Peter Tremayne - The Spider's Web

‘I shall not.’

Gadra stood aside and she went into the guests’ hostel. Eadulf was lying on his back on his mattress, his features pale but relaxed in a natural sleep of exhaustion. Fidelma moved forward and knelt beside his bed, raising her slim hand to gently touch his brow. It was still fairly warm; doubtless the fever had only just subsided. She felt a sudden tender feeling for the Saxon which she could not define. She had come near to losing him. She closed her eyes and uttered a silent prayer of gratitude.

A moment or so later she rose and found Gadra in the main room of the hostel.

‘How can I ever thank you?’

The old man examined her with his ancient pale eyes.

‘The young girl, Grella, helped a lot. I have only just sent her to her bed. Give your thanks to her.’

‘But without you …’ protested Fidelma.

‘If you would give me thanks, make sure that the truth prevails in this place.’

Fidelma inclined her head slightly.

‘I am near to the truth, old one. One question to bring me nearer. Was Tomnat the mother of Móen?’

Gadra’s expression remained inscrutable.

‘Truly, you have a perceptive mind, child.’

Fidelma allowed herself to smile.

‘Then the truth shall prevail.’

When Gadra had gone, Fidelma went into the fialtech to wash and prepare herself for a night’s repose.

Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

Fidelma was alone in the forest.

Alone and afraid.

Around her mysterious shapes slunk through the woods on either side, the undergrowth rustled and quivered. Everything was dark.

She was calling. She was not sure to whom she was calling. Her father? Yes, she must be calling to her father. He had brought her to the forest and now he had deserted her. She was only a child. Alone and lost in the forest.

Somehow, somehow in her reasoning mind, she realised that this could not be so. Her father had died when she was a baby. Why should he have brought her here and left her?

She stumbled on through the threatening darkness of the forest. Pushing her way forward. But the forest trees seemed to grow closer and closer the more she moved forward. Finally, she could not move at all and she paused and peered up.

It was strange how the trees resembled the stems of mushrooms,giant mushrooms, great fungi towering above her.

The threatening shapes were pressing closer and closer.

She called out.

It was then she realised that it was not her father who had brought her here and deserted her.

It was Eadulf to whom she was calling.

Eadulf!

She started forward, stretching out a hand …

She groaned as bright flickering sunlight greeted her open eyes.

She found herself stretching forward on her bed, one hand held out before her.

She blinked rapidly and gathered her thoughts.

It was well past dawn and she was in her bed in the guests’ hostel.

She heard a movement in the adjacent cubicle.

She swung out of her bed and drew on her robe.

Gadra was seated outside. He smiled as she joined him.

‘A good morning, sister.’

‘Is it so?’ she queried, glancing toward’s Eadulf’s cubicle.

The old man nodded solemnly.

‘It is so.’

Fidelma immediately went inside. Eadulf was still lying down but his eyes were open. He remained pale, and there were little wrinkles of pain around the corners of his mouth. But the dark eyes were clear and untroubled.

‘Fidelma!’ he greeted in a croaking voice that was weak with exhaustion. ‘I thought that I might not see another dawn.’

She knelt beside the bed, smiling reassuringly.

‘You should not give up so easily on life, Eadulf.’

‘It was a struggle,’ he admitted. ‘One I have no wish to repeat.’

‘Dignait is dead,’ she announced.

Eadulf shut his eyes for a moment.

‘Dignait? Was she responsible?’

‘It would appear that Dignait knew who prepared the poisonous dish.’

‘Then who killed Dignait?’

‘I believe I know. But I need to discover the answers to a few more questions first.’

‘Where was Dignait found? I thought she had disappeared from the rath?’

‘In an underground chamber on Archú’s farmstead.’

Eadulf showed his surprise.

‘I don’t understand.’

‘I am calling everyone who is concerned into the hall of assembly at midday when I will reveal who the killer is.’

Eadulf smiled grimly.

‘I will make myself strong enough to attend,’ he averred.

She shook her head.

‘You will remain here with Grella until you are well.’

The fact that Eadulf did not bother to argue showed that he was still very weak.

‘Are you suggesting that there is one killer for all the deaths which have happened?’

‘I suspect that there is one person responsible,’ she replied enigmatically.

‘Who?’

Fidelma gave a small laugh.

‘Get yourself well, Eadulf. I’ll come to you as soon as I am sure.’

She reached forward, took his hand and squeezed it.

Outside Gadra was checking some pungent broth for Eadulf. The odour was powerful. The young girl Grella had brought it from the kitchen. She looked nervous in Fidelma’s presence but Fidelma smiled encouragement, thanking her for all she had done.

Grella bobbed nervously.

‘I will bring your breakfast now, sister.’

While Fidelma washed the food was bought so that she was able to dress and finish eating by the time Gadra had finished giving an unappreciative Eadulf the herbal soup. By the sound ofit, he was not a particularly good patient for his protests at the taste echoed through the hostel. Fidelma put her head into the cubicle.

‘Shame on you, Eadulf. Unless you make yourself better, I shall not tell you what happens at noon.’

Gadra looked up with a frown.

‘What happens at noon?’

‘I have told Eadulf that at noon everyone concerned with this matter will gather in the hall of assembly. That will mean you and Móen. Is the young man all right?’

‘He has been much cheered by what you have done for him,’ Gadra replied. ‘He is a bright, sensitive young man, Fidelma. He deserves a chance in life. We shall be there at noon.’

It was half an hour later that she crossed to the church of Cill Uird and strode inside. A figure was kneeling before the altar in an attitude of prayerful contemplation.

‘Father Gormán!’

The priest started up in surprise.

‘You have interrupted me at prayer, Sister Fidelma.’ His voice was filled with irritation.

‘I have urgent need to speak with you.’

Father Gormán turned to the altar, genuflected and climbed slowly from his knees.

‘What is it, sister?’ he asked wearily.

‘I thought you should know that Dignait is dead.’

The priest visibly winced but he did not seem unduly surprised.

‘So many deaths,’ he sighed.

‘Too many deaths,’ replied Fidelma. ‘Five deaths already in this pleasant valley of Araglin.’

Gormán looked at her uncertainly.

‘Five?’ he queried.

‘Yes. A stop must be put to this carnage. We must put a stop to it.’

‘We?’ Father Gormán seemed nonplussed.

‘I think you can help me.’

‘What can I do?’ There was almost a suspicious note to his voice.

‘You were Muadnat’s soul-friend, weren’t you?’

‘I prefer the Roman term — confessor. And, indeed, I was confessor to most people here in Araglin.’

‘Very well. However you describe your role, I want to know whether Muadnat ever mentioned gold to you?’

‘Are you asking me to break the sacredness of the confessional?’ thundered Father Gormán.

‘It is a confidentiality that I do not recognise but I respect your right to believe in it. Let me put some questions to you. I believe that Dignait had been a servant here for many years?’