Smoke in the Wind

Chapter Twenty

It was Gwnda’s voice which greeted them with a gruff humour.

‘You are welcome to my hall, Clydog the Wasp.’

Fidelma moved sideways a little so that she could see who was standing in front of Clydog.

Gwnda was there, of course, seated in a wooden chair, but in his usual chair of office stretched a young-looking warrior with a circlet of silver round his fair hair. He was quite handsome, with almost violet-coloured eyes that seemed to have no pupils. A boyish grin moulded his features. He was richly dressed but one could easily discern that the sword which hung at his side was no mere decorative piece. He looked familiar but it was only after a moment or two that Fidelma recognised him as the man they had met briefly at the abbey of Dewi Sant. It was Prince Cathen, son of Gwlyddien.

‘Lay down your weapons,’ snapped Gwnda to the outlaws.

Reluctantly, Clydog and his men unbuckled their sword belts and one of Cathen’s warriors laid aside his bow to come forward and gather them up. Another man, at a wave of the hand from Cathen, moved forward to sever the bonds of Fidelma and Eadulf.

They both stood for a moment, rubbing their wrists to restore the circulation, a little bewildered and amazed at this turn of fortune.

‘Take these dogs and put them with the others,’ Gwnda was ordering, indicating Clydog and his men.

‘Wait!’ snapped Clydog. ‘You cannot do this to me. It will go ill. .’

But the warriors were hustling him away, leaving Fidelma and Eadulf facing Prince Cathen and Gwnda, the lord of Pen Caer.

Cathen had risen, and now came forward with hands outstretched to her. ‘You had us worried for a while, Fidelma of Cashel. Your royal brother, Colgú of Cashel, would never have forgiven us if anything had happened to you while you were a guest in our kingdom of Dyfed.’

‘I am very glad to see you, Prince Cathen,’ Fidelma said with enthusiasm. ‘Seeing you has put the final piece in our puzzle.’

Cathen looked perplexed, but when she did not explain further he turned to Eadulf. ‘It is also good to see you again, Brother Saxon.’

Gwnda had risen, a little half-heartedly, in deference to the actions of his prince.

‘Come,’ Cathen invited them, ‘be seated before the fire and let refreshment be brought.’ This latter was said to the stony-faced Buddog, who left the hall to do his bidding.

‘What has happened?’ Eadulf was asking. ‘How did you get here?’

‘Your young messenger, Dewi, arrived at the abbey and told Abbot Tryffin what you had told him to say. My father and I questioned him about the situation here at Pen Caer. I saw beyond the mere message. It seemed that you might stand in need of a small band of warriors to enforce your argument. So I offered to lead them and we rode here as quickly as we could. We left young Dewi at his father’s forge on our way here.’

‘It seems that fortune has favoured your bold move,’ Fidelma observed gravely. ‘Luckily for us.’

Buddog re-entered, her nervousness at the presence of the young prince showing. Mulled wine and oat cakes were served.

‘Fortis fortuna adiuvat, eh?’ Cathen was smiling at Fidelma.

‘Even as Terence says in Phormio,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘But the township was in the hands of Clydog’s robbers. How did you. .?’

‘How did we change that state of affairs? Easily enough. Clydog had no idea that any adversary was in the vicinity. He had left with four of his men to chase you. That left fifteen or so to guard the villagers. You tell them how it was done, Gwnda.’

The lord of Pen Caer still seemed ill at ease. He stared at the ground for a moment. ‘We had been taken to the big hay barn behind here, the entire township. .’

‘Everyone was imprisoned?’ demanded Fidelma sharply.

Gwnda blinked.

‘Was Iestyn imprisoned with you?’ pressed Eadulf, realising what Fidelma was getting at.

Gwnda shook his head. ‘I have not seen Iestyn all evening. Nor Iorwerth, come to that.’

Fidelma turned quickly to Cathen. ‘Can you spare half a dozen warriors? Men in whose cunning you have faith, as well as their sword hands?’

