Read Valley of the Shadow Online
Authors: Peter Tremayne
Tags: #_rt_yes, #Church History, #Fiction, #tpl, #_NB_Fixed, #Mystery, #Historical, #Clerical Sleuth, #Medieval Ireland
Valley of the Shadow (33 page)
‘Ailech is far from here,’ Colla pointed out in disbelief. ‘And what good would it do Mael Dúin if there was dissension in Muman?’
‘Apparently Mael Dúin wants to seize the thrones of all the northern kingdoms and then sit on the throne of Tara as High King. He wants to dominate all the five kingdoms. To do so, he knows that there is only one kingdom powerful enough to counter his ambitions.’
‘Muman?’ It was Murgal who made the logical conclusion.
‘Exactly so. The Eóghanacht of Cashel would not allow him to usurp the dignity of the High Kingship which is an honour bestowed not a power to be grabbed.’
‘How does it apply to the deaths of the young men? The so-called sacrifices?’ Colla now appeared fascinated by her story, following it carefully.
‘When Gleann Geis called for a representative of Cashel, of the Church of Imleach, to come here to ostensibly discuss the establishment of a church and school, the enemies of Muman had already planned that a simple cleric coming here would see the ritual slaughter and think it was a pagan ceremony. The pagan community of Gleann Geis would be blamed immediately. No cleric could ignore the affront to the Faith. It was believed that this cleric would race back to Cashel and that the king of Cashel and his bishop at Imleach would pronounce a Holy War of retribution on Gleann Geis. That they would attempt to annihilate the people of Gleann Geis as condign judgment.
‘This would provoke Gleann Geis’s neighbours to rise up to protect their kin against the aggression of Cashel and the one step would inevitably lead to another.’
‘And what prevented this great plan being fulfilled … if such a plan ever existed?’ Laisre sounded unconvinced.
‘I was the cleric but, also being a
dálaigh,
I believed in proof before action. It threw their plan out of synchronisation.’
dálaigh,
I believed in proof before action. It threw their plan out of synchronisation.’
‘A weak plan,’ observed Colla, ‘with too many ifs and buts.’
‘No. For the plan itself had adherents here in Gleann Geis, people who did not care how many of their clan were killed if it produced the right results because it was a step for them on the road to the greater power which Mael Dúin had promised them should he become High King.’
Murgal laughed outright in disbelief.
‘Are you claiming that some of us in Gleann Geis have been bribed by offers of power or riches from Mael Dúin of Ailech? Are you saying that we, or some of us, are working hand in glove with Mael Dúin of Ailech to destroy our own people in return for crumbs from his table?’
‘Precisely. Mael Dúin’s plan could not work without such an ally or allies. The subversion of Muman had to come from within if it stood any chance to work.’
‘You’ll have to prove that.’
Fidelma smiled at Murgal and she turned around the room, gazing on them each in turn as if attempting to read their thoughts. Finally she said: ‘That is what I now propose to do. I am able to do so thanks to something else which happened here which, as I have said, I had actually thought was related but which was not. Yet this unrelated matter led me to the guilty ally of Ailech.’
‘Who is it?’ demanded Colla, with tension.
‘Firstly, let me do some reconstruction of these events. The plan is
set in motion. Mael Dúin has sent a band of warriors with sacrificial hostages to enact the ritual which is to set in motion the wrath of Cashel and Imleach. So far so good. The ally in Gleann Geis has everything arranged. An invitation has been sent to Imleach to ensure that a cleric is on their way to Gleann Geis and will stumble across the ritual killings. Sentinels are set to watch for the arrival of the cleric so that Ailech’s warriors know where and when to perform their despicable crime.’
set in motion. Mael Dúin has sent a band of warriors with sacrificial hostages to enact the ritual which is to set in motion the wrath of Cashel and Imleach. So far so good. The ally in Gleann Geis has everything arranged. An invitation has been sent to Imleach to ensure that a cleric is on their way to Gleann Geis and will stumble across the ritual killings. Sentinels are set to watch for the arrival of the cleric so that Ailech’s warriors know where and when to perform their despicable crime.’
She paused for dramatic effect.
