Peter Tremayne - The Spider's Web

Crón hesitated, wondering if there was some hidden meaning to Fidelma’s offer.

‘The judgment is mine to make?’

‘You are the chieftain-elect of the Araglin,’ acknowledged Fidelma. ‘You will make the judgment.’

Crón thought for a moment. It was true that Fidelma, as a dálaigh qualified to the level of anruth, one degree below the highest awarded in the five kingdoms, could simply demand to take her seat in judgment. That was the law for, in a place where there was no permanent Brehon, a visiting judge could, depending on their degree of office, outrank a minor chieftain. That Fidelma had asked permission merely to sit and advise was clearly herway of showing that she did not wish to interfere with Crón’s authority.

‘What could be wrong with Muadnat’s plea?’ Crón demanded, still defensively.

‘That remains to be seen. Muadnat was bitter when the law was pronounced against him and he lost the farm to young Archú.’

Crón accepted this.

‘Do you think that Muadnat has concocted this charge then?’

‘As you will sit in judgment on him, it is better, perhaps, if I kept my thoughts to myself,’ Fidelma immediately replied. ‘But let me sit with you and I will advise you merely on the law, and you will judge the facts. My words will be on law, no more. You have my oath on it.’

‘Then, to that I agree.’ For the first time in the presence of Fidelma, Crón gave what appeared to be a genuine smile of friendship.

‘What time is Muadnat to present himself before you?’

‘At the midday hour.’

‘Then I will go and tell Eadulf.’

‘He is an interesting man, that Saxon of yours,’ Crón observed slyly.

‘Of mine?’ Fidelma arched an eyebrow in surprise. ‘Eadulf belongs to no woman or man.’

‘You appear friendly enough,’ Crón replied. ‘Surely, the handsome brother does not believe in the ideas that Father Gormán teaches about the servants of God, male and female, remaining in celibacy?’

Fidelma found herself flushing.

She realised that although she had debated all the aspects of Roman teaching with Eadulf they had never touched on the concept of celibacy. While Rome made no hard and fast rule on the celibacy of the religious, it was true that there was a growing number of the clergy who believed in the idea that members of the religious should not cohabit or marry. It was surely such an alien ideato human beings that it would never be accepted.

She found Crón watching her with some amusement.

She thrust out her chin.

‘Brother Eadulf and I have been friends, and friends alone, since we met at the council held at Hilda’s abbey in Northumbria. That is all.’

It was clear that Crón treated the assurance with some scepticism.

‘It is nice,’ she observed meaningfully, ‘to have such a friend.’

‘Speaking of friends,’ Fidelma returned slyly, ‘I must find Dubán.’

‘What is so important that you need speak with him so urgently?’ queried the tanist.

‘Have you heard of Gadra?’

Crón looked surprised.

‘Why do you wish to know about Gadra?’

‘So you do know him?’ pressed Fidelma eagerly.

‘Of course. I have not seen him since I was a tiny girl. I can just remember him. He lived at Teafa’s cabin for some years. But he went away again. He is a hermit. Nowadays the young ones think he is just a bogeyman. Because he is a hermit who vanished into the hills, some people use him as a means of scaring children into obedience.’

‘Do you know where Gadra may be found?’

Crón shook her head.

‘I doubt if he still lives.’ She shrugged. ‘But if he does then it would take a brave person to go in search of him for it was said he refused to acknowledge the Faith and consorted with evil.’

‘Consorted with evil?’

Crón nodded seriously.

‘He clung to the faith of our pagan ancestors and they say that this was why he withdrew into the vastness of the dark mountains.’

There was a movement behind Fidelma and she turned to see the middle-aged warrior enter self-consciously.

Dubán glanced from Fidelma to Crón quickly, trying to feign surprise at finding them together, and then raised a hand in salute to his tanist. Fidelma was aware that anyone who could act with such duplicity might well be able to be equally evasive in other matters.

‘The talk is of lack of success in your venture, Dubán.’ Crón greeted him with a slightly querulous voice as if she had not seen him previously that morning.

The big warrior grimaced, an expression which summed up the futility of his search.

‘We scoured the hillside for miles but there was no sign of the raiders. Two cows were driven off from the farmstead of Dioma. We followed the tracks as far as the borders of the Black Marsh but lost them in the forest.’

Crón was clearly troubled by this.

‘I cannot remember the last time when brigands were allowed to raid our valley with impunity. They must be dealt with. Our honour is at stake.’

‘It shall be done,’ muttered Dubán. ‘As soon as I have gathered a fresh band of warriors …’

‘It is futile now. Anyway, we have the legal hearing to consider. Sister Fidelma has suggested that she might sit with me. I have agreed. I have also told the sister that you will be able to help her with some information about old Gadra.’

Crón swung away and left the assembly hall leaving Dubán with an uncertain expression on his face.

‘What does she mean?’ he asked awkwardly after a moment or two. ‘About Gadra, that is?’

‘I am told you knew Gadra.’

‘Gadra the Hermit,’ Dubán acknowledged. ‘Yes, I did but that was twenty years ago. He is dead.’

Fidelma had a sinking feeling.

‘Are you sure?’

Dubán rubbed his chin reflectively.

‘Not sure. But I have not seen him since I left Araglin when I was young. He must be dead.’

Fidelma clung to her course of action.

‘Crón said she saw him when she was a young girl; that he came to stay with Teafa in the rath. If he were still alive, would you know where he might be found?’

Dubán indicated with a jerk of his head upwards.

‘Up in the mountains, to the south. There is a little valley where he used to dwell.’

‘Would you take Brother Eadulf and myself to where he might be found?’

Dubán looked confused.

‘After all this time. He is probably dead,’ he repeated.

‘But you don’t know for sure?’

‘No. But the journey will doubtless be wasted. It is nearly a day there and a day back.’

‘Will you take us?’

‘I have my duties …’

‘Crón seemed to indicate that she had no objections to your taking us.’ Fidelma felt that she was not distorting the truth. ‘Or is it that you have some other objections?’

‘But why would you want to see old Gadra? Even if he is still living, he will be an old man. What would he know that would be of help to your investigations?’

‘That is more my concern than yours, Dubán,’ she replied firmly.

Dubán was reluctant but finally said: ‘When would you want to leave?’

‘If the court reaches a conclusion soon, we could set out this very afternoon.’

Dubán tugged at his beard thoughtfully.

‘The journey will mean at least one overnight encampment, even if we do find Gadra,’ he repeated.

‘I am used to travel,’ Fidelma said pointedly.

Dubán spread his arms in resignation.

‘After the court reaches its conclusion then. If Gadra lives then we must respect his right to be a recluse. Only I will accompany you and the Saxon brother. No one else.’

‘It is agreed,’ Fidelma confirmed as she left the hall.