The Spider's Web

Chapter Fifteen

They had ridden back to the edge of the forest in silence. Fidelma’s brows were drawn together in concentrated thought. Eadulf did his best to fight down the numerous questions which kept tumbling into his mind. Finally, as they emerged out of the shade of the forest, he could keep silent no longer.

‘What do you think it means, Fidelma?’ he demanded at last.

‘If I knew that, then I might have the answer to this entire mystery,’ she replied impatiently. ‘However, at least we have discovered the lair of the men who have been raiding the farms of Araglin.’

‘Why would Menma and these outlaws be hiding in that cave? And why should Menma be associated with cattle raiders?’

For a moment Fidelma’s lips parted in a grin.

‘I do not think that they are cattle raiders neither are they are exactly hiding.’

‘What then?’ demanded Eadulf.

‘Didn’t you see the tools lying about in the glade?’

‘Tools? No. I was too busy watching the men. What tools?’

Fidelma sighed gently.

‘You must always remember that observation and the analysis of that observation is essential to the art of truth seeking. There were several tools by the wagon. They told me that the cave must undoubtedly be a mine.’

Eadulf was astonished.

‘A mine?’

‘It is not unusual to find mines in this country. Had we left Lios Mhór and travelled due west along the Abhainn Mór we wouldcome on a plain called Magh Méine, or the Plain of Minerals, where copper, lead and iron are mined.’

‘I seem to have heard of that place before.’

Fidelma looked at him pityingly.

‘The hostel keeper, Bressal, mentioned that he had a brother who was a miner at the Plain of Minerals,’ she said softly.

‘Of course. But what was Menma doing at this mine, if such it is?’

‘That we must discover for ourselves.’

‘And why would …’

‘It is no good asking questions to which we do not have sufficient evidence to even make a guess at answering.’

‘Perhaps we should have made our presence known and demanded an explanation,’ suggested Eadulf. ‘After all, you are an official of this kingdom.’

Fidelma smiled broadly.

‘Those men are up to no good. Do you think they care for my office?’

‘We might have been able to surprise them, disarm them …’

‘There is a line in Horace’s Odes, my good friend. Vis consili expers mole ruit sua.’

Eadulf nodded slowly: ‘Force without good sense falls by its own weight,’ he repeated.

She peered up at the summit of the hill above them, shading her eyes against the sun.

‘You said earlier that if we climbed across the summit we should find ourselves above Archú’s farmstead. Is that correct?’

Eadulf frowned at her abrupt change of subject.

‘It is,’ he agreed stiffly.

‘Do you want to see if you are right?’

Eadulf thought she was jesting with him. She was not.

‘But the slopes are far too precipitous for horses,’ he protested. ‘On foot we could climb the hill but …’

She pointed silently upwards.

Further along the hill Eadulf saw a movement. The red brown of an animal. He screwed up his eyes to focus. It was the sleek, muscular figure of a stag, herding his deer before him.

Fidelma grinned quickly.

‘Where a stag may lead his herd, there might a horse and rider go. Are you willing?’

Eadulf raised his arms in unwilling surrender.

‘There is something like a path just up ahead.’ Fidelma turned. ‘I think it is the deer run over the hill. Look!’

Eadulf could just see a worn strip of land, stretching through the fern and furze.

‘We cannot ride along that,’ he protested again.

‘No, but we can lead our horses,’ Fidelma assured him. She slid from her horse and took its bridle, picking her way carefully up the tiny animal-trodden path towards the shoulder of the rounded hill before them.

Eadulf groaned inwardly, then he, too, slipped from his horse and began to lead it after Fidelma. In truth, Eadulf had no liking for high, exposed places and so he kept his eyes closely on the path before him.

‘I cannot see why you wish to use this short cut to Archú’s place. We could have easily returned along the main track,’ he complained, more to keep his thoughts occupied as they ascended than with the desire to argue with Fidelma.

‘This is quicker. And we do not want to alert anyone at Muadnat’s farm who are in league with our friends back at the mine.’

‘I cannot see how any of this ties in with Eber’s murder.’

Fidelma did not bother to answer him.

A wind was gusting across the hills and the horses were getting skittish. It required all their strength to keep a tight rein on them. In front, Fidelma saw the herd of deer making slow progress, grazing as they went. The wind held no fears for them or for the great antlered stag who paused now and then, like some impressivestatue, staring down at them as if anxiously watching their progress as they climbed steadily upwards. The stag would pause for a while and then turn, with a curious barking bellow, and urge his charges to increase their pace. They would bound upwards for a while before pausing once more to graze.

