Behold a Pale Horse

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Outside the hall, as Kakko signalled to a bored-looking warrior to escort them back to their prison chamber, Fidelma took the opportunity to ask Eolann in their own language: ‘Did you see who that was?’

‘I did not recognise the man, why?’

‘That was the physician of Radoald, Lord of Trebbia.’

‘I didn’t notice. I have never met him but only seen him once from a distance.’ Brother Eolann sounded surprised. ‘What is he doing here? I would not have thought that Radoald had much in common with this Grasulf.’

Fidelma was thinking of the group that she had seen in the courtyard at Radoald’s fortress and of Suidur talking with the two tall men in black cloaks who might have been the attackers of Magister Ado. Now Suidur had appeared in the fortress of the Lord of Vars. What could be the connection?

‘I have an idea,’ she began, but they were already at the chamber door. However, instead of allowing them both to enter, the guard pointed to Fidelma to go through and then shut the door behind her. She found a lamp had been lit already for her. She then heard the guard say something roughly to Brother Eolann and a door banged nearby. She stood inside the roomfor a moment. Now the matter would have to wait until the next day when she and Brother Eolann would be allowed back to Grasulf ’s scriptorium where they could talk freely.

She was turning towards the bed when Eolann’s voice came clearly from somewhere nearby: ‘Can you hear me, lady?’

She swung round. She could see nothing.

‘I hear you,’ she replied. ‘Where are you?’

‘There is a grille in this wall. I think it connects with your chamber. I am in the next chamber to yours.’

The voice did seem to come from a wall. She caught sight of a small grille in it just above head-level.

‘I see the grille.’

‘Good. They have separated us but we can still talk.’

‘That we can,’ she agreed.

‘You mentioned that you had an idea,’ prompted Brother Eolann.

‘My idea?’ Fidelma went to the wall and leaned against it, just under the grille. ‘Why to escape, of course.’

There was a silence from Brother Eolann before he spoke again. ‘You’ll forgive me, lady, but I had that idea the moment we were taken prisoner on Mount Pénas. However, there is no escape from here and if you are thinking of escape from the scriptorium, well, as the steward said, it seems that the only way to achieve that is if we could fly.’

‘Or if we could climb,’ replied Fidelma pointedly.

She heard Brother Eolann gasp. ‘How do you mean? Climb where?’

‘You believe yourself to be a good climber, don’t you? I saw so myself when we climbed under the difficult overhang on Mount Pénas.’

‘A slope is different from a vertical cliff face. Climbing down there is impossible.’

‘Why so?’

‘Firstly, we are locked in here. It is only during daylight hours that we will be allowed into the library, so someone would see us even if we were crazy enough to begin the descent. To escape we need to take a little more than we stand up in, especially once we have succeeded in the miracle of getting down into the valley. So how do you convince Kakko to allow us to take our bags to the library? And what if we did reach the valley floor? There is a small township down there and if no warriors are waiting for us at the bottom, then there will be people.’

Fidelma considered the matter for a moment. ‘You have raised some good objections, Brother Eolann. But it is better to take the opportunity than do nothing. I say that it could be done. It looks impossible from the centre of the terrace where you have a sheer drop. That is where they throw their condemned prisoners from. But I also looked at the corners, especially where part of the wall of the library seems to overhang. It doesn’t. It balances on a thrust of rock — and from what I saw, one could scramble with ease to the underside of that stonework. The rockface has more handholds and has a more gradual slope.’

There was quiet from the grille. Then Brother Eolann whispered, ‘One thing I will grant you, lady; you do have the blood of the Eóghanacht in you. A fighting race. But that is about all. I think such a plan is ridiculous. You cannot see the rockface all the way down from the terrace. You may easily get stuck halfway down.’

‘I shall try to investigate it more closely tomorrow. If it looks as though it can be done, then I am determined to do it, ridiculous or not,’ she said decisively.

‘And what about the other problems, such as transportingour bags to the library, getting food for the journey, planning a route which will bring us unobserved to Mount Pénas, let alone over it and back to Bobium — what of those little problems? There is no way of escaping. We have to resign ourselves to it.’

