Peter Tremayne - Smoke in the Wind

‘Remember Rhonwen’s reaction when you asked about Clydog? The smith also seem scared to death of the man.’

‘With cause, no doubt,’ she agreed. ‘Unfortunately, we can no longer ask Father Clidro about him. From the look on Rhonwen’s face, I suspect that Clydog is not beyond rape as well as pillage.’

‘Short of being able to ask Clydog, which I do not propose doing,’ responded Eadulf in grim amusement, ‘I think we will not be able to resolve that mystery. However, so far as the disappearance of the brethren of Llanpadern is concerned, I think we may now offer an explanation to Gwlyddien, as much as I am embarrassed by it.’

Fidelma answered with a short laugh. ‘We may offer an explanation, but is it the right one? Come, let me hear your version.’

Eadulf look slightly pained at her sceptical response. ‘My explanation is the same as I offered before.’

Fidelma was still smiling softly. ‘And that is. .?’

‘I do not make excuses for my people, but you know that many Saxon ships raid the coast for plunder and slaves. A Hwicce ship landed here, raided the community at Llanpadern. In the raid, one of them was killed. . the man we found in the tomb. The raiders then marched their captives back to their ship. Something happened when they reached the cliff overlooking the ship. Perhaps an attempt to escape. Seven were cut down. The evidence of Hwicce weapons and a shield shows who did it.’

Fidelma glanced at Eadulf without approval. ‘It is a good theory,’ she admitted.

Eadulf frowned in annoyance. ‘Theory? You do not accept it?’

She smiled softly. ‘Not in the form in which you give it. You forget that Father Clidro was not killed at the time of this attack. His blood was freshly spilt when we found him.’

‘I had forgotten.’ Eadulf looked disappointed.

‘I think you may well be right in certain matters. A Saxon ship. . I would not know whether it was from this strange kingdom you mention — the Who-ekka?’ She forced her tongue over the unfamiliar syllables. ‘But if, as Goff said, a Saxon ship did anchor off shore here, then I suspect they did play a part in whatever happened at Llanpadern.’

‘But the rest must follow,’ protested Eadulf.

‘The facts do not support what you have said. Forget that you are a Saxon.’

Momentarily Eadulf’s features broke into a humorous grin. ‘That is a difficult thing to do in this land where I am constantly reminded of it,’ he observed wryly.

‘In any raid by Saxons on a community — and we have had many such raids in Laigin and Muman so we know of them at first hand — what usually happens?’

Eadulf pursed his lips to give her question some thought.

‘What happens is that Saxons burn and destroy, carrying off plunder,’ went on Fidelma, without waiting for him to answer. ‘They take young men and girls as slaves, and kill the rest. Where is the evidence that such a raid was carried out at Llanpadern?’

‘Father Clidro was-’

‘Father Clidro was flogged, taken to the barn and hanged. He was not struck down by sword or spear. But his body does not appear there until well after the Saxon ship has left. Where has he been during the last few days?’

Eadulf had considered the anomaly. Her reasoning had not been entirely lost on him. He had been worrying about it but had no logical explanation.

‘But what of the slaughter of the seven brothers on the foreshore? What of that?’ he protested.

‘That is a singular event, Eadulf. Consider it. Most of them were killed by a sword blow from behind. A blow to the neck. They were all killed in the same spot, which does not indicate that they were attempting to escape their captors, does it? And, having killed the seven, what warriors do you know who would cast down a shield, a knife and a broken sword by the bodies and leave them?’

Eadulf compressed his lips as he remembered the questions that Fidelma had asked about the broken sword. There had been no blood on it and the broken end was not in any of the bodies.

‘Are you saying that this was deliberately done in order to make people think that Saxons were responsible?’ he asked, bewildered. ‘Are you saying that there is no Saxon connection?’

Fidelma shook her head immediately. ‘The Saxon in the tomb and the Saxon ship anchored off the coast are somehow connected with this mystery. But I am not sure how.’

He regarded her in surprise. ‘But if it was not a Saxon raid, what else would bring a Saxon ship here?’

‘That is the mystery which must be solved. All I know is that the facts are complicated and inexplicable based on the knowledge we currently have.’

Eadulf remained silent for a moment. ‘Then I doubt that we shall produce an answer.’

Fidelma turned a disapproving eye on him. ‘ Tempus omnia revelat ,’ she said reprovingly.

‘Time may well reveal all things but can we afford to wait?’ he replied sharply.

‘Wait we must,’ she replied calmly. ‘We must be patient.’

‘Have you forgotten the threat from Clydog and his men?’

‘I have not. As I have told you, I think he also provides a key which may unravel this mystery.’

The countryside in which they were riding fell away on their left to a coastline consisting of dramatic cliffs and deep rocky coves. Here and there they could see seal pups cavorting in the water, while mingling with the sea birds were a few buzzards emitting their mewing ‘kiew’ as they scanned the ground for small mammals. Buzzards preferred these open hillsides over which they were now travelling, for it was ideal territory for catching rabbits. The track was now leading by another hill, turning inland. They could see the deserted walls of an ancient hill fortress standing some two hundred metres from them. They followed the contours of the south side of the hill towards the east where Llanwnda lay across the main hill of Pen Caer. Eadulf knew that ‘pen’ meant a head while ‘caer’ was a fort.

‘I’ll be glad of a bath and fresh, dry clothes,’ observed Eadulf cheerfully as he realised they could not be far away from Llanwnda.

Their clothes had dried on them before they reached Llanferran and left them with an uncomfortable sensation, the linen and wool rough and irritating to the skin. Eadulf, after such a long time in the five kingdoms of Éireann, had grown accustomed to Irish ways. There the people bathed every day, generally in the evening, while in the morning they only washed their face and hands. Eadulf had always considered this toilet rather excessive. In his own land, bathing was often confined to a swim in a nearby river and then only infrequently. But the Irish made a ritual of cleanliness, and used a cake of a fatty substance called sléic to create a lather which washed away the dirt.

Now Eadulf missed the heated bath water, the immersion in the tub called a debach in which were placed sweet-smelling herbs, the vigorous towelling with a linen cloth. He had to admit, after his initial caution, that the ritual made him feel refreshed and invigorated.

Fidelma shared his longing for a bath and clean clothes. The previous night’s adventure, such as it was, had left her with a feeling of besmirchment that she felt it would take many baths to eradicate. But there was another anticipation with which Fidelma was returning to Llanwnda. She had not been able to rid herself of concern for young Idwal. Nor could she shake off the belief, albeit based on pure emotion rather than deduction, that the boy was innocent of the death of Mair. She was looking forward to hearing how Brother Meurig’s inquiry had developed. Perhaps the information she had gathered about Mair’s father, Iorwerth, might be useful.

The track was now leading them down into a thickly wooded valley beyond which the settlement of Llanwnda was situated. Fidelma realised that this was probably the very wood in which the girl had been strangled. She wished that she knew for certain. She would have liked to have examined the spot, even though she knew that no clues would remain there after so long an interval. Fidelma, however, liked to see the places where victims met their deaths, insofar as she was able. It helped her envisage the scene more clearly in her own mind.