have had something to do with their removing themselves from Molaga to come here.’

‘What was it that you did overhear?’

‘It was innocuous, as I have said. One of the strangers was telling Accobrán about the country that they came from and what he had done before joining the religious, that sort of thing.’

‘Accobrán speaks some Greek, as I understand? And the conversation was carried on in Greek?’

Brother Túan confirmed it. ‘Accobrán studied at the house of Molaga and has a rudimentary grasp of the language. Indeed, it was the only language that we initially had in common with the strangers. I am sure I have mentioned that fact. I tried to teach them a little of our own tongue.’

‘Do you remember what Accobrán was doing in the seaport at that time?’

The steward rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘I think he was conducting some trade on behalf of the Cinél na Áeda. He was looking for a ship to transport some goods. Hides, I think.’

‘So he spent some time down on the quays among the merchants?’

‘I suppose he did.’

‘Sea trading is essential to the life of the house of Molaga. I don’t suppose you remember what sort of ships put into the port at that time?’

Brother Túan chuckled ruefully. ‘It would be a miracle if I did. There is quite a lot of trade that goes through the port at that time of year. In the summer months, especially at Lughnasa, sometimes ships have to wait outside the harbour until there is space to come in and unload or take on cargo. As steward I do make a note of ships that trade with us.’

Fidelma sighed softly. She had realised that it would not be easy but she had been hoping. Brother Túan regarded her disappointment with amusement.

‘I am sorry if I cannot help. Truth to tell, of all those ships in and out of the port at that time I can only be sure of one. It was taking a cargo for the house of Molaga up to the abbey at Eas Geiphtine.’

Fidelma suddenly stiffened. ‘To the abbey at Geiphtine’s Waterfall? That’s on a narrow creek of the River Sionnain. That is in Uí Fidgente country, isn’t it?’

The steward seemed surprised that she knew the whereabouts of the abbey.

‘The Uí Fidgente are not without religion,’ he admonished her, misunderstanding her emphasis. ‘We often communicate with the abbey there. I know Brother Coccán, who is head of the community, very well.’

‘I am especially interested in the fact that this trading ship might have left Molaga for a port in Uí Fidgente country at the time when Accobrán was there. Are you absolutely sure?’ she pressed.

Brother Túan was frowning, trying to understand her sudden interest.

‘I know for certain that we sent a cargo to Brother Coccán. It was, indeed, at the time when the tanist of the Cinél na Áeda was there. He was looking for a ship to transport a cargo of hides to Ard Mhór. It was the same time that he was talking to the strangers.’

‘Would you know if he spoke with the captain of this ship, the ship transporting a cargo to the abbey at Geiphtine?’

‘It is possible.’ Brother Túan examined her curiously. ‘But Geiphtine is in the opposite direction to Ard Mhóir. What is this about?’

Fidelma smiled and shook her head.

‘It is not for you to understand. It is for me to gather information and so long as you answer my questions honestly then there is nothing to worry about, Brother Túan,’ she said softly.

The steward gave an irritated sniff. ‘I am sure that I have no wish to pry into the affairs of a dálaigh.’

‘I am sure you do not.’ replied Fidelma gravely. ‘We do not have to hold you from your journey any longer. Thank you. Brother, for all the help you have given us.’

Brother Túan looked disconcerted for a moment and then shrugged. ‘Deus vobiscum.’ he muttered with a glance at them both and smacked his horse’s flanks with his heels. He rode away without waiting for them to reply.

Brother Eadulf was regarding his disappearing figure with an air of bewilderment.

‘Are you now trying to discover whether Accobrán was responsible for bringing the Uí Fidgente raiders into this territory?’ he asked Fidelma after a moment or two.

‘I already know that Accobrán was responsible, directly or indirectly,’ Fidelma assured him. ‘What I did not know until just now was the manner in which information reached the Uí Fidgente.’

‘What information?’

Fidelma heaved a short sigh of impatience. ‘The information about the Thicket of Pigs, of course.’

‘You don’t mean that the raid was something to do with the gold, do you?’

‘I believe it had everything to do with the gold. But we must not let ourselves run before we walk. Ah, here is Brother Solam,’ she said, spying the approaching fair-headed young steward. ‘Now we will find Brother Dangila.’

A short time passed before the tall, dark figure of Brother Dangila joined them in the abbey garden and bowed gravely to each of them before accepting the invitation to seat himself on a bench before them. They had already taken seats beneath the apple tree in the courtyard for it was a warm day of late October and the sun shone out of a cloudless sky.

‘I am told that you wish to speak to me again, Sister,’ Brother Dangila said in his musical Greek.

‘I do. How do you know Liag the apothecary?’

The man’s face was impassive. He hesitated before responding.

