The Dove of Death

Chapter Fifteen

They had arrived back at Brilhag well after nightfall, and everyone was exhausted. Fidelma wanted to question Iuna immediately, but Eadulf persuaded her that the morning would be more appropriate. After a hurried evening meal, everyone went to their bedchamber.

When Fidelma and Eadulf descended to the great hall the next morning they found only Bleidbara standing moodily before the fire.

‘Riwanon left the fortress early this morning,’ he stated with a bleak expression. ‘She decided that she wanted to pray at the oratory, just along the coast from here.’

‘She has gone to do what?’ demanded Fidelma in amazement. ‘Why was she allowed to go outside the fortress when there is such danger abroad?’

‘Who am I to dare question the decision of Riwanon?’ Bleidbara answered dourly. ‘Anyway, she has taken her maid Ceingar, and Budic with two of his men.’

‘Better than nothing,’ Fidelma replied but not with approval. ‘Even so, she ought to be aware of the dangers hereabouts. When did she leave?’

‘At first light.’

‘And what is this oratory? I hope that it is not the same one in which Macliau was found?’

‘No, it’s on this side of the peninsula — a little chapel where it is said that one of the saints stayed during some pilgrimage.’

Fidelma shook her head in dissatisfaction. Then she glanced at the remains of the food on the table.

‘It looks as though everyone else has been up before us.’ Eadulf had sat down and was helping himself to bread and cold meats, but Fidelma excused herself. She did not feel at all hungry. Instead, she decided to go in search of Iuna. She found the girl in the kitchens.

‘I was told that you met old Aourken from the village yesterday,’ she opened immediately.

Iuna regarded her in surprise for a moment.

‘You make that sound like an accusation of something,’ she countered defensively. ‘Yes, I did see her yesterday. We often meet when I go to buy oysters. She used to teach me when I was younger and when she was with the religious at the abbey. That was before-’

‘Before Abbot Maelcar took over and changed the Rule at the abbey?’

‘Just so. Abbot Maelcar changed so many good things.’

‘I gather you did not like him?’

‘How could anyone like him? He would insult me by calling me a provincial servant, when my family…’ She took a deep breath. ‘Maelcar was a lecherous old man who shrouded prurience in piety. He preferred to look at women from cracks in curtains. When I was at Brekilian recently, he-’

‘Go on,’ Fidelma invited when the girl suddenly stopped and a flush came to her cheeks.

‘I hear stories, that’s all,’ Iuna muttered.

‘And Iarnbud? I had the impression that you did not like him either.’

‘Am I to take it that these questions have some relevance to the death of the Abbot?’ Iuna said rudely.

Fidelma was unperturbed by the aggression in her tone.

‘You may. You may also assume that I am still carrying out the commission Queen Riwanon gave me.’

‘I was raised at Brilhag. The mac’htiern fostered me when my parents were killed in a Frankish raid. Iarnbud is always about the place.’ She shuddered suddenly. ‘He is a sinister old man, as far as I am concerned. Always creeping about the place, always peering and prying. No, I do not like him one little bit.’

‘What was the nature of the argument that I saw you having with him yesterday?’

Again the girl looked at her in surprise and said nothing for a while. Fidelma decided to prompt her again.

‘I was coming to speak with you when I saw you at the door which leads out to the path down to the small cove where some boats are moored,’ she explained.

Iuna was still defensive. ‘If you were that interested, why did you not come to speak to us and enquire then?’

‘I had to fetch Eadulf, and by the time we came back, you had both vanished. We went down to the cove and saw a boat sailing towards Govihan.’

Iuna smiled grimly. ‘That was Iarnbud.’

‘But you had also vanished. I thought you might have gone with him?’

‘I have my rowing boat there and was on my way to collect the oysters. So I left Iarnbud sailing to Govihan while I rowed along the coast to the oyster beds in the little bay beyond.’

Fidelma had already guessed as much after Aourken had told her of the meeting. She was still irritated that she had made a mistake in thinking Iuna and Iarnbud had sailed off together. So she and Eadulf had been on a wild-goose chase. She grimaced at the dark humour of the expression. They were, indeed, chasing the Barnacle Goose.

‘And the argument between you?’ she added.

‘Iarnbud was asking too many personal questions.’

