Peter Tremayne - Badger's Moon

She turned angrily away. Her anger was directed at the blind prejudice that the smith had displayed. She was about to storm away when she hesitated and turned back to the man. She realised that her anger was as destructive as the prejudice itself. She should be able to understand the origin of his prejudice and by that understanding seek to overcome it instead of allowing her anger to increase his righteous belief in his cause.

‘What is your name, smith?’

‘Gobnuid,’ he replied defiantly.

She had begun to suspect this was his name, having remembered what the abbot had told her. It was ironic that she had met him when she merely wanted to ask any smith about the possibility of gold in the area.

‘Then heed some advice, Gobnuid. Let not fear of that which is different create hatred in your soul. Hatred is but a weak man’s vengeance for being intimidated and made fearful by what he does not understand.’

She still felt anger but now controlled it and made an effort to keep her voice even. Anger was going to be no way to discover truth at Rath Raithlen, and there was enough anger, hate and prejudice here without adding to it. She remembered where she had first heard Gobnuid’s name. It had been from Sirin the cook.

‘I believe that you knew Sirin’s niece, Ballgel?’

The smith shrugged.

‘Who did not know her in Rath Raithlen?’ he responded. ‘We are a small community.’

‘Indeed you are. I have heard that there was some friction between you.’

Gobnuid stared at her in annoyance. ‘Who says this?’

Fidelma’s eyes fell on his nervously clenching hand. ‘Is it not true then? You asked her to dance at the feast of the Blessed Finnbarr and she refused. You were angry and displayed your anger to all there.’

The smith’s mouth compressed into a thin line. ‘It was not anger at the girl. It was anger at those silly youths with whom she consorted. They decided to mock my age and looks because I dared asked her to dance with me. My anger was aimed at them.’

‘So you felt no animosity to the girl when she refused?’

‘I was upset to hear of her death. I had warned her that the night sky could be treacherous.’

Fidelma stared at him.

‘What makes you say that?’ she demanded.

‘Ballgel and the others, they were all going to Liag who filled their minds with silly tales of the moon and the stars. Brocc told me that Escrach was so full of Liag’s silly stories that she was going to consult with the strangers.’

Fidelma tried to hide her amazement. ‘Consult them about what?’

‘About the powers of the moon. Liag told Escrach that the strangers had the power of knowledge and knew many things of the moon’s properties. That is why I believe the strangers should be driven from here.’

Fidelma swallowed hard. So Liag knew about the Aksumites’ interest in star lore?

‘Tell me, Gobnuid. You say that Liag taught star lore to Ballgel and to Escrach. Who else did he teach it to?’

‘To many over the years. Even I often went to sit and listen to his stories.’

‘So boys went as well?’

‘Even Accobrán our tanist,’ agreed the other. ‘But remember that the strangers had the power of knowledge and knew many secrets of the moon. That is evidence enough for me that there was evil afoot in the abbey.’

Fidelma shook her head. ‘Not evidence at all. Remember that, Gobnuid the smith. Remember, I am concerned only in getting to the truth. Let no one try to pre-empt the decision of my investigation, otherwise the law will be made clear to them and the punishment will fit their transgression of it.’

She had walked a short distance from the forge when some instinct made her glance back. Gobnuid was apparently examining something in his hand with a frown of concentration. It sparkled in the glinting light of the forge fire. It was the nugget that he had told her was iron pyrites. Fidelma turned and hurried away.

Eadulf glanced up as Fidelma entered the guestroom. He had already bathed and dressed ready to attend the evening meal in Becc’s feasting hall.

‘You’ll have to hurry,’ he began and then saw her expression. ‘What has happened?’

‘I have just had an interesting conversation with a smith called Gobnuid. There is certainly fear and prejudice against the strangers in this community. I fear that it will not be enough to exonerate them to say that there is no evidence that they are guilty. It must be demonstrated that they are innocent.’

‘Do you really think that they are innocent?’ Eadulf demanded. Fidelma looked sharply at him. ‘Thought has nothing to do with it. Where is the evidence?’

Eadulf’s eyebrows rose at her sharp tone. ‘I would reserve my judgement on their innocence or guilt until I have heard all the evidence. So far there are many questions that remain unasked, let alone unanswered.’

Fidelma compressed her lips for a moment and then slumped on the bed, realising that, perhaps, she was being too sensitive. Of course, Eadulf was right. Was she now beginning to see prejudice where there was none?

‘The Aksumites as good as admitted that one of them was on the hillside that night,’ went on Eadulf. ‘The fact that Brocc could not identify which one of the three is no absolution of guilt. It is, however, an admission of lying and why do people lie? Only when they have something to hide.’

Fidelma sighed deeply. ‘You are right, Eadulf. I am sorry if I was sharp. It is a matter that we must deal with in our search for the truth. But blind prejudice is something I cannot deal with.’ She rose suddenly as she realised the growing lateness of the hour. ‘I must bathe. Go to Becc’s hall and tend my apologies. Say that I shall be there directly.’

It was after they had broken their fast on the next day that Fidelma decided that they should find Goll and his family. This time she told Accobrán that they would travel by horse because the previous day’s walking had been quite exhausting. While the distances had been short, the hilly terrain and small woodland paths had been tiring. The young tanist went off to arrange for their horses to be saddled. While he was doing so, Fidelma and Eadulf took the opportunity to examine the high watchtowers that marked the gates in the triple ramparts of the fortress.

‘Impressive,’ Eadulf commented as he peered up at the constructions.

Impulsively, Fidelma suddenly made for the doorway to one of the towers.

‘Let’s climb up and see what view we can gain of the terrain,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘It will help us get a good perspective of the countryside about.’

With a suppressed groan, Eadulf followed, for he was the first to admit that he had no head for heights. Inside the wooden tower, ladders ran from floor to floor, and Eadulf counted five levels before they emerged on a flat roof. It was bathed in the soft October sun. Eadulf blinked nervously at the scene that unfolded below him. The woods spread like vast carpets of green in all directions, criss-crossed by silver lines that marked the run of rivers through the valleys. And faintly to the north and west he could make out the distant shadows of mountains.

‘A beautiful countryside,’ Fidelma was saying, stretching languorously in the early morning sunlight. Although it was autumn, the sun was growing quite warm. Eadulf could feel it through his clothing. He stood nervously near the hatch through which they had ascended rather than venture to the edge of the tower where Fidelma stood looking down towards the territory they had traversed yesterday. Whether he looked down or whether he looked outwards across the hills from this high point, Eadulf felt an uncomfortable sensation. It was a sense of losing his balance; that he would fall off the earth into the void of the sky. He felt the sweat stand out on his brow.