Peter Tremayne - Valley of the Shadow

‘You sound as if you do not believe it?’

Fidelma nodded.

‘He does not know his law of dealing in horses from overseas.’

‘Should he do so?’

‘Any competent trader would know the basic laws.’

‘So he is not a trader in horses. So who is he and why is he here?’

‘I wish I knew. He does have the bearing of a man used to arms. And remember that we found a warrior’s torc near the bodies of the young men and that torc was of northern workmanship? I feel …’

The door opened boisterously and the corpulent figure of Cruinn entered.

‘I hear there is another feasting tonight,’ she greeted them. ‘However, I thought I would see if you required anything from me beforehand.’

‘Brother Eadulf and I will not be going to the feasting,’ Fidelma informed her.

The eyes of Cruinn showed surprise in her fleshy face.

‘Not going?’ she repeated as if it were an unheard-of thing. ‘But it is Laisre who is hosting the feast.’

‘We will not tax your services too much,’ Fidelma informed her, ignoring her disapproval. ‘If you could prepare a dish of cold meats and some bread that will be food enough.’

Cruinn glanced at Eadulf’s haggard features.

‘I could also prepare a hot broth. A broth of leeks and oats with herbs added.’

Eadulf’s tongue flickered over his lips with anticipation.

‘It sounds the very thing that is needed to settle a rebellious stomach,’ he observed.

The pudgy woman bustled off to prepare the food while Fidelma and Eadulf remained seated at the table.

‘I presume the others — Solin and the young man — are going to the feast?’ Cruinn called over her shoulder as she set about her task.

‘Young Brother Dianach is in the bath house. But he has said that he is going,’ Fidelma volunteered. ‘We have not seen Brother Solin this evening. I am sure he will be going as well.’

Fidelma rose and went to Cruinn’s side, watching the large woman’s dexterous hands preparing the meal.

‘Have you always lived in Gleann Geis, Cruinn?’ she asked abruptly. Then: ‘I have heard that there are many newcomers to the valley.’

‘I have always lived here,’ the woman confirmed. ‘Those you speak of are the Christian wives and some husbands from the surrounding areas who have married among the original settlers in this valley.’

‘Do you approve of Christians?’

The fleshy woman chuckled.

‘You might just as well ask whether I approve of the mountains. They are there. What else to do but live with them?’

‘You are wise,’ Fidelma smiled. ‘Are all the people of the valley as philosophical as you?’

The big woman did not understand the word.

Fidelma sought for another means of explaining her question.

‘Do all the others in the valley feel as you do? Or do they feel an insecurity about the Christians?’

‘We are very secure in this valley for there are only two ways in and two ways out,’ Cruinn said, misinterpreting her.

Fidelma was about to explain that she had not meant physical fear when she realised what Cruinn had said.

‘Two ways? I thought that there was only one path through the ravine?’

‘Oh, no. There is the river path.’

‘But I was told that the river is unnavigable through the rapids.’

‘That is so but there is a small footpath that runs beside the river. Difficult and hidden in places because it goes through caves. A sure-footed person can manage it. It emerges into the valley beyond. As children most of us explored it. But no one could …’

The woman paused and then her eyes narrowed. It suddenly occurred to her that perhaps she was speaking too freely. Her embarrassment was covered when Brother Dianach emerged and confirmed that he would be going to the feasting. When questioned about Brother Solin’s intentions he replied that he had not seen the cleric for a while but would presume that he was going too.

Fidelma announced that she would take a short walk before having her evening bath. Promising to be back soon, she left the hostel leaving Cruinn preparing the evening meal.

It was with some reluctance that Eadulf decided to also use the facilities of the second chamber to have an evening bathe. He decided that a cold bath might relieve him of the sweaty alcohol-induced discomfiture from his body. He felt a shame that he had succumbed to the excess of drink. Even though everyone had told him the wine had been bad, he felt it no excuse. He felt more humiliation since Fidelma had not been as reproving as she might have been.

Fidelma had actually left the ráth. She knew exactly where she was going. It took fifteen minutes or so to walk down to Ronan’s hamlet, having first ascertained from the sentinel at the gate that both Ibor of Muirthemne and Murgal had returned to the ráth for the evening’s festivities. She spotted her goal when she saw two horses grazing in the field next to Ronan’s farmstead.

She made directly into the field by climbing over the low stone wall which surrounded it.

Fidelma was not without knowledge when it came to equestrian matters. She had been raised on a horse almost before she could walk. If the truth were known, her name was still spoken of in awe at the famous Cuirrech where a great annual race gathering had beenheld since time immemorial. A few years had passed since she had solved the mystery of the slaughter of the king of Laighin’s prize race-horse and his jockey. She knew much about horses.

There were two horses in the field. A black stallion and a white mare. The mare was skittish but the stallion stood docilely enough as Fidelma ran her hands over his shoulders and fetlocks. She stroked him gently on the muzzle until he allowed her to open his mouth and examine his teeth. The mare was more difficult to examine but after a while she managed to calm her sufficiently to inspect her also.

‘What are you doing?’ cried a harsh voice.

Bairsech, the wife of Ronan, stood regarding her with a sour expression from the doorway of the farm building.

‘Just examining these horses, Bairsech,’ replied Fidelma unruffled. ‘Are they the horses that belong to Ibor of Muirthemne?’

The woman recognised Fidelma but scowled even more.

‘Yes; they are his.’ It was said ungraciously.

Fidelma pursed her lips reflectively as she gazed at the animals.

‘Has he no other horses with him?’

‘Why do you ask? Do you want to buy them for he is not here but up at the ráth.’

‘Indulge me,’ replied Fidelma patiently. ‘Did he bring any other animals with him?’

‘No, just those two beasts.’ Bairsech was wary. ‘What does that have to do with you?’

‘Nothing,’ Fidelma replied. ‘Nothing at all. I shall doubtless see him at the ráth later.’

She left the field and began to climb back towards Laisre’s fortress.

By the time she reached it, Eadulf had finished his bath. Cruinn was placing the food on the table and there was no sign of Brother Dianach. Eadulf told her that Dianach had gone to the feast but Brother Solin had not returned to the guests’ hostel. Fidelma debated with herself for a moment as to whether she should have her evening bath and decided not to allow the soup to chill but to eat first and bathe later.

Cruinn, asking if they needed anything else and ascertaining that they did not, bade them have a good evening and left them to the meal.

Fidelma gave herself to the meal in silence while Eadulf ate moderately and stuck to water as Fidelma sipped at a beaker of mead.

‘What are you puzzling over, Fidelma?’ Eadulf finally broke the quiet that had fallen between them. ‘I know when your mind is active for you have that far-away look in your eyes.’

She brought her gaze from the middle distance to focus on Eadulf.