Peter Tremayne - Smoke in the Wind

‘Does it?’ Fidelma’s anger was clear in her voice. Eadulf shifted his weight uncomfortably.

‘It is, indeed, a sad story,’ Gwnda went on, oblivious of the glitter in her eyes. ‘I am only sorry that the matter resulted in the death of such a learned barnwr as Brother Meurig.’

‘That is certainly to be regretted.’ Fidelma’s voice was dangerously brittle.

Gwnda clapped his hands and Buddog entered a moment later. He demanded mead be brought.

‘I have had the boy’s body taken to Elisse the apothecary. He will see to it that the boy is buried properly. At least, here is an end to the matter,’ he said, seating himself. ‘My daughter knew Idwal,’ he added, as if by way of explanation. ‘I didn’t want her to hear what happened just yet.’

‘She will soon find out,’ Eadulf pointed out.

‘Indeed, but I will find a gentler way of telling her. I needed to tell you both immediately.’

‘It is outrageous that people have taken the law into their own hands,’ Fidelma said, her anger a little more under control now. Eadulf had thought she was going to explode in fury but she seemed to be fighting the emotion. ‘Do you still intend to prohibit me from making inquiries about the death of Mair and Brother Meurig?’

Gwnda seemed astonished. ‘Inquiries? But we have resolved this matter. Not in accordance with law, but it is resolved.’

‘I have not resolved it.’

Gwnda frowned in irritation. ‘I have already told you that you have no jurisdiction in this. The matter, so far as I am concerned, is now ended. I will send to the abbey of Dewi Sant to inform the court.’

Fidelma stood with head bowed in thought. ‘Very well; yet you have no objection to my pursuing inquiries about Llanpadern.’

Gwnda was suspicious. ‘You know I do not. You have the permission of the king.’

‘Then I shall continue to pursue those inquiries.’ She turned and motioned to Eadulf to accompany her, leaving Gwnda gazing in annoyed perplexity.

Outside Eadulf examined her with a baffled expression. ‘What was that supposed to mean?’ he asked.

Fidelma smiled wanly. ‘I intend to question Iorwerth and Iestyn.’

‘But Gwnda said-’

‘Gwnda said that he had no objection to my pursuing inquiries concerning Llanpadern. You will recall that Idwal passed through Llanpadern on the morning Mair was murdered. What concerns Llanpadern might concern Idwal.’

She turned into the kitchen and sought Buddog. ‘Where can I find the lady Elen?’ she asked.

The blonde woman shook her head. ‘She left the house when her father arrived. I do not know where she has gone.’

Fidelma compressed her lips in annoyance but thanked the woman.

‘A pity,’ she said to Eadulf after they had left the kitchen and stood outside in the yard. ‘I want to hear what she meant by saying Mair was killed in mistake for her. Until we can find her, let us go down to Iorwerth’s forge and have a word with this outraged smith.’

Eadulf moved reluctantly after her. ‘I doubt if Gwnda is going to interpret matters in the same light.’

‘Probably not,’ agreed Fidelma briefly. ‘That is why I still want you to ride to the abbey of Dewi Sant tomorrow and secure Gwlyddien’s authority for me. Gwnda’s prohibition must be cancelled. In the meantime, let us see what Iorwerth says about Idwal’s death before you leave.’

Eadulf was glum. ‘I do not like to leave you here on your own.’

‘But the permission of Gwlyddien is now necessary and urgent.’

There were several people about in the township as they walked from Gwnda’s hall down to the forge. It was late afternoon and there was a hint of dusk approaching. Many of the people they met now avoided eye contact and hung their heads, scuttling away into their houses.

‘The madness of the lynch mob has been dispelled,’ Eadulf commented cynically. ‘Now they feel their individual guilt at taking a human life.’

‘And that guilt will only last a day or two before they begin to find justification for their actions,’ agreed Fidelma.

As they came upon Iorwerth’s forge they saw a horse tethered outside. A figure that seemed familiar was dismounting and untying a heavy saddle bag. The young man turned at their approach. Fidelma recognised the son of Goff the smith whom they had encountered earlier that morning.

‘Dewi!’

The young man greeted them with a smile. ‘I thought that I might see you here,’ he said.

‘But what are you doing at Iorwerth’s forge?’ asked Eadulf, his eye falling to the heavy saddle bags.

‘My father promised Iorwerth some gold to work with in his forge. I have come to deliver it.’

‘Do you have any objection to that, Gwyddel?’ snapped a voice angrily.

Iorwerth, the thickset smith, was standing at the door of his cabin with his muscular arms flexing, a pair of tongs clenched almost menacingly in one hand.

Fidelma smiled softly. ‘Why should I have any objection?’

Iorwerth looked disconcerted. ‘What are you hanging about my forge for, anyway?’ he demanded ungraciously.

‘We have come to have a talk with you. But we have no objection to you concluding your business with Dewi first.’

Iorwerth looked doubtfully from Fidelma to Dewi and back again. ‘How do you know this Gwyddel, Dewi?’ he demanded gruffly.

‘We met Dewi at his father’s forge this morning,’ Fidelma intervened innocently. ‘Does that worry you? Or is there any other information you would like?’

Iorwerth glowered at her, not sure how he should answer.

‘Can you read, Iorwerth?’ was her next unexpected question.

Iorwerth’s expression was not pretty. ‘I have no call for reading,’ he replied gruffly.

‘A pity. Dyfed is known as a literate kingdom. However, perhaps Dewi here can read. .?’

The young man flushed a little in embarrassment. ‘Father Clidro taught me,’ he affirmed.

Solemnly Fidelma took out a piece of vellum from her marsupium and handed it to him. ‘Perhaps you could tell Iorwerth what this says. I fear that if I tell him he will not trust me to tell the truth.’

Iorwerth’s eyes narrowed in continued annoyance.

The young man took the vellum and read quickly through it. ‘You showed this to my father. It is a commission from King Gwlyddien.’

‘Saying what?’ prompted Fidelma.

‘Saying that you act on his authority and advising everyone to co-operate with you. .’

Fidelma reached forward and took the vellum from Dewi’s fingers. ‘Do you understand that, Iorwerth?’ she asked.

Eadulf found himself hiding a smile at her sleight of hand. He knew that she had not allowed the young man to read out that the co-operation related to the specific inquiry about Llanpadern.

The smith’s jaw came up stubbornly.

Dewi was apologetic. ‘It is what the words say, Iorwerth, and I have seen the king’s seal often before at the abbey of Dewi Sant when I have delivered father’s work there.’

The smith remained hesitant but then admitted defeat. ‘If that is what the words say,’ he conceded reluctantly, ‘I will answer your questions.’

‘When you have finished your business with Dewi,’ Fidelma told him, ‘we will go inside your cabin and talk.’

The young man unslung his saddle bag and handed it to Iorwerth. ‘There is little business to conduct, Sister,’ he announced. ‘I merely came to deliver the pieces of gold that my father promised Iorwerth for his forge.’

Iorwerth took the bag and emptied out the pieces of metal, looking more like jagged rocks than precious gold.

‘Excellent,’ Iorwerth said as he examined them. ‘It is as agreed. Give my salutations to your father, Dewi.’

The youth returned the courtesy and turned towards his horse while Iorwerth said to Fidelma: ‘You may enter and tell me what you want of me.’