Peter Tremayne - The Leper's bell

Fidelma exhaled sharply.

‘The punishment is enacted by law,’ she said automatically, ‘and prescribed by law.’

Conrí frowned, glancing up through the trees as if searching for something.

‘It must be well after noon,’ he muttered. ‘Do you know what route the chieftains took?’

Fidelma hesitated a moment or two before replying.

‘They were supposed to ride north from Cashel to join the Suir. I think that they were crossing at the ford by what is called the High Hill, Ard Mael, and heading through the mountains of Slieve Felim.’

‘Once through those mountains, they will be within an easy ride of our country,’ the Uí Fidgente war chief muttered reflectively. ‘I think they’ll have skirted the mountains to the south and headed up through the valley of the Bilboa.’ He suddenly snapped his fingers. ‘If my men and I took the route across the shoulder of Cnoc an Loig and along the road past Cnoc an Báinsí, we could intercept them at Crois na Rae before dawn tomorrow.’

Fidelma looked at him in surprise. ‘Then what?’

‘If there is some evil plan and they and their accomplices are responsible for the kidnapping of your child, we shall discover it. Whatever befalls, if your child has not been returned by tomorrow, you will know that whoever was responsible did not intend to keep their word. There was to be no exchange.’

Fidelma’s face became a taut mask hiding her anguish. What Conrí was saying was correct.

Conrí reached forward a hand and touched her lightly on the arm.

‘I am sorry for your troubles, Fidelma of Cashel. Believe me. But this matter must be resolved. When we find the chieftains and those responsible, where may we find you? At Cashel?’

Fidelma was about to confirm it but then changed her mind. ‘It is not exactly safe for Uí Fidgente warriors to be seen near Cashel at the moment. My horse is exhausted and I was going to seek rest at my brother’s hunting lodge, which is not far from here, at a place called the Well of the Oak Grove. It is only a few miles in that direction.’ She indicated with a wave of her hand. ‘The keeper of the lodge has a son whom I can send back to Cashel with a message that I am resting there for two nights. When you have discovered your quarry you will find me there. But the day after tomorrow I must start back for Cashel.’

Conrí gave her a quick smile of reassurance.

‘With God’s grace, lady, we will find you at the Well of the Oak Grove before tomorrow evening.’

He raised his hand in salute to her and then urged his horse along the path towards the west, followed by his companions.

She felt a curious pang of isolation after they had departed. Now her thoughts were even uneasier than before as she turned the events over in her mind. There were only two possibilities. Conrí was lying to her. Or, if he spoke the truth, there was some plot among the Uí Fidgente to overturn Conrí and the new chiefly house by reinstating the three hostage chiefs, which would mean a return to war between the Uí Fidgente and the Eóghanacht. Her lips thinned as she contemplated the prospect. She sat thinking for a few moments. Then she sighed when she realised that she could come to no conclusions. She eased her tired horse into motion.

Eadulf was aghast as he regarded the herbalist and his wife.

‘You no longer have Alchú? What did you do with him?’

The woman looked nervously at her husband.

‘Speak!’ demanded Eadulf in a tone of anger as he rose from his seat, almost in a threatening manner.

‘Had we known what you have just told us, we would have come directly to the palace of Cashel, believe me,’ muttered the herbalist.

‘Speak!’ demanded Eadulf again. ‘What happened?’

The man raised a shoulder as if to indicate helplessness.

‘Believe me, Brother, we thought the baby had been abandoned. We sold the child to a worthy protector.’

‘Sold …?’

Eadulf sat back down abruptly. The shock took all animation from him. He looked wordlessly from one to the other of them.

‘You see, we had our son,’ went on the herbalist. ‘Our own flesh and blood. We thought that we had been the instrument of saving the other baby for a reason … to help us, as it is a hard life travelling from settlement to settlement in the hope of selling cures and potions and salves. When we fell in with the lord of… you see, it was a means of obtaining some money so that we might settle in one place.’

‘The lord of where?’ Eadulf spoke coldly. ‘What lord?’

‘During our journey here we camped further up the valley near those mountains you see to the north. Well, we were encamped within the shadow of them. We were sitting before our fire and my wife had fed our son and the baby with red hair. We were resting when we heard a bell sound…’

‘A bell?’

‘Into the light of our lantern and campfire came a grey-cloaked figure. He was clad from poll to foot in his robes so that we could see nothing of him, but he rang a bell to announce his approach. Behind him, in the shadows, stood a tall warrior, dark and menacing. The figure seated himself on a log on the far side of the fire and asked for a drink and food.’

The herbalist paused a moment before continuing.

‘I gave him food and like any passing traveller he asked who we were, where we had come from and about the two babies. Now I reflect, he asked us if we had come from Cashel.’

‘Did you tell him of the story of finding Alchú?’ demanded Eadulf.

‘I saw no harm in that, although I did not know the baby was called Alchú, nor anything other than what I told you.’

‘The man said that we had been good servants of the Faith by performing the act of charity in saving the baby,’ the woman said hastily.

‘What then?’

‘He suggested that if we wished to disburden ourselves of the child, he was lord of the territory and he would take the child to his church to be brought up in comfort and in the service of the Christ.’

‘And you agreed?’ gasped Eadulf.

‘The man placed three silver screpalls on the log to compensate us for our trouble.’

‘We thought that we were doing the right thing,’ added the woman.

‘So you handed the baby to a total stranger…?’

‘Not exactly. He told us that he was a lord of that area. Lord of the passes, he said. A warrior attended him, the one who waited silently in the shadows. On our agreement, the tall warrior picked up the child. I am unsure whether this lord had the use of both arms. He certainly had a dragging foot. I found it curious that he carried a hand bell.’

‘What name did you say this man gave you?’ Eadulf asked.

‘We do not know. The warrior simply called him lord.’

‘You know no more? What direction did he ride in? Those mountains are tall and spread widely.’ There was now an anguished helplessness in Eadulf’s voice.

‘There can be few lords in this region of his description,’ offered the herbalist. ‘For myself, I have no wish to know who he was, nor do I wish to encounter him again.’

‘Why so?’

‘In truth, Brother, I felt there was something evil about him.’

‘Yet you handed a innocent baby to his care?’ Eadulf was aghast.

The herbalist and his wife exchanged another look. The woman grimaced towards Eadulf.

‘We did not know for certain that there was anything ill about the man. It was a feeling. The warrior treated him with respect and the man promised to take the child to a sanctuary. We thought that we were doing it for the best. For the sake of the baby. We thought that he had been abandoned.’

Eadulf gestured to the walls of the abbey behind them.

‘I am told that this is the biggest abbey in these parts. The only sanctuary. Have you spoken with the steward? Perhaps this lord brought the child here?’