Peter Tremayne - Badger's Moon

‘While we were passing near the borders of your land, a small foraging party from our sluaghadh went missing. We sent out scouts and they found the bodies of our men — all had been slaughtered. The arrows we found bore the marks of the Cinél na Áeda. Some of the party had been cut down by sword blows: many had wounds in their backs that spoke plainly of how they came by their deaths. Thus, chieftain of the Cinél na Áeda, was it decided that our sluaghadh would turn from its path to the Corco Loígde and enter your territory to demand an explanation. We will see whether that explanation allows us to continue in peace or whether it forces us to invoke the law which demands dígal — blood vengeance.’

Fidelma frowned. She tried to hide the fact that she was appalled that Accobrán had not even buried the slain Uí Fidgente but had abandoned the bodies to the elements and ravering beasts. She drew herself together.

‘The futility of vengeance has been censured by the New Faith,’ she pointed out in a sharp voice.

The techfaire glanced at her as if to dismiss her. ‘Those of your cloth would say so. However, it is written in the Crith Gablach that the blood feud has legal standing and that a party of avengers may pursue such a feud in the territory of those who have wronged them.’

Fidelma smiled grimly at being lectured on the law.

‘However, that law says that the dígal can only be carried out a month after the collapse of any attempt to negotiate compensation if culpability is proved,’ she replied quickly.

The herald’s features twisted in a sneer. He was about to speak when Becc said gruffly: ‘Have a care, techtaire . It is a dálaigh of the courts who addresses you.’

The man blinked and hesitated for a moment. ‘I am not here to debate points of law but to tell you the intentions of my lord, Conrí. He awaits you, Becc, or your representatives, at the Marsh of the Birch. Tell me, chieftain of the Cinél na Áeda, will he wait in vain?’

Becc shook his head immediately. ‘You can tell your war chieftain that while it is improper for the chieftain of any tuath or tribe to come to him at his demand, nevertheless I shall send representatives to demand his withdrawal from our lands without the spilling of blood on either side.’

‘Brave words. My part is now over. Your part has begun.’

The horseman wheeled swiftly about and rode off through the gates of the fortress.

‘Let me send him back to his war chieftain with an arrow in him,’ muttered Accobrán, his hand clenching on his sword.

Fidelma turned to him with a sour expression.

‘Had you been a little less concerned with slaughter, Accobrán, then this confrontation need never have happened,’ she snapped.

‘And Suanach and even you might not be alive.’ retorted the tanist.

Becc raised a pacifying hand.

‘Let us confront the common enemy,’ he said reprovingly. ‘Fidelma, this Conrí is only a war lord and, as I am chieftain here, I cannot be seen going to him now that he has invaded our territory.’

‘I should go as tanist!’ said Accobrán quickly.

‘Your going with your current attitude would guarantee more bloodshed,’ said Fidelma waspishly. ‘No, I shall go as negotiator.’

Becc looked horrified. ‘But you are the king’s sister. If it is not right for me to go and negotiate with a warlord, then how much less fitting is it for you…’

Fidelma shook her head. ‘I am here as a dálaigh . Indeed, my relationship to the king might prove useful for the Uí Fidgente might then know that they may once again have to deal with Cashel. A memory of their defeat at Cnoc Áine might cause them to reflect on any precipitous action.’

‘It is like presenting the Uí Fidgente with a hostage,’ protested Accobrán in irritation.

‘Better than presenting them with a dozen corpses still warm from the slaughter! The warrior’s code respects the bodies of slain enemies.’

Accobrán flushed at her retort. Becc was worried and held up a hand to still any response from his tanist.

‘I believe that you are right, Fidelma,’ he said. ‘But you cannot go alone.’

‘I’ll go with her,’ interposed Eadulf quickly.

‘But there should be a representative of the Cinél na Áeda present,’ protested Accobrán. ‘If she is to speak for us, how do we know what she will say?’

‘Are you saying that I am not to be trusted?’ Fidelma asked quietly. There was an ominous tone in her softly spoken words.

Becc moved forward hurriedly and laid a pacifying hand on her arm.

‘Accobrán has fallen into the habit of speaking with impulsiveness. He did not mean that. Yet he does raise a pertinent point. Let Adag my steward accompany you and Brother Eadulf. Then everyone will be satisfied.’

Fidelma smiled in agreement. ‘I have no objection if Adag is willing.’

The steward was not looking happy but he stepped forward quickly enough. His chubby features were firmly set.

‘It is the will of my chieftain. I shall go with you, lady,’ he affirmed.

‘How will you proceed?’ asked Becc, turning back into his hall. They followed him in while someone was sent off to the stables to order the horses to be saddled for them.

‘I think that we will have to see what this Conrí’s intentions are,’ Fidelma said. ‘We know that this foraging party came to the bothán of Menma and Suanach. They kidnapped Suanach, and burnt the cabin. That is hardly in keeping with the behaviour of what the herald described as a peaceful foraging party. For our part, we have to admit that these Uí Fidgente were all slaughtered instead of being made captive.’

Accobrán muttered angrily: ‘Them or me. The choice was obvious.’

‘Are you saying that the messenger was lying when he said that some of the bodies showed that they had been shot or stabbed in the back?’

‘Back or front. An enemy is an enemy and we did right to slaughter the vermin.’

Fidelma compressed her lips for a moment.

‘It might be that compensation will have to be offered for this slaughter, Becc,’ she pointed out.

‘Never!’ snapped Accobrán, his voice rising in his anger.

‘It is surely true, Fidelma,’ Becc said, waving his tanist to be silent, ‘that it is lawful to kill a thief caught in the act of stealing who does not surrender and threatens violence.’

‘That is so, just as it is permitted that a death resulting from defending oneself against an attack is not subject to punishment. Everyone is entitled to self-defence. The problem is whether a case may be made out that a person who has been shot or stabbed in the back was a threat to the life of the person who killed him in this fashion.’ She stared briefly at Accobrán who scowled back at her but made no reply.

‘I think,’ ventured Eadulf hurriedly, seeing the anger in the tanist’s eyes, ‘we had better leave any decisions on culpability until we see what the Uí Fidgente have to say.’

‘Agreed,’ sighed Becc in relief. ‘In the meantime, I do not think it will harm us if we prepare the defences of this fortress.’

‘That would be an obvious course,’ agreed Fidelma solemnly. ‘Also you might enquire how this war band came so near to Rath Raithlen without an alarm being raised. I thought you had ordered a watch yesterday?’

Becc glanced at his tanist. The young man flushed again.

‘I called it off once we had returned here triumphant after pursuing and defeating the raiders.’

Becc did not say anything but his features were like granite as he turned to give instructions, ordering that defences be prepared as they rode out of the gates and down the hill. It was Adag who led them to the area called the Marsh of the Birch, which was scarcely an hour’s ride away. There was no mistaking the area because they were soon in sight of an encampment marked by posts from which red silk banners bearing the wolf symbol fluttered. The wolf symbol was always associated with the Uí Fidgente. Watchful sentinels challenged their party and then allowed them to pass into an area sheltered by trees beside a small stream.