‘Strange, indeed,’ muttered Fidelma, pondering the information.
‘It was told at third hand,’ shrugged Gormán, ‘so perhaps it should not be taken as fact. Stories are embellished the longer they take in spreading.’
‘Perhaps,’ Fidelma said absently. ‘Even so, it is a strange tale to invent if untrue.’
The three walked slowly back to Gobán’s forge in sombre mood. The entrance was deserted, although the coals in the fire still burned red-hot. The back of the forge, leading to the man’s cabin, was dark and empty. Gormán called out to let the smith know that they had returned. There was no answer. He found the bell which the smith had placed for customers to call him when he was not in the forge, and rang it. There was still no answer to its summons, however.
‘He’ll be in the cabin,’ Eadulf suggested. ‘He won’t be far away with the fire still alight.’
Eadulf led the way out of the back door of the forge towards the cabin. Then he halted when he saw the smith standing before him. His back was pressed against the wall of the dwelling; his arms were spread out as if in a position of surrender, and he was staring at Eadulf in wide-eyed terror. Eadulf was about to demand what the matter was when he felt a prick against his neck and a voice hissed. ‘Throw down your weapons, if you want to live.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘Put up your sword, Enda!’ came Fidelma’s quiet voice.
Eadulf heard an audible gasp and swung round. Enda was in the act of lowering his sword in embarrassment. He was apologetic as he sheathed his weapon. ‘I would have recognised you a second later, friend Eadulf. You were in no danger. Your tonsure is hard to miss.’
Eadulf sniffed indignantly. ‘That is of little comfort to me.’
Enda said to Fidelma: ‘I am sorry, lady …’
‘It looks as though your apologies should be directed to Gobán.’ She smiled at the poor blacksmith, who was just beginning to relax, leaning against the wall.
‘My apologies, smith — these are my friends.’ Enda turned to explain to Fidelma. ‘I was about to ride into Durlus Éile to see if there was any trace of you, as you told me to do, when I recognised Aonbharr and the other horses at the back of the smithy. When the smith here refused to acknowledge your existence, claiming the horses were his, I thought that something must have happened to you. I decided to lie in wait.’
‘Gobán was merely protecting us,’ Fidelma explained. ‘Are you all right, Gobán?’
‘Your friend did not hurt me, lady,’ the smith offered, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘While he was none too gentle, it is understandable if he was concerned for your safety.’
‘Which I was,’ asserted Enda. ‘I have heard some wild stories along the way here. There was one panicking merchant on the road with tales of ravening hordes of bandits, raiding and burning.’
Fidelma sighed. ‘We have heard those stories also.’ She addressed the smith. ‘Let us trespass further on your hospitality, Gobán, and use your cabin while we discuss our plans. Will you be our watchdog at the forge and make sure we are not disturbed?’
Gobán gave his assent and Fidelma led her companions into his cabin.
‘Now,’ she said, finding a seat, ‘tell us your news first, Enda. You left us and returned to Cashel. Did you tell my brother what had happened?’
‘I did, lady. He was very concerned.’
‘Tell us, in your own words.’
‘After you left me at the tavern of Fedach Glas, it was not long before he returned with a plough horse, as he promised. I saddled up and rode for Cashel. You can imagine the laughter it provoked among the men when I rode in …’
Fidelma waved aside Enda’s tale of his humiliation.
‘I spoke immediately to the King and told him what had happened. He provided me with a good horse and I set out for Imleach, but soon it was fairly dark so I found a place to sleep at Ara’s Well and then I travelled on to Imleach at first light.’
‘Of course,’ Fidelma encouraged him. ‘And then?’
‘Abbot Ségdae was surprised to see me. I gave him the items you sent and he was very grateful. I then told him the story.’
‘And could he provide you with any information?’
‘He knew of Brother Ailgesach’s problem with alcohol. Ailgesach was from Durlus and had served in the Abbey of Biorra. He was skilled in tending the sick but could not qualify as a physician. He had come to Imleach and expressed his desire to help in nursing the sick and afflicted. Abbot Ségdae appointed him to go to Gleann na nGeilt, the Valley of Lunatics.’
‘It is the same story that we have heard here in Durlus from Bishop Daig,’ commented Eadulf.
‘Continue, Enda,’ encouraged Fidelma. ‘When was it that Brother Ailgesach was sent into the Glen of Lunatics?’
‘The abbot said it was a few years ago. Brother Ailgesach remained there until some weeks ago when he arrived in Imleach wishing to resign from the task. The abbot told me it was clear that he had been deeply affected by his years attending to the insane. He was much troubled and given to drowning his troubles with strong liquor. Now and then he would hallucinate and utter profanities. He would accost the brethren and accuse them of being in league with the Whore of Babylon. I am not sure who she is, lady, but I recall that these were the same words that he hurled at you in Fedach Glas’s tavern.’
‘They were exactly his words.’ It was Eadulf who confirmed this. ‘It is from the sacred writings of the Faith. The Whore of Babylon is a symbol of evil. Presumably something troubled Brother Ailgesach and was set off by his drunken fits.’
‘Abbot Ségdae said that he would exhibit instances of terror and cry out something like “Beware of the seventh trumpet!” And: “Blood begets blood!”’ went on Enda. ‘Abbot Ségdae believed that he would be a disruptive influence if he remained within the Abbey at Imleach, so he had decided to send Brother Ailgesach to Fraigh Dubh because Brother Tressach had recently died. He felt it was a small, fairly isolated chapel and the work would not be onerous. With luck, the place might help him to adjust and cure his drinking.’
‘And did the abbot know anything of Brother Biasta?’
‘The abbot had never heard of the name, which he felt was a curious one for a religious to have.’
Fidelma sighed deeply. ‘It was, more or less, what we have learned here. Were you able to pick up any information about Dego and his attempts to find the raiders we hear so much of?’
‘Dego and his warriors had already left Abbot Ségdae at Imleach. There was no news of him but, as I say, there is much gossip abroad about these bandits. Some even tell stories of riders coming through their villages bearing a religious banner carried by a woman.’
Fidelma sucked in her breath sharply. She turned to Eadulf.
‘The Whore of Babylon,’ she rapped out. ‘Do you recall her description from the old Scriptures?’
‘I think I recall the passage,’ he said. ‘It is mentioned in the Book of Revelation. She is described as a woman arrayed in purple with a scarlet cloak decked with …’ His voice trailed off.
‘With gold and precious gems,’ finished Gormán. ‘That is exactly how the merchant described the woman leading the raiders.’
As Enda was looking puzzled, Gormán quickly explained.
‘What can it mean?’ wondered Eadulf.
Fidelma thought for a moment and then shrugged. ‘It is Dego’s task to discover the meaning. We have more than enough tasks to concentrate on.’
‘So what is our next move, lady?’ asked Gormán.
‘We follow the same plan as we were about to embark on when Enda joined us. We try to trace Torna and his captors.’
‘Torna?’ Enda echoed.