Peter Tremayne - The Spider's Web

‘My mother taught me to decipher it,’ admitted the young man. ‘But I am not well versed in it.’

‘What do you make of this?’ She handed him the vellum. Archú took it and held it up.

‘If you want to know the answers to the deaths in Araglin lookbeneath the farmstead of the usurper Archú,’ he read in a hesitant fashion.

He looked at Fidelma in perplexity.

‘What does it mean?’

‘That is why I am here — to find out. I found it on the body of … a dead man.’

‘A dead man?’ he repeated bewilderedly.

‘Yes. Menma.’

The young farmer showed his astonishment.

‘But Menma was here this morning with a message.’

‘What was this message?’ Fidelma leant forward in surprise.

‘Something about Dignait being missing. I was to warn Dubán’s men to look out for her.’

‘Is this another attempt to blacken our name and drive us from the Black Marsh?’ demanded Scoth, clinging to Archú’s arm.

‘We must presume that some trail has been laid for me to follow. Let us see what we can find.’

‘By all means search the farmstead.’ Archú threw out his arms eloquently. ‘We have nothing to hide.’

Fidelma took the vellum from his hands and rolled it up.

‘The message appears specific when it says “look beneath the farmstead”, Archú,’ she pointed out. ‘What lies beneath the farmstead?’

The young man thought for a moment.

‘Nothing lies underneath the farmstead.’

‘Is there no area of recently dug earth that you have noticed? Perhaps …’

Archú suddenly startled them by snapping his fingers.

‘I think I know what is meant.’

‘What?’ demanded Scoth.

‘I have remembered something my mother told me about a subterranean chamber. This farmstead was built on an ancient site when, in the times past, they built underground chambers for storing food to prepare against any period of hardship or inclement weather.’

‘Have you ever seen it?’

‘I can’t remember it. My mother said it was closed when I was a few years old because one of the children of a servant here was caught down there and died. Father Gormán was visiting at the time and it was he who fetched the child out and suggested the chamber be sealed up. So far as I know, it has never been opened since then. I had almost forgotten all about it until you prompted me.’

Fidelma sniffed slightly.

‘It seems that the author of this letter has not. We must search out the entrance to it.’

‘That is impossible. I do not know where to start.’

‘Not so impossible. Our letter writer expects us to find it. Therefore it must have been in use recently.’

The floor of the farmhouse was stone-flagged and some time spent tapping the stones revealed nothing. There was no hollow sounding echo nor was there any looseness of the flags.

‘Perhaps it is outside?’ Scoth suggested.

They walked around the farmhouse but nothing seemed to invite them to investigate further.

‘What of that barn?’ demanded Fidelma, pointing to a nearby outhouse. It stood next to the one that was now a charred ruin.

‘It has not been cleaned and converted yet,’ Archú assured her.

‘It was used for keeping pigs in.’

‘Then this might be the best place to look,’ Fidelma suggested, leading the way to it.

The place stank and the obnoxious odours caught at her throat. Archú had been right when he said that it had been used as a pigsty and barely cleaned.

In spite of the fact that it was daylight, the place was gloomy and dank.

‘I have moved the pigs out and have been meaning to clean the place,’ Archú explained as Fidelma stood hesitating in the gloom.

‘Best get a lamp.’

‘I will get one,’ offered Scoth.

It was some moments before she returned.

Fidelma, holding the lamp high, entered the foul smelling barn and peered about. The floor was similarly flagged with stones. They seemed firm enough but then Fidelma noticed that in a corner of the straw covered floor there was a raised area of planking. Scraping the wet straw away with her foot she discovered it was a trapdoor. Bolts held it down to the floor.

‘This must be the entrance,’ she observed in satisfaction. ‘Hold this lamp, Scoth. Give me a hand, Archú. Let us clear this area and open the trapdoor.’

It took them a while before the large wooden square was unbolted and raised back against one wall. Below, as she had guessed there might be, was a flight of rough hewn stone steps leading downwards. The man-made cavern was lined with dry stone walling surmounted by large lintels forming the roof.

Fidelma took the lantern from Scoth and descended without a word. The steps led into a main passage, too low to stand up in but not so low that one would have to crouch on all fours. As Archú had said, in olden times these places were called uaimh talamh, an underground cave in which food was placed for storage to be used in hard times. The main passage was called a ‘creep way’ from which little chambers led off. The place smelled vile and its lack of use was certainly evident.

Fidelma did not have to go far to see what she had come for. She was expecting something but was still not quite prepared for the body which revealed itself in the light of her lamp.

It was Dignait. Her throat was cut. It needed no expert to see that. The wound was still red and gaping, even though the blood was congealing. Dignait had been dead for some hours. Fidelma forced herself to examine the wound carefully. It was but a single wound caused by a sharp implement almost severing the head from the neck. She had seen this type of wound twice before andagain she was reminded of the slaughter of some animal.

Archú helped extract the body from the underground storage space. Its removal was difficult but they finally hauled it up the stone steps and into the pigsty. Scoth had gone to fetch a lantern and by its light Fidelma carefully examined the body for anything which might explain this gruesome mystery. There was nothing.

It was obvious to Fidelma that Menma must have brought the body of Dignait to this spot. She recalled how he had ridden out of the rath early that morning leading the ass with the heavy pannier on its back. She ground her teeth. Dignait’s body must have been in that pannier.

‘Was Menma left alone while he was here?’ she demanded.

‘After he delivered the message to Dubán’s men, who were with me in the high meadow, he came back to the buildings here on his own. But Scoth was here.’

‘I was in the house,’ Scoth affirmed. ‘Menma came to the house to make his farewell.’

‘Did you observe him arrive from the high field?’

Scoth shook her head.

‘I was doing some washing and did not notice him until he called out to me.’

‘Then plenty of time for him to come back from the high meadow, see he was not observed and take Dignait’s body from the pannier and put it into the underground chamber before calling out to Scoth.’

Scoth stared in horror at Fidelma.

‘The body was in the pannier? But how did Menma know where to put it? He must have known where the underground chamber was.’

‘Menma was related to Muadnat,’ Archú pointed out. ‘Muadnat knew this farm as well as his own.’

They were interrupted by the sound of a horse cantering along the track.

Archú swung round nervously but he immediately relaxed.

‘It is only Dubán,’ he said, adding unnecessarily, ‘that is why his men did not warn us of his approach.’

Fidelma had an immediate feeling of unease as she saw the burly warrior approaching. She was still unsure of his motive for killing Menma.

Dubán swung off his horse and greeted them with a warm smile. Then he saw the body at their feet.