Peter Tremayne - Badger's Moon

‘I wanted to add something, lady,’ he said quietly. ‘I did not want Suanach to hear.’

They looked at the young hunter expectantly.

‘You realise that Accobrán took no prisoners from the Uí Fidgente?’

‘Indeed,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘I found that something hard to understand.’

Menma inclined his head. ‘Accobrán had the bloodmist on him.’

It was an old term meaning to lose all sense in battle. The old storytellers told how the mythical hero Cúchullain could be engulfed by a battle frenzy when fighting and become possessed of what was known as the ríastrad , such a fury, such a battle madness, that he might slaughter friend as well as foe. The word literally meant an act of contorting but had become applied to the loss of control that a warrior might suffer in a battle fever.

Fidelma gazed at Menma in surprise. ‘You mean that prisoners could have been taken from the Uí Fidgente?’

‘I mean just that, lady. I have not seen a man in the grip of the bloodmist before. He killed three of the Uí Fidgente while they were attempting to surrender.’

‘Thank you, Menma.’

The young man nodded and returned to join his wife.

Fidelma was quiet for a moment while Eadulf waited for her to comment.

‘It is not a good sign for a tanist to lose control in battle. Yet often one hears of warriors doing so, for battle is a terrible experience.’

‘But this was no battle,’ pointed out Eadulf. ‘To surround and capture less than a dozen men is not a task that should provoke such a condition in a trained warrior.’

‘We must bear that in mind,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘Becc should be made aware of the fault, as should his derbfhine if Accobrán is to succeed to the chieftainship. Now where were we? Ah yes, no mention of the cave to anyone unless I say so.’

‘Very well. But between you and me, what does it mean? Why would the Uí Fidgente be searching for that mine? They could not hope to work it and precious little gold would they be able to take before being discovered. I find nothing here that makes any sense at all.’

‘You are right, Eadulf. But we do not have all the facts as yet. Just a few major pieces are beginning to come together, though I believe that I begin to see some sort of pattern emerging.’

‘More than I do,’ sighed Eadulf.

‘Let us have something to eat. Then we will have to confront Brother Dangila and finally go in search of the wily Liag.’

Eadulf was in agreement. ‘I understand the path we are going to tread with Brother Dangila but, frankly, little else.’

After their meal they were riding along the track to the abbey of the Blessed Finnbarr when a small boy nearly ran across their path, causing them to rein in sharply. The boy was Síoda.

‘Hello, Sister.’ The boy halted and greeted Fidelma with a grin of recognition.

‘The very person I wanted to see.’ Fidelma smiled down at him. ‘How would you like to earn a screpall ?’

The boy was definitely interested but regarded her with some suspicion.

‘What do I have to do?’ he asked dubiously.

She reached into her marsupium and pulled out the coin and held it up. ‘Answer a question. Do you remember telling us about that piece of gold that you found?’

The boy pouted. ‘The fool’s gold?’

‘I think that you told us that you found it on the hill near the Ring of Pigs?’

The boy nodded.

‘But Gobnuid said it was fool’s gold,’ he said.

‘He did,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘Can you be more precise as to where you found it? Was it in the cave that stands at the top of the hill, just above the Ring of Pigs?’

‘It was not,’ the boy replied.

Fidelma was disappointed. ‘Where was it, then?’

‘On the track. A little way down the old track that runs towards the abbey and past the Ring of Pigs.’ The boy glanced round surreptitiously. ‘Do not tell my parents that I was playing by the Ring of Pigs. I am not supposed to.’

‘On the track to the abbey?’ mused Fidelma.

‘Are you sure of the place?’ demanded Eadulf.

‘It was where the track passes the old rocks.’ The boy was scornful. ‘I know it well enough. It was where I saw Accobrán shouting at Beccnat back in the summer. That was when I found the nugget.’

Fidelma stared hard at the boy.

‘The place where you saw Accobrán shouting at Beccnat?’ she repeated slowly. ‘What was he shouting about?’

The boy shrugged indifferently. ‘You know the way grown-ups are. One minute shouting, the next minute being all sloppy and kissing.’

‘They were kissing?’

‘I said so, didn’t I?’

‘And you are sure about the place?’ Fidelma pressed him. ‘And the time? Summer, you said. Was it about the feast of Lughnasa?’

‘I have said so.’

‘Did you tell Gobnuid where you found the gold?’

The boy shook his head. ‘The fool’s gold? Not exactly.’

‘What do you mean — not exactly?’

‘Well, when I thought it valuable, I did not want to let on about the place just in case Gobnuid went there and found any other pieces. I told him it was further down the hill, nearer the abbey.’

Fidelma smiled and handed the coin to the boy. ‘You have no need to tell anyone of this conversation, Síoda.’

The boy grinned and tossed the coin into the air.

‘What conversation, Sister?’ he chuckled. Then he turned and ran off into the woods.

Eadulf regarded Fidelma with a degree of bewilderment. ‘Does that help?’

‘It shows that Gobnuid was not told of the real location of the boy’s find. His knowledge of the cave came from other means. And it shows that Gabrán was right — something was going on between Beccnat and our handsome, bloodthirsty tanist. And it places them together at the spot where Beccnat was found and around the time she was killed.’

Eadulf was startled. ‘Do you mean that Accobrán killed Beccnat?’

‘We still do not have enough information. But everything helps when you are struggling to find a path in the darkness, Eadulf,’ replied Fidelma solemnly.

Eadulf sighed impatiently.

‘How do you even know whether such a path exists?’ he asked in exasperation. ‘I confess that I am less certain of things now than I was when we first came here. To begin with, we were confronted with the murders of three girls. Each killed at the full of the moon. Obviously it was the work of a lunatic, a maniac. Then we were sidetracked by the murder of Lesren by his wife. In a way, it did seem logical in that Lesren’s killing was remotely connected with the murders. But now, with this raid by the Uí Fidgente and gold mines and so on…well, I haven’t a clue what is going on.’

‘I believe that our next port of call will put some of the pieces together,’ she said.

‘Brother Dangila?’

Fidelma inclined her head.

When they reached the abbey of Finnbarr Fidelma espied a familiar figure about to leave on horseback. She halted her horse and waited for the man to approach.

‘Brother Túan, isn’t it?’

The owlish-faced religieux halted and greeted her with a smile. ‘Sister Fidelma. How go your inquiries?’

‘I am encountering difficulties,’ she confessed. Then, indicating Brother Eadulf, she introduced him.

‘I have heard of Brother Eadulf the Saxon,’ acknowledged the steward of the house of Molaga with a smile of greeting. Then he turned quickly back to Fidelma. ‘So you are finding the path difficult?’

The corners of her mouth turned down a little in a wry expression. ‘My mentor, the Brehon Morann, always said one should beware the easy path for there is more deception on the path that appears simple than on the path that appears difficult.’