The path was almost indistinguishable from the grazed grassy inclines around them but Fidelma pressed on, moving at an easy pace around the shoulder of the rounded hill. The winds were bluff and Eadulf found himself bending his head, not only to avoid contact with the wide open spaces but to meet the onslaught of the strong gusts. He prayed that his horse would not become too skittish for he did not know whether he would be able to hold on to the beast.

Suddenly he was aware of Fidelma halting.

‘What is it?’ he demanded.

‘See for yourself,’ she replied.

Eadulf plucked up courage for a quick nervous glance.

The L-shaped valley stretched away below them. He had an impression of some buildings far below and he dropped his gaze as soon as he could.

‘What is it?’ he asked again. ‘Archú’s valley?’

Fidelma turned and gazed at him thoughtfully.

‘Do heights bother you, Eadulf?’ she asked in concern.

Eadulf bit his lip. There was no point denying it.

‘Not heights exactly,’ he replied. ‘It is a fear of being on high exposed places, not so much of falling downwards but of falling outwards. Does that sound strange?’

Fidelma shook her head slowly.

‘You should have told me,’ she rebuked softly.

‘I would not be of use to anyone if I confessed this fear.’

‘My mentor, Morann of Tara, once said that a mouse can drink no more than its fill from the stream.’

Eadulf was puzzled.

‘That sounds like an obscure philosophy.’

‘Not so. We must recognise our weaknesses as well as our strengths. Only then shall we know the strength in our weakness and the weakness in our strength.’

‘Are you telling me that I should have accepted my fear and told you?’

‘What else should you have done? Had I been forewarned then I might have been prepared if anything had happened.’

Eadulf sighed impatiently. He disliked talking about his weaknesses.

‘This is not the time and especially not the place to debate my failings.’

Fidelma was immediately contrite.

‘Of course,’ she said consolingly. The contriteness was not suited to her character but it seemed genuine enough. ‘I am not thinking clearly. From now on we shall be descending. You were right. Below is Archú’s farmstead. This is the valley of the Black Marsh.’

Eadulf set his shoulders.

‘Then let us set forth,’ he said irritably. ‘The sooner we begin the descent then the sooner we shall reach the bottom.’

Fidelma continued to lead the way carefully. The deer herd had drifted off some way and Fidelma observed that they had left the main track. While steep, it was not impossible to move along at a reasonable pace. Only now and then did they have to pause to negotiate some sheer part of the path, where a drop of only two feet caused the elevation to seem more precipitous than it actually was. At one or two points, they had to twist and turn and double back on themselves several times within a space of a few yards. But eventually they came to the more gentle lower slopes of the hill where clumps of ash trees and briars formed a boundary marker through which they found a reasonable pathway.

As they emerged from the copse of ash and beech they found two horsemen waiting for them. They were both armed with bows, arrows drawn.

‘Sister Fidelma!’

The startled voice of Archú halted them. Fidelma supposed that the second man was one of the men Dubán had left behind. Archú immediately put down his bow and was apologetic.

‘We did not know who you were.’

‘We saw two figures coming over the shoulder of the hill. A strange route,’ muttered the warrior with him.

‘Strange and dangerous,’ sighed Eadulf, wiping the sweat from his brow.

‘We have been watching you for the past hour for my companion here spotted you soon after you appeared over the hill. Why were you taking that precipitous path? It is only sheep and deer that I have seen upon the mountain.’

‘It is a long story, Archú,’ Fidelma replied. ‘And if Scoth could provide us with some refreshment we shall tell it to you.’

‘Of course,’ Archú agreed eagerly. ‘Forgive me. Let us ride up to the farmhouse.’

The warrior was still looking suspiciously up at the mountain.

‘Were you being followed, sister?’ he asked.

Fidelma shook her head.

‘Not that I know of. Did you see anyone following us?’

‘No. But we must be careful. Have you heard that Muadnat has been killed?’

‘Yes. We came here some hours ago and saw Dubán on the road. He told us that he had left you and another man to guard young Archú in case Agdae decided to do something foolish.’

Archú turned to his companion.

‘Perhaps, you should stay here a while and check if anyone else comes over the hill. But I shall take Sister Fidelma and Brother Eadulf to my house.’

The warrior accepted the instruction without comment.

Fidelma and Eadulf followed Archú towards the distant farmstead.

‘This is a bad, bad business, sister. If Dubán had not left his men behind yesterday, so that they were witness to the fact that Ihad not stirred from the farmstead, then I have no doubt that I would be in grave trouble.’

Fidelma did not bother to answer. That much was obvious.

‘I knew Muadnat all my life and although he hated me, I cannot say his death leaves me unmoved. But he was my cousin. May he rest in peace.’

‘Amen to that,’ agreed Eadulf, having recovered his spirits a little.

‘And how do you stand with Agdae? Did you know he was Muadnat’s adopted son?’