‘I can. Why?’

‘Get one of the townsfolk to guide your men to Iestyn’s farmhouse. They are to take Iestyn captive and anyone else who is there. Tell them to be prepared for violence, for there might be some more of Clydog’s men present who are not prepared to lay down their weapons without a fight.’

Cathen called one of his men in and issued orders. Fidelma looked satisfied.

‘Now we can continue. We would not want our net to allow some of the culprits to escape.’

Cathen was clearly puzzled. ‘Are you saying that these men Iorwerth and Iestyn are in league with this outlaw Clydog?’

‘There is more in this matter than mere robbery, Prince Cathen,’ she assured him. ‘But Gwnda was explaining how you came to turn this affair to your favour. .?’

She turned, giving Eadulf a warning glance. He finally realised that there was some reason why she wanted to keep secret the finding of Iorwerth’s body. He did not know what it was, but he decided to go along with whatever scheme she had in mind.

Gwnda took up his interrupted tale. ‘As I say, we were imprisoned in the barn. Clydog had set ten of his men to guard us. There were a few others outside.’

‘Thus it was when we came to the township,’ intervened Cathen.

‘How many are there of you?’ asked Eadulf.

‘Fifty warriors of my father’s bodyguard. Good men all.’

‘It’s a wonder Clydog’s men were not alarmed by the arrival of such a large body,’ Fidelma observed.

‘I sent two men ahead to scout. They came across a man positioned at the bridge by the entrance to the township. He made the mistake of thinking my men were his companions returning and greeted them with words which immediately made them suspicious. So they disarmed him and brought him back to our main body and me. He was persuaded to talk a little. .’ Cathen broke off with a dry chuckle. ‘Perhaps we should skip over that. Anyway, he was persuaded to tell us that Clydog’s men had imprisoned Gwnda and his villagers in the barn, and even told us the disposition of his men. It was a simple task to disarm them and release the villagers. Learning that Clydog and some of his men had gone off chasing you and Eadulf, we decided to tell everyone to go to their homes and remain there quietly without lights until Gwnda told them otherwise. We positioned ourselves and waited for Clydog to return, as we knew he must. The rest you know.’

Fidelma nodded approvingly as she followed his narrative. ‘You seem to be a sound strategist, Cathen.’

‘Even a good strategist needs luck, Sister.’

Fidelma gave him an appreciative look. Cathen was certainly no vain leader.

Gwnda cleared his throat. ‘So now, Prince Cathen,’ he said, ‘thanks to you peace returns to Pen Caer. You have rounded up and captured our local band of robbers. And Sister Fidelma will tell you that our other mysteries are resolved. Si finis bonus est, totum bonum erit.’

Fidelma shook her head quickly. ‘If this is an end to the mystery, it is not good nor is everything good that comes from it.’

Prince Cathen looked uncertain. ‘I would agree that there are several questions to be answered before we can resolve all these matters. Do you have the answers to those questions, Sister?’

‘First tell me, Cathen, when Dewi came to your father Gwlyddien, did he make a specific request on my behalf?’

Cathen nodded. ‘That you be given the authority of barnwr to investigate all those matters you felt important.’

‘Do I receive that authority?’

‘My father was most willing to give you that authority. As I said before, we merely thought you might need a little physical backing.’

Gwnda was looking on in disapproval.

At that moment, a tap came at the door and one of Cathen’s warriors entered. ‘It was easily done, Prince Cathen. We have the man called Iestyn. He was at his farm with a couple of outlaws. We surprised them before they could even draw their swords, so no one has been hurt.’

Cathen grinned at Fidelma. ‘Excellent. So do we have all the rats in our trap now, lady?’

Fidelma did not reply for a moment but turned to the young warrior. ‘Was one of the outlaws a man with a metal skull cap? A war helmet? A man of some arrogance?’