‘Now Mael Dúin also has a powerful ally in the north. Ultan, the bishop of Armagh, himself. He has promised to give aid to Mael Dúin in his bid for power. How much did Ultan know of the plan? I cannot say. But he sent his secretary and a young scribe to Gleann Geis. It might be that Brother Solin was sent in order to provide a so-called independent witness to Cashel’s awaited march on Gleann Geis who could then report the matter to the other provincial kings so that Armagh could call for the rest of the provincial kings to march on Cashel. Brother Solin however, was certainly in the plot even if Ultan was not.’
‘How do you know that?’ Murgal asked.
‘The fact was that Sechnassuch of Tara surmised that Mael Dúin was ambitious for power and suspected he was plotting something. He also discovered that Ultan was in an alliance with Mael Dúin but to what extent he did not know. So Sechnassuch asked some warriors to keep an eye on Ultan and they discovered Brother Solin’s involvement. They followed Solin and his young scribe Brother Dianach and saw them meet some of Mael Dúin’s warriors. These warriors were marching thirty-three hostages towards Gleann Geis. Thirty-three,’ she added carefully for effect. After a pause she continued.
‘The warriors of Sechnassuch witnessed a woman meet with the men of Ailech and with Brother Solin and Dianach at that rendezvous. When one of the prisoners escaped, it was this woman who rode out and hunted him down. The woman escorted Solin and his young scribe to the ravine entrance of Gleann Geis.’
‘But Solin and Dianach came into Gleann Geis alone,’ interrupted Orla, with a flushed face. ‘Any of our guards at the ravine will tell you that.’
‘I will not argue,’ Fidelma replied evenly, ‘for you are correct. Brother Solin and young Dianach entered Gleann Geis alone … having left the woman. She showed two of Ailech’s warriors the path which the Cashel cleric was likely to come by, the spot where the bodies must be laid out. Then she entered the valley by another
way she knew, the secret path along the river where Artgal’s body was found.’
way she knew, the secret path along the river where Artgal’s body was found.’
Orla was about to say something when her husband intervened.
‘You say these warriors of Sechnassuch followed these people here? Where are they? What proof do we have of what you say?’
‘You ought to have deduced that the warriors who have secured this ráth are the same men. Ibor of Muirthemne is their leader and not a horse dealer. Ibor is commander of the Craobh Rígh of Ulaidh.’
Ibor took a step forward and bowed stiffly towards Laisre.
‘At your command, chieftain of Gleann Geis,’ he said formally but with humour in his voice.
‘Not my command,’ replied Laisre with distaste. ‘Get on with this tedious tale, Fidelma.’
‘Mael Dúin’s men and their hostages approached Gleann Geis. The men from Ailech, for I will not grace them with the term “warriors” as they were no more than butchers, were watching for the cleric from Cashel. In other words they were watching for me. As soon as Eadulf and I had been spotted, the ritual slaughter began. The bodies were placed in position for me to find. The rest was going to be up to me.
‘I hindered their plan, however, because I did not flee in horror from the spot to raise Cashel’s wrath against Gleann Geis and plunge Muman into civil war.’
‘Yes, yes, yes! You have made your point, Fidelma of Cashel,’ Murgal said hurriedly. ‘But the fact is that once you knew of this matter, it provided you with the best motive for killing Solin. Better than anyone here.’
‘Anyone except the killer. The fact is, I did not know about this plot at the time of Solin’s death nor his involvement in it. The fact of his involvement was only later revealed to me by Ibor of Muirthemne. That was when I realised there were two different affairs taking place. The barbarous, to use Laisre’s well-chosen word, plot against Muman and a simple murder … though murder is never simple.’
She paused and shrugged.
‘Before I go further I should present the evidence of who in Gleann Geis was involved with the terrible plot of the king of Ailech. I would remind you of the woman who met Mael Dúin’s men. Ibor and his warriors saw her …’
Fidelma turned directly to Orla.
‘The person was a woman, a woman of commanding appearance.’
Orla suppressed a cry of rage.
‘Do you see what she is doing? This is the second time that she has accused me of murder. Not content with claiming that I killed Solin of Armagh, she would now accuse me of a heinous crime against my people. I shall destroy you for this, Fidelma of Cashel …’
She tugged out a knife from her belt and made to spring forward.