Archú grimaced.

‘That I did. He is also my cousin. His parents were killed in some pestilence many years ago. Agdae survived and Muadnat brought him up in his own home. My mother told me that Muadnat wanted her to marry him but she rejected Agdae for my father. We did not like each other, I confess it freely. He was raised with Muadnat’s lack of tolerance and dislike of me.’

‘And you dislike him in turn?’

‘I cannot say that I could feel other than dislike. Agdae is not a likable person.’

‘Who do you think killed your cousin?’ Fidelma asked the question sharply.

Archú was silent for a time; for such a long period, in fact, that Eadulf thought he was refusing to answer the question. But then the young man gave a long sigh.

‘I do not know. Nothing makes sense any more. The deaths of Eber and Teafa were distant to me. Their deaths did not really concern me. But Muadnat’s death was closer to me, even though I disliked him. I do not understand it.’

Scoth greeted them at the farmhouse door.

The second warrior whom Dubán had left behind had come forward to take their horses.

Archú led the way inside.

‘There is cider to drink,’ Scoth said, going to fetch a jug and mugs.

Eadulf smiled appreciatively.

‘A blessing on you for that,’ he said. ‘My throat is shrivelled for want of a drink.’

Archú bade them be seated while Scoth poured the drinks and offered a bowl of fruit.

Eadulf finished most of his mug in a single draught with a deep gasping sigh while Fidelma sipped more gently and appreciatively at her drink.

‘I would have a care, Eadulf,’ she admonished as her companion allowed his mug to be refilled. ‘This is a potent distillation.’

Archú grimaced mirthlessly.

‘At least Muadnat had the goodness to leave a few barrels of this cider behind.’

Scoth was deprecating.

‘Well, it was my own hands that brewed it on his behalf. Better is it that I taste the fruits of my own labour than Muadnat had quaffed it all.’

Fidelma took another sip and turned her gaze to Archú.

‘Have you spent all your life in this valley?’

Archú was surprised by the question.

‘Yes. I was born in this very farmstead and raised here until my mother died. Then Muadnat took over and I was sent to sleep in the barns with the animals until I reached the age of choice and brought my claim to Lios Mhór. I knew nowhere else apart from this valley until I came to Lios Mhór. Why do you ask?’

‘How about the land on the other side of the hill?’

‘You mean the hill which we saw you riding over?’

‘I do.’

‘I know that the hill belongs to this farm.’

‘I thought the farm consisted of seven cumals of valley land?’

‘There are only four cumals in the valley itself. There are three divisions of land on the farm: the arable land which you see around the farm; the land of the three roots-’

Eadulf looked up from his drink fascinated.

‘The what?’ he asked. ‘I have never heard of that expression before.’

‘You’ll find it in our laws,’ Fidelma explained. ‘According to our ancient classification you will see that the richest soil of a farm is known by the presence of three weeds remarkable for their large roots; that is the thistle, ragwort and the wild carrot. If the land is rich enough for them to grow, then it is highly prized land and can produce many things.’

Eadulf shook his head in bewilderment.

Fidelma was turning back to Archú.

‘But that hill belongs to the farm, you say?’

‘It is the part of the farm called the axe-land. If anything is to grow on the hill apart from the furze and trees, it would require much labour to clear it for cultivation.’

‘But the hill does belong to this farm?’

‘Oh yes. Even Muadnat would not dispute the boundary of it.’

‘I see. Do you know the hill well?’

‘I know it.’

‘But have you explored it?’

Archú sat back clearly bewildered.

‘Why would I want to explore it?’

‘It rises on one side of your arable land and is part of your farmstead.’

‘I have only just been granted leave to run this farm, as you know, sister. When have I had time to explore the hills surrounding it?’

‘When you were a child?’

‘A child?’ He shook his head. ‘I did not wander over those hills as a child.’

‘What do you know of caves in this area?’

To Archú the question seemed an abrupt change of conversation. He shrugged.

‘I have heard of caves to the north of here. There is the Cave of the Grey Sheep which my mother used to tell me about. Shetold me that once a grey lamb came forth out of the cave and was reared by a local farmer. The lamb grew into a sheep and the sheep eventually produced her own lambs. But the day came when the farmer decided to slaughter one of her lambs for food and the sheep gathered her remaining lambs and vanished with them into the cave. They were never seen again.’

Fidelma was impatient.

‘How about mines? Did you ever hear of mines in these hills?’

Archú thought carefully before shaking his head.

‘There may be mines but I could not point you to one. What is all this about?’

‘We found …’ began Eadulf but winced on receiving a sharp kick under the table from Fidelma.

Archú and Scoth gazed at Eadulf in surprise.