‘Pity the man drowned in the tempest, for after the rain comes the sunshine,’ snapped Fidelma, using an ancient saying of her people to chide those who advocated inaction. ‘I am determined on my course. The sea does not wait for the ship to load its cargo. The ship must be ready to catch the tide.’

Brother Eolann did not respond.

It was some time before Fidelma closed her eyes and fell asleep.

She came awake with the sound of the wooden bar being removed at the chamber door. She swung swiftly from the bed. The room was curiously bright as the moon was full and shining directly into it.

A tall figure stood in the doorway with a lamp whose flame was partially concealed by his hand.

‘Suidur!’ she gasped, recognising the figure. ‘What do you want?’

‘Silently does it, lady,’ came his sibilant tone. ‘What I want is for you to get dressed and fetch your belongings. Quickly now.’

‘Do you mean me harm? If so, I shall not stir.’

‘No harm is meant to you, lady. At the moment, I am the only means you have of escape from the Lord of Vars’s fortress, so hurry. Every moment’s delay means discovery.’

Fidelma blinked in surprise. ‘Where …?’ she began.

‘Grasulf and Kakko are in a drunken stupor,’ he whispered. ‘Of course, that being thanks to the help of a little potion ofmine as well as their propensity for strong drink. But we do not have long. Have you something to cover your head?’

She hesitated a moment, wondering whether she should trust him. What did old Brehon Morann once tell her? Catch the pig by the leg when you can.

‘Very well,’ she said decisively. ‘Is Brother Eolann coming?’

‘Of course, lady. He is already here and waiting.’

‘Then I shall do what you say.’

Suidur stood just inside the door as if keeping sentinel over the courtyard. Within moments, Fidelma had joined Brother Eolann who was already dressed and had his bag slung on his back. Suidur, still holding a lamp, whispered: ‘Keep close.’ Then he raised a forefinger to his lips.

Although filled with numerous questions and anxiety, Fidelma uttered no word but followed the white-haired physician across the courtyard, conscious of Brother Eolann at her shoulder. The gates were shut. However, with an attitude of assurance, Suidur went to where one of the guards was sitting on the ground, nodding sleepily. The man suddenly became aware of Suidur standing over him and scrambled to his feet.

‘A bad thing if Grasulf caught you asleep at his door,’ Suidur told him sternly.

The guard looked around fearfully as if expecting the Lord of Vars to appear.

‘I was not really asleep, master. You would not tell …?’

‘Only if you move quickly and open the gate for my companions and me. We are late already and must hasten on an errand for the Lord of Vars.’

The gatekeeper, to Fidelma’s amazement, hurried to the task, almost bowing as they passed silently through.

Outside, as she remembered it, the track began to wind steeply down the curiously shaped thrust of rock on whichthe fortress of the Lord of Vars balanced. Suidur, who had extinguished his lamp for the full moon was adequate light for them, walked swiftly down the track without speaking. They hurried behind him.

They finally came to the lower reaches where woodland started. From this dark band of trees, the figure of a warrior suddenly appeared on the path before them. Suidur did not pause but called out something softly, to which the man seemed to assent and waved. A second man emerged from the woods, leading three horses. Suidur turned to Fidelma and Brother Eolann. ‘I am afraid that you must ride double behind my men,’ he said. ‘I cannot get extra horses and we must be well away from here before first light.’

‘Can I ask why you are doing this?’ Fidelma inquired.

It was hard to see Suidur’s features in the shadows but it seemed that he spoke with irony. ‘Did you like being a guest of the Lord of Vars so much that you wanted to stay?’

‘Of course not, but-’

‘Then postpone your questions until we have put some distance between ourselves and this place. I want to get into the shelter of the mountains.’

The two warriors mounted their horses and then Fidelma and Brother Eolann were helped to swing up behind them. Suidur was already in the saddle and the three horses moved off quietly through the woods, skirting round the few lights that showed the extent of the settlement that spread under the fortress of the Lord of Vars. For a physician Suidur showed a surprising knowledge of how to trek quietly through the woods. The thought crossed Fidelma’s mind that perhaps the man had been a soldier before he became a physician.

She clung on to the rider before her, trying to make sense of the events that had transpired. Could these be the same menshe had seen speaking with Suidur in the fortress of Radoald? The same men who had witnessed Brother Eolann and herself being brought as prisoners to the fortress of the Lord of Vars? Suidur had appeared at Grasulf’s fortress and apparently been welcomed there. Why had he rescued her and Brother Eolann? It made no sense at all.

