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.
Brother Meurig replied by suggesting that food should be taken to the boy and his restriction eased.
‘Food I will take,’ replied the woman woodenly. ‘Ask Gwnda about his bonds.’
‘I shall,’ agreed Brother Meurig. ‘We were wondering what you meant when you said that Mair was deserving of death?’
Buddog’s features distorted with a little grimace. ‘I gave you my opinion,’ she said, volunteering no further information.
‘But on what is that opinion based?’ demanded Fidelma.
Buddog hesitated. Her lips thinned, and she pulled a disdainful grimace. ‘It is known throughout this township that the girl liked to flirt, to tease any man she thought she could provoke and make gain from.’
‘Are you saying that she was promiscuous?’ Fidelma asked.
‘I thought I had spoken plainly.’
‘A promiscuous virgin? It sounds like a contradiction in terms,’ muttered Brother Meurig.
‘Virgin?’ Buddog gave a harsh laugh.
‘You do not think she was a virgin?’
‘I only have an opinion,’ replied the servant. ‘I am not a physician.’
‘What men did she provoke?’ queried Fidelma. ‘You said that she would tease and provoke them.’
Buddog pursed her lips, perhaps regretting that she had made the comment. Then she said: ‘Why not ask Iestyn? I once saw him coming through the woods with a smile on his face. I heard that he had just seen Mair.’
‘When was this?’ demanded Brother Meurig.
‘A few days ago. . oh, the very day she met her death.’
‘And what were you doing in the woods at that time?’ Fidelma asked quickly.
‘I was picking mushrooms that morning for a meal I was preparing.’
‘Buddog!’ It was the sharp voice of Gwnda, who had appeared in the doorway. ‘What are you doing here chattering? Take our guests to their rooms immediately. Can’t you see that they are tired, woman?’
Buddog shot him a resentful glance but said nothing. Gwnda started to apologise to them but Brother Meurig cut him short.
‘It is we who were asking questions, Gwnda.’
The lord of Pen Caer frowned. ‘Then you should address your questions to me and not to my servants,’ he said stiffly.
‘That would be futile, for it is the answers of Buddog that we wanted,’ Fidelma said. She disliked the overbearing lord of Pen Caer, especially the way he seemed to treat the women of his household. ‘I think Brother Meurig does have a request for you.’
Thus prompted, Brother Meurig told him that he expected food to be taken to Idwal and that his bonds should be removed except for the ankle chain. Gwnda grunted and turned away. Brother Meurig took it as an affirmative response and did not pursue him.
‘A pity,’ the barnwr said a short time later as he, Fidelma and Eadulf stood in the corridor outside the rooms to which a now taciturn Buddog had shown them.
‘Perhaps you can resume your questions tomorrow?’ Fidelma suggested. ‘However, it might well be that Buddog was making conjectures about Iestyn. Certainly she seems to dislike Mair. Anyway, we should retire now.’
‘Thank you for allowing me to observe your method of interrogation,’ smiled Brother Meurig. ‘I can see why you have won your reputation.’ Then he hesitated and glanced towards Eadulf. ‘I mean, why you both share the reputation.’
Eadulf did not bother to respond to Meurig’s belated inclusion of him.
‘Eadulf and I need to make an early start for Llanpadern in the morning,’ said Fidelma.
‘Will you not stay and see this matter through before you go? I thought you were interested in this case?’ Brother Meurig was surprised.
Fidelma shook her head. ‘I am very interested, for I fear the youth is innocent and that something deeper lies behind this. But our commission from King Gwlyddien is to find out what happened at Llanpadern and to his son Brother Rhun. That is our main task. We will ride on to Llanpadern first thing tomorrow. But I will look forward to hearing your news on this matter when we return.’
Brother Meurig’s face softened a little. Eadulf realised that Fidelma’s announcement probably came as a relief to the barnwr. Fidelma’s natural authority seemed to have almost taken over his investigation. Nevertheless, the barnwr was gracious.
‘I am most grateful for the help given by Brother Eadulf and yourself. It appears that our methods of investigation are similar.’ He paused and then added almost reluctantly: ‘But won’t you need a guide in the morning — an interpreter?’
Fidelma smiled. ‘I don’t think so. If Llanpadern is just a few kilometres in the direction of the hill which you pointed out to me earlier, then it will not be difficult to find. And as for an interpreter, though it is a few years since I spoke the language of the Cymry, I find that I seem to have retained a fair portion of what I learnt.’ She smiled at Eadulf. ‘Eadulf, too, appears to understand enough to get by.’
‘I understand more than I speak,’ confirmed Eadulf.
Brother Meurig certainly appeared relieved that they were no longer calling on his service as guide and interpreter. ‘Then I shall remain here and continue the investigation.’
Fidelma smiled. ‘We shall look forward to hearing your resolution when we return after our inquiries at Llanpadern.’
Chapter Seven
It was a bright, crisp autumnal day, with a pale blue sky and no clouds to block the tepid warmth of the early morning sun. Fidelma and Eadulf had bidden farewell to Brother Meurig and to Gwnda, the lord of Pen Caer, and begun their journey south-west towards the distant peak of Carn Gelli. The countryside was a mixture of moorland and crags, and isolated farmland surrounded by wooded valleys into which gushing streams, too small to be called rivers, cascaded from the surrounding hills.
It was an ancient landscape with a variety of cairns, cromlechs, standing stones and abandoned hillforts. Fidelma had noticed that there were also a fair number of burial chambers where only chieftains or men and women of high rank would be laid to rest. It was a landscape that showed signs of a wealth of wild flowers amidst the gorse and various species of ferns and heather. At the moment there were only a few patches of white blossoms, such as shepherd’s purse and white deadnettle, which displayed any relief against the green. Generally the countryside was sinking into its drab, almost colourless winter appearance.
High above them, the occasional kestrel flew in lazy circles, keen eyes watching for prey among the dying brownish bracken and evergreen gorse. A flash of red moved quickly as a fox went dashing for cover, more out of habit than fear of a kestrel, for its size made it quite safe. It was field mice, voles and hatchlings that the bird of prey was seeking.
As they rode along the track, it was the first time that Fidelma and Eadulf had been alone for some days. Eadulf had been watching his companion keenly.
‘You are worried about the youth, Idwal, aren’t you?’ he said finally, breaking the silence.
She glanced at him and smiled briefly. ‘You have a discerning eye.’
‘You believe he is innocent?’
Fidelma pouted thoughtfully. ‘I believe that there are many questions to be answered.’