‘He is an old soul. I am sure his lives on this earth have been many,’ the Aksumite finally replied. ‘Perhaps we have encountered one another in a past life and past age.’

Fidelma made a quick, impatient gesture with her hand. ‘Stick to this life, this time and this place.’

Brother Dangila looked steadily at her. ‘Then in this life, at this time and in this place, I met Liag when I was out contemplating the great work of the heavens. It was an interest that we both shared. I have already told you that my comrades and I are fascinated by star lore. That is the reason why we came here, as I told you. We came to see the manuscripts of Aibhistin.’

‘The only reason why you came here?’ Fidelma said with emphasis.

For the first time a slight look of uncertainty crossed the man’s bland features. He did not reply immediately.

‘You told me that you had worked in the mines of your country before you became a religieux,’ Fidelma pointed out. ‘The gold mines.’

Brother Dangila gave a long sigh. ‘You are very astute, Sister.’

‘Leaving mining aside for the moment,’ Fidelma went on, much to the bewilderment of Eadulf, who was trying to follow her line of questions, ‘let me turn to another matter.’

‘Which is?’ asked Brother Dangila in mild surprise.

‘Were you ever asked to instruct any pupils of Liag?’

‘You mean those young ones who went to hear his teachings on star lore?’

‘That is precisely what I mean.’

‘I think you already know the answer. One young one, a girl, came seeking knowledge.’

‘Her name?’

‘I find your native names impossible to remember.’

‘In what language did you communicate, then?’ Eadulf interrupted. ‘We are speaking to you in Greek since we share no other fluency.’

‘I have said that I have some imperfect knowledge of your tongue. When the girl made clear what it was she wanted I was able to make her understand that I could not help her. We had not sufficient vocabulary between us for anything further.’

‘In what language did you communicate with Liag?’ asked Fidelma.

‘The old one knows Greek. You must have known that?’

Fidelma shook her head. ‘I did not. Yet it does not surprise me. Tell me, does the name Escrach mean anything to you?’

Brother Dangila shook his head.

‘Did you ever see the girl who came to you to ask about star lore later? Say, on the night of the full moon last month?’

‘I did not.’

‘But that night of the full moon you were out on the hill.’ She gestured towards the Thicket of Pigs. ‘You were out with Accobrán.’ It was a statement, not a question.

Brother Dangila returned her gaze but did not say anything.

‘You realise that your involvement with Accobrán will have to be made public?’ she asked.

‘What is to be, must be. If I have transgressed your laws, then I am truly sorry, but I did not, nor did my companions, kill the girl or any other girl, as some of your people claim.’

Fidelma rose to her feet. ‘I will inform you and your companions when the official hearing into this matter will be. Until then, I would once again advise — indeed, would urge — you not to leave the shelter of these abbey walls.’

Riding through the woods towards the riverbank, Eadulf was still confused.

‘This mystery is getting beyond me. In the past, I could at least see the path that we had to tread. But this is one confusion after another.’

Fidelma glanced at him and smiled quickly. ‘That is because we are faced with several mysteries rather than a single one. Yet, I believe, they intertwine one with another. I am confident that we are nearly at a solution.’

Surprisingly, they found Liag seated on a rock by the river with a fishing line in his hand. He barely turned his head as they rode up, dismounted, and tethered their horses to a low branch of a tree.

‘Speak quietly, lest you disturb the fish,’ he said as they came near.

‘Are you seeking the Salmon of Knowledge, Liag?’ Fidelma asked mischievously as she walked down to the bank and seated herself on a nearby boulder.

The old apothecary glanced up indifferently. ‘I will settle for a trout, for the salmon is a noble fish. Yet I fear that it is a certain dálaigh who is in need of the properties of Fintan.’

Eadulf, nor understanding the meaning of this repartee, felt excluded and demanded to know what they meant. Liag glanced over his shoulder and saw his bewilderment.

‘A shared culture, my Saxon friend. That is all. Fintan was a great salmon who ate of the forbidden Hazelnuts of Knowledge before swimming into a pool in a great river to the north of here named after the cow goddess, Boann. The Druid Finegas eventually caught the salmon. By eating of the flesh of the fish he would imbibe all the knowledge of the world. So he began to cook it. But Finegas, being lazy, decided to have a nap and told his young assistant, a boy called Fionn, son of Cumal, to turn the spit but forbade him to eat of the fish. Fionn accidentally burnt his thumb on the flesh of the fish as he was turning the spit. He sucked his thumb and acquired great wisdom and grew up to be the most heroic leader of the Fianna, the bodyguard of the High Kings.’

Eadulf greeted the tale with a sniff of disapproval.

‘It is no folk tale that we are interested in,’ he snapped.

