Peter Tremayne - The Spider's Web

‘And Muadnat is hunting in the hills?’

‘Just as I have said.’

‘Call your men before me, Agdae,’ demanded Dubán.

Agdae hesitated and then relayed the order.

The dozen or so farm hands gathered nervously under his scrutiny. They looked a sorry sight for most of them were elderly,sinewy and with strength for the plough and the sickle but not for the robust life of a cattle raider. Dubán looked at Fidelma and shrugged.

‘These men will not be counted among the raiders,’ he said. ‘Shall we search the farmstead further?’

Fidelma reluctantly shook her head.

‘Is it worth picking up the trail which Archú indicated and following the path of the raiders?’ she suggested.

Dubán chuckled dryly.

‘The route which was pointed out to us lay through a swamp land. Indeed, this is why this area is called the Black Marsh. Apart from the track which leads here, the other trails are dangerous. There is no way of following a trail through that treacherous bog.’

Brother Eadulf abruptly leaned forward from his horse and addressed Agdae.

‘I have a question for you,’ he said softly.

‘Then ask away, Saxon,’ Agdae replied complacently.

Eadulf pointed across the fields.

‘Behind your farmstead there is a path which apparently leads up into the northern hills. It seems to lead in the opposite direction to the track that would take us back to the rath of Araglin. I thought there was only one way in and out of this valley?’

‘What of it?’ demanded Agdae.

Fidelma had raised her gaze towards the spot Eadulf had indicated and saw that he was right. There was a path there. She had not noticed it before. It was a recognisable track that rose across the northern hills, along the high meadows and clumps of woodland, towards the edge of the forests which spread across the hills on the far side of the valley.

‘Where does that route lead?’ queried Eadulf.

‘Nowhere,’ replied Agdae shortly.

Dubán took up the idea at once.

‘We are told that the raiders rode in the direction of your farmstead. If they did not take the track leading back into themain valley of Araglin then the only path is that one. So where does it lead?’

‘No spot in particular,’ Agdae insisted. ‘I told the Saxon no lie.’

‘What?’ Dubán let out a roar of laughter. ‘Every path must lead to somewhere.’

‘You know me, Dubán. I know every path and every dell within these valleys. I tell you that the track leads nowhere. It loses itself on the far side of the hills.’

‘I will accept that he tells the truth,’ replied Eadulf and sat back apparently satisfied. ‘It does not matter. If the raiders took that path then they would have been seen by someone on this farmstead. Isn’t that correct, Agdae?’

The man looked disconcerted for a moment and then jerked his head in agreement.

‘You speak the truth, Saxon. They would have been seen.’

Fidelma was slightly perplexed. She wondered why Eadulf had asked about the path if he was not prepared to insist on the logical assumption that the raiders might have escaped by that route and suggest that Dubán take his men in pursuit. She quickly deduced that there was another reason to Eadulf’s question.

Dubán was not persuaded.

‘I will send two of my trackers to check the path. If they find any sign of the raiders then we shall go in pursuit.’

Agdae sniffed in displeasure.

‘They will find nothing.’

Dubán motioned to two of his men who set off at a canter in the direction of the pathway.

Agdae was looking sourly at Fidelma.

‘It seems that you are determined to paint my uncle Muadnat as a villain, dálaigh.’

‘Muadnat is capable of painting his own image,’ replied Fidelma without concern.

‘Dubán, there is a horseman approaching!’ It was one of Dubán’s men.

They all turned in the direction to which the man was pointing. A horseman was certainly approaching from the direction of the main track to the rath of Araglin. It did not take long to recognise the slight form of Father Gormán.

‘What is happening here?’ called the priest as he rode up.

‘You startled us, Father,’ rejoined Dubán. ‘You seemed to appear from nowhere.’ He glanced at the priest’s attire and added: ‘It is cold weather to be abroad without a riding cloak.’

Father Gormán shrugged.

‘It was warm when I started out this morning,’ he said dismissively. ‘But what is the matter?’

‘Have you not heard that Archú’s farmstead has been attacked? That is why we are nervous about horsemen in this area.’

The dark-featured priest looked uneasy.

‘An attack? This is shameful. These cattle raiders again, I suppose?’ He paused and shrugged. ‘I was on my way to Archú’s place anyway. But if there are raiders still about perhaps I should take care to go in company.’

‘Oh,’ Fidelma was sardonic, ‘the raiders are long gone but surely you have your Faith to guard you from harm. Still, I am sure you would be welcomed at Archú’s farm. There is a corpse that stands in need of your blessing.’

Father Gormán glowered in annoyance.

‘Who has been killed?’ he demanded.

‘No one seems to know,’ Dubán confessed. He was about to add something else when his two men came back.

‘We have examined the path. The ground is far too stony to define any tracks so far as we climbed it. We went about a mile.’

Dubán was disappointed.

‘I do not want to waste time in fruitless chases,’ he muttered. ‘If the track leads nowhere then it is a waste of time. I will accept what you say, Agdae, but tell your uncle that I, Dubán, wish to see him when he returns. I do not think we can do any more here.’

He glanced towards Fidelma, as if seeking her approval, and she inclined her head in agreement.

They left Father Gormán talking with Agdae, and turned back towards the rath of Araglin. It was after they had ridden away from Muadnat’s farmstead, heading back along the track out of the valley, that Fidelma turned to Eadulf and quietly asked him what had prompted him to ask his question about the path if he was simply prepared to take Agdae’s word about where it led.

‘I wanted to see his reactions because I saw someone on the path as we rode up to the farmstead. I think everyone must have had their attention on Agdae and his men for it appears no one else noticed the figure but myself.’

‘I did not even see the path,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘Certainly no one has said that they saw a figure on the hills.’

‘Well, I saw someone riding swiftly along the path and vanishing into the trees behind the farmstead.’

‘Who was it? Muadnat?’

Eadulf shook his head.

‘No. The figure of the rider was not male. It was the slighter figure of a woman. I saw her shape clearly in the sunlight as we came up to the farm buildings.’

Fidelma raised her eyebrows in exasperation. She always felt irritated when Eadulf prolonged his pronouncements for dramatic effect.

‘Did you recognise who it was?’ she demanded as patiently as she could.

‘I believe that it was Crón.’

Looking out from the window of the guests’ hostel, Fidelma saw a horse and rider galloping through the gates of the rath of Araglin. It was morning and she and Eadulf had just finished breaking their fast. They had returned to the rath late the previous evening without any resolution to their visit to the farmstead of Archú. Dubán had decided to send a second man back to the farmstead after they had left Muadnat’s farm as protection. But Dubán was convinced, however, that bandits were responsible for the raid. Even as Fidelma and Eadulf had sat down to breakfast, they had seen Dubán and a group of his warriors ride out and presumed that they had set out in another searching sweep of the countryside.