‘Going to leave you…’ he whispered.

  Eadulf forced a smile. ‘Can’t do that. You have only just found me. Anyway, who were these men? Who were they who tortured you?’

  ‘Wanted to know where it was hidden … couldn’t tell them.’

  ‘Where what was hidden?’

  Egric groaned and Eadulf allowed him a little more water. It didn’t really matter now if it was the wrong thing to do.

  ‘Leader … called Maon. Maybe same gang as attacked us on the river. Maon. Don’t know.’

  ‘What did he want?’

  There was another bout of coughing. Egric’s face was screwed up in pain.

  ‘Who … who is Brother Docgan? Ask custodes … ask … Bosa! Bosa! No time now.’ His face contorted again.

  ‘We’ll find out. Don’t worry,’ Eadulf promised.

  Egric tried to shake his head. ‘Not worried. I hear them coming – soon be off to Gladsheim.’ Then an anxious look appeared on his face. ‘It does exist, doesn’t it, big brother?’

  Eadulf swallowed hard. Gladsheim – Woden’s Castle in Asgard. Thoughts of his youth, the time before he adopted the New Faith, flooded into his mind. Should he deny the Old Faith now? He realised that his younger brother’s eyes were becoming dull and foggy. It would not be long now.

  ‘If you truly believe in the House of Vali, you will speed yourself to Asgard, little brother,’ he mumbled. ‘Woden will be waiting for you in Gladsheim.’

  A smile of contentment spread slowly across Egric’s features and he closed his eyes for a moment. Then they were suddenly wide with anxiety again, and his eyes flickered from side to side as if seeking something.

  ‘But I must go … weapon in hand! Can’t enter without sword!’ Some incredible power caused his hands to flail about as if searching.

  Eadulf turned quickly to Gormán. ‘Lend me your sword for a moment.’

  Gormán did not question him but handed him his sword, hilt first. Eadulf took it and seized the uninjured hand of his brother, placing it around the hilt.

  ‘Feel it, little brother? Feel it?’ he whispered urgently. ‘The sword – your sword – it is in your hand.’

  Egric’s eyes closed again, the smile once more on his face. His hand was clutching spasmodically at the hilt of the sword.

  ‘Thank you, big brother.’ His voice was no more than a sigh. ‘I will see you again, one day, in the great city of Aesir. Live long and be well, before that day surely comes.’

  A coughing fit came on him, and when it passed, a curious strength and purpose moulded his features. Slowly he raised the sword in his one good hand until the tip was pointing skyward. Then he gave a mighty shout. ‘Woden!’ His voice was still echoing through the surrounding woods when he fell backwards, his eyes staring sightlessly up at the sky.

  Eadulf felt the tears begin to stream from his eyes.

  ‘God’s speed, little brother,’ he wept. ‘May Woden be ready to greet you in Gladsheim. And may my God forgive me for helping you journey to him rather than to the Heaven of the Christians.’

  After a few moments he realised that Gormán was standing nervously at his side. He took the sword from his brother’s lifeless hand and, without wiping away the tears, handed it back to him hilt first.

  ‘You have just seen the death of a warrior of my people,’ he said. ‘The death of a warrior, according to the rituals of the old gods of my race.’

  Gormán said nothing but allowed Eadulf to continue to kneel in silence by the side of his brother and take his own time in saying his farewells.

  Eventually, Eadulf drew himself together. He rose and looked around. Gormán and Aidan had searched the camp and placed the bodies of the two men side by side.

  ‘I don’t recognise them,’ he said. Gormán and Aidan shook their heads at his unasked question. ‘My brother mentioned the name of one of them. What was it? Maon.’ He frowned suddenly: where had he heard that name before? Wasn’t it the name of the girl that Beccan said he had taken medicines to? No, that was surely wrong. He turned to Gormán. ‘What sort of name is Maon? I thought it was a girl’s name, but my brother said it was the leader of these two men.’

  ‘It can be either a male or female, friend Eadulf,’ answered the warrior. ‘It means the Silent One and was a by-name for one of the old pagan gods. The lady Fidelma would know it also, for Maon was the name of the daughter of her teacher, the Brehon Morann.’