‘Personal questions?’

‘About Macliau, about Riwanon, even questions about you.’

‘I don’t understand. What sort of questions? For example, what would he want to know about Macliau? He has surely known him since birth.’

‘He wanted to know about Macliau’s friends. He was always going off hunting with them, even though there was no need for meat for the kitchens, and sometimes he would return without any game. Iarnbud seemed curious, for it was unlike Macliau to take an interest in hunting.’

‘Why was this a subject of argument with Iarnbud?’

‘I told him that there was a reason for Macliau’s desire to hunt.’

‘Which was?’

‘Hunting was a euphemism used by Macliau. It disguised his pursuit of the local women. I am afraid my foster-brother is…’ She finished with an eloquent gesture of her shoulders.

‘You have heard the story of what happened yesterday. Do you think your brother murdered Argantken?’

Iuna’s mouth became a stubborn line and she vehemently shook her head.

‘Macliau is a fool, a profligate and reckless with women. He is also weak and he should never succeed his father as mac’htiern. That does not mean he is a killer. He has a horror of blood. Of course,’ she added, ‘there is no accounting what a weak man will do when there is a prospect of being denied the power he thinks he is entitled to.’

‘You say he should not succeed as Lord of Brilhag. Who would become mac’htiern then?’

‘When a suitable male is not available to become chieftain or king,’ the girl replied, ‘then it is time to stand aside for a woman to take over.’

‘Meaning Trifina?’

Iuna’s eyes flashed for a moment and then she seemed to catch herself and smiled without humour.

‘Perhaps,’ she replied shortly. ‘She is the only other child of Lord Canao. One must not only be of the bloodline but be perceived as the best person for the task.’

‘I presume Iarnbud was asking about me because he is suspicious of all foreigners?’ continued Fidelma.

‘He wanted to know if you had known Riwanon before you came here.’

This answer puzzled Fidelma. She asked: ‘How did he think I would have known her?’

‘Perhaps because your Cousin Bressal had been sent as envoy to King Alain and you were on your cousin’s ship when it was attacked?’

‘Why would that follow? Oh, he might not have realised that I only joined Bressal at Naoned. I suppose he thought that I had come to this kingdom with my cousin and had been at Alain’s court?’

‘Iarnbud is a strange man,’ Iuna said, almost to herself. ‘He has never liked Riwanon.’

‘Any reason?’

‘Only that he was once patronised by Riwanon’s predecessor as Queen.’

Fidelma was trying to work that out.

‘Do you mean that Riwanon is not the first wife of this King Alain?’ she asked.

‘Correct. She is his second wife. King Alain is twice her age, you see.’

‘What happened to his first wife?’

‘What happened to half of the population a few years ago? The Yellow Plague, alas.’

‘And then Alain married Riwanon?’

‘He did.’

‘And where was she from? Domnonia?’

‘No, she was of Bro-Waroch. Her father was Lord of Gwern Porc’ hoed on the edge of the great forest of Brekilien.’

Brekilien again, thought Fidelma. This name cropped up so many times.

‘So is Riwanon related to your foster-father’s family?’

‘The Lord of Gwern Porc’ hoed was one of the chieftains who owed allegiance to the kings of Bro-Waroch, but he was not of the royal family.’

‘And you think that Iarnbud dislikes Riwanon for no other reason than that she married Alain Hir?’

‘He needs little excuse for his likes and dislikes,’ the girl replied. ‘And now I think I have gossiped enough. Excuse me — I have my duties to perform.’

With a quick jerk of her head to indicate that the conversation had ended, she turned and walked away, leaving Fidelma gazing thoughtfully after her. Perhaps, she thought, the family relationships were entirely irrelevant to the matter, but they were certainly complicated.

On her return to the great hall, Fidelma found that some of the others had arrived and were sitting morosely around the fire. Macliau was seated on one side of the hearth apparently recovering from his travails, while Trifina sat opposite him, both their gazes seemed concentrated on the flames. Brother Metellus had apparently made the early-morning journey to the fortress to report on conditions at the abbey after the near-riot. He sat near them, drumming his fingers uneasily on the wooden arm of his carved chair. Bleidbara was standing before the fire, hands clasped behind him, while Eadulf remained at the table, having finished breaking his fast. He raised his eyes in a meaningful expression as Fidelma entered, as if to indicate the awkward atmosphere that permeated the room.