Ibor had moved towards her but Colla already stood in her path, placing himself defensively in front of his wife. He reached forward and took the knife gently but firmly from her hand.
‘This is no answer, Orla,’ he said gruffly. ‘No harm will come to you while I defend you.’ He rounded on Fidelma, his eyes blazing in anger. ‘You will have me to deal with,
dálaigh,’
he told her menacingly. ‘You will not escape the penalty for your false accusations against my wife.’
dálaigh,’
he told her menacingly. ‘You will not escape the penalty for your false accusations against my wife.’
Fidelma spread her arms nonchalantly.
‘So far, I do not recall having made any accusations, false or otherwise. I am simply stating facts. You will know when I have made accusations.’
Colla grew bewildered, he took a step forward but Ibor touched him lightly on the arm with his sword point and shook his head, reaching out a hand for Orla’s dagger. Automatically, Colla handed it to him without thinking or protesting. Ibor then motioned him to resume his place.
‘Let us return to what became a weak link in this terrible tragic chain. Brother Solin of Armagh. Brother Solin was a man of ambition. He was ambitious and sly, a worthy plotter in this affair. But he had a weakness. He was, in a word, a lecher. He made a lewd suggestion to you, didn’t he, Orla?’
The wife of the tanist’s face went crimson.
‘I could take care of myself,’ she muttered, ‘especially with such a man.’
‘Indeed, you could. You hit him once.’
‘I dealt with him,’ replied Orla softly. ‘He did not lay a hand on me. He just made a lewd suggestion. A thing he swiftly regretted. He learnt his lesson.’
‘No, he didn’t,’ contradicted Fidelma. ‘He was an incurable lecher. He lusted after someone else. Someone else not only slapped him but threw wine over him. You will recall, Orla, that I asked if you had thrown wine over Solin?’
Orla was still suspicious.
‘I told you I did not and I did not.’
‘True. You see, there is another attractive woman in the ráth,
isn’t there, Murgal? In fact, a woman who has some resemblance to Orla, tall and with a commanding appearance.’
isn’t there, Murgal? In fact, a woman who has some resemblance to Orla, tall and with a commanding appearance.’
The Druid frowned, trying to understand her path of thought.
‘You found out that she was unappreciative of your own advances, didn’t you? At the feast, Marga the apothecary slapped you across the face.’
Murgal blinked with embarrassment.
‘Everyone saw it,’ he muttered uncomfortably. ‘Why should I deny it? But I do not understand where you are leading us.’
Fidelma now faced Marga. The apothecary’s face was an interesting study of emotions.
‘Brother Solin had not only made a lewd suggestion to you … he came to your chambers and tried to force himself on you.’
Marga raised her chin aggressively.
‘I threw wine over him to quell his ardour. I slapped him. He did not bother me again. I did not kill the man.’
‘But he had made advances to you, Marga,’ insisted Fidelma quietly. ‘And for that reason Brother Solin was murdered.’
There was a sudden quiet in the chamber broken only by a sob of denial from the apothecary. Everyone was staring at Marga. The pudgy figure of Cruinn moved forward and put an arm around the girl.
‘Are you telling us that Marga killed Solin?’ gasped Murgal.
‘No,’ Fidelma replied immediately. ‘What I said was that Solin’s attack on Marga was the triggering point for his murder.’
‘Are you also claiming now that it was not Orla but Marga whom you saw at the stables?’ pressed Colla.
Fidelma shook her head negatively.
‘It was someone who looked exactly like Orla, and that misled me. They were clad in a cloak and hood so that I saw only the top part of their face as the light fell on them.’
She turned to Laisre.
‘It was not until I saw the top part of your face above the wooden screen last night, Laisre, in just such a light, that I realised the mistake I had made. It was you, Laisre of Gleann Geis, who came out of the stable, not your twin sister, Orla.’
Laisre sat back in his chair as if he had been struck a blow. He stared in open-mouthed dismay.
There was no mercy in Fidelma’s eyes as she made her accusation.
He swallowed and then, curiously, the chieftain of Gleann Geis seemed to hunch in his chair and throw out his hands in a curious gesture halfway between defence and surrender.