‘That must be the one who answers to the name of Corryn. He was arrogant,’ agreed the warrior.

‘Corryn was the man I wanted.’ Fidelma sighed in satisfaction.

‘There was another outlaw, apart from the man Iestyn. His name was Sualda.’

‘Sualda?’ Eadulf’s eyebrows rose a fraction. ‘So he survived?’

‘Luck is definitely on our side,’ Fidelma told him.

Cathen glanced questioningly at her. ‘Are these men special?’ he asked. ‘I thought that Clydog was their leader?’

‘Very special,’ she confirmed. ‘Keep them all separate but closely confined. They are all important in this game of intrigue.’

Cathen gestured for his warrior to obey Fidelma and turned back to her. ‘I am not sure I understand any of this,’ he began.

‘I shall explain tomorrow. In the morning, with Gwnda’s consent of course, let us gather in this hall. I will then endeavour to bring all the ends of these matters together.’

Gwnda was frowning in annoyance. ‘I thought the matter was concluded? We have rounded up all the outlaws. What else is there?’

Fidelma gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘There are many deaths to be accounted for, Gwnda, and also an explanation of the conspiracy against King Gwlyddien.’ She turned to Cathen. ‘Do I have the right and your approval to present the explanations?’

‘Of course,’ the prince replied.

‘Then I shall need one of your men to act as steward for the court that I propose should sit in Gwnda’s hall at noon.’

‘Cadell is my trusted lieutenant, Sister.’

‘Very well. Let me speak with Cadell and issue him with instructions on what should be done tomorrow, for I need this business conducted in a precise and special way.’

Cathen and Gwnda were clearly at a loss to understand what was in her mind. However, Cathen turned to the door and called for one of his men, asking that Cadell be found and sent to him. A moment or so later a young warrior entered. Cathen spoke quietly to him and the man crossed the hall to Fidelma, raising his hand in salute.

‘I am at your service, Sister,’ he said. He seemed brisk and efficient.

‘Remain while Brother Eadulf and I give you instructions. ’ She turned to the others. ‘The night is almost gone and it has been a long and tiring one. I suggest that you all retire. Brother Eadulf and I will not be long in following your example.’

They hesitated and then, seeing the glint in her eye, began to disperse.

The morning was intensely bright. There were no clouds in the sky and the sun shone with that late autumnal brightness which causes people to narrow their eyes in order to focus through its glare. In spite of the sun’s rays, the air was chill and there was a hint that a frost had come and gone in the predawn hours. Droplets of water glimmered and sparkled on bushes and trees and even the grasses.

Fidelma had slept late. In fact, it was approaching the noon day. Even so, she was stirring long before Eadulf and went down to the kitchen to find Buddog washing dishes there. The woman greeted her dourly.

‘There is much movement in the township this morning, Sister. Many are crowding into Gwnda’s hall to hear what you have to tell them.’

Fidelma seated herself at a table and began to pick at a bowl of apples.

‘Let us hope they will not be disappointed,’ she said tightly. Buddog frowned and left her alone.

A moment later Eadulf entered. Fidelma noticed that he still looked exhausted. She probably looked haggard herself, for they had not gone to bed until dawn. They had spent some time questioning Sualda, who had recovered from his infectious wound thanks to Eadulf’s treatment, and Fidelma’s speculation had been confirmed.

‘I see people are gathering in the main hall,’ Eadulf said in greeting, helping himself to an apple. He had barely bitten into it when Prince Cathen entered with Cadell at his side.

‘It is a fine day,’ he announced. ‘The sun is near its zenith. Cadell has been scrupulous in obeying your instructions. Those whom you asked him to request to attend are already in their places. Clydog and his band of outlaws are still imprisoned, with the exception of Iestyn who has been brought to the hall under guard.’

‘Have the smith Goff and his wife Rhonwen arrived?’ asked Fidelma.

‘They have come with their son, Dewi,’ agreed Cadell.

