Peter Tremayne - Valley of the Shadow

‘Oh?’

‘The fact that, as Fidelma had rightly suggested, she was searched and not found in possession of the murder weapon. Nor when the stable was searched was such a weapon found. The conclusion is that the murderer took that weapon with him or her. It may be that it would have identified him or her. Laisre will confirm that his warriors searched diligently. There was no place that the weapon could have been hidden between the time when Artgal entered and when he claimed he saw Fidelma rising from the body. In otherwords, the facts exactly fit Sister Fidelma’s account … but with one exception — she thought she saw Orla. I ask you to believe that she saw someone.’

Murgal turned and leaned close to Laisre and held a whispered conversation. His voice was urgent. Laisre seemed to protest but Murgal was insistent and reluctantly the chieftain finally gestured his indifference. Murgal sat back.

‘You have argued well, Saxon. So well, in fact, that in arguing that Fidelma of Cashel be released until her trial you have dispensed with all the evidence against her. It seems to me that if we find the man who bribed Artgal we might also find the weapon which slew Solin. It has not escaped our notice that Artgal said the man spoke with the accent of Ulaidh or that the horse dealer, Ibor of Muirthemne, has now left this assembly. The fact that Solin was also a man of Ulaidh might suggest that this tragedy was the result of some private quarrel. There is no reason to hold Fidelma in custody any more.’

A burst of noisy voices thundered around the chamber.

Eadulf turned with a smile which was a mixture of relief and triumph to Fidelma. Fidelma was rising for the first time, her face still serious.

‘Murgal,’ her voice was strong and steady, ‘I thank you, as I also thank Laisre, for the justice you have dispensed this day. But there is still the killer of Brother Solin to be caught. I would like your permission to investigate this killing. If Ibor of Muirthemne is responsible, let me bring him to justice. It is my contention that there is a link with Brother Solin’s death and the curious ritual of the thirty-three dead young men.’

Laisre interrupted before Murgal could reply.

‘I would prefer that we finish the negotiations which you are here to conduct and that you then depart in haste back to Cashel. You may be assured that we will do our best to find this man, Ibor of Muirthemne, who has bribed one of my best warriors and destroyed his honour.’

‘Is that your command?’ insisted Fidelma, to Eadulf’s surprise, for, had it been his decision to make, he would have left Gleann Geis with the utmost rapidity.

‘Call it my preference, Fidelma of Cashel. The most important business we have between us is to finish our negotiations. There will be no joy between us in any further relationship. The sooner that you are gone from our valley, the better, for I cannot forget the insult to my family — even if I accept the Saxon’s explanation that you were mistaken in your identification. Let us rest this nightand commence our deliberations in the morning. Now … I think we have finished our business for the day.’

Laisre rose abruptly and left the chamber. There was no happiness on his face. Orla and Colla followed him swiftly. It fell to Murgal to dismiss the court. Across the chamber, Eadulf saw Brother Dianach hurrying away. His face was flushed with anxiety. Of Artgal, there was no sign at all. Eadulf was about to move to Fidelma when he noticed the young girl, Esnad, smiling at him. Orla’s daughter had a warm, alluring smile on her features and when he met her eyes, she did not drop them in maidenly fashion but met his gaze in an open, provocative manner. Embarrassed, it was Eadulf who dropped his gaze first.

The fourteen-year-old daughter of Orla and Colla was being deliberately flirtatious.

Once Fidelma and Eadulf were alone in the hostel, Fidelma whirled round to the Saxon monk with a warm smile and seized his hands with both of her own.

‘You were brilliant!’ she pronounced enthusiastically.

Eadulf blushed furiously.

‘I had a good teacher,’ he mumbled with some embarrassment.

‘But you found the right laws to argue. And the way you led Artgal into that trap! I have never seen an advocate manipulate a witness better. It was brilliant to use the law to develop your argument. You should claim a degree as a dálaigh.’

‘I had some help from Rudgal,’ admitted Eadulf. ‘Without his information, I could not have shown Artgal to be an unworthy witness.’

Fidelma became serious.

‘Are you saying that it was Rudgal who gave you the information about the payment Artgal was to receive?’

‘It was. Luck was with us because he mentioned Artgal had received the cows and I was able to piece the rest together.’

Fidelma moved in search of a pitcher of mead and beakers for she needed strength after her ordeal.

‘Then we should thank Rudgal. But you used his information well. It was the way that you forced Artgal to confess the bribe without having to present the evidence yourself. That I admire.’

Eadulf laughed skeptically.

‘If it had come down to having to give proof of my allegation then I fear we would have been worsted. Thank God that Artgal thought I knew more than I did.’

Fidelma paused in the act of drinking.

‘You did have the evidence of the bribe, didn’t you?’ she asked hesitantly. ‘I mean, evidence to support your allegation?’

Eadulf forced a smile and admitted the truth.

‘It was a bluff.’

Fidelma stared at him in consternation. Slowly she sank to a chair.

‘Only a bluff? You’d better explain.’

‘Easy enough. Rudgal had heard Artgal boasting of his new possession of two milch cows. Artgal was boastful but he was not that loose tongued. He did mention, however, that he would have a third milch cow in nine days’ time. I saw the connection at once. Rudgal had mentioned this to me not realising its significance.’

Fidelma felt suddenly weak as she considered what might have happened.

‘And that was all you knew when you challenged him before the court?’ she pressed faintly.

Eadulf spread his hands expressively.

‘It seemed a reasonable assumption that Artgal’s new-found wealth was something to do with his testimony against you. I simply took a gamble.’

Fidelma was staring at him in dismay.

‘But no Brehon would have dared to make such a gamble, to claim something before the court without certain knowledge or proof. Have you not heard the saying sapiens nihil affirmat quod non probat? A wise man states as true nothing he cannot prove. What if Artgal had not confessed? What if you had been challenged to prove your accusation?’

Eadulf grimaced ruefully.

‘Then, as I say, it would have gone badly with us. Artgal could have simply called me a liar and walked away. But his guilty conscience made him confess and I was counting on that.’

Fidelma was shaking her head dumbfounded.

‘I have not known the like of this in my years as an advocate,’ she finally said.

‘Then let me give you Latin aphorism for Latin aphorism. Si finis bonus est, totum bonum erit,’ smiled Eadulf complacently.

Fidelma was forced to duplicate his smile as she repeated: ‘If the end is good, everything will be good. I cannot argue that all’s well that ends well but do not repeat this story to anyone else, especially not to Murgal or Laisre. Confession extracted by deception is not a principle of the laws of the five kingdoms.’

Eadulf held up his hand, palm outwards.

‘I swear! The secret will remain between us. But that doesn’t make it the less true. Artgal was, indeed, bribed.’