‘I will not deny that you saw me,’ he quietly confessed to an audible gasp of astonishment from those assembled. ‘What I will deny is that I was the one who killed Solin of Armagh.’
They waited for Fidelma to make a further accusation but she merely turned away and said: ‘I know that you did not kill him. Even if Brother Solin had raped Marga, whom you profess love for, you would have tried to keep him alive because it was in your best interests to do so, wasn’t it?’
Laisre did not reply. He licked his dry lips, staring in fascination at her as a rabbit might look at a fox before the moment of death.
‘You went to the stable that night because you had an assignation with Brother Solin of Armagh, didn’t you?’
‘I went there to meet him,’ Laisre agreed quietly.
‘But someone else was there before you.’
‘I went into the stable from the side door. Solin was already on the floor having been stabbed. I immediately left when I saw that he was dying. I admit that you saw me leave the stable.’
‘The mistake I made was thinking that you were your twin sister because you were so well cloaked and disguised that all I saw was the top of your face. No wonder you grew so angry when I accused Orla. Your anger was from fear; you were afraid for yourself. You were afraid that I would eventually realise my mistake. Your fear was what made me suspicious of you for you suddenly switched from friendship to hatred and that was very marked. You were so afraid that, when you heard from Rudgal that I had appointed Eadulf here as my Brehon, you pushed a loose stone from the parapet of the ráth on him as
he was walking underneath. God be thanked that you did not kill him.’
he was walking underneath. God be thanked that you did not kill him.’
Eadulf swallowed hard as he recalled the incident.
‘So it was you?’ Eadulf focussed on Laisre for a moment before turning quickly to Fidelma. ‘But how did you know that it was Laisre, you weren’t there?’
‘Rudgal told you who was walking along the wall at that time. Once Laisre was connected with other parts of the puzzle his role became obvious. Do you deny it was you, Laisre?’
Laisre remained silent.
‘Now, do you want to tell us why you chose to meet Brother Solin that night in the stable?’
The chieftain of Gleann Geis continued to sit as if he had been carved from stone.
‘Then I will do so,’ continued Fidelma, after he made no reply. ‘You and he were fellow plotters, or allies, if you like. You were the one who was in league with Mael Dúin of Ailech. You took and destroyed the incriminating vellum message from Ailech. Is that not so?’
Laisre laughed, perhaps a little too hollowly.
‘Are you saying that I would betray my own people? That I would sacrifice them to gain personal power?’
‘That is precisely what I am saying. You need not deny it. It occurred to me during that first council meeting, when you were supposed to negotiate with me, that it had been you who had made the decision to send for a religious to come here. I learnt that most of your council had been in opposition to that decision which you had made quite arbitrarily. Now, why would you, who still clung to the old faith, and who, according to Christians like Rudgal there, was so obstinate about recognition of the Church here, suddenly go against the wishes of your council to send such an invitation? The answer becomes obvious. You had to send the invitation to ensure a cleric came here to see the ritual slaughter. No other person at Gleann Geis could have had the authority to make that decision.
‘I was confused when I realised that you stood alone against Colla and Murgal and your sister as well as other members of the council in this matter. Why were you putting your chieftainship in jeopardy by refusing to accept their will in council? The reason was because you had your sights on other power. Mael Dúin had obviously promised you better things than the chieftainship of Gleann Geis.’
Colla, Murgal and Orla were staring at Laisre in horror as they began to follow the irrevocable logic of her accusation.
Laisre’s features reformed in an expression of defiance; almost contempt.
Laisre’s features reformed in an expression of defiance; almost contempt.
‘You would have destroyed Gleann Geis for ambition?’ asked Murgal amazed. ‘Deny it and we will believe you. You are our chieftain.’
‘You are right. I am your chieftain.’ Laisre rose suddenly, his voice stentorian. ‘Let us make this day ours. There are only a few of them if we act together. Mael Dúin will still succeed with his plan in spite of this woman. Join me, if you want to be on the winning side. Declare for Ailech against Cashel. Take hold of your destiny.’
Colla stood facing Laisre, his face white and strained with disbelief.