‘And the girl Elen?’

‘She was most reluctant to return. It was lucky that she had broken her journey at Goff’s forge and we did not have to send all the way down to Llanrhian to fetch her. I do not think she is happy to be back.’

‘Everything stands in readiness, Sister,’ Cathen summed up. ‘Just as you ordered it should be.’

‘And is Gwnda in attendance?’

‘He is, and very unhappy about it,’ replied Cathen. ‘As lord of Pen Caer he would normally seat himself as judge, but I will take precedence in this court in accordance with your request.’

‘It will be up to you, Prince Cathen, to ensure that this hearing is properly conducted. I have no judicial authority and it will be your decision what legal path must be taken after I have presented the facts.’

‘It will be as you say.’

‘Then go before us and we will follow in a moment.’ He and Cadell left and went into the hall. Fidelma could hear the hum of voices grow silent with expectancy.

Buddog was still busying herself in the kitchen.

‘Buddog? Are you not joining us?’

The tall, blonde servant shook her head. ‘I am only a servant, lady. I am not allowed to enter Gwnda’s hall during official business other than to attend to the wants of the guests.’

‘But you have the right to attend and listen to what has taken place. Eadulf will take you in and secure you a seat.’

Eadulf rose and motioned for Buddog to go with him. She did so, but only with reluctance and some protest. For a few moments Fidelma sat at the table drumming her fingers on its wooden top and frowning into space. Then she gave a deep sigh, stood up and entered Gwnda’s hall.

The hall was crowded. Prince Cathen had taken the chair of office with Gwnda, as lord of Pen Caer, seated to one side. Gwnda was clearly annoyed at being removed from the place that he had expected to fill and watched her coming with intense dislike. One of the men whom Cathen had brought with him was apparently a scribe, for he now sat to one side ready to record the proceedings. Cathen’s men were posted strategically around the hall and Cadell stood ready to perform the task of marshal of the court.

Fidelma paused at the door. A silence descended over the people as they turned to looked at her. Fidelma saw a scowling Elen seated near her father. There was Goff the smith, his plump wife, Rhonwen, and their son Dewi, on whom she bestowed a smile. Without the boy’s journey to the abbey of Dewi Sant, this could have been a more fatal affair. Buddog was sitting awkwardly where Eadulf had found a place for her. Not far from her, but with a warrior on either side, sat Iestyn the farmer.

Cadell had carried out his instructions to the letter. Clydog and Corryn and their followers were not in the hall, but were being kept in Gwnda’s barn as prisoners until she called for them.

Cathen glanced towards his scribe and the man knocked on the table with the pommel of his dagger. It was a superfluous action for already the hall was quiet.

‘We are ready to hear you, Sister,’ Cathen called.

Fidelma strode forward to the centre of the room, where Eadulf was already standing before Cathen. ‘Prince Cathen, let this court acknowledge that I and Brother Eadulf come here to speak with the approval and authority of Gwlyddien, your father, king of Dyfed.’

‘This is fully and readily acknowledged. Sister Fidelma of Cashel and Brother Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham, being lawyers of their own peoples, came to Pen Caer under commission of my father, the king. To facilitate matters he has approved of their being designated honorary barnwrs of this kingdom. We sit in anticipation of hearing the results of their investigations.’

Fidelma solemnly looked around, as if gathering her thoughts, and then turned back to address herself to Cathen. ‘We came to this place in the company of Brother Meurig. There were two matters calling for investigation. One was that for which King Gwlyddien had originally commissioned our help — the mystery of the disappearance of the brethren of Llanpadern. The second was that which Brother Meurig, as a learned judge, had specifically been sent to investigate — the murder of Mair, daughter of the smith Iorwerth of this township.’

There was a silence as she paused.

‘Initially, it was thought that these two events were two separate, unrelated issues, isolated from one another. Then I wondered if there might be some connection, for both incidents shared some common protagonists.’