Fidelma was just walking across to join her husband when the now-familiar warning blast on a trumpet at the gates of the fortress caused them all to start.

Bleidbara’s head jerked up, his expression one of concern. He hurried to the doors and threw them open.

They could hear the sounds of horses arriving and Bleidbara’s voice raised in question. It was not long before he came back. His expression was grim and foretold bad news.

‘What is it?’ demanded Trifina.

‘My men have returned,’ Bleidbara announced hollowly. ‘They found the four men who accompanied Macliau.’

‘Well, what do these men say? Why are they not brought before me?’ snapped Trifina.

Bleidbara glanced at Macliau, who was waiting anxiously for his reply.

‘They say nothing, lady, for they are all dead. They seem to have been shot at close range with arrows.’

There was a silence, broken only by a long shuddering breath from Macliau.

‘I see,’ said Fidelma slowly. ‘And where were the bodies found? I mean, were they in the proximity of the ruined oratory?’

‘Not far from it, but not close enough for any warning cry to be heard.’

‘Did your men bring the arrows with them?’

Bleidbara gazed at her in surprise, then muttered something and disappeared. He had returned in a moment and held out one of the arrows to her.

She looked at it. ‘Goose feather and three flights. A professional fletched arrow,’ she said, glancing over at Eadulf.

He nodded slightly, to show he understood. Bleidbara opened his mouth as if to speak, but changed his mind.

Macliau raised his head again, his pleading eyes regarding them each in turn.

‘They were my only witnesses that what I say is the truth,’ he said. ‘What trial shall I get now?’

Brother Metellus looked at him sorrowfully, saying, ‘Dead men do not make good witnesses, Macliau.’

Macliau jumped up, his mouth working.

‘I did not kill them!’ he cried. ‘Is that what you are implying. Brother Metellus? I did not kill anyone.’ He turned and almost ran from the hall in the manner of a petulant child.

‘This does not disprove Macliau’s story,’ Fidelma said. ‘It could have happened in the way he described. His men were killed and then the killers could have waited until Macliau and the girl were both asleep, entered the oratory, made him so drunk he passed out, and then stabbed the girl. The story is still feasible.’

Bleidbara glanced at Trifina, who had resumed her gaze at the fire. Her jaw was clenched.

‘There is one thing I should say,’ he said quietly. ‘Lady Trifina knows this.’

‘What is it?’

‘Our own fletcher made those arrows, which you remark on. There is a store of them in our armoury. Two weeks ago, the fletcher noticed that several bundles seemed to be missing. We could not account for their disappearance.’

‘Well, we need proof one way or the other, if we are to satisfy Barbatil and the local men,’ observed Brother Metellus.

Eadulf spoke up. ‘The attackers could well have stabbed the girl — but as Macliau woke, when they poured strong liquor into him to dull his senses, it would surely not have had such a rapid effect?’ he pointed out. ‘You cannot pour liquid down someone’s throat and expect them to become insensible with drink in so short a time.’

‘Are you saying that Macliau is lying?’ Trifina turned from the fireplace, her voice quiet but threatening.

‘No, I am not,’ Eadulf replied hurriedly. ‘What I am saying is that I think he would have had to have been drugged as well as having alcohol poured into him. If so, it would require someone with the skills of an apothecary.’

‘But why not simply kill him?’ Trifina demanded, and then added hastily, ‘Thanks be to God that they did not. But I do not understand the logic of this.’

‘I think the logic is easy to follow,’ Fidelma intervened. ‘Didn’t you tell us that you thought this Dove of Death, as you call him, was trying to disgrace your family? To follow your logic, we have your brother accused of murder and nearly strung up by a mob for something he didn’t do. Isn’t that precisely what you claim this Koulm ar Maro’s purpose is?’

‘So you believe Macliau is innocent?’

‘I would add the word “probably” to “innocent”. Having been too long in dealing with such matters, I cannot be dogmatic about anything until it is proven one way or the other,’ Fidelma replied.

To their surprise, at that moment, another warning call of a trumpet was heard from the gates.

‘That is a signal of approaching danger from the lookouts!’ cried Trifina, her face white. ‘The mob are coming for Macliau!’

