Peter Tremayne - Valley of the Shadow

Fidelma lowered her eyes and was reflective for a moment or two. Then she raised her head and her features showed a tranquillity.

‘I think that the last piece of the puzzle is now complete,’ she said with satisfaction. ‘I am ready. Gather the people of the ráth in the council chamber, leave aside the children. I will be along in fifteen minutes.’

Ibor was already moving to the door when she called him back.

‘Above the stair here, you will find a warrior of this ráth — Rudgal. He is bound. Get two of your men to escort him to the chamber but do not allow them to unbind his hands.’

Ibor looked momentarily astonished, then shrugged and acknowledged her order by raising his sword in salute.

When Fidelma entered the council chamber followed by Eadulf, there arose murmurs of hostility and anger. The leading inhabitants of the ráth had been gathered there at sword point by Ibor’s men. Their own swords had been removed and at each entrance Ibor’s warriors stood sentinel while, by the chieftain’s chair, Ibor himself and two of his men guarded the chieftain of Gleann Geis. In all, a dozen warriors of the Craobh Rígh were placed around the chamber. Fidelma presumed the others were acting as sentinels at the gates of the ráth or on the walls.

Laisre, his face white with anger, was slumped in his chair of office. Murgal was seated nearby looking equally unhappy. Colla was standing behind his chieftain, flushed and resentful. Orla was by his side. Her face was filled with antagonism as she scowled at Fidelma. There was no amity or affableness on any face in the chamber with the exception of Esnad. Only she appeared unconcerned by the proceedings.

Fidelma glanced around at the others who had been gathered. There was Rudgal looking wrathful. He had his arms still bound. Ronan and Bairsech, his shrewish wife, were there, along with Nemon, the prostitute, and Cruinn, the portly hostel-keeper, and Marga the apothecary. All these were people whom Fidelma had specifically asked Ibor to ensure were brought to the council chamber of the ráth. The entire assembly, apart from Ibor and his men, focussed on Fidelma with intense hatred as she took her position.

Laisre was the first to speak. He rose to his feet, his body quivering with rage.

‘Well, Fidelma of Cashel, this barbarity can only be expunged with blood,’ he announced. ‘You have transgressed all rules of hospitality, you have used foreign warriors to imprison …’

‘Barbarism is a good word to describe the evil that has permeated this valley,’ Fidelma interrupted him coldly. Her voice cut into his tirade and stilled it before he had time to gather further impetus. ‘And I have come to reveal the truth about the evil which haunts you.’

‘Aided by warriors from the north, Fidelma?’ demanded Colla. ‘How can the warriors of Ulaidh force any truth from the peopleof Muman? Is this how your brother treats his people, by the use of outside force? By mercenaries who do his bidding for money?’

‘I fear you do Ibor and his men an injustice. They are not Muman’s mercenaries. Neither are they here to enforce the truth, merely to protect those innocent among you from any harm and ensure that the truth is finally listened to. And you will listen to me because I speak not only as the voice of my brother the king but as a dálaigh of the degree of anruth whose voice can be heard by kings and to whom even a High King is subject.’

She spoke with such calm assurance that her tone commanded a silence throughout the council chamber.

Murgal broke it after some moments by saying quietly: ‘Tell us your truth, Fidelma of Cashel, and we will answer with ours.’

Fidelma smiled gently at him.

‘If you have a truth left to answer with.’ She made the riposte softly.

She stood for a moment head bowed in silence and let a tension build up among those gathered.

As Eadulf was wondering whether she should be prompted and if he should undertake the task, Fidelma began to speak, quietly at first.

‘I have been presented with many mysteries since I qualified as an advocate in our courts of law. I will not say that these were simple to solve. Brother Eadulf here knows that many were not, for he has been involved in many of these mysteries. What I will say is that the mystery I found here confounded me for a long time. Shall I remind you of that mystery?’

No one responded.

‘On arriving here Brother Eadulf and I were confronted with the slaughter of thirty-three young men in what appeared to have been a pagan ritual; the bodies naked and placed in a sunwise circle. Each one had been killed in a manner known to the ancients as The Threefold Death. Then we were confronted with the death of Brother Solin of Armagh.’

‘For which you were nearly found guilty,’ Orla pointed out sharply. ‘For which you tried to accuse me, and for which you were only released on a technicality of the law in that the Saxon showed that Artgal was an untrustworthy witness. You were not found innocent of the charge. You could still be the killer of Solin!’

Murgal looked uncomfortable at what amounted to a criticism of his judgment. He turned and shook his head at Orla.

‘Orla, my judgment stands. I can only judge according to our law.’

Orla scowled at him but did not reply.

Fidelma spoke directly to Murgal.

‘There is no need to apologise or even justify the judgment you gave, Murgal. But the death of Brother Solin was quickly followed by the death of young Brother Dianach.’

Murgal leant forward.

‘And that is easily explained for it was obvious that Artgal killed Dianach out of revenge or for some other reason once it was discovered that Dianach had bribed him to maintain his evidence against you.’

Fidelma ignored the interruption.

‘And having done so, Artgal fled the valley demonstrating his guilt in some people’s eyes?’

‘Exactly,’ Murgal said in satisfaction.

‘Poisoning himself on the way?’

There was a shocked silence.

‘Yes,’ continued Fidelma keeping her voice even, ‘Artgal was found dead on the tiny river path, having been poisoned.’

‘How do you know this?’ asked Colla.

Fidelma indicated Ibor.

‘Ibor found him. Ibor and his men,’ she corrected pedantically. ‘Ibor, you said that there were no wounds on Artgal’s body when you found it?’

The warrior took a pace forward and inclined his head in confirmation.

‘But you said that the lips were drawn back over the gums in an hideous expression.’

‘They were.’

‘And were the gums coloured a bluish-black?’

‘I did not tell you that. But, yes; they were.’

‘So now we have a total of thirty-six deaths in Gleann Geis,’ Fidelma said softly. ‘Truly, a valley that is forbidden. It forbids life!’

‘So you are intent to blame the people of Gleann Geis?’ Laisre jeered angrily. ‘Your plan is to get your brother to bring punishment on my people as you persuaded him to use the full force of the Eóghanacht against the Uí Fidgente earlier this year.’

Fidelma smiled calculatingly at the chieftain.

‘That is certainly someone’s plan, Laisre,’ she said with intent. ‘But you do me an injustice by suggesting that it is my plan. I do not mean any harm to the people of Gleann Geis. My only concern is to punish those involved with these killings.’

Murgal spoke again quelling the murmur of voices which greeted her statement.

‘Are you implying that the people responsible are here in the council chamber?’ he demanded. ‘That people responsible for all thirty-six deaths are among us now?’

‘I do not imply it. I say that it is so.’

The Druid leaned alertly forward.

‘Can you identify them?’