Peter Tremayne - The Spider's Web

But here she was alone on foot with no weapons and only yards separating her from a large animal in search of prey. Her rational mind, working alongside the fearful emotions which swept through her, recognised the animal as a bitch, a hungry mother needing food to bring to its whelps.

It seemed that an eternity passed as wolf and human stood gazing upon one another. Fidelma felt her body begin to shake and she knew that any sudden movement would be fatal.

Then she felt something fly past her. Something seemed to hit the wolf for it uttered a terrible cry, a wild yelp, a rough hand caught her and propelled her aside, and even as it did so she saw the wolf turning and disappearing into the undergrowth.

Then she swung round and was facing Dubán in the gloom.

‘Are you all right?’ the warrior demanded. His voice was anxious.

She gave a nervous laugh.

‘I am not sure that I shall ever be all right again,’ she confessed. She breathed deeply several times to recover her equilibrium. She rubbed her arm carefully where he had grasped her. ‘You have rough hands for a warrior.’

Dubán chuckled.

‘Leather gloves, sister. They save callouses. Now, we’d best find the horses. That wolf might bring the pack back in search of us.’

‘I am sorry.’ Fidelma was contrite.

‘For what?’ demanded the warrior.

‘For being such a fool as to lose the horses.’

Dubán shrugged indifferently.

‘Even the best horseman cannot provide for every contingency, sister. The wolf was unnerving the cattle. It must have been circling through the underbrush behind you and suddenly startled the horses. I heard the cry and came hurrying back. Thank God there were a few stones on the ground and I let fly with them. You did well not to move for any movement would have been fatal.’ He paused and added. ‘But you were not hurt in the fall?’

‘Only my dignity is hurt,’ smiled Fidelma in the gloom. And the sense of pride in my own logic, she added silently. Had Dubán been the sort of person she was suspecting him to be then she would be lying back there with her throat ripped out by the ravening wolf.

‘Thank God it was only that and nothing more,’ replied Dubán. They turned and began to walk across the springy turf.

‘Do you really think the wolf might come back?’ Fidelma asked.

‘From the size of it, it was a bitch.’ Dubán confirmed her own estimate of the wolf’s sex. ‘She’ll be back looking for food for her hungry cubs.’

‘Do they often come this close to the farmlands?’

‘More often in winter than in spring or summer. Sometimes they have been known to break into the rath itself and makeoff with chickens and even a piglet as I recall.’

He halted and pointed.

‘Look, there are our horses standing by those trees. They did not go far.’

Fidelma utter a silent prayer of thanks. She did not fancy a long trudge through the night.

The two horses actually seemed pleased to see their erstwhile riders and moved towards them. They allowed themselves to be caught and mounted without any fuss.

After a while, as they began to ride on Fidelma said: ‘You saved my life there, Dubán.’

The warrior shrugged. He seemed embarrassed.

‘I took my warrior’s oath before Maenach, when he was king of Cashel, and swore to protect those in need.’

Fidelma regarded him with interest. It meant that Dubán was a warrior of the ancient order of the Golden Collar. It was said that a thousand years before the birth of Christ, Cashel sent a High King to rule over the five kingdoms of Eireann. He was Muinheamhoin Mac Fiardea, the eighth king to rule after Eber the son of Mile. And it was this High King from Cashel who instituted the order of the Golden Collar among his warriors.

‘I did not know that you were a warrior of the order of Cashel,’ Fidelma said quietly.

‘I do not often wear my golden chain of office,’ he confessed. ‘I returned to Araglin only a few years ago when I felt I was no longer young and virile enough to serve the kings there. Eber had need of an experienced man to be his commander of the guard.’ He sighed. ‘It was not an onerous position. But maybe I should have stayed in Cashel.’

Fidelma frowned at the inflection in his voice.

‘I understand that you did not like Eber?’

‘Eber the kind and generous?’

Dubán’s tone was cynical.

‘You doubt it?’

‘Someone should tell you the truth about Eber, sister.’

‘Perhaps you should tell me.’

‘I am not ready to prove my accusations. And if I cannot then I may lose what security I have made here to last me into old age.’

Fidelma was studied.

‘I have no wish to harm your prospects of a peaceful life, Dubán. But if it is security you wish, I am sure my brother, as king of Cashel, and therefore hereditary head of the order which you have taken an oath in, would not see you suffer for fulfilling your oath to tell the truth. I have already warned you that I know that the truth has been distorted. Why did you kill Menma?’

Her question came sharply, like an arrow from a bow. She heard his sharp intake of breath.

‘You know … that?’

He was silent for a moment. Then he replied.

‘I followed Menma to that cave. I had been out searching for Dignait when I came across Menma with some other men and a heavy wagon at Muadnat’s farm. They did not see me. I recognised the men as some of those who had passed us on the trail. The cattle raiders. Menma was giving them orders and left them to ride alone into the hills along the track that Agdae told us led nowhere. Naturally I followed.’

‘Where did the other men go?’

‘They headed south. I followed Menma to the cave. There was someone already at the cave.’

‘Who was it?’

‘I couldn’t see. Menma and this other person were inside the cave talking as I arrived. The other person was giving Menma instructions to kill someone in order to silence them.’

‘You did not see who this other person, the person giving instructions, was?’

‘I did not. But a battle fury descended on me when I heard. Forgetting I had only my bow in my hand, I pushed into the caveand challenged them. Menma fought back fiercely while the other person, no more than a dark shadow in the gloom of the cave, fled by me. I heard them gallop away while I was struggling with Menma. He broke loose and managed to flee to his horse. I could not let him escape. You saw what happened.’

‘I did. And I can confirm that someone else fled from the glade.’

‘Who?’

‘That I did not see. But you heard their voice.’

‘I did not recognise it.’

‘Was it male or a female?’

‘It was a whisper but deep. I think it was male.’

‘Tell me why you hated Eber? The truth, on your honour.’

In the gloom she saw Dubán’s hand go to his neck as if expecting to find the golden chain of the order of warriors there.

She saw his lips compress a moment.

‘You do well to remind me of honour, Fidelma,’ he said. ‘Maybe these last few years in Araglin I have forgotten what honour really means.’

‘Because you have spent too long mixing with young ruffians who think they are warriors? Thugs like Crítán?’

In the gloom ahead they could see lights across the valley.

‘There is the rath . We shall soon be there,’ muttered Dubán.

‘Then it is best you tell me what is on your mind, Dubán, before we reach it.’

‘Eber was not what he claimed himself to be. He was a chieftain without honour.’

‘In what way?’

‘He was morally corrupt.’

‘Moral corruption may take many forms. Can you be more specific.’

‘Have you asked why his wife quit the bed of her husband? It is rumoured that he was like a stag on heat and any deer of the herd which crossed his path was subject to his abuse.’