Liag glanced at Fidelma.

‘Is it not?’ he asked gently.

‘In a way, it is,’ said Fidelma. ‘I have been interested to hear about your classes on folklore, the lore of the moon and stars.’

Liag nodded slowly. ‘I thought you might be. I have taught these things to many generations.’

‘Is it true that all three of the girls who were slaughtered attended your teachings?’

‘Many others also attended.’

‘Others such as Accobrán?’

‘Indeed, Accobrán, Menma, Creoda, Gabrán and even their fathers before them. Others too numerous to count.’

‘I believe that you shared a common interest with Brother Dangila? I had not realised that you spoke Greek.’

‘One of my calling has to speak many languages, Fidelma, as you yourself do.’

‘And your relationship with Brother Dangila?’

‘An intelligent man, a man of wisdom of his people. We meet and talk of the moon and stars, for these are the maps of civilisation. Man raised himself from the earth by looking at the sky and found that it could tell him many things. When to get up and work and when to go to bed and sleep. As he watched the rolling map of the heavens he saw that it could tell him how time passed, when the seasons came, when to sow his seed, when to harvest it, when to expect warmth and when to expect coldness, when the days were growing longer and when they were growing shorter…all these things are written irretrievably in the sky if we would but look up as our forefathers used to do.’

It was a long speech for the old apothecary.

‘So you shared this knowledge with Brother Dangila?’

‘Our knowledge was different for our place in this world was different and our culture was different.’

‘Did you tell Escrach to seek him out?’

Liag paused thoughtfully. ‘Escrach was a promising pupil. She must not be judged by a comparison with her uncle Brocc. I did not advise her to seek out Dangila but I mentioned some of the wondrous things he knew. She went of her own accord. I was hoping that one day she would go to one of the secular colleges and be taught by-’

‘By Druids?’ Eadulf broke in disapprovingly.

Liag glanced at him with a smile. ‘One who holds my beliefs is not going to recommend a school of the New Faith where the mind is limited to that which is pleasing only to narrow teaching. Escrach needed to spread herself into the wider world.’

‘She could not communicate properly with Brother Dangila.’

‘I was surprised when she told me that she had attempted to talk to Dangila.’

Fidelma looked quickly at him. ‘You mean that she saw him and then she saw you afterwards?’

‘Did I not make myself clear?’

‘In relation to the day she died, when was this?’

‘Several days before the full moon, if that is what you are asking. No, Dangila did not kill her. She told me that she had been walking and saw Brother Dangila. She took the opportunity to approach him and attempt to ask him if he could expound on her knowledge of the moon’s properties. Questions such as how the moon could move the great seas, the pounding tides along our coasts. She wanted to know. They had not sufficient common language to communicate such matters.’

‘And she came and told you this some days before she was found dead?’

‘That is so. I promised her that soon I would approach Dangila and bring him to our little group so that he might explain his views to all of us. I would be his translator.’

‘Did she agree?’

‘Of course. Some of the others were unhappy with the idea of inviting Dangila to our circle. They were afraid of him.’

‘Of whom was your group constituted then?’

‘Ballgel, Escrach, Gabrán and Creoda. I think I had made a mistake in overemphasising the power of knowledge to them. That our words for the moon and its manifestations as goddess and arbiter of our destinies belonged to us and not to outsiders. What I had meant was that the power to pronounce the names and contact the power directly belonged to the cognoscenti of all peoples. They had taken my meaning to be that it was a special preserve of the Cinél na Áeda. They voiced their resentment of any involvement in our group by Dangila.’

‘I believe that Accobrán had been one of your group? You do not mention him. What was his view?’ asked Fidelma.

‘Accobrán was-’

The sound of a horn blast cut through the air in a long and almost plaintive tone. It came again, sounding more urgently. Puzzled, Fidelma raised her head.

‘The sound came from Rath Raithlen,’ muttered Eadulf apprehensively, glancing towards the hill which was obscured by the trees. ‘What does it mean?’

‘It is the sound of an alarm,’ old Liag said, rising calmly and hauling in his fishing line. ‘I have not heard it in many a year. Usually, it is blown to summon people to the fortress as the territory is under attack.’

Eadulf sprang to his feet. ‘Uí Fidgente. I wager a screpall on it.’

Liag’s face was grim as he turned towards his bothán. ‘I fear that you will find no takers for that wager. After the raid of yesterday, retribution for Accobrán’s enthusiasm may well be the result.’

Fidelma was already mounting her horse with Eadulf following her example.

‘We’ll return to the rath. An attack by the Uí Fidgente might well be an opportune event for some here,’ she said to the old apothecary.

‘Let us hope that it is not a barrier to the course of truth,’ he called in reply as they rode off.