‘I hope that you will not put yourself in danger,’ Colgú said anxiously. ‘Are you sure that I do not need to increase the guard?’
‘I have told Enda to be vigilant. It was my fault that Beccan was killed for I had fully intended to make sure of a guard at that scaffolding. I just did not think his own partner in this affair would turn on him.’
Colgú stared at her in surprise. ‘So you know that Beccan had a partner?’
‘Oh yes,’ she replied enigmatically. ‘But I am only just beginning to work out the identity of that person.’
It seemed to Eadulf that they had been following the tracks of the three horses for a long time. However, the position of the pale sun in the sky told him that it was not even midday. Aidan rode in front, leaning across the shoulder of his horse from time to time, eyes on the ground to watch the path unfolding.
‘The tracks are still clear — three horses. The tracks are evenly spaced so they are not hurrying themselves.’
‘Where do you think they are heading?’ Eadulf asked, not for the first time.
‘South-east,’ replied Gormán. ‘Towards the River Siúr at any rate.’
‘I don’t suppose there is any chance of overtaking them?’
Gormán could not lie to him. ‘Let’s face it, friend Eadulf,’ he said. ‘Dego was attacked and your brother taken two whole days ago. Even if they make leisurely camp during the nights, then they are still well ahead of us. Our only hope is that they are making for a specific place. If they stop, then we shall overtake them.’
Eadulf fell silent. It had crossed his mind earlier to ask why they themselves were travelling at such an easy pace. Surely if they increased their speed, they would overtake their quarry all the sooner? The answer came to him almost immediately. He could even hear Fidelma explaining that to do so would tire the horses, and a tired horse when they might need its strength and mobility was no use to anyone.
They were heading towards a large wooded area and Eadulf knew the River Siúr must lie beyond it. They had been travelling along a track through this forest for some time. He barely registered the different trees that made the woodland almost impenetrable except for the small path that they were following. Every so often, Aidan paused to check the trail and then signalled them onwards.
It was while Eadulf was almost dozing, so tedious was the journey becoming, and the gentle jogging of his cob allowing him to rock back and forth. . that a sudden terrible scream shattered the air nearby. Then before the cry died away, it was followed by another.
At once, Gormán and Aidan had their swords in their hands, peering around them to identify the danger. Then, seeing nothing immediately threatening, Gormán made a motion for them to dismount, placing a finger on his lips. He gestured to Aidan who seemed to understand what he wanted, for the warrior took the reins of Gormán’s horse, while Gormán moved forward in a crouching position along the path ahead of them. It twisted and turned out of sight around a bend. He was not gone for long for he soon reappeared, but approached Eadulf and Aidan with his finger once more to his lips.
‘We are in luck,’ he whispered. ‘Those we pursue have made some permanent camp just around the bend in those trees. There seems to be an old disused cattle-pen there and a hut beside it. I presume that this is some hideout.’
The word he used was fochlach which Eadulf had not heard before, but supposed it meant a hiding place or den.
‘Was it Egric who cried out?’ he whispered back, fearing the worst.
‘He is a prisoner,’ confirmed the other. ‘Easy, friend,’ he warned as Eadulf began to move. ‘They are questioning him — and none too gently.’
Eadulf stiffened but made an effort to control his emotions. ‘What are we to do?’
‘Egric seems to be tied to an old cattle ring on the wall. There are two captors, no more. I don’t think we will have any trouble. They don’t look much like warriors. We’ll leave the horses here. Aidan,’ he hissed ‘you are good with a bow. Make your way to the far side of the cattle-pen. There is some high ground there, but plenty of cover from trees and bushes. You can see down into the pen. I will approach from this path. .’
‘I must come with you,’ Eadulf said.
Gormán was about to argue but saw the determined look on his face. ‘Very well, but keep behind me and in cover. I will call on the two men to surrender. Let us hope they do so. If they don’t, Aidan will take care of the one who offers an immediate danger. Understood?’
Aidan took his bow and quiver of arrows from his horse and slid with astonishing quiet and ease into the undergrowth in the direction Gormán indicated.
Gormán waited for a moment, estimating the time it would take for Aidan to get into position and then, unsheathing his sword, he motioned to Eadulf to follow, indicating that he should do so stealthily and quietly. As Gormán had said, it was not far before they rounded a bend which broadened into a clearing, in which there were the remains of a circular, drystone wall cattle-pen. The walls that came up to waist-level were crumbling and almost overgrown with moss and tufts of grasses. To one side was a hut, perhaps where the cattle-drover stayed when tending his herd.
Gormán reached out the flat of his hand, with a backward gesture to Eadulf to keep behind him.
There were two men standing upright in the enclosure. One of them had his sword in his hand and seemed to be staring down at something before him. Eadulf could not see what it was as it lay out of sight below the stone wall. Another man was taking a drink from an earthenware jug. There was no sign of Egric. Close by the hut, three horses were tethered. Smoke rose from a fire before the hut and other indications showed that the men had been encamped there some time.
Gormán glanced across the clearing to where the trees followed the rise of a small hillock. If was as if he were trying to see if Aidan was in place among the green foliage and bushes. His sharp eyes must have seen something that Eadulf could not, for he nodded to Eadulf, rose to his full height and cried: ‘Throw down your weapons! You are surrounded!’
The man with the flagon in his hand threw it away, staring in the direction of Gormán, and shouted to his companion: ‘Finish the bastard!’
The man with the sword was raising it as if to plunge it into something at his feet — but as he did so, he suddenly gave a coughing sound and fell forward. Eadulf just had time to see the arrow in the man’s back.
Gormán was running towards the cattle-pen, sword in hand, as the other man was turning to see what had happened to his companion, while at the same time trying to withdraw his own sword. Gormán took the wall in a gigantic leap. Eadulf was running after him. Gormán had a moment to regain his balance but it was too late to stop the first man thrusting with his sword at a figure that lay on the ground half underneath the body of the man with the arrow in his back. Then the killer wheeled round to defend himself, but the tip of Gormán’s sword had entered under the breastbone. As Gormán removed his weapon, the man gave a choking cry and fell forward.
Eadulf, with a cry of anguish, had recognised the figure on the ground. Egric lay with his back propped against the stone wall. His wrists were tied by rope to an iron cow-ring set in the stone. There was blood staining his garments, covering his face and arms. It was clear that he had suffered torture. The fingers of one hand were broken and bent. Eadulf knelt towards him and one glance was enough to assess his brother’s condition. He pulled the corpse of his erstwhile captor off his brother, drew his knife and severed the cords that bound Egric’s wrists. The young man slumped forward with a groan.
Eadulf gently lifted him back into a semi-sitting position, legs splayed out on the ground before him. Eadulf then drew out a lastar, containing water, and allowed it to dribble against his young brother’s mouth. Egric groaned and opened his eyes, trying to focus.