There was still no sound as she paused again.

‘Prince Cathen, with your permission, I shall approach the explanation of these events by dealing first with the murder of Mair and its outcome-’

‘I object!’ Gwnda was leaning forward in his seat. ‘This matter is not in the competence of this foreigner, no matter what reputation she has in her own land.’

Cathen silenced him with a gesture. ‘I have already ruled on her competence,’ he said sharply. ‘My father has confirmed her qualification to investigate and bring evidence forward in the death of Brother Meurig, and as the barnwr was investigating Mair’s death it seems to me that it is within her competence to put forward her arguments in this matter.’

‘Brother Meurig was killed by Idwal. Idwal had killed Mair. The matter should be closed,’ protested Gwnda.

‘Do you deny that you had second thoughts about Idwal’s guilt?’ Fidelma asked. ‘Your daughter, Elen, thought that Mair had been killed in mistake for her because she had overheard a conversation in the woods which endangered her life. Is that not so? You even agreed that Elen should tell me so.’

Gwnda scowled. ‘I did not share her belief.’

Cathen leaned forward and searched out the frightened features of Elen. ‘Is this true, Elen? Did you make this claim and did your father agree that you were to tell Sister Fidelma and Brother Eadulf?’

‘It is true,’ Elen agreed unhappily.

Cathen turned back to Fidelma. ‘Then Gwnda’s objection is overruled. Continue.’

Fidelma paused a moment as if putting her thoughts in order before continuing.

‘The seeds of this tragedy — and here I speak of the death of Mair — go back many years. It is best if I tell the story as best I can and, should I place a wrong interpretation on events, then the witnesses gathered here can challenge and correct what I have to say. You will discover that the hand that struck down young Mair was not the same hand that struck down Brother Meurig.’

This caused a stir in the hall, quickly dispelled by a rapping on the table by the scribe.

‘As I say, the seeds of this tragedy were sown many yeas ago, in a place not so far from here called Dinas,’ began Fidelma. Goff stirred uncomfortably. ‘Two young apprentice smiths were working at the forge of Gurgust there. One of those smiths was Goff and the other was Iorwerth, Mair’s father. Gurgust, their smith-master, had a daughter named Efa.’

Elen had bent forward in her seat, a curious expression on her face.

‘Iorwerth made Efa pregnant. In a fury, Gurgust drove his apprentice Iorwerth out. His fury did not abate and he also cast his own daughter from his home. Desperate for security, Efa took up with a wandering warrior, who was thought by most to be the father of her child. I can only speculate on what happened, although I hope the person concerned will have the courage to confirm what I may say in speculation. This warrior took up with Efa but, shortly after the birth of the child, he quarrelled with her. Perhaps he simply did not want to become father to another man’s child.

‘The warrior disappeared and Efa was found strangled. Moreover, her baby had also disappeared. Now Gurgust, in happier days, had made a red gold necklet, with a bejewelled pendant bearing the image of a hare, for his daughter. There was no sign of it and it was thought that whoever killed Efa had stolen it.

‘Some time afterwards a shepherd named Iolo started herding sheep at Garn Fechan. He was raising a boy named Idwal, who was not his son. Here in Llanwnda, Iorwerth the smith married a local girl called Esyllt and had a daughter whom they named Mair. Iorwerth did not treat his wife, Esyllt, well. She subsequently died. In his guilt he became devoted to his daughter. Idwal, foster son of Iolo, was a simple, kindly youth, and he and Mair appeared strangely drawn to one another.’

‘Where is Iorwerth?’ interrupted Gwnda, in a hectoring tone. ‘He should be here to refute this outlandish tale.’

Fidelma turned towards Goff. ‘In the absence of Iorwerth, can you and your wife, Rhonwen, tell this court whether the tale I have told is outlandish so far?’

Goff stared at the ground before him. It was his wife who answered.

