‘Brother Eadulf and I have been friends, and friends alone, since we met at the council held at Hilda’s abbey in Northumbria. That is all.’
It was clear that Crón treated the assurance with some scepticism.
‘It is nice,’ she observed meaningfully, ‘to have such a friend.’
‘Speaking of friends,’ Fidelma returned slyly, ‘I must find Dubán.’
‘What is so important that you need speak with him so urgently?’ queried the tanist.
‘Have you heard of Gadra?’
Crón looked surprised.
‘Why do you wish to know about Gadra?’
‘So you do know him?’ pressed Fidelma eagerly.
‘Of course. I have not seen him since I was a tiny girl. I can just remember him. He lived at Teafa’s cabin for some years. But he went away again. He is a hermit. Nowadays the young ones think he is just a bogeyman. Because he is a hermit who vanished into the hills, some people use him as a means of scaring children into obedience.’
‘Do you know where Gadra may be found?’
Crón shook her head.
‘I doubt if he still lives.’ She shrugged. ‘But if he does then it would take a brave person to go in search of him for it was said he refused to acknowledge the Faith and consorted with evil.’
‘Consorted with evil?’
Crón nodded seriously.
‘He clung to the faith of our pagan ancestors and they say that this was why he withdrew into the vastness of the dark mountains.’
There was a movement behind Fidelma and she turned to see the middle-aged warrior enter self-consciously.
Dubán glanced from Fidelma to Crón quickly, trying to feign surprise at finding them together, and then raised a hand in salute to his tanist. Fidelma was aware that anyone who could act with such duplicity might well be able to be equally evasive in other matters.
‘The talk is of lack of success in your venture, Dubán.’ Crón greeted him with a slightly querulous voice as if she had not seen him previously that morning.
The big warrior grimaced, an expression which summed up the futility of his search.
‘We scoured the hillside for miles but there was no sign of the raiders. Two cows were driven off from the farmstead of Dioma. We followed the tracks as far as the borders of the Black Marsh but lost them in the forest.’
Crón was clearly troubled by this.
‘I cannot remember the last time when brigands were allowed to raid our valley with impunity. They must be dealt with. Our honour is at stake.’
‘It shall be done,’ muttered Dubán. ‘As soon as I have gathered a fresh band of warriors …’
‘It is futile now. Anyway, we have the legal hearing to consider. Sister Fidelma has suggested that she might sit with me. I have agreed. I have also told the sister that you will be able to help her with some information about old Gadra.’
Crón swung away and left the assembly hall leaving Dubán with an uncertain expression on his face.
‘What does she mean?’ he asked awkwardly after a moment or two. ‘About Gadra, that is?’
‘I am told you knew Gadra.’
‘Gadra the Hermit,’ Dubán acknowledged. ‘Yes, I did but that was twenty years ago. He is dead.’
Fidelma had a sinking feeling.
‘Are you sure?’
Dubán rubbed his chin reflectively.
‘Not sure. But I have not seen him since I left Araglin when I was young. He must be dead.’
Fidelma clung to her course of action.
‘Crón said she saw him when she was a young girl; that he came to stay with Teafa in the rath. If he were still alive, would you know where he might be found?’
Dubán indicated with a jerk of his head upwards.
‘Up in the mountains, to the south. There is a little valley where he used to dwell.’
‘Would you take Brother Eadulf and myself to where he might be found?’
Dubán looked confused.
‘After all this time. He is probably dead,’ he repeated.
‘But you don’t know for sure?’
‘No. But the journey will doubtless be wasted. It is nearly a day there and a day back.’
‘Will you take us?’
‘I have my duties …’
‘Crón seemed to indicate that she had no objections to your taking us.’ Fidelma felt that she was not distorting the truth. ‘Or is it that you have some other objections?’
‘But why would you want to see old Gadra? Even if he is still living, he will be an old man. What would he know that would be of help to your investigations?’
‘That is more my concern than yours, Dubán,’ she replied firmly.
Dubán was reluctant but finally said: ‘When would you want to leave?’
‘If the court reaches a conclusion soon, we could set out this very afternoon.’
Dubán tugged at his beard thoughtfully.
‘The journey will mean at least one overnight encampment, even if we do find Gadra,’ he repeated.
‘I am used to travel,’ Fidelma said pointedly.
Dubán spread his arms in resignation.
‘After the court reaches its conclusion then. If Gadra lives then we must respect his right to be a recluse. Only I will accompany you and the Saxon brother. No one else.’
‘It is agreed,’ Fidelma confirmed as she left the hall.
Outside, she came face to face with Archú’s sweetheart, Scoth. The young girl’s face lightened as she recognised Fidelma and she caught at both the hands of the religieuse.
‘Oh, sister! I prayed that you would not have left here. We stand in great need of your help.’
Fidelma was sympathetic.
‘So I have heard. Is Archú here to answer the new charges?’
‘He has gone to find accommodation for us.’ Scoth was tense and unhappy.
Fidelma quietly took the girl by the arm and guided her towards the guests’ hostel.
The young girl gave a painful smile.
‘Muadnat is like a battle scavenging crow, waiting for the right moment to swoop on us. We felt that our only hope was if you were still at the rath.’
‘Well, I am here.’
‘Thank God! Had Muadnat been a more careful man he would have discovered this fact. But he was so greedy to seize possession of the land that he came racing to the rath little realising that he could have to face your judgment again.’
Fidelma shook her head.
‘He doesn’t face my judgment. It is Crón, your tanist and chieftain-elect, who sits in judgment here.’ Scoth looked aghast and halted in mid-stride, turning to Fidelma.
‘But you must sit in judgment. You cannot abandon Archú,’ she wailed. ‘Crón will look after her own!’
‘I have not abandoned anyone, Scoth. Am I to presume, from what you say, that Muadnat has invented this charge of animal trespass?’
‘No, he has not.’
It was Archú who spoke and Fidelma turned to find the young man standing behind her.
Fidelma digested his admission.
‘Then I am sorry to see you in this plight, Archú,’ she replied sadly.
‘But you can intervene and dismiss the charge,’ Scoth insisted, desperation in her voice.
‘Scoth!’ Archú was sharp. ‘Sister Fidelma is bound by oath to the courts.’
They were standing outside of the guests’ hostel and Fidelma gestured for them to precede her inside. Eadulf came forward and greeted them with an exclamation of astonishment. Fidelma explained to him the news before turning to Archú.
‘Tell me the truth. You say that Muadnat has not made up this charge against you? That his claim is true?’
Archú was flushed. He gestured helplessly.
‘He is too cunning to make up such a charge.’
Fidelma was silent in thought for a moment.
‘Then you realise what this means?’
Archú was bitter.
‘It means that Muadnat, my dear cousin, will reclaim what momentarily belonged to me. He will take back my mother’s farmstead. I will be landless once more.’