Atonement of Blood (10 page)

The shepherd replied almost at once.

‘Well, that might be Spelán. Doesn’t he have a flock along the road of rocks to the west of her place? I met him in the tavern only last night, and he was complaining about trouble with one of his ewes. That might have caused him to stir early this morning. He was truly concerned.’

‘Spelán, I don’t think I know him.’ Fidelma glanced at Gormán, and the young warrior nodded quickly.

‘I know the man,’ he said, ‘and if he is not up with his flocks, then he may well be found in Rumann’s tavern. It is a favourite place of the shepherds here.’

With a wave of farewell towards Nessán, Fidelma indicated that they should ride on.

The rath of Ordan was certainly no rath, as Gormán had foretold. The attempt to construct ramparts was no more than a ditch which would scarcely keep livestock in. However, the gate to the homestead was more substantial. It consisted of two stone pillars through which one passed into a large yard before coming to the single-storey house of stone. On top of each pillar were geese carved with beak and wings extended as if threatening the visitors – an odd symbolism for a merchant, thought Eadulf. Indeed, the building beyond seemed full of the owner’s aristocratic pretensions but did not quite measure up to the houses of nobles that Eadulf had seen throughout the country. To one side of the complex were a number of large sheds where the merchant presumably stored his goods, and outside these were two large wagons. To the other side were some buildings that showed that Ordan was self-sufficient in livestock, with pigs and some milch cows in a fenced area.

Three or four people were moving about, pursuing various tasks. One of them, having spotted their arrival, had run to the house, doubtless to inform his master of the arrival of guests.

A moment later, a man emerged through the door, crossing the porch to meet them as they halted in front of the building. He was balding, of stout proportions running to fat, his eyes almost buried in his moon face. His lips were thick, and even when closed presented an ugly shape, and his skin was pale, where it was not blotched with unhealthy pink on his fleshy cheeks. His clothes were certainly of fine quality but hung on his ill-shapen figure without disguising it. He was rubbing his pudgy hands together as he approached and bowing rapidly from his neck.

‘Lady Fidelma! Brother Eadulf! I am honoured, extremely honoured that you have come to my humble house. You are most welcome.’

Little Alchú, seated on his pony now behind Eadulf, with Gormán at his side, spoke up clearly.

‘Who is the ugly fat man, Mother?’

Fidelma’s mouth tightened to hide the smile that twitched at the corner. Ordan wheezed as he forced what passed for a laugh.

‘The little prince is not shy in stating his mind.’

‘Would that all people were as forthright in their opinions,’ muttered Eadulf piously.

‘Come in, come in. My steward will attend to your horses.’

‘We were just passing,’ Fidelma replied firmly. ‘So we will remain seated and not trespass on your hospitality. It was only a brief question.’

Ordan looked disappointed. He had already been mentally building the story of how the sister of the King had visited him and taken his refreshment.

‘As you wish, lady. But my humble house is your house and you have but to ask.’ As he spoke, he kept bowing and they found it distracting.

‘Why is that man doing that?’ Alchú piped up. ‘He’s very funny.’

Fidelma caught Gormán’s eye. ‘Take Alchú to show him the animals,’ she instructed. ‘Go with Gormán, Alchú, and when you come back you can tell me what animals you have seen.’

She and Eadulf waited until Gormán led the boy’s pony towards the barns.

Ordan was waiting, his hands still clasped together in front of him.

‘I am told that you have been away and only returned here last night,’ Fidelma began.

Ordan nodded, but he suddenly seemed uneasy. His eyes narrowed, if such a thing could be possible in his plump features. ‘And, indeed, on my return I heard the terrible news of the attempt on the life of your brother,’ he said unctuously. ‘May the devil take the soul of the assassin. I was told that Brehon Áedo, who was my very good friend, was slain but that the King, God be merciful, has survived. How is your brother, lady? Does he fare well?’

‘He fares well enough.’ Fidelma almost snapped the words to quieten the flow of honeyed tones of the merchant. ‘It appears that you had a passenger on your wagon on your return.’

Ordan blinked rapidly. ‘What has that girl been saying about me?’ he asked nervously.

‘Should she have been saying anything?’ Fidelma asked innocently.

‘Of course not. It’s just …’ The merchant seemed uncomfortable and then closed his mouth.