With the questions swimming in her mind they rode on, moving without speed, until the township was well behind them. They reached an open track which ran alongside a noisy gushing river. Fidelma noticed from the white frothy movement of the current that they were heading upstream into the mountains. By her reckoning, the mountain that they had come over, Mount Pénas, lay behind her left shoulder. But it was still a long way from first light and although the sky was cloudless and the moon high and bright, she could not be sure.

It was now that Suidur raised his hand and gestured in a forward motion. The pace of the horses began to increase to a trot and then a canter. Fidelma had ridden almost before she had begun to walk and considered herself a capable horsewoman. The horse beneath her had certainly not been bred for the fields or for hauling carts. She felt the strong muscles as the beast stretched its powerful limbs beneath her. She knew instinctively that the rider was keeping it in check otherwise it would break into a full-scale gallop. This was a horse bred for warriors, a warhorse. She could not see in the darkness but she suspected it was of the singular breed that she had seen in the valley before.

There came a point when they began to climb so steeply that eventually the canter was slowed and fell back to a walking pace. By this time, a light glimmered in the eastern sky, indicating the coming dawn. Fidelma knew that they hadcrossed several streams. Perhaps they were crossing and recrossing the same watercourse? An attempt to throw off any trackers with hunting dogs?

It was not until the sun was pushing above the far eastern hills that she realised they had climbed a fair way into the mountains. It was then that Suidur pointed to a distant herder’s hut. At least, she assumed it was, because she could not think of anyone else who would dwell this high up in the mountains. Suidur did not make any explanation as they continued slowly towards the hut. Only when they reached it did he halt and announce: ‘Here we will rest.’

Fidelma slid from her perch, feeling remarkably alert for someone who had had so little sleep. Brother Eolann was stretching himself after the lengthy ride while the two warriors, for the dawn had revealed the two silent men to be such, had taken the horses to a small paddock behind the hut to rub them down and fodder them. Fidelma peered at the peaks that arose all about them before she said to Suidur: ‘We are nowhere near Mount Pénas.’

The physician smiled. ‘You are observant, lady. True, we have come further south. We have followed the Staffel River, and that high peak before us is the mountain on which it rises. It is said that the Carthaginian Hannibal climbed up it when he was resting his army in the Trebbia Valley on the far side.’

‘So we are not far from Bobium?’

‘No, not far. We will eventually cross the mountains almost opposite Radoald’s fortress, a little to the south. This way we may fool Grasulf, who may think you will head directly to Bobium and therefore send his men to stop you crossing Mount Pénas. I suggest that you and your companion get some sleep. We have only done a third of our journey, forboth the climb on this side and the descent into the Trebbia Valley are difficult. That mountain is the highest in this range and we will skirt it, going over via a lesser height and come on a trackway that will wind down to the Trebbia.’

Brother Eolann came forward, looking sleepy. ‘Gratias tibi ago,’ he said. ‘I do not know you although I have seen you from a distance. But Brother Hnikar speaks highly of your skills. I thank you for your timely intervention.’

‘Non est tanti,’ replied Suidur, dismissing his thanks with the traditional saying that it was nothing.

Fidelma, however, knew that there were questions to be asked, and the sooner the better. At least, with daylight, she could see that the two warriors who accompanied them were not the same men who had twice attacked Magister Ado — although they wore the same manner of clothing and emblem.

‘Why?’ she suddenly asked.

‘Why?’ repeated Suidur.

‘I do not understand why you put yourself into such danger to rescue us. You went to the Lord of Vars and seemed to be welcomed as a friend. You say that you drank with him and his steward and even placed some sleep-inducing potion in their drinks and then helped us escape from our prison. It occurs to me that I should ask the question — why?’

Suidur gazed thoughtfully at her. ‘Would it not be easier to have some rest first and then discuss this question at more leisure when we have eaten?’

Fidelma shook her head firmly. ‘I cannot rest with such questions swimming in my mind,’ she said simply.