  Eadulf glanced around and then up at the sky. ‘Can we get back to Cashel from here by nightfall? It is important.’

  ‘Nightfall comes early at this time of year. But we could cross at Finnian’s Height now that the brothers in the abbey there have built a new bridge across the Siúr, and there is, as you know, a good road from there. The last part of the journey could be made in safety even after nightfall.’

  ‘Is Finnian’s Abbey nearby?’ Eadulf asked in surprise. ‘I know that road well.’

  ‘It is. What do you wish to do, Eadulf?’

  ‘Put these bodies in that hut. We’ll take their horses to the abbey and tell the brothers there that they can have them if they come and retrieve the bodies for burial or dispose of them as they will. We do not have the time. However, I shall take my brother’s body back to Cashel.’

  Gormán and Aidan exchanged a glance but said nothing. Gormán took a blanket and wrapped Egric’s body carefully in it. As easily as if he were lifting a child, he picked it up and slung it over one of the horse’s backs and secured it. While he was doing this, Aidan gathered some dead wood and branches and covered the two bodies.

  ‘There was absolutely no means of identification on them?’ Eadulf asked.

  ‘None,’ affirmed Gormán. ‘They were certainly not warriors. Perhaps they were members of Rudgal’s thugs. Didn’t Cummasach say that two of them had escaped?’

  Eadulf had forgotten. ‘Let’s get back to Cashel,’ he said wearily.

  With that, they mounted, with Gormán leading the horse bearing Egric’s body. Eadulf followed while Aidan brought up the rear, leading the other two horses. Apart from their brief stop at the abbey in Finnian’s Height, the journey back to Cashel was made in sombre silence.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Eadulf was gazing gloomily from the window, down towards the gates, as a group of horsemen entered the courtyard. They were warriors, led by Enda. After recent events, Colgú had decided to increase the number of patrols around Cashel.

  ‘I hear the Council of Brehons have made up their minds,’ Eadulf said, turning to where Fidelma was sitting before the fire.

  ‘I can’t help feeling sorry for old Aillín,’ she replied. ‘He leaves tomorrow for his retirement, but does so unwillingly. I agree that he should have stood down from the office voluntarily. It’s a bad end to a long career.’

  ‘Do you know this new Chief Brehon – what’s his name … Fíthel?’

  ‘I met him only once at a gathering of the Council of the Brehons, but our paths have never really crossed. He is from the Corco Mruad in the north-west of the kingdom and I have had no cause to spend time there. He is quite young and has a reputation as one who has never made false judgements. I am told he arrives later today.’

  She rose and began pacing the floor of their chamber deep in thought, and now she came across to join him at the window.

  ‘Are you sure your brother used the word custodes?’ It was not the first time she had asked the question.

  ‘I have told you exactly what he said,’ Eadulf replied patiently. ‘Why do you refuse to let me challenge Brother Bosa? Didn’t Egric indicate he was at the bottom of this entire affair?’

  ‘Your brother also asked who Brother Docgan was.’

  ‘That was the person Egric told Gormán he and Victricius were due to meet in Cluain Meala. We now know there is no such person.’

  ‘It is a Saxon name, you said, and it means “little dog”.’

  ‘Knowing the meaning doesn’t help.’

  Fidelma whirled around and immediately continued her pacing.

  ‘You will wear a groove in the floor soon,’ Eadulf said in exasperation. ‘Look – my brother identified Bosa with his dying breath. There is no need to delay – we should challenge him immediately!’

  Fidelma’s features were like the onset of a thunderstorm as she halted and turned to face him. Then she caught herself. Her features softened in sympathy and she placed a hand on his arm.

  ‘It’s hard, Eadulf, I know. You had not seen Egric in ten years, and just when you thought you had found him again, he was snatched away by death. But you must not let emotion cloud your vision.’

  ‘He said…’

  ‘I know what he said, and it confirms what I have been thinking. I believe that I know who is behind these killings … all these killings … and I am now trying to work out a means of ensnaring that person.’

