Peter Tremayne - Dancing With Demons

Nearer to where he stood with his captors, there were some rough wooden buildings and cooking fires, around which some women sat. But there were no signs of any children, only adults.

He became aware of one of the women approaching him.

She was tall, and her raven-black hair tumbled down almost to her waist. A silver headband bearing a strange crescent design held the hair in place around her forehead. Her features were angular but striking; the dark eyes flashed with some inner fire. It was a face used to command. It was also a face that he felt he had seen before — but could not think where. Eadulf also saw that around her neck and stretching across her chest was a great semi-circular collar. Then he realised that it was a silver equivalent of the great necklet that Fidelma had shown him in Cashel. The one she had found in the room of the dead guest at Ferloga’s inn; the one she had said was a symbol of the Druids, the priests of the old gods.

His captors thrust him forward to face the woman by the expedient of prodding him with the tip of their swords. They all seemed to treat the woman with reverence.

In spite of the ropes binding him, Eadulf drew himself up, staring at her with his chin thrust forward defensively.

The woman halted before him. She was nearly half a head taller than he was. She looked down at him, and her thin lips parted in a smile without warmth. Her dark eyes seemed to bore deeply into his.

‘Well, a Christian prisoner. You are welcome, my friend, welcome to Sliabh na Caillaigh.’

‘The Mountain of the Hag?’ Eadulf was frowning. He seemed to have heard the name before.

‘You are a Saxon by your accent,’ she observed.

‘I am Eadulf, of Seaxmund’s Ham in the land of the South Folk,’ he replied proudly. ‘Who are you?’

The woman laughed without humour.

‘That is not for strangers to know, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham in the land of the South Folk,’ she replied, mimicking his accent.

The woman was accompanied by several warriors. One of her entourage a fair-haired man, seemed familiar to Eadulf and he struggled to think where he had seen the man before. He found it curious that there were several things here that seemed known to him: the ornament at the woman’s neck, her features — and now the face of this warrior.

Then the leader of his captors moved forward and addressed the woman, but with bowed head.

‘Ceannard, this man claims to be husband to Fidelma of Cashel. We have heard that there was a female and male religious accompanied by two southern warriors at Tara recently.’

‘Is this true?’ demanded the woman, staring at Eadulf with sudden interest.

Eadulf smiled. ‘Perhaps that is not for you to know,’ he replied, with an attempt to mimic her.

The black-bearded warrior at his side struck him with the flat of his sword and Eadulf staggered a pace, biting his lip to stop from uttering a sound at the pain.

The woman turned behind her and called to one of the warriors nearby. ‘Come forth and see if you recognise this man.’

The warrior came forward to examine him.

‘That is the man called Brother Eadulf,’ he confirmed.

Eadulf immediately recognised Cuan, the short, dark warrior of the Fianna who had fled from Tara.

‘He was in the company of Fidelma of Cashel who was sent for to investigate Sechnussach’s death,’ the man continued. ‘They were accompanied by two warriors of the Nasc Niadh, the golden collar, in the service of the King of Muman. I saw them all at Tara.’

‘They will be searching for me even now,’ Eadulf defiantly, ‘as they are searching for you, Cuan. I am told the Fianna dislike deserters and traitors and have ways of dealing with them.’

‘Their search will be in vain,’ snapped Cuan, ‘and you will be dead before they find you.’ He raised his sword threateningly but the woman stayed him with a sharp command.

‘Do not harm him lest you incur my displeasure, Cuan. And do not underestimate this man’s companion,’ she rebuked. ‘I have heard of Fidelma of Cashel. She is very clever and in other circumstances I wouldwelcome her to my homestead. She is a defender of many of the old ways against these pernicious ideas that are being spread through these lands. She is also an advocate of the ancient laws and that makes a worthy enemy.’

Cuan was immediately obeisant.

‘Where is she now?’ demanded the woman of Eadulf.

As Eadulf set his jaw firmly, his black-beareded captor moved forward and said confidently, ‘Ceannard, I will send two of my men to find out.’

The woman smiled thinly at him. ‘You mean that you don’t know already?’ she sneered.

‘We came upon the Saxon on the track to Delbna Mór. He was travelling with a survivor from Fobhair. We killed the other man. They rode with no one else.’

This was greeted with a frown.

‘You allowed someone from Fobhair to survive?’ There was a threat in her voice.

The man’s face paled considerably. ‘But I killed him when I found him.’

‘How many others didn’t you find, who escaped from Fobhair? And he was travelling with this Saxon — travelling to Delbna Mór? Did you not work out what that means!’

The questions were asked in an icy tone.

The leader of the raiders looked confused.

‘I will tell you, you son of a pig. It means that the Saxon had already passed through Fobhair and was returning to Delbna Mór. It may also mean that Fidelma of Cashel was with him and may even now be on her way to Tara to raise the Fianna.’ She turned to Eadulf. ‘Is that so, Saxon? Were you travelling with Fidelma of Cashel?’

Eadulf simply shrugged.

‘I’ll beat the truth out of him, ceannard,’ swore the black-bearded warrior.

‘Oaf! You will never beat anything out of a man like this. You have little judgement of men. You can rip this one apart but he is stubborn. If he does not want to tell you, he will not tell you.’ The woman raised her voice. ‘Ensure that all our lookouts are doubled from now on. You will answer to me later. Meanwhile, take the Saxon and put him with the old man. A Saxon Christian will be a suitable gift for the Great One when the time comes.’

The man turned meekly away with a hand raised to his forehead inacknowledgement. Then he gestured to two of the warriors, who seized Eadulf with rough hands. He was hauled and pushed once more towards a strange, grey stone building which looked like one half of a great scallop shell, lying flat on the ground. There were several other similar constructions in the vicinity, but this was by far the largest. As he was marched towards it, Eadulf noticed some more recent wooden constructions nearby — pens for horses and other animals. He estimated that there must be at least a hundred or more fighting men and their women encamped on the hill and they held a good defensive position.

He gave an inward sigh. What was he thinking about, assessing their defences when there was no one who was going to storm this place to rescue him? He had not reached Delbna Mór to warn Brother Céin, let alone Tara. He wondered whether Fidelma had realised yet that the raiders had doubled back. He had to face the fact that he was on his own.

The two warriors shoved him towards an entrance in the stone construction, which was revealed when a wicker gateway was swung aside. It was a small, narrow passage that seemed to lead into the bowels of the earth like the entrance to a tomb.

One of the men pointed along it. ‘Down there, Saxon!’

Eadulf hung back, warily examining the darkness.

‘Where does it lead?’ he demanded.

The man sniggered and then struck him viciously across the face. Eadulf saw the blow coming and leaned backwards to defuse the force but it stung nevertheless.