Peter Tremayne - Valley of the Shadow

‘What is it?’ whispered the Saxon perplexed by her action.

Fidelma shook her head and placed a finger against her lips.

Across the courtyard the door of the building where Murgal’s apartment and library were housed was opening and there was no disguising the thick-set figure of Brother Solin as he came out and slammed it shut. He had one hand against the side of his face as if nursing it. He paused for a moment in the light of an oil lamp which hung outside the door, illuminating his angry features. He looked up and down, as if to ensure he had not been observed. The way he carried himself demonstrated his tense attitude and anger. Then he seemed to smooth his clothing and run a hand through his dishevelled hair. He straightened his shoulders and began to walk across the flag stones with a purposeful tread towards the feasting hall.

Fidelma and Eadulf pressed back into the shadows so that Brother Solin did not observe them. They waited in silence until he had vanished through the doors into the chieftain’s building.

Eadulf pulled a face in the darkness.

‘It was only that pompous idiot,’ he remarked. ‘No need to hide from him.’

Fidelma sighed softly.

‘Sometimes you may learn things if people are unaware of your presence.’

‘Learn what?’

‘For instance, Brother Solin passed under the light of that lamp there. What did you observe?’

‘That he was angry.’

‘True. What else?’

Eadulf thought a moment and gave up.

‘Little else, I think.’

‘Ah, Eadulf! Did you not observe that someone seems to have struck Brother Solin hard across the cheek? Did you see the dark mark of blood on the corner of his cheek?’

Eadulf made an impatient negative gesture.

‘And if that is so, what does it tell us?’ he demanded.

‘Earlier, I saw Brother Solin with a nose bleed. I think someone had struck him on the nose. It tells us that someone does not like Brother Solin of Armagh.’

Eadulf burst into sardonic laughter.

‘I could have told you that. I do not like him for one.’

Fidelma regarded Eadulf in amusement.

‘True. But you have not gone so far as to assault our pious cleric. Twice blood has been drawn. Wine has been thrown over him. Let us see if we can find the person who is responsible.’

She led the way across the courtyard to the door that Brother Solin had exited from. She was about to open the door when it swung open and the dark-haired figure of Orla came out. She stopped in surprise as if not expecting to find anyone outside.

‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded ungraciously.

‘We seem to have missed our way,’ Fidelma returned evenly. ‘Where does this door lead?’

The sister of Laisre glowered.

‘Not to the hostel, that is for certain,’ she replied. ‘There is no need for you to have missed the way to it. You can see it from here.’

Fidelma turned and then feigned surprise.

‘So you can.’ She went on unabashed. ‘Tell me, have you seen Brother Solin recently? I wanted to speak with him.’

Orla tossed her head in annoyance.

‘I have not seen him. Nor do I wish to. I told you this afternoon that I do not want that pig near me. Now, if you will stand aside …?’

‘Are these your chambers, then?’ Eadulf stopped her, lamely feeling that he ought to make a contribution.

Orla simply ignored his question.

‘I have other matters to attend to, if you do not,’ she said as she pushed by them and headed towards the feasting hall.

Fidelma and Eadulf waited until she had gone.

‘She must have seen Brother Solin,’ Eadulf ventured.

‘Perhaps.’

‘But they both came through this same door.’

‘True, but it leads into a large building with several apartments, including Murgal’s. Also, as you can see, there is the apothecary’s shop in the building.’

They went through the open door and stood in the dimly lit hallway. An oil lamp hung in the centre giving a dancing shadowy light. There were several doors along one side of it leading, presumably, into the apartments. Fidelma looked across to the stairs which Laisre had conducted her up earlier that day.

She was about to suggest that they withdraw, for there was little to be seen, when the tread of someone descending the stairs caused her to pause. Laisre appeared abruptly around the corner and started in surprise at the sight of them.

‘Are you looking for me?’ he greeted, having swiftly gathered his composure. ‘Or did you come seeking more books?’

Fidelma made a hurried decision.

‘I thought that I would show Brother Eadulf where the library is located in case we stood in need of consulting any of its volumes tomorrow.’

‘Ah.’ Laisre shrugged. ‘Time enough for work tomorrow. You should be at the feasting. Yes, I know,’ he went on hurriedly, ‘you have explained all about your religious geis.’

‘The feast is where I thought you would have been,’ countered Fidelma. ‘I hear from the music that it is still continuing.’

Laisre shrugged.

‘I had to leave it for a moment. I needed to instruct Murgal on a matter for tomorrow. He left too early for me to mention it. But now I shall go back. Are you sure that you won’t join me?’

Fidelma shook her head.

‘The geis lasts from dusk until dawn,’ she replied, wishing Eadulf would not look so bewildered. ‘We should have retired some time ago but merely called in to look at the library on our way back to the hostel.’

‘Then I shall bid you a good night.’

Laisre left the building with a friendly nod at the two of them.

Fidelma and Eadulf stood at the bottom of the stairs. Laisre had not closed the door and so they could see his shadowy figure crossing the stone-flagged courtyard. Almost immediately that he left the building, a large, portly figure hurried out of the shadows and intercepted him. Fidelma and Eadulf could not mistake the rotund figure of Cruinn, the hostel keeper. She seemed animated and even grabbed the chieftain by the arm. He appeared uncomfortable, glancing round towards the door behind him, but Fidelma and Eadulf were well back in the shadows. Laisre drewthe portly hostel-keeper swiftly to one side. They could faintly hear his voice raised slightly as if trying to calm her.

Fidelma placed a finger to her lips and motioned Eadulf to follow her. Her idea was to draw closer to where Laisre and Cruinn were engaged in conversation. However, the sound of another woman’s voice within the building raised in vehemence reached their ears. A door opened and shut with an abrupt bang. The sound came from somewhere along the corridor. Fidelma quickly propelled Eadulf out into the night, closing the door behind them.

Laisre and Cruinn had disappeared by now and they were scarcely across the courtyard when the door behind them opened and the figure of Rudgal was hurrying behind them in the darkness. He hesitated and then halted as he saw them.

‘Did Murgal pass you a moment ago?’ was his breathless greeting.

‘No, we have not seen Murgal at all this evening,’ Fidelma replied.

Rudgal raised a hand in brief acknowledgment and hurried away.

‘Surely this is a place of great restlessness?’ muttered Eadulf, stifling a sudden yawn.

Fidelma agreed without amusement. It was time to turn in anyway. Perhaps Brother Solin’s nocturnal adventure was not of importance to her after all.

They made their way back to the hostel. The sounds of revelry were still echoing from the feasting hall. Eadulf had no regrets as he made his way directly to his bed chamber, bidding Fidelma good night. Fidelma sat for a while in the main room of the hostel. She sipped at a beaker of mead as she turned matters over in her mind. In the end she had to accept that Eadulf s proposition was right. It was no good turning the same information over and over without adding any new material to point her on to a new pathway. Eventually she made her way to bed, undressed and fell asleep.