‘Very well.’ Suidur went into the hut and motioned them inside. Fidelma was surprised to see ashes still glowing in a central hearth and within a few moments the physician had added more fuel and stirred it into a blaze. ‘This is one ofthe places Lord Radoald maintains to keep watch on his western borders.’

He motioned them to be seated. There were rugs and blankets which they arranged around the fire.

‘And now,’ Suidur said with a smile, ‘how did I come to the fortress of Grasulf? Last night I was visiting …’ he hesitated ‘ … shall we say a loyal servant of Lord Radoald. Oh yes, we have spies here. You may have deduced that Grasulf is a man of certain beliefs. One is a belief in gold. We have learned that Perctarit, the deposed King, has offered Grasulf gold for his allegiance. Once Grasulf has that gold, he will raise his people to attack his neighbours.’

‘It does not explain what you were doing in the fortress,’ pointed out Fidelma.

‘All in good time, lady. My men,’ he indicated the two warriors outside, ‘often go there, pretending to be in sympathy. You might have seen them before, because they were in the fortress when you arrived as prisoners. They alerted me when I came to make contact with my … my spy.’

‘I saw them,’ Fidelma agreed.

‘They recognised Brother Eolann and described you. I knew Lord Radoald would not want you to remain in the hands of Grasulf, who has been known to sell women to slavers. Leaving my men, with the horses, at the bottom of the hill, I went up to the fortress and sought entrance. It is not the first time that I had been an envoy between Radoald and Grasulf, therefore I was known at the fortress.

‘As you saw, Grasulf welcomed me, thinking I had arrived in this role and, naturally, I pretended that I had come with counter-proposals to pay for his allegiance. However, it was decided that we needed to prepare our negotiation in liquid form. Grasulf was most willing to do so; he had alreadydrunk much wine and it was easy to pour my potion into his drink. I also did the same with Kakko. My men had told me which chambers you had been placed in, and the rest was simple.’

It sounded simple. Perhaps too simple, Fidelma thought. Her mind was spinning with questions again.

‘And now,’ Suidur was saying, ‘since you have asked me for my story, lady, may I ask how you came to be prisoners in Grasulf’s fortress?’

She glanced quickly at Brother Eolann, hoping to warn him not to mention the finding of Lady Gunora’s body. No need to part with all the information until she knew how, or if, these matters related. However, Brother Eolann had sunk back and was breathing deeply. Suidur followed her glance, saying, ‘Our friend is asleep, as you should be.’

‘Then my story first, Suidur. Brother Eolann offered to take me to the sanctuary of Colm Bán on the peak of Mount Pénas — with the approval of Abbot Servillius, of course. When I return to Hibernia, my people will want to know all about the abbey. So, we climbed up the mountain and stayed the night at the sanctuary. Just when we were about to return to the abbey the next morning, Grasulf’s men appeared and took us captive to his fortress.’

‘You are a stranger in this land, Fidelma of Hibernia,’ Suidur said solemnly. ‘There are many things that are going to be unusual and even curious to a stranger’s perception. If I might offer some advice, I would return to your own land as soon as you can. There is an evil spreading through these mountains.’ Suddenly he stood up. ‘Now once more, I plead with you to rest. We shall move off at midday. We will not reach Radoald’s fortress until tomorrow, so we will have to spend tonight on the mountain.’

It was midday when Fidelma awoke. The sun stood high in a cloudless sky. Brother Eolann was also stirring but there was no sign of Suidur, although she could hear movement outside the hut. She rose quickly and looked out. Suidur was talking to the two warriors in the swift, guttural tones of the local language. Fidelma glanced back to the scriptor who was sitting up and blinking.

‘Brother Eolann,’ she whispered urgently, ‘a word of warning. Do not mention finding the body of Lady Gunora, nor anything about the coins or Wamba.’

Brother Eolann frowned. ‘Or anything about the missing prince?’

‘Exactly. Let us be circumspect.’

‘Ah, you are both awake.’ The shadow of Suidur had fallen across the doorway. ‘That is good. We must be on our way soon.’

‘A wash and some food would be appreciated before we set off again, if that is possible,’ Fidelma said.

‘There is a stream and a little waterfall behind this hut, lady,’ Suidur replied. ‘And there is something to eat before we set off.’