‘Calm yourself,’ replied Bleidbara. ‘The mob won’t get into this fortress. Anyway, Barbatil has given his word.’ The young warrior hurried from the great hall. He was back within minutes.

‘It is Riwanon and Budic. They looked distressed.’

Within a short time, the Queen had entered, followed by Budic. Riwanon made for a chair and slumped into it, breathing heavily. She was dishevelled and covered in dust. There was a tear in Budic’s cloak, blood on his face, although there did not seem to be an obvious wound. He, too, was covered in dust.

Fidelma immediately poured wine for them. All present waited in silence, no one asking the obvious question. Riwanon did not speak until she had gulped several mouthfuls of wine.

‘We were attacked,’ she announced flatly.

‘Attacked? What — by the mob?’ demanded Trifina.

‘Where and by whom?’ asked Fidelma more cautiously.

‘Make sure the gates of the fortress are secured,’ Budic, having recovered himself, ordered Bleidbara. ‘They were riding close after us.’

Bleidbara went to ensure that the gates were firmly shut and that a watch was kept on the highway.

By now, Riwanon had calmed down a little.

‘We were nearing the little oratory, which I wanted to visit. I was riding in front with Budic, going through a stretch of forest. All I knew was that there was a cry and glancing behind I saw two of our men had fallen with arrows in them. Dead, I think. I heard Ceingar give a scream. Budic whipped my horse and we bounded forward. Only Budic and I escaped. He saved my life, yelling for me to ride as I have never ridden before. I am sure that they are pursuing close behind.’ She shuddered, before asking, ‘Are the gates closed?’

‘You are safe now in the fortress of Brilhag,’ asserted Trifina coldly.

Riwanon ignored her, looking directly at Fidelma and saying, ‘I need your assurance, Fidelma of Hibernia, that I am safe.’

Fidelma stared at her in astonishment, as there was a sharp intake of breath from Trifina.

‘Do you doubt it?’ Fidelma asked incredulously. For the implication was surely a direct insult to her hosts.

‘I ask it because I glimpsed one of our attackers — and he held a banner in his hand,’ said the Queen.

It was Budic who added grimly, ‘The banner belonged to the mac’htiern of Brilhag. We cannot deny the evidence of our own eyes.’

Bleidbara had just returned and overheard what Budic had said.

‘So you think that it was my men who attacked you?’ he said quietly. ‘We have had better things to do this day.’

‘Riwanon, there seems some conspiracy to bring discredit on the family of the lord of Brilhag,’ Fidelma intervened as Budic was about to respond. ‘We do not know the details, but we believe that whoever attacks under this flag is not connected with your husband’s friend.’ She turned to Budic. ‘How many were in this attacking party?’

‘Perhaps half-a-dozen, maybe even a dozen,’ replied Budic hesitantly. ‘We did not see them all.’

‘And you had two warriors and yourself in the party?’

‘The attack came by stealth. My men were shot down from behind the trees and bushes.’

‘And yet one of the ambushers came forward with this banner, thus ensuring that they might be identified? Did you not think that strange?’

‘Strange?’ Budic frowned.

‘To go to such lengths to ambush you, shooting from behind with the intention of killing you all, but then coming forward that you might identify them. I believe that is why you were allowed to survive.’

‘I only glimpsed the banner over my shoulder as Budic whipped up my horse,’ replied Riwanon thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps they emerged to give chase to us?’

Fidelma turned to Trifina. ‘I suggest that Bleidbara take some men and see if he can track these attackers. At least, he can recover the bodies of Riwanon’s maid and guards.’

‘You want Bleidbara and his men to leave the fortress now — when we might be attacked?’ Trifina was astonished.

‘But that will be dangerous!’ cried Riwanon in agreement.

Fidelma smiled at them both.

‘I am sure that these ruffians will not launch an attack here.’ She turned to Eadulf with an apologetic smile. ‘I would like you to accompany Bleidbara and his men. I need your expert eyes, for you know what it is I would like to see. However, I feel that I must remain here for the moment.’

Eadulf looked carefully at her. ‘I do not understand,’ he said. ‘Why is it you want me to go?’

