‘The attraction between a man and woman is one of the great mysteries of the world,’ Eadulf remarked.
The miller nodded. ‘Is it not an old saying that the three most incomprehensible things in the world are the labour of bees, the ebb and flow of the tide and the mind of a woman — begging your pardon, lady.’
‘So the wedding did not meet with the approval of Liamuin’s family?’
‘Everyone was unhappy. They all hated Escmug.’
‘But Escmug was your own brother.’
‘In every litter there is usually one who turns out bad.’
‘And that was Escmug? But he and Liamuin had a child.’
‘Aibell? A sad child, indeed. When Liamuin left Escmug, and not before time, the poor girl had to endure her father’s wrath until finally, she too disappeared.’
‘So what happened to Escmug?’
‘His body was found lodged in a beaver dam on the river.’
‘We have heard that he might have been murdered,’ Eadulf said.
Marban gave another of his eloquent shrugs. ‘Some thought that being the man he was, perhaps he was helped to depart to the Otherworld,’ he said. ‘If so, no one mourned his passing.’
‘The story we heard was that some people thought he had killed his wife,’ Eadulf put in.
The miller was silent.
‘You said both his wife and child were dead,’ Fidelma went on. ‘Do you know that as a fact? Did Escmug find and kill them?’
‘Escmug never did anything unless there was something to gain. Why kill his wife who had become a virtual slave in his household?’
‘Even the lowliest slave can rebel,’ Eadulf murmured.
‘Liamuin left him,’ said Marban, his voice hollow. ‘I heard sometime later that she had died.’
‘So she ran away, leaving her young daughter?’
‘Liamuin could not stand her life any more. She would have taken the child with her, but the opportunity did not arise. She had to seize her own chance, and so she fled.’
Fidelma gazed thoughtfully at the miller and an idea came to her.
‘Did she come here?’ she asked.
For a moment the miller stared at her as if he would deny it — and then he shrugged. ‘Where else would she go? Her brother had just been killed at Cnoc Áine and her father was serving in the Abbey of Mungairit. There was no one to protect her. Yes, she came here.’
‘Were you in love with her?’ This was Eadulf.
‘Perhaps I was. But she was never in love with me.’
‘When did she die? What happened? Did Escmug catch up with her?’
Even in the gloom, they saw a look of grief spread over the miller’s face. ‘As I say, she came here first. She could no longer bear life with Escmug but circumstances dictated that she had to leave young Aibell behind when she made her bid for freedom. When she arrived here, she and I both knew it would not be long before Escmug followed her. I suggested that she should seek refuge at a place in the hills further south. You see, I had a patron there who owned a fortified house just where the river rises. I felt she would be safe there as there was nothing to connect the place with Liamuin.’
‘Obviously, since she is dead, it was not safe,’ Eadulf commented.
‘But not for the reasons you are supposing,’ snapped Marban.
‘Tell us then, who was your patron?’
‘Menma. He was a bó-aire who sent his corn to me to be dried and ground. His rath lay on the side of the hills at what was called the Old Ridge, at the spot where one of the springs rises that come down to feed the river. That is An Mháigh. I was worried that Escmug was close behind her, so I took her to Menma myself and he promised me that he would protect her. When I returned here, I found Escmug. He was in a rage. He had a horse-whip in his hand and was threatening what he would do once he caught up with Liamuin. I denied all knowledge of anything to do with her, and eventually he returned to Dún Eochair Mháigh.’
‘And then?’
‘Some weeks passed.’ The miller sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Then I heard that Aibell had also disappeared. I hoped she had run away — but she never came here to me.’
‘Was nothing done to rescue the child and reunite her with her mother?’
‘I had discussed the matter with Liamuin once she was safe. Unfortunately, Escmug must have suspected such an idea, for he kept the child within sight almost the whole time.’
‘But you said she was dead?’
‘One day Escmug arrived here. He was smiling, calm and cold of temper. I feared the worst.’
‘Which was?’
‘I felt he had killed the girl. He then said that he knew I had helped to hide Liamuin. Someone had told him that she had been seen with me, and he said he was going to find her and make her pay. I had the choice to tell him where she was, or suffer the consequences. And then he boasted that he had taken his daughter Aibell and sold her in bondage to Fidaig. I protested that she was at the age of choice. He merely laughed. Said her bondage would be something for Liamuin to reflect on when he caught up with her.’ Marban suddenly fell silent. ‘I could not let him find her.’
Fidelma leaned slightly towards him.
‘Before you consider what you have to tell me, Marban, I should explain that in law there is what we recognise as colainnéraic — the existence of circumstances in which the killing of another person is justified and entails no penalty. This is when the killing occurs as an act of self-defence.’
The miller stared at her, his face pale.
‘You knew all along that I had killed Escmug?’ he said heavily. ‘Is that why you came here?’
‘We knew nothing, until you began to tell us. Did you kill Escmug and then put the body in a beaver dam?’
The miller shuddered violently. ‘I killed him right enough. And yes, it was in self-defence. When I refused to tell him where Liamuin was and said I would tell the local Brehon how he had placed his daughter in bondage, he went berserk. He grabbed an axe. There was a wooden stave nearby and I seized it. I caught him on the side of the head and he went down. It was a chance blow and he did not move afterwards. When I examined him, I found he was dead. I carried the body to the main river and heaved it in, thinking it would float downstream so that he would be found. But the current took him into the dam where his corpse lodged for a while. It was found sometime later.’
‘And no one helped you? You did this alone?’
‘It happened as I said. He was shouting and raving. His anger grew murderous as he realised that I had been helping Liamuin the whole time. No one else was involved.’
Fidelma nodded slowly. ‘So his death was in self-defence,’ she murmured.
‘But what of Liamuin?’ Eadulf wanted to know. ‘You said that she was dead?’
‘So I have been told.’
‘You must know more. Explain.’
‘All of this happened after the war against Cashel. With the defeat and death of our Prince, warriors of Cashel came to occupy certain places to ensure our people were pacified. It was not a good time for any of us.’
‘Go on,’ prompted Fidelma when he paused.
‘Menma told me that a warrior came to his rath and demanded to stay.’
‘Who was this warrior?’
‘I do not know. Only that he was of Cashel and wore the same golden circlet around his neck as you wear.’
‘Then he was a member of my brother’s bodyguard?’
‘Whoever he was, lady, my friend Menma was forced to give him hospitality. It seemed his task was to ensure there were no threatening disturbances in the foothills that border the territory of our lands with those of the Luachra.’
Even Eadulf had to chuckle at this. ‘One warrior?’
‘He was the commander of a troop that encamped in those hills between Sliabh Luachra and the Uí Fidgente territory. He would go and consult with them from time to time to ensure there were no rumblings of discontent while the peace negotiations were continuing.’