‘I will take hold of the only destiny that honour now demands,’ he said quietly. ‘You are no longer chieftain of Gleann Geis and shame is your portion for that which you have tried to do to them.’
Laisre was momentarily angry.
‘Then you will have to live with your shame in denying your lawful chieftain!’
Even before he had finished speaking he had sprung forward, taking a dagger from his belt. Before anyone could move he had dragged young Esnad from her chair, drawing her in front of him as a shield, placing the blade of the dagger across her throat. She screamed but the pressure of the sharp blade caused the cry to be stifled. A thin line of blood showed on the whiteness of her throat. The girl’s eyes were wide and staring in fear. Laisre began to back towards the door of the chamber.
‘Stay still if you do not wish to see this girl killed,’ he called as Ibor and a couple of his warriors began automatically to move towards them.
Orla screamed sharply.
‘She is your niece, Laisre. She is my daughter! Your own flesh and blood!’
‘Keep back,’ warned the chieftain. ‘I am going to leave this ráth in safety. Do not think I will hesitate to use this dagger. The bitch from Cashel will tell you that I was prepared to sacrifice the people of this valley to ensure my ambition and I shall not hesitate to sacrifice even this indolent child – flesh of my flesh or not.’
Marga then started forward towards him with a joyful cry.
‘I am coming with you, Laisre.’
Laisre gave her a cynical smile.
‘I cannot have you as well as my hostage delay me now. I must
travel alone. Fend for yourself until I return here with Mael Dúin’s victorious army.’
travel alone. Fend for yourself until I return here with Mael Dúin’s victorious army.’
The girl stepped back as if she had been slapped in the face.
‘But … you promised … after all we have been through … After what I have done for you.’ Her voice became inarticulate as she understood his rejection of her.
‘Circumstances alter cases,’ the chieftain replied easily, his eyes still warily watching the warriors of Ibor. ‘Clear the way. The girl dies if anyone tries to follow.’
Orla was almost in hysterics. Colla tried to comfort her.
Fidelma, scrutinising him, realised that the chieftain of Gleann Geis was totally insane. She also realised that Esnad would be discarded as soon as he secured a fast horse and reached beyond the gates of the ráth. Not even his own niece meant anything more to him other than a means of gaining what he coveted. Power was his god. Power was a desolating pestilence polluting everything it touched.
‘He will do it,’ she warned Ibor who was still edging slowly forward. ‘Do not attempt to detain him.’
Ibor halted, accepting that she was right, and ground his sword, calling on his men to do likewise.
The warriors of Ibor halted and looked helplessly at their leader for guidance. Ibor simply rested his sword point on the ground before him and gave a sigh.
Laisre grinned triumphantly.
‘I am glad that you are so sensible, Fidelma of Cashel. Now, Marga, open the door for me. Quickly!’
Marga was still standing in shocked disbelief at Laisre as if she could not believe her abandonment by her erstwhile lover.
‘Move!’ yelled Laisre in anger. ‘Do as I say!’
Orla turned tear-stained eyes to the apothecary.
‘For the sake of my daughter, Marga,’ she pleaded. ‘Open the door for him.’
It was the rotund Cruinn who took a pace forward.
‘I’ll open the door for him, lady,’ she offered.
Laisre glanced towards the portly woman.
‘Do so then. Quickly!’
The hostel keeper, her face set sternly, moved to the door. Then she turned swiftly.
Abruptly Laisre stiffened. His face contorted. The dagger blade fell away from Esnad’s throat as his grip loosened. Sensing his slackening grasp, the young girl broke away and ran sobbing into the arms of her mother. The chieftain of Gleann Geis stood swaying
for a moment. It seemed as though he had suddenly acquired a red necklet. The dagger finally dropped from his nerveless fingers and he fell face forward on to the council chamber floor. Blood began to pump from his severed artery on to its boards.
for a moment. It seemed as though he had suddenly acquired a red necklet. The dagger finally dropped from his nerveless fingers and he fell face forward on to the council chamber floor. Blood began to pump from his severed artery on to its boards.
Marga let out a series of long, shuddering sobs.
‘He was going to betray me,’ she whispered almost in disbelief.