‘Your account is correct. You have imagined nothing so far. My husband was the second apprentice at Dinas and, as all should know, Iorwerth’s wife, Esyllt, was my close friend.’

‘What was not known,’ went on Fidelma, ‘was that the attraction between Idwal and Mair was not a sexual one but something which went even deeper. Idwal and Mair were born of the same father but did not know it.’

‘Prove it!’ snapped Gwnda above the hubbub caused by her statement.

‘Just before the old shepherd Iolo died, he gave Idwal something which had been the property of his mother. It was a necklet of red gold with a figure of a hare on it.’

‘Idwal is dead,’ cried Gwnda. ‘You cannot prove any part of this story.’

Fidelma smiled. She turned to Elen.

‘It is true,’ the girl whispered.

‘Speak up, child,’ Cathen said. ‘If you have something to say, let the court hear.’

Elen raised her head. Tears were glistening in her eyes. ‘It is true,’ she said more determinedly. ‘Iolo told Idwal where the necklet had come from. When Idwal was accused of murder, he realised that his precious possession might be taken from him. He wanted to keep it safe and so he gave it to me.’

‘Then where is it?’ demanded Cathen.

Fidelma moved forward, holding it up. ‘Elen passed it to me when she told me how it came into her possession. It is so distinctive that I am sure Goff will recognise it as the one made by his smith-master Gurgust. It was the one worn by Efa all those years ago. Goff and Rhonwen had already described it when they had thought it lost.’

Goff had risen, staring at the necklet. ‘It is the same one,’ he acknowledged in a quiet voice. ‘I would recognise it anywhere.’

There was a yell and a scuffle. Eyes turned to where Iestyn had been sitting. He had been silent all through the hearing, his face immobile. Now he had tried to struggle to his feet, his eyes wide, his face a mask of hate.

‘Are you claiming that Iorwerth was Idwal’s father?’ he shouted. His guard pushed him back into his seat.

‘Iorwerth should be here,’ muttered Gwnda. ‘He should hear this accusation. If what you say is true, he would also recognise this necklet.’

‘He did,’ affirmed Fidelma, without responding to Iestyn. ‘In Brother Eadulf’s company, I showed the necklet to him.’

‘Then where is he?’ demanded Gwnda.

‘Recognising it, realising that Idwal was actually his son by Efa, he became demented. You see, he had actually helped hang his own son for what he thought was the rape and murder of his daughter.’

‘Then where is he now, Sister?’ demanded Cathen. ‘He should have been present in this court.’

Cadell, responding to Fidelma’s gesture, cleared his throat and took a step forward. ‘My prince, his body is now at his forge. On Sister Fidelma’s instructions, I went to a place described by her at first light and found his body beneath a tree where he had hanged himself. His body had been found by Sister Fidelma and Brother Eadulf last night and cut down moments before Clydog captured them.’

There was a gasp of horror from the crowd.

‘Iorwerth could not live with the fact that he had killed his own son,’ went on Fidelma. ‘Nor that his son, so he thought, had lusted after and killed his own sister.’

‘This shepherd, Iolo, the man who raised Idwal, was he the warrior of whom you spoke?’ queried Cathen. ‘Was Iolo the man with whom this unfortunate Efa took up after she had become pregnant with Iorwerth’s child?’

To everyone’s surprise, Fidelma shook her head. Instead, she turned to Iestyn. ‘Iolo was never a warrior, was he, Iestyn?’

The farmer glowered silently back at her.

‘There is surely no need to deny anything now, is there? There are people here who know that you were a warrior in your youth and that you were Iolo’s brother. I presume that Iolo took pity on the baby, thinking that it was your own child by Efa? He took Idwal to foster, and you gave him Efa’s chain. Was that how it happened?’

Iestyn said nothing.

‘You became too old to follow the profession of a warrior and came to farm at Pen Caer. Idwal was nothing to you except that he was a constant reminder of your past misdeeds. Every time you saw him you were reminded of Efa. I think that you killed Efa?’

