Smoke in the Wind (11 page)

‘Your name is Idwal, isn’t it?’ she began gently.

The boy started back, staring at her with large frightened eyes. It soon became obvious to Fidelma that Idwal was not the brightest of youths. He was a slow-wit. Above all, he was very frightened.

‘I am not going to harm you, Idwal. There are just a few questions that I must ask you.’

The youth searched her features as if seeking reassurance. ‘They have hurt me,’ he whispered. ‘They tried to kill me.’

‘We are not going to hurt you, Idwal.’

The youth was undecided. ‘You are not one of us, the Cymry - the compatriots?’

‘I am a Gwyddel.’ She used the word which denoted an Irish person in the language of the Cymry.

Idwal glanced beyond her to Brother Meurig and Eadulf. Fidelma saw his swift examination of them.

‘Brother Meurig there is the
barnwr
come to hear the charges against you. He has asked me to put a few questions to you. You see, we want to help you. Brother Eadulf is my companion. We all want to help you.’

The youth gave a long sobbing cry. ‘They tried to kill me. Iorwerth and Iestyn and the others. They were angry with me. They tried to hang me on a tree.’

‘They were angry but they were very wrong to do what they did,’ said Fidelma. ‘However, we came along and stopped them. Do you remember that?’

Idwal cast a glance at Meurig and Eadulf from the corner of his eye before returning his gaze to her. ‘I remember,’ he agreed reluctantly. ‘Yes. I remember.’

‘Good. Now, you do understand that they are saying that you killed a girl called Mair? That you raped her and killed her. Do you understand that?’

Idwal began to shake his head rapidly. ‘No, no, no! I did not do it. I loved Mair. I would do anything for her . . .’

‘Mair’s father, Iorwerth, told you to keep away from her, didn’t he?’

The youth hung his head. ‘He did. He did not like me. None of them here in Llanwnda liked me.’ Idwal’s voice was suddenly flat, without emotion. He made a simple statement of fact.

‘Why wouldn’t they like you?’ Fidelma pressed.

‘Because I am poor, I suppose. Because I never knew my parents. Because they think that I am stupid.’

‘But you were born in this territory?’ Fidelma asked the question because in her society the community always looked after its weakest members and it was unusual that resentment was ever demonstrated against those without ability or means.

Idwal responded with a frown. ‘I don’t know where I was born. I was raised in Iolo’s house over at Garn Fechan. Iolo was a shepherd. He wasn’t my father. He never told me who my father was. When he was killed, his brother, Iestyn, kicked me off the land and I had to fend for myself.’

‘Iestyn?’ The interjection came from Eadulf. ‘Where have we heard that name?’

Fidelma glanced warningly at him. ‘Is Iestyn the same person who was one of those trying to punish you this evening?’

Idwal nodded quickly. ‘Iestyn has always hated me.’

‘You said Iolo was killed. How was that?’

‘Sea-raiders.’

‘Who were they?’

Idwal shrugged and shook his head.

‘Tell me what happened between you and Mair,’ went on Fidelma. ‘Why did you come to be accused of killing her?’

‘Mair didn’t treat me like the others. She was friendly towards me. She was nice.’

‘And you liked her?’

‘Of course.’

‘In what way did you like her?’

The youth looked puzzled by her question.

‘She was my friend,’ he asserted.

‘Nothing more?’

‘What more is there?’ The youth was ingenuous.

Fidelma compressed her lips as she gazed into the boy’s guileless eyes. ‘You were seen having a row with her a short time before her body was found.’

Idwal flushed and he dropped his gaze. ‘That’s my secret.’

‘It is not a secret, Idwal,’ she said sharply. ‘You were seen arguing with her and a short time later she was found dead. People might say that you could have killed her because of that argument.’

‘I promised her that I would not say.’

‘But she is dead,’ Fidelma pointed out.

‘My promise still holds. It was a personal thing between us.’

‘So personal that she is now dead?’

‘I did not kill her.’

‘What happened, then?’

The youth’s reply was guarded. ‘After I had said that I would not do what she wanted me to . . .’

Fidelma’s eyes narrowed quickly. ‘That was what the row was about? She asked you to do something and you refused?’