‘I know, I know.’ Cruinn gazed at her in sympathy. She was still standing before the door, behind Laisre’s body. There was a large knife in her hand, still stained with the chieftain’s blood.
Ibor ran forward and bent down, feeling for Laisre’s pulse. There was no need. It was obvious that the chieftain was dead. He glanced up at Fidelma and shook his head. Then he slowly stood up and removed the knife from Cruinn’s limp hand.
Cruinn turned away and, taking Marga by the arm, led her to a seat.
Colla had his arm around Orla who was clutching at Esnad. The young girl was shivering with shock at what had happened.
Only Murgal seemed in total control and he was regarding Fidelma with restrained emotion.
‘Truly, there is much barbarism here. Was he also responsible for Dianach’s death … ?’
‘In a roundabout way,’ Fidelma confirmed. ‘Brother Dianach knew that Laisre was in the plot with his master, Solin of Armagh. Of course, Dianach was also involved but he thought that Solin’s cause was just, not realising just how corrupt and corrupting it was. He was a mere servant of his master. In many ways he was a naive young man. Laisre went to Dianach after I was incarcerated. He knew I was innocent and was afraid that if I was discovered to be so, then suspicion would come his way. Orla could prove her innocence through Colla and eventually I would realise what I had seen. The fact that Orla and Laisre were twins would eventually lead me to him. Laisre felt that he had to ensure I was found guilty. So he instructed Dianach to purchase the cows from Nemon as a bribe for Artgal to maintain his story about me; to make certain that I was blamed.’
‘To escape from his guilt? But why did he kill Solin in the first place?’ Murgal was puzzled.
Fidelma shook her head quickly.
‘It was not Laisre who killed Brother Solin. You forget that Solin was his ally. Without Solin the plot would not work.’
Murgal was totally bewildered.
‘But I thought … ?’
‘I was not lying when I told Laisre that I knew he had not
killed Brother Solin. Laisre only wanted to ensure that I was made the scapegoat because he knew who the real culprit was. The trouble was that Brother Dianach, once I was released, had brought the attention of the real killer on himself. The real killer mistakenly thought that Dianach and Artgal had somehow become a danger to them. The killer was waiting for Dianach and Artgal at Artgal’s farmstead after the farce of my trial. The killer had prepared a poisoned drink for both Artgal and Dianach, to stop them speaking further. But it was a slow-acting poison. It gave the killer time to send Artgal out of the valley on some pretext, perhaps to escape punishment. But the main purpose was to have Artgal disappear. The killer told him to leave Gleann Geis by the second route along the river path, through the caves, knowing that the poison would eventually act and that Artgal would never come out of the caves alive.
killed Brother Solin. Laisre only wanted to ensure that I was made the scapegoat because he knew who the real culprit was. The trouble was that Brother Dianach, once I was released, had brought the attention of the real killer on himself. The real killer mistakenly thought that Dianach and Artgal had somehow become a danger to them. The killer was waiting for Dianach and Artgal at Artgal’s farmstead after the farce of my trial. The killer had prepared a poisoned drink for both Artgal and Dianach, to stop them speaking further. But it was a slow-acting poison. It gave the killer time to send Artgal out of the valley on some pretext, perhaps to escape punishment. But the main purpose was to have Artgal disappear. The killer told him to leave Gleann Geis by the second route along the river path, through the caves, knowing that the poison would eventually act and that Artgal would never come out of the caves alive.
‘The killer was then left alone with Dianach, waiting for the poison to work. It was obvious, by the way, why Dianach had to be killed. But, as I say, the poison was slow working. The killer suddenly saw Rudgal, Eadulf and myself approaching the farmstead which Artgal had recently left. There was only one thing to do. Pretending to take Dianach to a hiding place, pretending that we intended him harm, the killer took the opportunity to cut his throat just as he was bending down to crawl into a shed.’
Murgal was following her argument keenly, nodding as she swiftly made her points.
‘I see no fault with this logic. All right. It brings us back to the identity of the killer. From what you have said – it can be only Marga.’
Marga was even beyond reacting. Her head was still bent with the shock of her rejection by Laisre. Fidelma surprised them all with a negative gesture.
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