‘Stet pro ratione voluntas,’ she whispered, glancing at the company. Let my will stand as a reason. Then she added quickly in their common language: ‘I don’t want to prejudice you by saying what I think you will find — just observe and report directly back to me. I do not think you will be in any danger.’

‘Very well,’ he replied.

‘I am willing to go, lady,’ Bleidbara now stated. ‘If it means finding out who is behind these attacks.’

‘Bleidbara is a capable warrior,’ Trifina said, ‘but your request places him and your husband in danger.’

‘I disagree, lady. The raiders only attack when the odds are in their favour. I am hoping that Bleidbara might be able to track them to their lair, wherever that is.’

‘Then I should go with them,’ Budic announced, apparently feeling that his reputation as a warrior was in question.

‘As commander of the Queen’s bodyguard, your place is here with her,’ Fidelma pointed out.

‘Where is it that this ambush took place?’ asked Bleidbara.

Budic hesitated, as if trying to recall the exact location. ‘It was along the track, just south of the oratory.’

‘A good place for an ambush, as the road passes through a heavily wooded area. I know it well. We shall proceed carefully. I shall take six men, for it will be best to leave the others here, to prepare for all contingencies. I’ll take Boric the Stout for he is not only a good warrior but the best tracker we have. I hope your optimism that the attackers have fled is not proved wrong, lady.’

‘I would not like to be responsible for sending these men into danger unnecessarily,’ Riwanon said, looking distraught.

‘Be reassured, lady.’ Fidelma’s voice was earnest. ‘There is necessity to this. And I do not believe there is any danger for them.’

Only Eadulf seemed to pick up a hidden meaning in her words.

Every so often, Boric halted the group of riders and slid from his horse, peering at the tracks that they were following. They were some way from Brilhag by now, and he had examined the tracks several times already.

‘I can see signs of two horses heading for Brilhag, but no sign that they were being followed at this point, certainly not along this track,’ he told Bleidbara.

Bleidbara glanced at Eadulf.

‘So Riwanon was mistaken when she thought they were chased to the gates of Brilhag,’ Eadulf said.

‘There is one other thing,’ Boric added. ‘At this point, the tracks indicate that the two horses were proceeding at no more than a walking pace. So they must have realised, at this point, that they were not being followed.’

‘Are you sure?’ Bleidbara frowned. ‘Maybe these are the wrong tracks. When they arrived at Brilhag, they came at a gallop.’

The stocky tracker shook his head. ‘The horses were certainly not galloping here. I’d stake my sword on it.’

‘We will continue — but with caution,’ decided Bleidbara. ‘Keep an eye on the tracks, Boric.’

‘How far to this oratory?’ asked Eadulf as they set off again.

‘We are fairly close now. It is towards the north-east, along the shore of the Morbihan. There are some farmsteads in this area. They are well away from the main course of this track, more towards the south.’

‘Then we should be coming to the bodies of Riwanon’s companions soon,’ Eadulf deduced.

From time to time, Boric had halted and dismounted to check the tracks but he had found no sign of anything untoward until they came to a track that intersected the one they were following. Here he reported that several horses had halted for a little while, for the ground was churned by their hooves.

‘I can see that two horses have left the main group here. They are going back to Brilhag.’

‘Are you sure?’ Bleidbara asked.

‘I can only report what I see on the ground,’ replied Boric stoically. ‘Shall we continue on?’

Bleidbara gestured assent.

Eadulf was thoughtful, still wondering why Fidelma had made him come along. Was there something she already knew or suspected?

After another period had passed, Bleidbara pointed through the trees on their left, north of their position.

‘Those are the waters of Morbihan and the oratory is nearby.’

Eadulf followed his quick gesture and saw waters glistening beyond the trees.

‘Well, one thing is for sure,’ Bleidbara said. ‘The raiders are long gone from this area and certainly did not maintain their pursuit of Riwanon and Budic after they had ambushed them.’

‘That might be so,’ Eadulf agreed as he looked around. ‘However, we haven’t yet come to the spot where the ambush took place.’

‘True enough,’ the other man agreed. ‘We ought by now to have come across the bodies of those warriors who fell and, of course, the girl, Ceingar. The attack was probably closer to the oratory than Riwanon allowed. We’ll continue on…’

He paused, for the stout tracker was standing still. He was sniffing the air suspiciously.

‘I smell a fire,’ he announced.