Idwal blinked in confusion. ‘Are you trying to trick me? I will not say what the row was about.’

‘I am trying to get to the truth of the matter. If you tell me the truth, then you have nothing to fear.’

‘I am telling the truth. I did not kill her.’

‘What did she ask you to do?’ pressed Fidelma relentlessly.

The youth hesitated. Then he gave a little sigh. ‘She wanted me to take a message for her, that’s all. And that’s all I can tell for I swore an oath not to tell anything more. I swore an oath to her; an oath to Mair. I will not break it.’

Fidelma sat back in contemplation. ‘It must have been some terrible secret that you would swear such an oath about taking a message. Why would your refusal create an argument?’

‘Because I did not want to take her message. I thought it was wrong,’ blurted Idwal.

‘Why was it wrong?’ demanded Fidelma.

‘I will not tell any more.’ Idwal was certainly a stubborn youth.

‘Tell me how you came to be standing over her dead body if you did not kill her?’ Fidelma decided to change tack. ‘Come on, Idwal, speak sharply now.’

The youth gestured helplessly with his shoulders, a difficult motion with his hands still bound behind him. ‘After the argument, I left her. It upset me. She was my friend and treated me nicely. But I could not do what she asked. I went to sit by myself and thought for a while. I felt that I should go to find her and apologise . . .’

‘How long did you sit on your own?’

‘I do not know. It seemed a long time.’

‘So you went back to find her. Did you?’

‘It was near to the very place where I had left her. She looked as though she was sleeping. At first, I thought she was.’ Idwal gave a sob.

‘Then you saw that she had blood on her?’ Brother Meurig suddenly intervened, causing Fidelma a moment of irritation.

‘She had no blood on her,’ replied the boy. ‘That’s why I thought she was asleep.’

Brother Meurig leant forward from his hay bale. ‘Yet the apothecary, according to Gwnda, said the girl had blood on her clothes,’ he pointed out, more to Fidelma than the boy.

‘Are you sure that there was no blood on her clothes, Idwal?’

The boy closed his eyes, as if trying to remember. ‘I saw none,’ he said emphatically.

Fidelma glanced at Brother Meurig.

Gwnda had said that the girl was a virgin who had been raped. If so, one would expect blood to make staining on the nether clothing, just as had been reported to them.

‘What did you do then?’ she prompted, deciding not to pursue the matter for the moment.

‘I knelt beside her to see what I could do. I realised that she was dead. I stood up. I felt . . .’ He paused, unable to express his feelings. ‘It was then that I heard angry shouting. People were coming though the bracken. I was scared. I started to run.’

‘Then?’

‘I remember being hit. I was on the ground and there was Gwnda standing over me with his cudgel. Then the others came and started to kick and beat me. I think I lost consciousness for a long time. I do not recall any more until I awoke here and I was bound.’

‘You cannot remember anything else?’

‘I do not know how long I was kept here. I know it was more than a day and a night. Buddog came and gave me water. She said she was sorry for me. I have not eaten for a long while. Then early this evening, Iestyn came with two others and dragged me out. They dragged me towards the tree in the square . . . then you came.’

Fidelma sat back in silence for a while, looking at the youth. She turned to Brother Meurig. The
barnwr
was frowning. He indicated with his head towards the door.

Fidelma turned back to the youth. ‘All you need do, Idwal, is tell the truth. Do you swear that you have told me the truth?’

Idwal raised his eyes to her. ‘I swear it by the living God, Sister. I swear it. I did not kill her . . . Mair was my friend. My good friend.’

‘And you still will not say what was the message that she wanted to entrust to you?’

‘I have taken an oath to her. I will keep the message a secret. I cannot break my oath.’

Fidelma patted him on the shoulder, rose and followed Brother Meurig and Eadulf to the door.

‘The boy has a ring of sincerity in his voice,’ Brother Meurig observed reluctantly in a quiet tone. ‘But his statement raises as many questions as it answers.’

‘I agree that he is speaking the truth so far as it goes,’ replied Fidelma.

‘Then, like me, you are not sure that he has spoken the whole truth?’

‘What message could the girl have wanted to entrust to him which would cause him to argue with her?’