  ‘Maybe if you shared your knowledge with me, we could find some way,’ retorted Eadulf dryly.

  ‘When you cast your mind over everything that has happened, you will realise that there is no witness to any of the murders apart from the killer or killers. It is difficult to go to law without witnesses. We have none to the attack on Victricius now that Egric is dead; no witness to the murders of Brother Cerdic, Rudgal, Sister Dianaimh and of Beccan. We do not even have a witness to the attempt on our lives.’

  ‘And you really believe that they are all linked?’

  ‘Oh yes, they are. And one by one, the people who could have provided witness have been eliminated. Sadly, even this man Maon and his companion are now dead – but that cannot be helped.’

  ‘You believe that Beccan was referring to Maon when he talked about taking medicine to someone in the woodman’s hut?’

  ‘Beccan was not good at remembering names. My brother once commented on it, if you recall. He suspected that because Beccan was no good at remembering names, he had to write them down. Beccan needed a fictitious woman’s name to cover the fact that he was actually meeting Maon. As Maon could be used for either a man or a woman, he decided to stick with the real name so that he could remember it.’

  ‘That is a circumstantial deduction,’ Eadulf argued.

  ‘This whole affair rests on circumstances. What we call “indirect evidence under the law”. But while the law acknowledges ground for suspicion, even the accusation of guilt cannot be made without what we call the “arrae cuir” – a number of reputable people who individually make accusation. Even then, it is not valid if the accused can demonstrate some innocent reason to explain that these suspicions are not justified. That is the frustration.’

  ‘So you know who is at the centre of these mysteries, but you can’t accuse them because you don’t have the evidence?’

  ‘Correct. I have no conclusive proof with which I could demonstrate that guilt before Chief Brehon Fíthel, who must now judge the matter.’

  ‘In some ways your law system here is good, Fidelma. In other ways, I prefer that of my own people. If there are grounds for suspicion, the person is charged and it is up to him or her to show their innocence.’

  ‘Let us stick to the law as it applies here,’ Fidelma replied. ‘You said that Maon and his companion tortured Egric to make him reveal … reveal what? Where something was hidden? We both know what that something is, and I think you now understand how it came into the hands of Victricius and your brother.’

  Eadulf gave an unwilling gesture of affirmation.

  Suddenly, Fidelma was smiling. ‘Eadulf, I think I have finally found a way to get the evidence. In fact, I am ashamed that I did not think of it before. Let us find Gormán.’

  Puzzled, Eadulf hurried after Fidelma as she set off in search of the Commander of the Warriors of the Golden Collar.

  He was at the Laochtech and greeted Fidelma with a tired smile.

  ‘I hope you are here to tell me to release Deogaire, lady,’ he asked hopefully. ‘I am not only getting problems from him, but now I have to put up with criticism from Aibell. I didn’t know that she knew him.’

  ‘Has Aibell been here?’ Fidelma was annoyed. ‘I told her I would inform her when she would be allowed to see him.’

  ‘You may recall that she was never any good at accepting orders, lady,’ Gormán replied glumly. ‘She’s been here several times, demanding to see Deogaire. Of course, I am following your orders, but you would think from her manner that I had turned into some kind of ravening monster.’

  ‘I am sorry that this has become a problem between you both.’ Fidelma was contrite. ‘However, I think we must hold him one more day. At the moment, there is a task I want you to undertake. I want you to seek out some people, but in a manner whereby they will think that they are meeting you by accident. Above all, they must not know that you have spoken to any of the others.’

  Gormán’s eyes brightened. ‘Is this a secret task, lady?’

  ‘Something like that,’ smiled Fidelma. ‘What I want you to do is spread some gossip. Have you talked to anyone in depth since you came back with Eadulf after the attempted rescue of his brother?’

  ‘We reported to you and to the King, of course.’

  ‘But to no one else?’

  He shook his head. ‘My duties have kept me busy, lady. But I should think that the King might have told people like Abbot Ségdae what happened.’

  ‘What happened, yes – but now I want you to remark casually that Eadulf brought back a small leather box. Egric had hidden it but Eadulf recovered it – and being anxious about it, took it straight to Brother Conchobhar who has placed it securely in his apothecary.’