Fidelma took her ciorr bholg, her comb bag with her toiletries, and made her way to a sheltered spot at the back of the hut. The cold water was refreshing, splashing down the mountain to form both a pool and a shower. She hurried over her toilet so that Brother Eolann could follow her example. She presumed that Suidur and his men had already washed for they looked refreshed as if they had not ridden through the night. The meal was of goat’s cheese and fruit, washed down by the crystal waters of the mountain stream.

It turned out that the two warriors spoke no Latin and sothe conversation was limited to Suidur. Brother Eolann exchanged a few words with them but they gave the impression of preferring not to engage in conversation.

‘I think Radoald mentioned that his family would suffer if Perctarit returned as King,’ Fidelma commented, as they began to eat. ‘Is that why he is anxious about Grasulf?’

Suidur nodded. ‘Radoald’s father helped Grimoald to overthrow Perctarit, driving him into exile in the lands of the Franks. Radoald fought alongside his father, Lord Billo. His father did not return to Trebbia and Radoald became Lord. I doubt whether Perctarit will feel kindly towards Radoald if he returns to power in this land.’

‘When we were in Grasulf’s fortress a messenger rode in to say that Lupus had turned against Grimoald but had been destroyed with his army after four days of fighting somewhere. Is that bad?’

The physician studied her with keen interest.

‘For a stranger, lady, you have picked up much. We heard about this story too. The answer is that it might be bad for us, for it depends on what the Khagan will do next.’

‘The one who defeated Lupus?’

‘The same. It seems that Grimoald, unable to march north quickly enough to face Lupus, offered an alliance with the leader of the Avars. The Avars threw themselves against Lupus and defeated him. But what will the Khagan demand of Grimoald in return? Will the Avars flood into this land? If so, then God help every one of us. To the Avars we are all sheep ready to be shorn.’

‘I presume the Avars are not followers of the Faith?’

‘So far as I know they will follow any faith they believe helps them — from their chief god, Ts’ob, to various forms of our own Christ. But they are hungry for land and powerand, frankly, the news that Grimoald had formed an alliance with them is not pleasing to our people.’

‘You think these lands are in immediate danger?’ interposed Brother Eolann.

‘What is happening is setting brother against brother and neighbour against neighbour. The Pale Horse will be sweeping through these valleys soon and none will be spared.’

‘Pale Horse?’ queried Fidelma.

‘The rider is Death himself,’ replied Suidur. ‘That is why I offered my advice — leave this land while you can.’

Fidelma turned her gaze across the mountains to the north and the east and sighed. ‘It seems so peaceful and beautiful.’

‘Even from ancient times these valleys have been drenched in blood. The Ligurians, the Gauls, the Romans, the Carthaginians, then the Romans again and then my own people, the Longobards — they have all fertilised these beautiful valleys with their blood. It will be so again.’ Suidur stood up and appeared to be contemplating the prediction for a moment before turning to his men and snapping an order. They began to pack up and prepare the horses.

Seeing Suidur’s mount in daylight, Fidelma realised that her thoughts in the darkness had been right. It was of the same breed and colouring, the same pale grey, that she had seen several times in the valley. She had seen Wulfoald and Brother Faro mounted on this same short-backed animal with the narrow croup and long tail. It had certainly displayed a hardiness and stamina and galloped like a sprinter for all its fiery temperament. It was truly a warrior’s horse.

‘Is that Wulfoald’s horse?’ she asked Suidur, for the beast was so alike.

‘What makes you think that?’ the physician demanded, puzzled. Then he smiled. ‘Oh, I see. This is of the same breed.They were introduced in the valley only a decade ago and have flourished.’

‘I have never seen the breed before. They are light, sturdy animals.’

‘I see that you are a judge of horses, lady. Lord Billo, when he was Lord of Trebbia, bought half a dozen of them from a Byzantine merchant in Genua and bred them. We are not sure where they came from, although it was said that the merchant brought them from the east.’ Suidur paused abruptly and gazed intently towards the north.

‘You see something?’ asked Fidelma, aware of the slight tension in his body.

‘I do,’ replied the physician. ‘If seems that Grasulf was not long in recovering before raising the alarm.’

Fidelma stood and tried to follow his gaze across the valley. ‘What is it?’

