Peter Tremayne - The Leper's bell

Could there be any future for them as man and wife?

It was the one time she felt that the ascetics were right. The religious should not marry but lead a life of celibacy. Once again she was starting thinking about the fact that the end of the trial marriage was approaching, when, under the law, without renewing their vows, she and Eadulf could claim incompatibility and go their separate ways.

It happened without warning and she momentarily cursed her lack of those senses that should have warned her.

Suddenly, two mounted warriors emerged on to the track, blocking the path before her. There was a sound behind her and glancing swiftly over her shoulder she saw a dozen or so more gathering on the path at her back. She did not need a close examination of the banner and arms they carried to realise they were Uí Fidgente.

She turned back to face their leader.

He was a tall, well-muscled man, with a shock of black hair, grey eyes and the livid white of a scar across his left cheek.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

‘Conrí!’

Conrí, warlord of the Uí Fidgente, smiled complacently as he came forward.

When Eadulf awoke, the morning was bright but cold. A frost lay on the ground and only a few wispy clouds, high up, stood out against the soft blue of the sky, hardly moving at all. There was no wind to speak of. Eadulf set out early from the inn and crossed into the valley beyond. Within a few hours he began to smell the salt tang of the open sea. He could just see a strip of blue slightly to the south-west.

The road was easy and before long he spotted the grey buildings of an abbey complex standing where a river emptied into a bay. Around the abbey were several buildings, a small settlement which stretched on both sides of the river. To the north-west of these he saw foothills rising swiftly into tall and spectacular mountains.

He rode towards the complex. Before the abbey’s walls was a broad green. His heart beat faster when he saw a covered wagon drawn up nearby, away from the buildings of the little settlement. Two horses were grazing nearby. There was a fire lit close to the wagon, and a man was stirring something in a small cauldron that hung on a tripod over it. Seated on the step of the wagon was a woman feeding a baby from her ample bosom. Under an awning Eadulf saw a table on which various herbs and plants were arrayed, and strips of dried plants were hanging from poles. It was clearly the stall of a herbalist. Scarcely daring to believe his luck at tracking down those he sought, Eadulf guided his horse towards the wagon and dismounted.

The man straightened from where he had been stirring the cauldron. He was of middle age, with thin, dark features. He smiled as he surveyed Eadulf’s attire.

‘God be with you, Brother.’

‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph be your guides,’ replied Eadulf solemnly. ‘I am called Eadulf.’

He watched for any hint that the name might mean something to the man, but it did not appear to carry any significance. Instead, he was waved to a seat by the fire.

‘Come, join us, for the day is chill, Brother Eadulf. I perceive that you are a Saxon. I am called Corb and that is my wife Corbnait. What manner of potion or balm do you seek, my friend?’

Eadulf regarded the herbalist for a moment. He glanced at the woman with the baby, who smiled in greeting to him. Then he decided not to prevaricate.

‘In truth, Corb, I came in search of you and your wife. I have followed you from Cashel.’

The woman’s smile changed into an anxious look and it seemed she held the baby more tightly to her breast.

‘We have done nothing wrong,’ she said at once. The man threw her what was clearly a warning glance.

‘I did not say you had,’ replied Eadulf mildly. ‘Is there any reason why I should think so?’

‘What do you want with us?’ demanded the man called Corb, slightly belligerently. ‘Have you followed us in search of cures?’

‘You have come from Cashel.’ Eadulf made it a statement.

‘We are from the kingdom of Laigin. It is true that our route here lay through Cashel.’

‘I see you have a fine, bouncing baby there.’

Corbnait blinked nervously.

‘God was good to me,’ she muttered. ‘I am blessed with my son.’

Eadulf tried not to sound excited.

‘So this is your only child?’

‘It is. We call him Corbach.’

‘Yet you have been seen travelling on the road with two babies.’ Eadulf’s voice was suddenly sharp.

The woman gave an audible gasp and her features went pale. Corb tried to sound defensive.

‘Who says so?’ he demanded.

Eadulf smiled up at him. ‘Come, herbalist. Do you remember travelling through Cashel?’

Corb hesitated. ‘We did not travel through Cashel.’ He placed an accent on the word.

‘By Cashel, round Cashel. Do not play semantics with me. Do you remember going into an inn for food — Ferloga’s inn, just south of Cashel?’

The herbalist’s lips thinned. ‘If you check with the innkeeper’s wife at that place, she will tell you that we only had one baby.’

‘Exactly so.’ Eadulf’s voice was tight. ‘That is what brought me all this way after you. You only had one baby when you were at Ferloga’s inn. Yet witnesses along the road saw that your wife carried two babies. How did this miracle come about?’ He sat back and stared interrogatively at the herbalist and then at his wife.

Corbnait was clearly confused.

‘We cannot be accused of anything,’ she suddenly said. ‘The child was unwanted.’

Eadulf sighed deeply. He hid the smile of satisfaction.

‘I think that you should start to explain,’ he said softly. ‘Where did you pick up this “unwanted” child?’

The man seemed about to protest but the woman shook her head.

‘The Saxon brother has followed us from Cashel, husband. We must tell the truth.’ She turned to Eadulf. ‘My husband, Corb, is a herbalist and we are poor. We rely on what we sell by way of cures and potions. My husband was expelled from his clan several years ago, as was I. You see, we eloped. We were both married to others at the time but we could not help our love for one another. So our union was forbidden and our child born of this union is outcast. That is why we have taken to the roads, selling where we can without hope of settling down in one place.’

She paused. The herbalist was nodding in agreement with her account.

‘Go on,’ Eadulf said. ‘What happened in Cashel?’

Corb took up the story.

‘We wanted to stay at the inn for it was a cold night. Ferloga’s inn, that is. But while the innkeeper’s wife would have been happy to accommodate us in exchange for a medicine that I had given her, a salve for a lesion on her leg, the innkeeper was still hostile. He would have none of us. So we left the inn and drove our wagon further along the road towards Cashel. Night was upon us but we found a small track by a stream and turned along it, coming to a clearing. We decided to stay in our wagon for the night.’

‘You lit no fire? Surely that is unusual?’ Eadulf asked.

‘Perhaps,’ replied the man. ‘But I was uneasy about attracting attention. Some people, like the innkeeper, dislike those who take to the roads. I did not even unharness the horses but threw a blanket over them as they stood in the shafts. I meant only to sleep for an hour or so and then move to the north-east so that we might avoid passing through Cashel. I wanted to avoid any hostility.

‘It was well before midnight when I was awoken. It was a clear night and I could see from the position of the moon and stars that it was still fairly early. Something had disturbed me. A hound was howling nearby.’

His wife, Corbnait, nodded in agreement. ‘The hound also awakened me. Then I heard someone shouting.’