‘Not long.’
‘A few weeks?’ There was a tone of mockery in Fidelma’s voice. She disliked imprecise answers.
She noticed the servant’s lips tighten a little.
‘I have been in this household for twenty years.’
‘That is a long time. So you came here to work when you were a young girl, then?’
‘I came here as a hostage,’ replied the woman shortly. ‘I am of Ceredigion.’
They had reached the stable door. Buddog paused with her hand on the latch and turned to Brother Meurig.
‘You will need this lantern, Brother. I know the yard in the darkness so I can find my own way back.’
Brother Meurig took the lantern.
The woman hesitated and then said with a quiet intensity to the barnwr: ‘If the boy did kill Mair, then she was deserving of death!’
With that, she turned and became a shadow in the darkness.
Fidelma broke the surprised silence. ‘I think, Brother, you will have to ask Buddog to explain her views.’
Brother Meurig sighed softly. ‘Undoubtedly, Sister. She seemed rather vehement.’
The boy, Idwal, was chained in an empty stall. He strained away from them as they entered, moving into the furthest corner like some frightened animal. He could not move far for he was still bound with his hands behind him and had the chain around one ankle. Fidelma wrinkled her nose in disgust.
‘Does he have to be contained in this fashion?’ she demanded.
Brother Meurig did not support the idea of loosening his bonds. ‘If the boy is a killer, then there is no cause to release him in case he does further harm.’
‘If? And if he is not a killer?’ pressed Fidelma.
‘The evidence we have heard hardly supports that contention, ’ replied Brother Meurig in annoyance at having his opinion challenged.
‘We have only heard part of the evidence, so far,’ Fidelma reminded him.
Brother Meurig was impatient. They had been travelling all that day and he was tired. ‘Very well. I will have a word with Gwnda after we have finished.’
He moved forward but Idwal gave another animal-like cry and cowered back, turning his head away as if expecting a blow.
Fidelma laid a hand on Brother Meurig’s arm. ‘I would like, with your permission, to question him, Brother Meurig. I know I am here only to observe and this is stretching your generosity, but the boy might respond better to questions from me.’
Brother Meurig was about to object. He was beginning to feel that Fidelma might be interfering too much in his office, but he was also an intelligent man and realised that the boy might be more forthcoming to a woman. He indicated by a gesture that she might do so and seated himself on a nearby bale of hay. Eadulf took up a similar position. There was a three-legged stool, used for milking cows, nearby. Fidelma picked this up and went to sit near the boy.
‘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?’