‘About twenty-five horsemen following us. Don’t be alarmed, we are in no immediate danger.’

Brother Eolann was straining in the same direction now. ‘How far away?’ he demanded.

‘Oh, it will take them some time before they manage to climb up here,’ Suidur assured him.

Fidelma could now just make out a series of tiny dots at the far end of the valley. They were moving in line like a string of ants.

‘You have good vision, Suidur,’ she said. ‘I can barely see them. Is it Grasulf?’

‘No one else would be riding so hard. You might not be able to discern them well, but I think that is as it should be. We would not wish to see them any closer to us.’

He checked with his warriors that all was ready. Once more Fidelma and Brother Eolann took their bags and hoistedthem on their backs, before mounting behind the warriors. They set off at a walking pace, continuing along the track which wound at a steep incline up through the hills.

‘Don’t worry,’ Suidur called back. ‘I think even Grasulf will turn back once we are well inside the territory of Radoald.’

Fidelma realised that, although they continued to move steadily up sharp gradients, they were not actually climbing over the mountains but rather weaving their way through them. The tracks were often wide enough only for one horse to proceed at a time. And now and then the way was so steep that they had to dismount and lead the horses. It was, for her, an extraordinary experience. Once more the conditions meant there was little exchange of conversation. They moved on through the hot afternoon with Fidelma now and then casting an apprehensive glance behind. But they had circled through the mountains so much there was little prospect of seeing any pursuers. They stopped only once at a mountain spring to allow the horses to drink and to refresh themselves. It was not until nearly sunset that they came to a strange little dell, an area that seemed to be carved unnaturally into the hillside. Yet, as she inspected it closer, she saw that it was in fact a natural shelter with overhanging bushes.

‘This will be our last halt,’ Suidur explained. ‘We start down into the Trebbia Valley tomorrow.’

‘Will it be safe to halt here?’ asked a nervous Brother Eolann.

‘Grasulf for all his pagan beliefs does not have wings like his ravens,’ replied Suidur with a smile. ‘I am sure he will have given up the chase a long time ago.’

Before long, a fire was lit and food distributed and they curled themselves up with their blankets. The shelter was notas convenient as the previous one and there was no gushing spring with shower or pool. But a small trickling spring provided water for drinking and enough to splash the face and hands.

That night Fidelma didn’t bother pursuing any conversation but was asleep almost immediately.

At first she thought it just part of a dream. She became aware of whispering. She lay for a moment trying to struggle into full consciousness without opening her eyes or moving. To her amazement the voices were speaking in Latin, and while one of them was Suidur, she could not identify the other one.

‘ … dripping moisture hollows out a stone,’ Suidur was saying. ‘Grimoald acts far too quickly and as a result makes rash decisions. He should have waited.’

‘Now the magister is alert and we will never find it.’

‘There is still a chance, my lord. Grasulf will not move before he has the gold in his hand, that is for sure. My men and I went to his fortress pretending to make a counter-offer. He has certainly not been paid yet.’

‘And the foreigner and the scriptor? How do they stand in this matter?’

‘They are not involved. They had to be rescued. A pity, I might have found out more if I had stayed, but you know what Grasulf is like. He has no morals and would have used the girl as he thought fit or sold her to slavers. No, she had to be rescued from Vars.’

‘And you are sure that Lady Gunora was not a prisoner there?’

‘If the boy is right, Lady Gunora must be dead.’

Fidelma felt herself go cold listening to the exchange. ‘If Perctarit and his main force are at Mailand, then hismen would have to move quickly now,’ said the strange voice. ‘Once Grasulf is paid for his services, he can turn on Radoald, and once Radoald is destroyed, then the routes to Genua are wide open. While Perctarit occupies the entire plain of the Padus, his Frankish allies can land by ship at Genua and march with their supplies and reinforcements all the way to him.’

‘I agree that if anything is to happen, it must happen during the next day or so. We are still no nearer to knowing where the gold is or who will supply it. It may be that we were entirely wrong about the magister.’

‘You will be in the mountains?’

‘I will go to see my son first and inform him.’

Hearing receding footsteps, Fidelma allowed her eyes to flick open, but from where she lay she could see nothing. She heard a rustle nearby and closed her eyes again. Her thoughts were confused but while she tried to sort them out, sleep overcame her once again.

