Peter Tremayne - Valley of the Shadow

‘Then what are you saying?’ frowned Eadulf.

‘That these bodies are laid out as part of a ritual but what form of ritual — pagan or Christian — we must endeavour to find out by other observations.’

‘Such as?’

‘Have you observed the manner in which these unfortunates were precipitated from this world?’

Eadulf confessed that he had not.

‘Have you ever heard of The Threefold Death?’

‘I have not.’

‘There is an ancient tale that once, long ago, our people forsook the ancient moral code of our Druids and fell to the worship of a great golden idol called Cromm Cruach, the god of the Bloody Crescent, to whom human sacrifices were offered. He was worshipped on the Plain of Adoration, Magh Slécht, in the time of the High King Tigernmas, son of Follach. His very name meant “lord of death”.’

‘I have not heard this tale before,’ Eadulf said.

‘It is a period in our history which adds no pride to our people in the telling of it. The people finally tired of Tigernmas and he was mysteriously slain during the frenzied worship of the idol and our people returned their allegiance to the gods of their forefathers.’

Eadulf sniffed disapprovingly.

‘I see little difference between worship of an idol and worship of the pagan gods. Neither was the true god.’

‘You have a point, Eadulf, but at least the old gods did not demand the blood sacrifice that Cromm Cruach did.’

Eadulf ran a hand through his hair.

‘But what has this to do with … what was it? … The Threefold Death?’

‘It was the death which Cromm Cruach demanded, according to Tigernmas.’

‘I still do not follow.’

Fidelma waved a hand towards the bodies.

‘Each of these young men has been stabbed. Each has been garroted and each has had their skull crushed by a blow to the head. Does that imply anything to you?’

Eadulf’s eyes widened.

‘This is your Threefold Death?’

‘Exactly so. Each of these forms was a means of death. Every young man bears the marks of the same manner of dying. And furthermore, did you note the marks on their wrists?’

‘Marks?’

‘The burn marks of ropes. Their wrists were secured, presumably at the time of their deaths, and then the ropes were untied.’

Eadulf shivered and genuflected.

‘Do you suggest that they are the victims of some sacrificial rite?’

‘I enumerate the facts. Any conclusion would be no more than speculation.’

‘But if what you say is so, then you are suggesting that this is a pagan sacrifice and imply that the worship of the idol you mentioned, Cromm, still survives.’

Fidelma shook her head.

‘Tigernmas was said to have been the twenty-sixth king after the coming of the sons of Mile who brought the children of the Gael to Éireann. He ruled here a thousand years before Christ came to this world. Even his Druids turned on him because of this evil practice. To suggest the worship of Cromm still exists would be illogical.’

Eadulf pursed his lips a moment.

‘There is some deviltry here, though.’

‘In that, you are correct. I mentioned the number of bodies — thirty-three in all …’

‘And you implied that this number has some significance,’ interposed Eadulf hurriedly.

‘When the evil gods of the Fomorii were overthrown, it is said that they were commanded by thirty-two chieftains plus their High King. The great Ulaidh hero Cúchulainn slew thirty-three warriors in an evil fairy castle. When the Dési were expelled from Ireland by Cormac Mac Art they had to spend thirty-three years wanderingbefore they could settle down. Thirty-three champions including the king died in Bricriu’s hall … need I go on?’

Eadulf’s eyes slowly widened.

‘You are saying that the number thirty-three holds special significance in the pagan traditions of your people?’

‘I am. What we see here is some ancient ritual. The Threefold Death and the placing of the bodies in a sunwise circle and the number of the bodies all add to the ritual. But what the meaning of this ritual is, that we must discover. There is one other important observation which you have neglected to mention.’

Eadulf’s eye scanned the circle.

‘What is it?’ he asked uncertainly.

‘Examine that body and tell me what you see,’ she said, indicating a particular corpse with a wave of her hand.

Distastefully, Eadulf picked his way across the bodies and looked down. He gasped and crossed himself.

‘A brother,’ he whispered. ‘A brother of the Faith. He wears the tonsure of St John.’

‘Unlike the others, this one has cuts and lacerations to his legs and arms and face.’

‘Does this mean that he was tortured?’

‘Perhaps not. It looks more likely that he was running through some brambles from which he sustained such cuts and scratches.’

‘Yet this brother in Christ was ritually slaughtered.’ Eadulf was aghast. ‘His cloth did not save him from this mean death. You have already said yourself what this means.’

Fidelma stared at him uncertainly for a moment.

‘I have?’

‘It is obvious.’

‘If it is so, then tell me.’

‘We are heading to this Forbidden Valley where a pagan chieftain rules and who, by your very words, is opposed to the Truth of Christ’s Teaching. You are fond of quoting Latin proverbs Fidelma. I give you one. Cuius regio eius religio.’

For the first time since they had witnessed the horrendous sight Fidelma let a smile play around her lips at Eadulf’s observation.

‘The ruler of a territory chooses its religion,’ she echoed in translation.

‘This chieftain, Laisre, is a pagan,’ went on Eadulf hurriedly. ‘And is this not some pagan symbolism which is meant to frighten or intimidate us?’

‘Intimidate us to prevent us from doing what?’ demanded Fidelma.

‘Why, from going on into Gleann Geis to negotiate the establishment of a Christian church and school there. I think that it is meant as an insult to your brother as king and Ségdae as bishop of Imleach. We should leave this place immediately. Turn around and head back to a Christian land.’

‘Ignore our mission?’ Fidelma asked. ‘Is that what you mean? To flee from here?’

‘To return here later with an army and put the fear of God into these pagans who have thrown such a deliberate insult before us. Yes, that is what we should do. I’d come back here in force and wipe this nest of pagan vipers from the face of the earth.’

Standing there by the corpses it was easy to get worked up. Eadulf did so, becoming red in the face in his fury.

Fidelma was pacifying.

‘The first thought that crossed my mind, Eadulf, was as you have eloquently expressed it. But it is an obvious thought. An obvious reaction. If this sight was meant for our eyes, perhaps it is too obvious. Do not ignore the shadows cast by bright lanterns.’

Eadulf felt calmer in spite of his fear and anger as he tried to fathom her meaning.

‘What does that mean?’

‘It was an aphorism of my master, the Brehon Morann of Tara. The things that are obvious are sometimes an illusion and the reality lies hidden behind them.’

She paused and screwed up her eyes, focussing them on something on the ground not so far away.

‘What is it?’ asked Eadulf, wheeling round in the direction in which her gaze became fastened in case some new danger threatened.

The sun’s rays had struck something laying on the gorse several yards away and were reflecting off it.

Fidelma said nothing but made her way towards it, pushing through the stubby gorse before bending down and coming up with the object in her hand.

Eadulf could hear her inward gasp of breath.