‘You’ll recall that a man and a woman stayed with Brother Ailgesach, the night the envoy was killed?’ Eadulf pointed out. ‘Maybe they thought that you and Torna were that couple.’
‘But they both were on horseback going north. Torna said he was looking for a boat to go south.’
‘Are we sure that you were not the intended victim?’ added Gormán. ‘After all, you are sister to the King of Cashel.’
Fidelma shook her head quickly. ‘They did not know who I was. They thought I was just his companion.’
‘When did they finally learn their mistake?’
‘I do not think it was until we reached the place where they left me.’
‘They did not find out before?’
‘I did come round a few times before then. Once I heard the man, the one whose hand had been injured, moaning and saying that he could not row much further in such strong currents. An argument ensued. The injured man wanted us thrown overboard to lessen the weight. The man in charge repeated that they had been paid to bring both man and woman. I heard something about picking up another rower who could be disposed of later.’
Eadulf grimaced ruefully. ‘They did that, right enough. They killed Enán, the poor ferryman’s son whom they persuaded to go along. We found his body in the storehouse with you last night: they had cut his throat. But what you say presents another mystery. Who would know that Torna was on the riverbank that night? Although there was moonlight, it was not that bright, so how did they find us in the dark? They must have known he was there.’
Fidelma looked grim. ‘You’ll be a Brehon yet, Eadulf,’ she said. ‘Well, it was darkness that saved my life. I came to again when I was being carried into what I now know to be the storehouse. The sacking was removed from my face. A lamp was lit and held over me, and someone swore violently. “This is not her! Anyway, you have handled this woman too roughly. She is near death.”’ I should be grateful that the speaker had little knowledge of the physician’s art. Another voice said: “Let’s slit her throat and be on our way.”’ Fidelma paused for a moment before continuing. ‘Then the man who seemed to be their leader said: “No need for that. She’ll be dead soon.” The sack was drawn back over my face and, indeed, I lay like one already dead. In fact, I passed out again. And then you came.’
Eadulf uttered a soft whistle. ‘Thank Providence that they did not learn their mistake. But so many questions! This web is as tangled as ever.’
‘We must resolve this mystery,’ Fidelma said quietly. ‘Why did they want Torna? Who was he and who was the woman they mistook me for? Were they looking for the couple who stayed with Ailgesach? Why is a wandering bard so important to be thus abducted? Where did they take him?’
‘The witness who saw the abductors arrive at the shed said a religieux was waiting for them. After two sacks, which contained you and Torna, were bundled into the storehouse, the four abductors came out with Torna and the religieux, and climbed into the boat. They had killed Enán and left you to die. They all went downriver again.’
‘They went south?’ queried Fidelma.
‘Yes. Perhaps the religieux was Biasta,’ suggested Gormán.
‘Logical thinking,’ Fidelma approved, ‘but it brings us nowhere near to solving this mystery.’
‘You said that Torna had a problem with the parents of the girl he eloped with,’ Gormán pointed out. ‘Can that help us? Perhaps there was some blood feud generated by this.’
‘You mean her parents hired these people to abduct him?’ Eadulf shook his head cynically.
‘It could happen,’ said Gormán. ‘Especially if she was some noble’s daughter.’
‘I thought your laws have covered such matters so that there is no recourse to vengeance?’ Eadulf queried. ‘Even if the girl objects to the elopement, if she is forced to cohabit with the man, then the abductor must pay the girl’s honour price. If the girl died during the abduction then the punishment is honour price and body price. But if the girl went with him willingly, a voluntary abduction or elopement, then the family of the girl are not so entitled.’
Fidelma seemed pleased with Eadulf. ‘That is true,’ she told him, and then added, ‘Well done. Your knowledge of our law increases by the day. Anyway, it does dispose of that argument.’
Gormán said moodily, ‘I can see nothing that fits together. The murdered envoy from Laigin, the matter of Brother Ailgesach and Biasta, now the abduction of a poet and a mysterious woman who should have been with him.’
‘We will have to form a plan-’ began Fidelma, but she was interrupted by the clanging of a bell. She glanced at the others in startled fashion.
Gobán rose. ‘Don’t worry; it is the bell outside my forge. If I am not there, customers ring for me.’
He left them and hurried to answer the summoning of the bell. Gormán also rose and followed the smith from the cabin. He was back within moments looking nervous.
‘Warriors,’ he muttered. ‘Four men on horseback are questioning the smith. One of them is a warrior who wears the colours of Laigin.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gobán returned a short time later, a worried expression on his features.
‘What is wrong?’ asked Eadulf as soon as he entered the cabin.
‘They were merchants from Laigin escorted by a warrior who was concerned about a loose shoe on his horse. I told him that I had not lit my forge fire to be able to attend to it. The fortress has its own smith, so I suggested that if they were going there, they could claim hospitality as travellers. The warrior, being a stranger, will doubtless get it mended for nothing and the shoe will hold out that far.’
‘You were a long time talking with them,’ observed Gormán suspiciously.
Gobán seemed too preoccupied to notice his tone. ‘They came with some strange news,’ he went on.
‘What news was this?’ asked Fidelma, for clearly it had impressed the smith.
‘They came from the territory of the Uí Fidgente. As they crossed the Valley of An Mháigh they saw several small churches and communities that had been laid waste.’
‘Did they give any further details?’ Fidelma remembered the reports of burnings and massacres that had been brought to Cashel by Abbot Ségdae.
‘They saw the ruins and devastation but encountered hardly anyone who could tell them what was happening. Those they did meet told of bandits, raiders from the western mountains.’
‘I have heard stories of these raiders before,’ Fidelma said.
‘And we were told by the ferryman that the place where we camped, the ruined church and tavern, had been burned down about a week ago in one such raid,’ Eadulf informed her. ‘Did these merchants know anything else?’
‘The strangest thing was that one religious they spoke to told them that the leader of the raiders was a woman. He described her as a wild hell-cat who led the raiders carrying what appeared to be a religious banner.’
Fidelma’s eyes widened. ‘A woman, you say?’
‘And what sort of religious banner?’ Eadulf wanted to know. ‘Why would they be attacking communities of other religious?’
‘I can only tell you what the merchants told me,’ Gobán replied. He then said: ‘Forgive me, lady, but I had better start making up the fire in the forge for I have work to do.’
After the smith had left, Gorman commented: ‘Probably it is the Uí Fidgente, causing trouble.’
Fidelma had to admit that this had been her own reaction when she had first heard of the raids from Abbot Ségdae. Now she responded: ‘I heard similar news before we left Cashel, and Dego was sent with a hundred warriors to discover more. The burnings and massacres were reported across the lands of the Uí Fidgente, so the attacks seemed to be aimed at them as much as anyone else. From what Abbot Ségdae said, there was no apparent reason for the wanton destruction.’