  Not only did Gormán look startled, but Eadulf as well.

  ‘A leather box?’ Gormán ran a hand through his hair trying to understand.

  ‘It is a ruse,’ Fidelma explained patiently to them. ‘The people you tell must know that the box is in safekeeping with Brother Conchobhar; that it had been in the possession of Eadulf’s brother and that Eadulf is worried about the safety of its contents. Is that understood? Above all, it must appear as if you were confiding only in the individual you speak to.’

  ‘I don’t understand it, lady.’ But Gormán shrugged and grinned, ‘However, I shall ensure the message is passed on in the form of gossip, as only a warrior sometimes knows how to gossip about things he doesn’t understand. Now, who are the people you want this information to be made known to?’

  * * *

  Brother Eadulf shifted uncomfortably in his seat on the cold floor in the corner of Brother Conchobhar’s apothecary, wishing he could get up and stretch to ease his cramped limbs. Fidelma was similarly seated on the opposite side of the room. He wondered whether old Brother Conchobhar had fallen asleep in his little back room. Then he spared a thought for Gormán, hiding in the shadows of the chapel’s side entrance across the small courtyard that separated the two buildings. It was the only place where he could view the door of the apothecary. It was a night without stars and no trace of moonlight penetrated through the clouds. Eadulf had no conception of the passing of time but was sure it was well after midnight. He was pessimistic that this so-called ruse of Fidelma’s would work.

  Time passed. He was just beginning to drift off as natural tiredness overcame him, when he heard a noise and was suddenly wide awake. There was a movement at the side window. He pressed back into the shadows. There was a faint tinkle of breaking glass and the squeak of a catch. He felt the cold night air as the window was opened. Heavy breathing followed, and a grunt, as someone hauled themselves through the opening which, he recalled, was not large but just big enough to take a human.

  Now the figure was in the apothecary, standing upright and trying to adjust to the darkness.

  ‘I was hoping that you would be the first to arrive, Brother Bosa,’ Fidelma’s clear voice rang out.

  The man whirled round with a gasp. ‘I am—’ he began.

  ‘Stay still, do not speak,’ Fidelma ordered in an even voice before calling: ‘Conchobhar!’

  The adjoining door at the rear of the apothecary opened and Brother Conchobhar’s voice whispered: ‘Do we have him?’

  ‘We have our first visitor,’ Fidelma confirmed. ‘Brother Bosa, go with Brother Conchobhar and wait with him quietly until I say so. Oh, and be careful. Brother Conchobhar has in his hand an altan – what you would call a sharp surgical knife. Its cut can be painful. So I suggest that you say and do nothing.’

  Eadulf was starting to crawl from his hiding place but her voice ordered him to stay where he was. Time passed and he was getting restless again when he heard another sound. Fidelma had insisted that the door of the apothecary be shut and locked to avoid any suspicion, for she had estimated that her adversary would realise the door would be locked. If it had been left unlocked, then it would have looked suspicious – like a trap. There was a scraping of metal on metal, followed by a snapping sound. Eadulf was feeling tense now, peering forward in the darkness.

  In spite of the depth of the night, he could make out from the difference in tone when the door opened. Something dark appeared – and then there was complete blackness again. Eadulf presumed that the door had swung shut behind the intruder. There was silence for a moment and then the soft sound of stone on metal as the newcomer tried to light a lamp in the darkness. Then came a flame – and suddenly there was illumination.

  Eadulf heard Fidelma rising on the other side of the room and he too stood up, staring with amazement at the figure revealed by the light. Shock registered on their features. This was the last person he had expected to respond to Fidelma’s ruse.

  The figure dropped the lamp, which was immediately extinguished, but the door swung open and a tall shadow was blocking it. Gormán’s voice was sharp.

  ‘There is no escape, so just relax.’

  At that moment, the interior door opened and the place was flooded with light again as Brother Conchobhar came in holding high a lantern with one hand and his knife in the other. Briefly, the figure seemed to be trying to decide whether to put up some resistance. Then there came a deep sigh and the shoulders slumped in resignation.