‘Maybe he was lying about it?’ Eadulf suggested.

‘For what purpose? It is obvious that the youth is immature for his age. I doubt that one so simple could make up such a story,’ replied Fidelma.

‘It seems strange, though. What message could have been important enough for her to make him swear an oath not to mention it?’

They were silent for a moment and then Eadulf spoke thoughtfully. ‘The most puzzling thing is that Idwal claims there was no blood on the girl’s clothes. Gwnda and the apothecary have said that that was what denoted that she had been raped.’

‘That is something we will have to follow up with the apothecary himself. What was his name? Elisse?’ agreed Fidelma.

‘It is clear that Idwal is claiming that he was not the girl’s lover . . . not even a would-be lover,’ Brother Meurig observed. ‘However, the evidence from the apothecary does indicate rape. The position of the blood on her clothes would confirm it.’

‘I would also pursue the matter of this secret message,’ Eadulf suggested. ‘Often such messages are the means by which lovers communicate. Did Mair have such a lover? Was that the reason why Idwal refused to take her message?’

Fidelma stared at Eadulf in surprise for a moment and then her features broke into a smile of approval. ‘Sometimes, Eadulf, you have the ability to see the obvious while we are looking for something else.’

Brother Meurig was intrigued. ‘If the message was to a lover, then Idwal, who has admitted that he loved Mair, even though it seems we are not talking about a physical love, might have been stirred to violence through jealousy. Let us tax the boy immediately.’

Fidelma turned back into the stable. ‘Idwal, one further question arises. About the message--’

The youth’s features were set firmly. ‘I have told you that I will not say anything more.’

Fidelma’s voice was calming but assured. ‘Very well. I suppose, however, you refused to take it because you did not approve of Mair’s lover? Is that it?’

Idwal’s expression told her what she wanted to know.

‘You see, Idwal,’ she went on kindly, ‘truth has a habit of revealing itself. Who was this man?’

The youth shook his head. ‘I have given my oath.’

‘Your future might depend on your telling me the man’s name.’

‘I have given my oath.’

Fidelma was a shrewd judge of character and realised that Idwal would not be budged. ‘Very well, Idwal. So be it.’

She rejoined Brother Meurig and Eadulf at the door, shaking her head. ‘Eadulf was right. The youth insists on saying nothing but his face spoke the truth when I put it to him that the message was for Mair’s lover. However, he would not name him.’

‘There is one thing that we are overlooking,’ Brother Meurig pointed out. ‘About this unknown lover - we are talking only of a lover in emotional terms and not physical terms. The evidence confirms she was a virgin. It still gives the boy a motive. Revenge on the girl because she had rejected him for another.’

‘I think it is best to wait until morning before pursuing the matter further,’ Fidelma replied. ‘Tonight, Idwal is determined to keep his oath. He might have reflected on the matter by the morning.’

They left the stable but outside Brother Meurig paused. His face was troubled in the light of the lantern which he held. ‘The boy might be more cunning than we give him credit for. He might be misleading us.’

‘If he is not,’ replied Fidelma, ‘it might not only confirm the reason why Iestyn saw the girl and boy arguing, but, again in the boy’s favour, it might confirm that someone else had a motive for encompassing her death.’

Brother Meurig looked doubtful.

‘At this stage,’ Fidelma reassured him, ‘it is not so much a matter of getting the right answers as of asking the right questions of the right people. You heard Gwnda’s daughter, Elen, say that she was a friend of Mair’s? She was also concerned for Idwal. Perhaps she knows something? However, if I may offer advice, I would ensure that you question her without the presence of Gwnda. He did not seem at all happy at his daughter’s concern.’

Brother Meurig gave her an appreciative look. ‘And there is the servant Buddog,’ he added. ‘She was quite severe about Mair.’

‘I had not forgotten. Let us go and have a word with her before we retire.’

Buddog was in the kitchen. She was in the process of wringing the neck of a chicken. She glanced up dourly as they entered, her large hands giving the final quick twist to the bird’s long neck. Then she pushed it aside. Three more carcasses lay ready to be plucked for the next day’s meal.

‘I will show you to your rooms,’ she said, rising and wiping her hands on a cloth.