They could all smell it now. Boric silently pointed to the south, away from Morbihan. There was a gap in the canopy of leafy branches that showed clear sky and something else. A column of black smoke was rising and drifting against the blue.

‘A forest fire?’ demanded Eadulf, looking at it and then glancing at the tall trees on either side of the track that suddenly seemed to grow menacingly around them.

‘I don’t think so,’ Bleidbara replied quietly. ‘That is a man-made fire.’

Boric remounted. ‘I’ll ride on ahead,’ he called over his shoulder as he urged his horse forward at a canter.

Bleidbara signalled his band to follow carefully. The smell of burning wood became stronger.

‘There is a farmstead beyond that hill,’ he said to Eadulf. ‘Perhaps the farmer is burning his fields. It’s that time of year.’

Eadulf vaguely knew that some farmers burned corn stubble in their fields on alternate years to ensure more fertile ground. It was a practice that, not being a farmer, he did not really understand.

‘Why are you sure it is not a forest fire?’ he enquired.

Bleidbara grinned. ‘When you have lived in a forest you begin to develop a feeling, an instinct, and you also develop your eyes for such things.’

They found a small fork in the track that meandered off to the right and ascended a sloping area of ground. Boric was still ahead of them. The trees began to thin a little and suddenly they saw him halt his horse at the top of the rise. He did not turn round but held up his hand as if to stay their advance.

They came up carefully behind him and halted.

Some cultivated fields stretched before them, leading down to a stream, which ran snake-like through their middle. But it was not these that were on fire. On the far side of the fields were what seemed to have been a log-built farmhouse and some outbuildings. It was these that were on fire.

A group of people were milling about, some trying to form a human chain to the stream, along which they passed pails of water in a fruitless attempt to douse the flames. Some bodies were laid out nearby.

Eadulf tried to focus on the scene to discern its cause.

There was a sudden shout of warning from the people below. One of them was pointing up the hill towards them. Some grabbed for weapons. It was clear that their group had been spotted and identified as a potential threat.

Bleidbara began to ride slowly forward while Eadulf and the others followed a short distance behind.

As they grew close, Eadulf saw that those trying to put out the flames were reforming in defensive positions. They were those same sturdy farmers who had gathered to attack the abbey on the previous day. He could tell by their clothing and curious agricultural weaponry. He recognised the small man, what was his name? Coric! Coric — the friend of Barbatil, the father of the murdered Argantken.

They were halfway across the field when Bleidbara halted and called to Coric. It was in retrospect that Bleidbara interpreted the shouted conversation to Eadulf.

‘Coric! It is I, Bleidbara. We are friends!’ he cried.

‘You come under the banner of Brilhag,’ replied the little man. ‘That is no sign of friendship — after this.’ He gestured around him.

‘What do you mean?’

‘A group of your warriors attacked this farmstead, slaughtered old Goustan the farmer and his family and set fire to it. How should we welcome you as friends?’

‘No warriors of mine did this, Coric. We have come from Brilhag in search of the brigands who ambushed Queen Riwanon this morning. Two of her warriors were slain, and her maid.’

Coric stood uncertainly. ‘How can we know that you tell the truth?’

‘I am Bleidbara. I grew up among you. My word is my honour.’

‘I cannot accept the word of anyone who serves Brilhag after this day. Warriors have attacked us poor farmers too many times. But today, today marks an end of it. We will fight back. So I warn you, Bleidbara, stay back!’

‘They may be using the banner of Brilhag, but that does not mean they are of Brilhag,’ responded the warrior.

‘So you say. We will choose our own counsel.’

Bleidbara was losing patience. ‘Just tell us what happened and which way these raiders have gone?’

There was a pause, then Coric’s surly voice answered, ‘We saw smoke rising and, as several of our farmsteads had been attacked before, we came in a body to see what was happening. From the rise there, we saw half-a-dozen men loading booty on their horses. The cabin was already blazing. Old Goustan was still alive, we saw him arguing with the looters. Then one of them, perhaps the leader, simply drew his sword and cut him down. There was a scream and we saw Goustan’s wife and child run from behind one of the huts. They did not reach him. Their bodies lie there.’

Again Coric gestured.

