Peter Tremayne - The Spider's Web

A call halted them as they passed around the grey granite of the hall of assembly.

It was Dubán hurrying after them. There was still a degree of hostility in his eyes but his features were more controlled.

‘I have given orders to Crítán to carry out your instructions, sister. Móen will be made presentable for your …’ He fought for the right word. ‘To your sensibilities.’

‘I had no doubt that you would do so, Dubán,’ Fidelma replied quietly.

The elderly warrior frowned, trying to detect what hidden meaning might lurk in her voice. However much he was affronted by Fidelma’s criticism, he had apparently been told to follow her instructions.

‘Crón has charged me to attend you during your stay in the rath of Araglin and carry out any other directions you might give.’

‘I see. Well, we are on our way to Eber’s apartments to examine where Menma found the body with the wretched Móen.’

‘Then I shall be your guide,’ offered Dubán, moving off to lead them to the building which Menma had already pointed out. It was a single storey affair like most of the wooden buildings within the rath.

The door led into an easily recognisable reception room where the chieftain could dine and entertain in private when not using the hall of assembly. This room was connected to the hall by means of a door hidden behind a tapestry which Dubán indicated. There was a cauldron in a hearth, a table and chairs. The dead chieftain’s weapons hung on the wall with trophies of the hunt. Rugs and tapestries gave a warmth to the room. A wooden panelled wall and door divided it from what was obviously the bed chamber. The sleeping arrangements were simple, a large straw palliasse on the floor with rugs. Fidelma saw the bloodstains on them but did not comment. A table stood nearby on which an oil lamp stood.

‘Is that the lamp which was lit when Menma entered?’

‘Yes,’ Dubán confirmed at once. ‘The room has not been disturbed since the … the tragedy. The lamp was still lit when Icame here with Menma. Móen was kneeling just there,’ he indicated with his hand, ‘just by the bedside.’

‘Had he made any attempt to leave?’

‘Oh no.’

‘So he made no attempt to run away before you came?’

‘Run away? Deaf, dumb and blind as he was?’ Dubán laughed dryly.

‘Yet deaf, dumb and blind as he was, you tell me that he was able to enter here and kill Eber,’ mused Fidelma, examining the room. Before he could respond she instructed him: ‘Tell us what happened from your viewpoint.’

‘As commander of the guard, I was on watch that night.’

‘This is an isolated rath. Surely there is no need to mount a watch for you have the natural protection of the mountains around this valley?’

Duban nodded morosely.

‘Yet a few weeks ago we had cattle-raiders in the valley, sister. Eber asked me to set a watch.’

‘Ah yes, of course. And you were on watch during the night when Eber was murdered?’

Dubán looked chagrined.

‘To be truthful, as daylight approached, I had fallen asleep on the seat within the entrance of the assembly hall. Menma had to rouse me. He told me that he had found Eber dead and Móen was the killer. I came here with him without delay and I saw the body of Eber sprawled in the bed, just as Menma described. There was blood all over the place and you can see where it has dried. Móen was crouched as I have indicated. He still had the knife in his hand, it was stained with blood, and his clothes were all bloody as well.’

‘What was he doing?’

‘Just rocking back and forth and moaning to himself.’

‘And you were able to observe this clearly because the lamp was lit? What then?’ encouraged Fidelma.

‘I told Menma to carry on with his duties and went to fetchCritan. But he was already coming to relieve me of the watch. We took Móen to the stables and shackled him and I went to inform Crón.’

‘Ah yes, Crón. Why did you not inform Eber’s wife first? Would that not have been the correct procedure?’

‘Crón is tanist, the heir-elect. With Eber dead, she was now chieftainess-elect of Araglin. It is correct that she should be informed first of all.’

Fidelma silently agreed with Durbán’s interpretation of the protocol.

‘And then?’

‘When we started putting the shackles on Móen, he began to struggle and cry out. I told Crón so and she instructed me to fetch Teafa. I went to her chambers.’

‘And found her dead?’

‘I did.’

‘I am told, Teafa was the only person in the rath of Araglin who could calm Móen, if “calm” is the right word.’

‘She was. She had looked after him since he was a baby.’

‘And she was Eber’s sister?’

‘She was.’

‘So Móen was not her own child?’ Fidelma was puzzled about the relationship.

Dubán was firm.

‘No one knows where the child came from. But it was not Teafa’s because she would have been seen to be pregnant in the weeks before his birth and she was not. This is a small community. He was a foundling.’

‘As it is a small community, it must be known who gave birth to the child?’

‘It is not. He was not the child of anyone in the valley. That much is certain.’

‘Can you tell me any more? How and why did Teafa come to adopt the child? Who found him?’

Dubán rubbed a finger along the side of his nose.

‘All I know is that Teafa went out hunting by herself and she returned some days later with the child. She simply went to the mountains and came back with the new-born babe.’

‘Did she explain to anyone how she found it?’

‘Of course. She said that she had found it abandoned in the woods. She announced that she would adopt it. I left Araglin only a short while after that event and I was away fighting the wars of the Cashel kings until three years ago. I am told that as the child grew older, the debilities became known. But Teafa refused to give it up. Teafa never married nor had child of her own. She was a warm-hearted person and maybe needed a surrogate child. It seemed that the child and Teafa grew to be able to communicate in some curious fashion. I am not sure how.’

‘How long were you away from Araglin then?’

‘Nearly seventeen years passed until I returned to serve Eber. That was, as I have said, three years ago.’

‘I see. Is there anyone else here in the rath who might know more about Móen?’

Duban shrugged.

‘I suppose Father Gormán might know something else which can be revealed now that Teafa is dead. But Father Gormán will not be back for a day or two.’

‘What of Eber’s widow?’

‘The lady Cranat?’ Dubán pulled a sour face. ‘I am not sure. She did not marry Eber until a year or so after Teafa brought Móen to dwell among us. On my return I observed that Cranat and Teafa did not share the intimacy one might expect between sister and sister-in-law.’

Eadulf leant forward eagerly.

‘Are you saying that Cranat did not like Teafa?’

Dubán looked pained.

‘I know you Saxons pride yourselves on plain speaking. I thought I had made my view clear.’

‘Clear enough,’ conceded Fidelma quickly. ‘You are telling us that Cranat and Teafa did not get along well?’

‘Not well,’ agreed Dubán.

‘Do you know how long this state of affairs had existed?’

‘I am told that they fell out when Crón was about thirteen years old. There was some sort of argument between them and they barely spoke to one another. Certainly about two or three weeks ago I was witness to a fierce argument between them.’

‘What was this about?’

‘It is not really for me to comment on.’ It was clear that Duban felt that he was resorting to gossip. Fidelma immediately seized on his awkwardness.