‘Iorwerth could not live with the fact that he had killed his own son,’ went on Fidelma. ‘Nor that his son, so he thought, had lusted after and killed his own sister.’
‘This shepherd, Iolo, the man who raised Idwal, was he the warrior of whom you spoke?’ queried Cathen. ‘Was Iolo the man with whom this unfortunate Efa took up after she had become pregnant with Iorwerth’s child?’
To everyone’s surprise, Fidelma shook her head. Instead, she turned to Iestyn. ‘Iolo was never a warrior, was he, Iestyn?’
The farmer glowered silently back at her.
‘There is surely no need to deny anything now, is there? There are people here who know that you were a warrior in your youth and that you were Iolo’s brother. I presume that Iolo took pity on the baby, thinking that it was your own child by Efa? He took Idwal to foster, and you gave him Efa’s chain. Was that how it happened?’
Iestyn said nothing.
‘You became too old to follow the profession of a warrior and came to farm at Pen Caer. Idwal was nothing to you except that he was a constant reminder of your past misdeeds. Every time you saw him you were reminded of Efa. I think that you killed Efa?’
The farmer raised hate-filled eyes.
‘You will never prove it, Gwyddel,’ he said between clenched teeth.
‘I don’t think I need to. Your current involvement with the plot at Llanpadern, to which I will come later, is crime enough for punishment. However, it would be good to clarify these matters. Your lack of denial is sufficient. When Iolo died, you found yourself inheriting his property and the first thing you did was throw Idwal out to fend for himself. The lad had to survive as an itinerant shepherd, remaining in the district as an unwitting thorn in your flesh.
‘When Idwal was charged with Mair’s murder, you saw your chance of getting rid of the boy’s accusing presence for good. You took a leading role in demanding vengeance, in stirring people up to such a pitch of hatred that they took the law into their own hands. Your own guilt was also your motivation for your part in his slaughter.’
‘I was not alone in that!’ cried Iestyn.
‘Indeed you were not. The guilt lies with everyone who had a hand in the crime of Idwal’s death. But the most tragic hand in this was that of Iorwerth, Idwal’s own blood father, and for that crime he has inflicted his own punishment on himself.’
‘Just a moment, Sister Fidelma,’ interrupted Cathen thoughtfully. ‘You have told us a tragic story, and it seems enough people here can verify its details. It is a dreadful and sorrowful tale about Idwal’s life and death. But you refer to his death as a crime. True enough. But what of the crimes of Mair’s death and Brother Meurig’s slaughter? Whatever Iestyn’s past misdeeds were, you do not appear to be accusing him of involvement in these deaths, nor have you exonerated Idwal.’
Fidelma bowed her head and smiled softly. ‘You are a sound judge, Prince Cathen. We have so far only set the scene and attempted to clear up a mist that has obscured the central action of this tragedy.’
She paused again.
‘Iorwerth wanted to believe the best of his daughter, Mair. He argued that she was still a virgin and accused Idwal of rape. Mair had already come to sexual maturity. She was known by her friends to be promiscuous and preferred the company of mature men. She had a lover.’
‘This is dangerous surmise. You cannot make such claims without evidence. .’ cautioned Cathen.
‘Oh, if need be I can call individual witnesses to back up my claims. Even Elen, daughter of Gwnda. Do you think it necessary at this stage?’
‘Very well. It is not necessary at this moment but be prepared to do so if you are challenged.’
‘I shall stand ready. Mair boasted to Elen, her close friend, that she had started an affair with a man who was older than her. On the morning that she was killed, she met Idwal in the forest. Idwal knew about her promiscuity. Idwal was a very moral young man and when Mair asked him to take a message to her elderly lover he refused. That was the cause of the argument which was witnessed by Iestyn as he passed them in the woods.
‘Iestyn witnessed the row and went rushing off to Iorwerth to stir things up, claiming that the disagreement was something more than it was. I will believe that Iestyn did not, perhaps, foresee that the event would result in Mair’s death, but when he found it did, it suited his plan well. He probably only wanted Idwal to be driven from the territory. With a murder charge, he saw a chance to remove him permanently.’
‘I am confused,’ interposed Cathen. ‘Are you saying that Idwal did or did not kill Mair?’
‘He did not kill her. Iestyn, hurrying to alert Iorwerth, passed someone else in the woods. He barely noticed that person, so intent was he on his errand of hate. Meanwhile, Idwal had refused to take the message to her lover. He had gone off in anger and left Mair alone. The killer then came upon Mair and Mair, in naivete, asked this person to take the message.’
‘Why naively?’ demanded Cathen.
‘Because the person she asked had been the mistress of Mair’s elderly lover for many years. She was now feeling cast aside while her lover found solace with this young girl. She already suspected Mair and hated her. To be asked to take a message to her lover from his new mistress was too much. In passion, she throttled Mair, throttled Mair with her powerful hands and killed her. Isn’t that how it happened, Buddog?’
Chapter Twenty-one
A din had arisen in the hall at Fidelma’s accusation. The noise rose while Prince Cathen and Cadell shouted for order and calm.
Buddog sat without expression. By not even a blink of the eyes did she register her feelings. There was no hysteria, no denial. Just a blankness on her face. It was as if she were no longer in her body.
Elen was sitting in her seat staring at Buddog with horror on her pale face. ‘But if. . if Buddog killed Mair, then. .’ She swung back to her father, sitting tense and pale and tight-lipped. ‘You and Mair were lovers!’ She screamed at him in disgust. ‘You and Mair-’
It took some moments before a semblance of order was brought to the hall again.
‘As the woman, Buddog, does not deny or confirm the charge, you may continue your arguments,’ Cathen instructed Fidelma.
‘Buddog had been brought to Gwnda’s house as a hostage as a young girl. Over the years Gwnda and Buddog had become lovers. Buddog developed a blinding love for him. I don’t know how his relationship started with Mair. Maybe it was because of Mair’s promiscuity. Maybe he was flattered at her attention.’
She paused when she realised that Gwnda was trying to speak.
‘Buddog was dear to me; I would have done anything to protect her. But Mair. . Mair was young and vital. She gave me strength. She reinvigorated me!’
Fidelma expressed satisfaction at his confession. ‘I began to suspect Buddog’s involvement in this affair on the first night I arrived here,’ she went on calmly. ‘The trouble was that it was not the mystery I had come to investigate so I left it to Brother Meurig, not realising the danger he would face if he began to unravel the threads which I had already seen.’
She paused for a moment before continuing.
‘Gwnda was in the forest that morning. It may have been entirely chance that he came across Buddog just after she had strangled Mair. Remember, Gwnda still cared for Buddog. He has just told you so himself. In those few moments he decided to attempt to cover up her guilt. He told Buddog to take the letter and return to Llanwnda and he would deal with things. After she had gone, Fate intervened. Idwal returned to find Mair and apologise to her. Gwnda hid himself. .’
Gwnda was groaning and nodding now. ‘I did not plan anything at first,’ he said. All his strength and authority seemed to have evaporated. He was an old man, hunched and frail. ‘I hid hoping not to be seen. Idwal came to the body and bent down. He could not believe she was dead. He tried to revive her. Then I heard the cries of the people coming. It was then that I knew what I should do.’