‘We gave a shout of anger and all of us, as one man, raised what weapons we could and began to run down the hill. The attackers saw us. They had bows and might have cut down some of us. But their leader was wise, for he simply signalled his men to mount and they went riding away.’

‘How long ago was this?’ demanded Bleidbara sharply.

‘An hour — perhaps more. The blaze was so strong here that we have not been able to quench it.’

‘And which way did the attackers go?’

Coric pointed north but slightly to the east of the direction from which they had come.

‘Once more, I assure you that this is no deed of Brilhag,’ cried Bleidbara. ‘I am going in pursuit of these raiders and will prove to you and your people that I am right.’

Coric and his fellows said nothing. Neither did they drop their weapons nor did they raise them. They stood unsmiling as Bleidbara turned his horse and signalled to his men to follow. As they rode quickly back across the hill in the direction Coric had indicated, Bleidbara quickly recounted the conversation to Eadulf.

‘Then these must be the same men who attacked Riwanon,’ Eadulf said unnecessarily. ‘Where would they be heading to in this direction?’

‘This way is the oratory.’

‘Could they have landed from this ship you call Koulm ar Maro?’

‘That is exactly what I fear,’ agreed Bleidbara. ‘They have such a head start on us that they may vanish out onto the waters of Morbihan again.’

‘But they are on horseback,’ objected Eadulf.

‘Ah,’ Bleidbara smiled brightly, ‘that is true. I was almost forgetting. They must keep their horses somewhere if they are conducting raids like this.’

It seemed little time passed before they came within sight of the small stone oratory.

Immediately Bleidbara halted the band and, without any words being exchanged, Boric slid from his horse and moved quickly forward. It was obvious to Eadulf that these men had worked together before and did not have to waste time exchanging orders.

The first task was to ensure that no one was in hiding in or around the oratory, and when all was clear, Boric bent to the ground checking the area around the grey stone building. Then he moved towards the nearby shoreline and down to the embankment. While Eadulf was impatient, Bleidbara sat leaning forward, resting on the pommel of his saddle. It was almost as if he was nodding in a doze but the half-shut eyes were still bright, watchful and wary of their surroundings.

Boric reappeared and waved them forward.

As they dismounted, he spoke rapidly to Bleidbara.

‘Several horses and riders have been here. It’s difficult to tell how many. The most recent group halted and some men dismounted. Four riders took the riderless horses and moved on northwards.’

‘How can you possibly know that?’ wondered Eadulf.

Boric smiled patiently, then enlightened him. ‘The earth always tells the story. Some horses came here; the depth of their imprint measures their weight. When they left, in that direction,’ he pointed, ‘only four of the horses impressed the ground with the same weight. The others were light. Then we found marks of boots, heavy shod of the type warriors wear. The wearers of these went down to the embankment and seem to have boarded a boat drawn up on the shore.’

‘Probably they went to join their friends on the ship,’ Bleidbara explained grimly.

Eadulf had to admit that the tracker knew his business well.

‘And those that continued on?’ he asked. ‘Where would they go to?’

Boric shrugged. ‘The only way to know that would be to follow them.’

Bleidbara was now all in favour of pushing on. He pointed out that Fidelma had wanted the attackers followed to their lair.

‘What is the point of coming this far, only to turn back?’ he pressed.

‘But the sea raider, this Koulm ar Maro, is hiding somewhere out there.’ Eadulf pointed to the Morbihan.

‘It might be that in following those that continued on land, we will find out where their secret harbour is,’ Bleidbara said.

‘How so?’

‘Why wouldn’t they all try to escape to the sea, if escaping they were? I think they also have a camp on land and that is where they stable their horses for these attacks. In that place, we may also find the harbour that shelters their ship.’

Eadulf thought carefully. ‘There is something in that logic,’ he agreed.

‘You sound doubtful?’

‘It’s just that I am wondering why we have not found the bodies of the slain bodyguards of Riwanon and her maidservant Ceingar?’

‘Perhaps we missed them,’ Bleidbara replied.

‘Or they could have been made prisoners,’ suggested Boric.

‘The answer is to follow and find out for ourselves.’ Bleidbara’s tone was determined.

With a reluctant sigh, Eadulf conceded to the warrior. He still felt uneasy, however, and worse still, remained unsure what it was that Fidelma had expected him to see.