Peter Tremayne - The Dove of Death

At a signal, his men doused the fire, gathered the weapons of the raiders and some few items they found on their persons, and tied their horses together on a lead rope. Then they remounted and started back along the track at a swift canter.

‘Bleidbara has returned,’ Iuna announced as she moved to the doors of the great hall. Those gathered there had already heard the call of the trumpet from the main gates.

Even before Iuna spoke, the gates had swung open and the warriors, closely followed by Eadulf, came in. Behind them was the pale figure of Ceingar, looking dishevelled. She gazed quickly around, saw Riwanon and ran to her, casting herself on her knees before her and speaking rapidly, sobbing as she did so. Riwanon replied sternly and turned to Iuna, saying something. Iuna moved forward and helped the girl to her feet and, after a few words from Riwanon to Ceingar, led her away.

‘The girl is distraught,’ Riwanon told Fidelma, ‘so I have sent her to clean herself and rest.’

‘I would like to question her,’ Fidelma said. ‘We need to find out as much as we can about these attackers.’

‘It will have to be later when she is more composed,’ the Queen replied firmly.

‘Very well.’ Fidelma turned to Eadulf with a warning look to convey that she did not want him to discuss his observations in front of the others.

Bleidbara, however, recounted what had happened.

‘Thanks be that you were able to save poor Ceingar.’ Riwanon looked sad. ‘I can only imagine the fate that those beasts had in store for her. But my warriors, ah…it distresses me. Both killed, you say?’

‘We were unable to recover their bodies. Ceingar said that only she was taken alive in the ambush,’ Bleidbara replied. ‘She was not sure what the captors did with the bodies, but they took their horses. We have, of course, brought all the horses back to the fortress with us.’

‘And you say that this attacking party split into two — that some of them went on shipboard while the others, together with the girl, rode towards the north-east?’ asked Fidelma.

‘That is so, lady,’ Bleidbara agreed.

‘It is a pity that you didn’t take one of those men prisoner,’ commented Trifina, ‘then we should have found out the truth about this Koulm ar Maro .’

Bleidbara seemed a little irritated by the criticism.

‘Lady, they did not want to surrender,’ he replied stiffly. ‘They fought to the death, with a fanatical zeal that I have not seen before.’

‘You found that curious?’ Fidelma was interested by the comment.

‘It was unusual,’ agreed the warrior. ‘Our warriors might not contemplate surrender to the Franks, but with our own people, they know they would not be badly treated.’

‘And you gave them the opportunity to surrender?’

‘I am not in the habit of slaughtering men who would rather live, lady,’ he replied firmly.

‘Of course not. I just wanted to be sure that I had the facts.’

‘But we are no further forward than before!’ Trifina said petulantly. ‘My brother still stands accused of murder. These brigands still attack unarmed farmsteads, kill merchants, even attack and capture foreign ships on the high seas — and we still do not know who they are or who is behind them.’

‘We know one thing — that they do so under the flag of the mac’htiern of Brilhag,’ pointed out Riwanon.

‘That is just a ruse to mislead people,’ snapped Trifina, colouring hotly.

Riwanon spread her hands and smiled.

‘But it must be proved, must it not?’ This last question was aimed at Fidelma.

‘That is so,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘The people of this peninsula need to be shown, in a way that leaves little doubt, that these brigands and their leader are not connected with this household.’

‘So it is a pity, Bleidbara, that you were not able to bring one of them here, even if they were wounded,’ ended Riwanon.

Bleidbara coloured. ‘I have already explained that we did not have the opportunity, lady.’

‘But a pity, nevertheless,’ she sighed.

Later, in their chamber after the evening meal, as Fidelma sat combing her long red tresses and preparing for bed, she was able to talk over the matter with Eadulf. She asked him to describe everything that had happened.

‘And you are sure that Bleidbara gave every opportunity to the brigands to surrender so he could take one alive?’

Eadulf confirmed it.

‘We were worried about the fate of the girl, Ceingar,’ he explained. ‘That was why we decided to attack the camp. Our original plan was simply to track them back to their lair. We thought that they would take the horses overland to some secret harbour where we might find the Koulm ar Maro , moored somewhere on the eastern side of the Morbihan.’

‘It was certainly a logical plan,’ agreed Fidelma.

‘Then when we saw one of the brigands having his way with Ceingar…’ Eadulf shrugged. ‘Well, Bleidbara gave the signal to attack. I thought the other two, who were probably waiting their turn with her, poor girl, would surrender when they saw the odds were against them. But they refused and fought with such a fury that it could only have ended with their deaths or our own. Deo adjuvante , Bleidbara’s men were good and the raiders paid the price for their sins.’

‘It is a pity that I am not able to question Ceingar until tomorrow. She might have had some information about the leaders of this band by which we could track them.’

‘She has suffered much, that one,’ Eadulf reflected. ‘Best that she have a good rest to recover from her ordeal. Then her mind will be clearer.’

‘Yes, although sometimes a fresh remembrance of things is more helpful than letting a person rest on the memory. After a time, the mind begins to rationalise, make interpretations of the memory and thereby time distorts it.’

‘It seems that we are no further forward to a solution to all this,’ Eadulf said, rather wearily. ‘We have been dragged into some local mystery not of our own choosing — and, to be honest, we don’t understand the half of it. What makes it worse is that we know almost nothing of the language and have to rely on others for interpretation.’

‘We know a little of the language of the Britons, thanks to our time in the Kingdom of Dyfed. So we have some idea of what is being said.’

Eadulf was moody.

‘A little knowledge is dangerous,’ he grumbled. ‘The words might be similar here but we still have to look to others for detailed information. I do not think we should have become involved in this business. At least, I think Riwanon’s commission to you was ill-advised.’

Fidelma’s mouth tightened.

‘We became involved when my Cousin Bressal was murdered, when our friend Murchad was cut down. We are involved and I will stay involved until I have resolved this mystery.’

Eadulf was about to respond but thought better of it. It was no use arguing when Fidelma was in this kind of mood.

‘Well, I am for bed,’ he said. ‘It has been another long and tiring day, and I am exhausted.’

Annoyed at Eadulf’s lack of understanding, Fidelma did not reply. She sat for a long time by the window looking out onto the shimmering moonlit waters of the Morbihan with its dark shadows of islands. Carefully, she turned over the events of the last few days in her mind. There was something there which nearly made sense…but not quite. She was sure that the answer was almost within her grasp; almost, but not quite. It needed something, some simple key, to make everything fit into place.

‘There is no sign of the girl Iuna this morning,’ remarked Riwanon. ‘Do we have to fend for ourselves?’