Peter Tremayne - Valley of the Shadow

‘Your brother will be suspicious of a warrior from Ulaidh arriving with this wild tale,’ protested Ibor.

‘Have no fear. Can one of your men cut me some wands of hazel?’

Ibor frowned in bewilderment but relayed the order to one of his warriors. The man hurried off.

‘What do you mean to do?’ he asked. ‘There might be great danger in Gleann Geis now. If Orla and Colla suspect that you know anything about their plot, about what is really going on, then they will not hesitate to kill you. A person who can willingly accept the murder of thirty-three young hostages merely in order to create disunity and strife will not think twice about further deaths to hide their criminality.’

‘This I know,’ Fidelma accepted. ‘How many men did you say you have with you?’

‘Twenty warriors of the Craobh Rígh, the royal branch of Ulaidh,’ Ibor replied proudly. The Craobh Rígh were the elite bodyguard of the kings of Ulaidh. Then he hesitated. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I think that I am beginning to see a pattern in this muddy picture,’ she mused. ‘Let me think things through for a moment or so.’

After some moments the warrior returned with a bunch of half-a-dozen pliant hazel rods. Fidelma took them and asked Ibor for his sharp knife. They watched in bemusement as Fidelma deftly began to cut a series of notches along the rods. Then she boundthem together with a thong of leather taken from her marsupium and handed them to Ibor.

‘All your man has to do is to hand these to my brother at Cashel. They are to be placed into his hand and no other. Is that understood?’

Ibor turned to the warrior who had brought the rods to him.

‘Do you understand what you must do, Mer?’

The warrior nodded and took the bundle of rods.

‘It shall be done as you say, Sister,’ the man said.

Fidelma looked up at him.

‘I have recorded a message to my brother in Ogham, the old script of our tongue. He will understand.’

‘It is vital that this message get through,’ added Ibor quietly. ‘The safety of the five kingdoms is at stake.’

The warrior named Mer raised his hand in a formal salute and hurried away.

‘It will be a few days before my brother receives that message,’ reflected Fidelma.

‘Have you asked him to march here with an army?’ asked Eadulf eagerly.

‘And do the very thing that Mael Dúin and his allies want him to do?’ Fidelma mocked. ‘No. I have merely informed him of the situation and told him to beware of Ailech and Ultan of Armagh.’

‘Then what do you propose to do?’ Eadulf asked, perplexed.

‘As I have said, I shall go back to Gleann Geis and investigate further. But I believe that I will not have far to search now. Ibor is right. We might yet find friends in Gleann Geis who will be as horrified as we are about this plot to destroy Muman. Once I know for sure who is responsible then I can place the facts before them and seek their aid.’

‘But is it wise to go back?’ protested Ibor. ‘You will be in constant danger.’

Fidelma smiled briefly.

‘Wisdom is being wise at the time wisdom is needed. I need to provoke some answers. I think I will need but another day to solve this mystery.’

Eadulf regarded her in astonishment but Fidelma spoke with quiet confidence.

‘It will be early evening when I get back to Gleann Geis. So I should be ready to act by tomorrow morning. At dawn tomorrow I want you, Ibor, and your men to be in control of Laisre’s fortress. Take command of all the key points by dawn.’

Ibor was so amazed at her request that he was unable to speak.But his face did not hold the total astonishment which Eadulf’s expression held.

‘It will be no hardship,’ Fidelma assured him earnestly. ‘I have barely seen more than half a dozen of Laisre’s warriors guarding it at any one time and the gates are left wide open all night.’

Ibor still looked doubtful.

‘It is not so easy. Even in darkness it would be difficult to reach Laisre’s ráth without being spotted. The reason why the gates are never closed is obvious. There is only one narrow ravine entering the valley through which only two might ride abreast and that is always guarded, so no need to close the gates of the fortress. The alarm would be given at the ravine if armed strangers entered.’

Eadulf was in total agreement.

‘Even when we rode out at dawn, we were challenged, Fidelma,’ he reminded her. ‘Ibor is right. His men will not be able to enter the valley at all.’

‘But there is another route.’ Fidelma ignored their objections. ‘There is the river.’

Ibor laughed dismissively.

‘A river of rapids and waterfalls which is not even navigable by boat? Only a spawning salmon could hope to get up it into the valley. I have heard about that so-called route from Murgal when he was boasting of the impregnability of the valley.’

‘According to Cruinn, there is a tiny rocky path beside the river, room for one man at a time, sometimes passing through caves but eventually emerging into the valley beyond.’

‘Is she to be trusted?’ The lord of Muirthemne was doubtful.

‘She let it slip in an unthinking moment and seemed to regret that she had done so. I think we can trust her on that. It means coming into the valley on foot. Will you find the path and under cover of darkness reach the fortress without being seen? After all, you will face only a few unprofessional warriors while you command a troop of the Craobh Rígh.’

Ibor flushed at the implication that the Royal Branch warriors of Ulaidh were afraid of conflict with a handful of non-professional warriors.

This time Ibor gave no hesitation.

‘If there is a way, Sister, my men and I will find it. If we can enter the valley unseen then we will be in control of Laisre’s ráth before dawn as you demand.’

‘Good. Once you have control then I think I will be in a position to draw the veil from these plots and murders without fear for myself.’

‘But we have twelve hours to survive before that,’ Eadulf pointed out.

‘We?’ queried Fidelma with a smile. ‘I suggested that you remain with Ibor.’

‘You do not think that I am letting you return alone, do you?’ Eadulf asked in annoyance.

‘I do not ask this of you, Eadulf. It is not your fight.’

‘Neither was the fight between Cashel and the Uí Fidgente but I became involved and made it my fight,’ he said firmly. ‘What threatens Cashel is still my fight.’

He placed a certain emphasis on the last sentence.

Fidelma pretended not to understand but she did not argue further with him.

‘Then, Ibor, we will see you at dawn tomorrow. We will be banking on you.’

Ibor escorted them to the small ravine where his red-haired lieutenant, more deferential now towards them, had their horses waiting. They bade a brief farewell and the red-haired warrior guided them out of the foothills to the edge of the valley. Fidelma refused to allow Ibor’s man to ride further with them in case they encountered anyone from Gleann Geis on the way back. Fidelma and Eadulf continued to ride south keeping to the border of the foothills and not heading back across the valley.

‘Do you really think that you can prove Orla was responsible for the death of Solin?’ Eadulf broke the silence after they had been riding for a while.

‘I need to answer one question and then I might safely put forward a hypothesis,’ she replied quietly.

Eadulf’s mouth drooped pessimistically.

‘A hypothesis is no argument before a judge,’ he replied.

‘True, but it is going to be the best I can offer,’ she agreed. ‘I think it will be enough to bring forth those who will support us against Mael Dúin of Ailech.’