‘I believe you arrived in Cashel in the hours before dawn?’

‘I did so, and have barely slept since my arrival for I promised to meet a smithy from Magh Méine to do some trade with him. At first I thought it was he who was arriving when I was told you were here.’

‘What I want to know is about your passenger,’ cut in Fidelma, holding up her hand to stem his outpouring.

The pudgy-faced man scowled. ‘Is she making a complaint about me? I swear I gave her a lift for charity’s sake. She was full of bile, that one. She even threatened me with a knife. I was well rid of her when I made her get down on the edge of town. I cursed the goodness in me that prompted me to give her passage on my wagon.’

‘I want to know where you found her,’ Fidelma said.

The merchant raised his arms in a helpless gesture. ‘Found her? More like she found me and thought I was a generous soul whom she could beguile …’

‘Where did you meet her and when?’ It was Eadulf who snapped the question.

Once more Ordan blinked. ‘It was at the Ford of the Ass, on the River Suir, Brother.’

Fidelma nodded at the confirmation of their deduction. ‘So that would have been around midnight or just afterwards?’

‘It would, lady,’ confirmed Ordan.

‘Why were you so late abroad? Is it not dangerous for a merchant to travel alone at night?’

‘I had to meet a fellow merchant from the honey fields.’

‘Where had you been?’

‘I had been with my very good friend, your cousin Congal, the Prince of Iar Muman, the Prince of the Eóganacht of Locha Léin.’

Fidelma stared for a moment at the merchant. ‘And what would you be doing at the fortress of Congal?’

‘I was buying badger and fox fur and trading honey from the honey fields and hence …’

Once more Fidelma cut in. ‘It is several days’ journey from the territory of Locha Léin to the River Suir. You would have passed through the territory of the Uí Fidgente or, indeed, the Luachra?’

‘I would.’

‘You did not find that dangerous?’ asked Eadulf.

‘I have no fear of either the Uí Fidgente or Luachra, Brother Eadulf. I know the country well. There is peace between our people now so I often trade among them.’

‘And you did not meet this girl until you came to the River Suir?’

‘That is as I said. The heaviness of my eyes was pressing me to stop but I would be a poor merchant if I did not reach here in time to conclude a good bargain with the smith from Magh Méine. So I had pressed on even though night was upon me.’

‘So you came to the Ford of the Ass. What then?’

‘I saw the girl sheltering by a tree and stopped.’

Eadulf smiled cynically. ‘I thought you said that the girl stopped you?’

The merchant was unabashed, ‘Ah, so it was, Brother. So it was. She asked me to take her as far as Cashel. Out of my generosity, I did so.’

‘Did she tell you what she was doing, camping out by a tree at midnight?’

The fat merchant shrugged. ‘I presumed that she was just an itinerant. One of those wanderers in search of work, who are not to be trusted.’

‘Not to be trusted? Then why did you give her a lift?’

Ordan’s smile was sly. ‘Have I not been telling you that I am a generous man and hate to see poor creatures suffering without a warm bed of straw to lie down in for the night?’

‘So you brought her all the way to Cashel and made her get off your wagon before you even entered the town, leaving her in the darkness of the night. Wasn’t she a stranger to the area and without knowledge of the place, and therefore generosity would surely dictate that you might drop her at the door of a
bruden
or tavern?’

‘She insisted that I let her down at the edge of the township. Frankly, I was glad to do so. She was of a volatile disposition, Brothel Eadulf. She could well have attacked and robbed me, for she had a knife and it was sharp.’

‘How did you know that? Did anything occur which drew the knife to your attention?’

It seemed the red blotches on the face of the man deepened in intensity.

‘Nothing occurred, and if she tells you different then she is a liar. I am a respectable merchant. I have friends in high places. The girl was merely an itinerant and I was pleased to be rid of her.’

‘You never saw the girl before you met her at the Ford of the Ass?’ Fidelma asked.

‘I did not.’

‘You never saw her in the country of the Luachra?’

The merchant started. ‘The Luachra? Why do you mention them?’

‘I would have thought that the quickest way from the Eóganacht Locha Léin was through the mountains of the Luachra,’ she replied.

He hesitated a moment and then said: ‘I have told you the truth, that I did not encounter her before I crossed the Suir.’