She awoke to a glorious dawn. The sky held a brilliant light which spread across the mountain-tops all around them. The air was still and fresh. The men removed themselves a little distance so that she could carry out her toilette, and food was ready when she returned.

‘Well, it will not be long before we reach the Trebbia, just below us,’ Suidur greeted her. ‘It’s a steep descent on this side of the mountains but better than a steep ascent.’

‘And no sign of Grasulf pursuing us?’

‘No sign at all. Didn’t I say that he would give up?’

‘Let us hope you are right.’

‘Are you still worried then?’

‘The Lord of Vars told me that an excess of caution does no harm. In fact, would it not be foolish to refuse caution?I am thinking that Grasulf would reason that we would eventually be heading to Bobium. Surely he could cross the mountains to the north of here and lie in wait for us in the valley somewhere between Radoald’s fortress and Bobium?’

‘I see you have a mind attuned to strategy, lady.’

‘The daughter of a king in Hibernia is taught many things and can even lead her people in war.’

Suidur nodded as if this did not surprise him. ‘Well, if he did backtrack from where we spotted him and his men, he would have to go a considerable distance through the mountains to reach a suitable place to intersect our journey. I swear, lady, you need not worry. We will protect you.’

It was not long before they started down the mountain track on a zigzag path that seemed steeper than those they had ascended by. She could see the blue ribbon of the river she presumed was the Trebbia, snaking its way through the rocky valley below. Here and there were farmsteads and cultivated areas of trees, which she was told were olive trees, while others she knew to be vines. She wished that she could assimilate these new sights, sounds and smells, but her mind was filled with the curious mysteries that beset this valley, its abbey and its people.

The journey today was done more leisurely and as they came to the lower reaches, into the treeline and then through the great forests that edged the river — which they could now hear as a soft roar against the other noises such as the rustling of the leaves, the occasional bark of a fox and the cry of birds — Fidelma began to feel more relaxed than she had been for the last few days.

They emerged into a broad clearing by the river. There was a large farmstead and outbuildings, and beyond, a small group of olive trees and vines. A dog started barking, and aman appeared from the building. Fidelma recognised him at once. It was Radoald’s warrior, Wulfoald, who greeted Suidur with a friendly wave. A rapid-fire conversation was exchanged, in which the name of Grasulf was frequently mentioned. Finally, Wulfoald turned to Fidelma as she slid off the horse and stretched her limbs.

‘Well, lady, it seems that we have much to apologise for.’

‘Apologise?’

‘As I recall, some days back you had no sooner entered this valley than you and your companions were attacked. And now I hear that you were abducted by Grasulf, an evil man if ever there was one.’ He turned and greeted Brother Eolann before saying to Fidelma: ‘We must make up for our inhospitable neighbours.’

Wulfoald’s manner was warm and friendly. Fidelma, however, was thinking about his finding of young Wamba and Hawisa’s accusation against him and her own suspicions. She wished the questions did not continually buzz around in her head like swarming bees. She must stop thinking awhile.

‘I was just about to depart with my men for Bobium. We have spare horses so we could escort you to the gates of the abbey and make sure you reach there in safety. That is, unless you want to remain here and refresh yourselves? There is no need to break the journey at Radoald’s fortress. We could have you at Bobium by mid-afternoon.’

Fidelma considered. In fact, it suited her to return to Bobium as soon as possible, and when the matter was put to Brother Eolann, he agreed at once. Wulfoald gave instructions to his men who brought forward two spare horses.

Fidelma felt awkward when it came to taking a farewell of Suidur and his silent companions. It was true that he had rescued her and Brother Eolann but, once more, her mindwas awash with unanswered questions. Perhaps it was because she disliked mysteries that she had become a dálaigh. When she could not resolve a problem it gnawed at her like a toothache. Yet she realised that there was nothing else she could do but pretend that she felt all was well, hiding her suspicions and doubts. She therefore thanked Suidur as warmly as she could for his intervention, and told him to translate her thanks to his companions. Brother Eolann responded more emotionally and profusely with his thanks. Finally they mounted up and joined Wulfoald and two warriors as they moved off alongside the track by the river which would lead them back to Bobium.