‘We found that we wanted to know some of the geography of the area,’ Fidelma said before turning to regard Eadulf with concern. ‘You appear to have had a sharp pain, brother. Did I not warn you that the cider was potent?’

Eadulf grimaced in annoyance.

‘It is nothing,’ he muttered. ‘Perhaps a cramp from walking.’

‘It has been a long day and we have not eaten. We should return to the rath.’

‘But you must stay and eat with us,’ Scoth invited.

Reluctantly, Fidelma shook her head.

‘Alas, we cannot. If we don’t leave now we shall not return until after nightfall. Not a time to be abroad on unknown roads.’

They made their farewells and began to ride back towards Araglin.

‘You did not have to kick me so hard, Fidelma,’ admonished Eadulf sulkily. ‘You should have told me if you did not want the young ones to know what we had discovered on the hill.’

‘I am sorry, Eadulf. But it is best that we keep our own counsel for a while. It is clear that someone wanted to keep that mine a secret. The logical answer is, as it is on Archú’s land, that Muadnatwas trying to operate the mine without anyone knowing, especially young Archú. The path to the mine leads from his land. So have we stumbled across the real reason why Muadnat was so desperate to cling to ownership of his cousin’s property?’

Eadulf whistled softly.

‘I see. Muadnat was trying to keep the land in order to exploit the mine.’

‘A mine belongs to the person on whose land it is. The permission of that person must be given before it can be worked by anyone else,’ agreed Fidelma.

‘Yes, but that does not get us anywhere near solving the mystery of the murder of Eber and Teafa.’

‘Perhaps not. But it is strange that Menma seems to keep appearing in this mystery and …’

She halted so abruptly that Eadulf wondered if she had spotted some new danger and anxiously searched the surrounding countryside.

‘What is it?’ he demanded after a while.

‘I am a fool!’

Eadulf was quiet.

‘I should have spotted this before.’

‘Spotted what?’ Eadulf tried to keep his curiosity in check.

‘Menma. Remember how I said it was Menma who led the attack on Bressal’s hostel?’

‘Yes.’

‘And now Menma appears at the mine?’

‘Yes. But I do not see …’

‘What was the connection between Bressal and mines?’ demanded Fidelma.

Eadulf appeared to be thinking carefully.

Fidelma almost ground her teeth with frustration at his slowness.

‘Bressal had a brother …’

Memory returned to Eadulf.

‘Morna who was a miner. He had a collection of rocks …’

‘More importantly,’ interrupted Fidelma, ‘Morna had returned home recently saying he had made some discovery which would make him rich. He took Bressal a rock.’

Eadulf rubbed his chin.

‘I am not sure that I follow.’

Fidelma was patient.

‘I believe that the rock came from the cave on Archú’s land. That was the spot which Morna had found contained gold and which he believed would make him rich. I believe that Menma attacked Bressal’s hostel in order to recover the rock.’

‘Why?’

‘Because the find was meant to be kept a secret. Bressal’s brother Morna betrayed the secret.’

‘Are you saying that Menma is in charge of this mine? I would not have thought him intelligent enough.’

‘I think you are right. Someone else is behind this affair. It comes back to Muadnat. Menma was merely ordered to ensure that whatever Morna had told and shown his brother Bressal remained a secret. It was a coincidence that we were at the hostel at the time and were able to drive off the attack.’

Eadulf shook his head as he digested this.

‘I had suspected that the attack was inspired by Muadnat to get rid of Archú,’ he said. ‘For Muadnat would have known Archú would have been staying there that night on his return.’

‘I thought of that at first but then Muadnat knew that Archú and Scoth had no money to stay in a hostel. Also, being on foot, they would hardly have reached the hostel that night. But we carried them on our horses. Remember that I also paid for their lodgings? No, there was another motive and we have found it.’

‘Then the reason was simply to keep the secret of whatever riches have been discovered in that cave?’

‘I am sure. I think that I became sure yesterday.’

Eadulf looked helpless.

‘You have lost me, Fidelma,’ he confessed.

‘Yesterday we discovered an unknown body on Archú’s farm. It was a body of someone who was neither farmer nor warrior. The calloused hands, the dust of hewn rock which lay on the man’s clothing told me that he belonged to one particular profession.’

Eadulf’s eyes lit up.

‘You recognised that he was a miner?’

‘I also asked you whether he reminded you of anyone.’

‘He did not.’

‘You should be more observant, Eadulf. He had the same features as Bressal. The unfortunate corpse was Morna, the brother of Bressal, the hostel keeper.’

Fidelma lapsed into a contemplative silence as they continued their journey through the valley of Araglin to the rath.

Crón appeared to be anxiously awaiting their arrival, standing by the door of the assembly hall to receive them.