The farmer raised hate-filled eyes.

‘You will never prove it, Gwyddel,’ he said between clenched teeth.

‘I don’t think I need to. Your current involvement with the plot at Llanpadern, to which I will come later, is crime enough for punishment. However, it would be good to clarify these matters. Your lack of denial is sufficient. When Iolo died, you found yourself inheriting his property and the first thing you did was throw Idwal out to fend for himself. The lad had to survive as an itinerant shepherd, remaining in the district as an unwitting thorn in your flesh.

‘When Idwal was charged with Mair’s murder, you saw your chance of getting rid of the boy’s accusing presence for good. You took a leading role in demanding vengeance, in stirring people up to such a pitch of hatred that they took the law into their own hands. Your own guilt was also your motivation for your part in his slaughter.’

‘I was not alone in that!’ cried Iestyn.

‘Indeed you were not. The guilt lies with everyone who had a hand in the crime of Idwal’s death. But the most tragic hand in this was that of Iorwerth, Idwal’s own blood father, and for that crime he has inflicted his own punishment on himself.’

‘Just a moment, Sister Fidelma,’ interrupted Cathen thoughtfully. ‘You have told us a tragic story, and it seems enough people here can verify its details. It is a dreadful and sorrowful tale about Idwal’s life and death. But you refer to his death as a crime. True enough. But what of the crimes of Mair’s death and Brother Meurig’s slaughter? Whatever Iestyn’s past misdeeds were, you do not appear to be accusing him of involvement in these deaths, nor have you exonerated Idwal.’

Fidelma bowed her head and smiled softly. ‘You are a sound judge, Prince Cathen. We have so far only set the scene and attempted to clear up a mist that has obscured the central action of this tragedy.’

She paused again.

‘Iorwerth wanted to believe the best of his daughter, Mair. He argued that she was still a virgin and accused Idwal of rape. Mair had already come to sexual maturity. She was known by her friends to be promiscuous and preferred the company of mature men. She had a lover.’

‘This is dangerous surmise. You cannot make such claims without evidence. .’ cautioned Cathen.

‘Oh, if need be I can call individual witnesses to back up my claims. Even Elen, daughter of Gwnda. Do you think it necessary at this stage?’

‘Very well. It is not necessary at this moment but be prepared to do so if you are challenged.’

‘I shall stand ready. Mair boasted to Elen, her close friend, that she had started an affair with a man who was older than her. On the morning that she was killed, she met Idwal in the forest. Idwal knew about her promiscuity. Idwal was a very moral young man and when Mair asked him to take a message to her elderly lover he refused. That was the cause of the argument which was witnessed by Iestyn as he passed them in the woods.

‘Iestyn witnessed the row and went rushing off to Iorwerth to stir things up, claiming that the disagreement was something more than it was. I will believe that Iestyn did not, perhaps, foresee that the event would result in Mair’s death, but when he found it did, it suited his plan well. He probably only wanted Idwal to be driven from the territory. With a murder charge, he saw a chance to remove him permanently.’

‘I am confused,’ interposed Cathen. ‘Are you saying that Idwal did or did not kill Mair?’

‘He did not kill her. Iestyn, hurrying to alert Iorwerth, passed someone else in the woods. He barely noticed that person, so intent was he on his errand of hate. Meanwhile, Idwal had refused to take the message to her lover. He had gone off in anger and left Mair alone. The killer then came upon Mair and Mair, in naivete, asked this person to take the message.’

‘Why naively?’ demanded Cathen.

‘Because the person she asked had been the mistress of Mair’s elderly lover for many years. She was now feeling cast aside while her lover found solace with this young girl. She already suspected Mair and hated her. To be asked to take a message to her lover from his new mistress was too much. In passion, she throttled Mair, throttled Mair with her powerful hands and killed her. Isn’t that how it happened, Buddog?’