Peter Tremayne - The Dove of Death

Eadulf muttered: ‘Well, this young lord seems friendly enough.’

‘This is Macliau, the son of Lord Canao, the mac’htiern of Brilhag,’ replied Brother Metellus quietly.

‘It is good to see you again, Brother Metellus,’ greeted the young man slightly effusively. ‘You do not often grace us with your presence. I thought you had been exiled to the island of the duckling for arguing with our good friend Abbot Maelcar.’

Brother Metellus returned the youth’s cynical grin with a slight bow.

‘I think that you will know how easy it is to argue with Abbot Maelcar,’ he replied dryly. ‘My companions are the Lady Fidelma from Hibernia and her husband Brother Eadulf, a Saxon.’

‘You are all welcome to the house of Brilhag,’ announced the young man in fluent Latin. ‘I am Macliau and I greet you in the absence of my father, Lord Canao.’

He bowed his head to Fidelma and then acknowledged Eadulf with a quick smile. Close up, Fidelma saw the flaw in the young man’s handsome features. There was something dissipated about them. A weak jawline perhaps, and the eyes were rheumy and cheeks too flushed.

A male attendant had entered and was now hovering discreetly in the background, ready to obey Macliau’s wishes.

‘First, we have to perform the protocol of our house,’ the young man announced in a bored fashion. ‘Do any of you carry weapons?’

Eadulf could not disguise his surprised expression.

Macliau laughed outright at it.

‘Do not be concerned. My father is a man of traditions. There is a custom, a very ancient custom here, that no one can enter the hall of the mac’htiern of Brilhag as a guest if he is bearing weapons.’ He moved to a door and, taking down a key from a hook beside it, unlocked it. He threw open the door and pointed inside. They saw a small armoury of swords, spears, daggers and other instruments of war. ‘All weapons must be discarded by visitors and placed here. They are returned when a person leaves the great hall.’

‘It is also an ancient custom in my land,’ Fidelma acknowledged. ‘When people sit down to feast, it is the custom that all weapons should be left outside the feasting hall. And perhaps it is a good custom, too, for when one is drinking and arguing, tempers can grow hot. In anger, one’s impulse might be to reach for a weapon.’

‘Just so,’ agreed the young man. ‘My father insists on the continuance of this custom and many have been the times that he has beaten me for not observing it. So, even in his absence, I follow the rule in case word gets back to him.’ He stared with apparent distaste at the array of weapons stored there. ‘Thankfully, I am no warrior. Fighting and bloodshed — I abhor them. There are better things to occupy one in life.’

Eadulf smiled in agreement, saying, ‘We of the religious do not carry weapons but only a knife to cut our meat.’

‘Then enter freely and receive the hospitality of the son of the mac’htiern of Brilhag,’ replied the young man, finishing what was obviously the ritual. He shut the door and motioned them towards the fire in the great hearth at the far end of the chamber. ‘May I offer you all refreshment?’

They chose cider, which was the main drink of the country, and Macliau relayed their wishes to the attendant who duly hurried away to fulfil them. He waved them to seats and, as he slouched into his own chair, the little dog rose and came forward to spread itself at his feet with a contented sigh.

‘So what brings you to our shores, lady?’ asked the young man, reaching down in an absent fashion to fondle the ears of the animal whose tail began to beat contentedly on the floor. ‘It is not often that we see wandering religious, especially one who is referred to by a noble form of address. I am sure Brother Metellus, who is a stickler for protocol in such matters, did not make a slip of the tongue when he introduced you.’

Fidelma had made up her mind to stick to the truth. It was pointless to pretend otherwise. She told their story briefly and without mentioning the dove emblem that had brought them to Brilhag.

The young man seemed to accept the news of the attack on the merchants with equanimity.

‘I knew Biscam,’ he said. ‘He often traded with us. You say that he and all his men are slain?’

Fidelma had neglected to mention the one survivor and did not enlighten him, merely saying: ‘Biscam is dead and all his pack animals and goods have been stolen.’

‘And the thieves? Do you know where they have gone?’ demanded the young man.

‘They have disappeared through the marshy area near here,’ Fidelma replied.

The young man was silent for a moment and then shook his head sadly.

‘I am afraid that during the last week we have begun to hear stories of several robberies, attacks on isolated farmsteads on this peninsula. It is said that the raiders come from a ship and each time grow bolder. My father is away at the court of King Alain and means to escort him and his entourage here. But he is not due to return for several days yet. I will send four of my men to retrieve the bodies and take them to the abbey. Doubtless, Abbot Maelcar will want to perform the obsequies over them.’

Brother Metellus expressed his approval.

‘Your men should have a care, for we do not know whether the cut-throats have entirely left the area,’ he advised.

‘I fear there is little we can do to trace the thieves at this late hour. However, I will order Boric to keep a special watch.’

Fidelma was regarding Macliau thoughtfully.

‘Did you say that your King is coming here?’ she queried.

‘King Alain,’ the young man confirmed.

‘Does he visit here often?’

Macliau shook his head. ‘He comes as my father’s guest to hunt. This area is famous for its deer and boar.’

‘It could be dangerous for the King and his entourage with such murderers and thieves about,’ Fidelma pointed out.

The young man gave a confident laugh.

‘I think not, lady. Rather it would be more dangerous for the thieves once the King and my father arrive here, for they will come in the company of their warriors. Meanwhile, my own men are on the watch for these brigands — and when they catch them…’He made a sharp gesture with his hand.

‘Even so, the Lady Fidelma is right. Forewarned is to be forearmed,’ Brother Metellus said cautiously. ‘Perhaps word should be sent to King Alain and your father?’

‘I take your point, Brother Metellus. But I assure you that they have nothing to fear here. If these thieves and warriors have managed to sneak into my father’s domain, then they will not like the reception my father shall give them.’

Just then, they heard voices beyond one of the doors. Macliau put his head to one side and grimaced. The dog raised his head and gave a little growl but did not move.

‘I think this is my sister, returning.’

As he spoke, the door was thrown open and a girl entered. Even from across the shadowy great hall, Fidelma and Eadulf could see that she was the twin of Macliau. Behind her came a tall young man with fair hair. The girl flung off her cape in an almost petulant gesture and was about to speak when she saw the group by the fire.

‘We have visitors who bring us worrying news,’ announced Macliau. ‘And we are in need of your skills, Bleidbara.’

He continued to speak in Latin and the girl responded in the same language.

‘Worrying news?’ she repeated, and her voice held the same high timbre as that of her brother. It was unattractive.

Fidelma and her companions rose from their chairs as the newcomers came forward. Macliau waved a hand in introduction.

‘This is the Lady Fidelma, who is sister to a King of Hibernia; her companion is Brother Eadulf and, of course, you will remember Brother Metellus from the abbey. This is my sister, the Lady Trifina. And this is Bleidbara, who is the commander of my…my father’s bodyguard.’