Fidelma suddenly smiled and said pleasantly, ‘Then we shall delay you no longer, for I see a wagon approaching and that must be the smith you are expecting from Magh Méine.’

She turned her horse, with Eadulf following, while the merchant peered after them with an uneasy expression on his blotched face.

‘I think he spoke the truth in its main essentials,’ Eadulf commented, ‘except …’

‘Except it was probably a good thing that Aibell was carrying that knife with such a man as Ordan about,’ finished Fidelma with a grim expression. She turned and waved to Alchú and Gormán to follow them.

‘What now?’ asked Eadulf. ‘It looks as though the girl was telling the truth.’

‘About her arrival in Cashel? I agree, but we should make every check. I do not believe in coincidences. The name Liamuin continues to have significance. And we cannot deny the fact that she was in the very place where the assassin changed into his disguise.’

‘Coincidences sometimes happen,’ offered Eadulf.

‘It would be a fool who denies it,’ she replied evenly. ‘At the same time, assumption is never a good method of investigation.’

‘Then we should try to find this shepherd mentioned by Nessán.’

‘I think so. If he was the person who directed the girl to the hut, that would also confirm that part of her story. But there are other questions which remain.’

They found the shepherd, Spelán, in Rumann’s tavern, which was situated on the main square of the township. When Rumann pointed him out after Fidelma and Eadulf asked the inn-keeper to identify him, the man rose respectfully from his bench in a corner by the smouldering turf fire. Fidelma motioned for him to reseat himself.

‘I am told you have a ewe in bad health, Spelán?’ she began, taking a settle beside him.

The shepherd was nervous. ‘I did, lady.’

‘Did?’

‘She died this morning.’

‘I am sorry to hear it. What was wrong with her?’

‘The other day she began to have difficulties with breathing, shaking her head and sneezing. There was a discharge from her nose. When I went to see her this morning, she was dead. I fear it was the
cuilí biasta
– evil flies which sometimes choke the noses of sheep. She had probably picked them up grazing in the marsh areas.’

Fidelma made a sympathetic sound. It was not an uncommon occurrence among the sheep flocks.

‘So you were abroad early this morning? Before first light?’

‘That I was, lady.’

‘I understand you keep your flock on the western side of the Road of Rocks?’

The man started to look worried. He nodded in confirmation.

‘Did you meet with anyone on your way there this morning?’

‘It was dark,’ he began. ‘I was up beyond Della’s paddock when I saw that fat merchant, Ordan, on his wagon going along the road. I don’t think he saw me, as the wagon had just passed me when I emerged into the road. But I did see someone else.’

‘And who was that?’

‘A young girl.’

‘How did you know that, if it was dark?’

‘Didn’t I have a lantern?’

‘So what happened?’

‘She wanted a dry place to rest for she said she had been travelling all night. I told her there was a
bruden
in the town but she said that she wanted a barn or shed where she would not be disturbed. I thought it odd, as she did not appear to be one of those itinerants or beggars. I suggested Della’s barns which were nearby, but she asked if Della had a dog and when I said, yes, she asked if there was anywhere else. Then I remembered the old woodsman’s hut just a few yards into the forest here. I took her to the edge of the forest, for it skirts the Road of Rocks, and pointed the way. It was easy enough to find.’

‘And she went off in the darkness, just like that?’ Fidelma sounded incredulous.

Spelán chuckled. ‘Bless you, no. I gave her my lantern. I know the road well, see, and knew it would be dawn before long. The lass had the greater need of the lantern to guide her along the path to the hut. I told her to leave it there and I would pick it up later today. Did I do wrong?’

Fidelma paused thoughtfully for a moment and then spoke.

‘No, Spelán. And you parted company with her and went off to tend your ewe. Did you see the girl again?’

‘I did not. You don’t think that she took the lantern with her?’ he asked anxiously.

‘She did not,’ smiled Fidelma. ‘I think you will find it in the hut still.’ She rose and thanked him, before turning to Rumann and handing him a coin. ‘You may give Spelán a drink on me to help him with his loss.’

She and Eadulf left the inn with the thanks of the shepherd echoing after them.

As they rejoined Gormán and Alchú outside and mounted their horses, Eadulf declared, ‘Well, all we have learned is that the girl spoke the truth about how she came to the hut. So now do we let her go on her way?’