Scoth pushed forward.
‘That was Librén. It is true, sister. We were not even awake when they attacked. Their shouts and the lowing of our cattle disturbed us. We managed to barricade ourselves in here. But they did not assault us; they rode off with some cattle and set fire to one of the barns. It was barely light and we could hardly see what was going on.’
‘Who were they?’ demanded Fidelma. ‘Did you recognise them?’
Archú shook his head.
‘It was too dark. There was a great deal of shouting.’
‘How many raiders were there?’
‘I had the impression it was less than a dozen.’
‘What made them break off their attack?’
Archú frowned at Dubán’s sudden question.
‘Break off?’
‘I see only one barn burnt down,’ the warrior observed. ‘You have several cattle still in the pen there and I hear sheep and pigs. You are unharmed and so is your house. Obviously the raiders decided to break off their attack.’
The young man looked wonderingly at the warrior.
Fidelma gave Dubán a glance of appreciation for making a logical observation.
Scoth’s mouth compressed for a moment.
‘I wondered why they made no attempt to break into the farmhouse or even burn it down. It was as if they merely wanted to frighten us.’
‘Perhaps it was the shepherd, Librén,’ Archú suggested. ‘When he saw the flames of the barn from the hillside, he sounded his shepherd’s horn and came running down to help us.’
‘A brave man,’ muttered Eadulf.
‘A foolish man,’ corrected Dubán.
‘Yet still brave,’ affirmed Eadulf stubbornly.
‘It is thanks to him they only made off with two of the cattle,’ Scoth pointed out.
‘Two cattle? And all because a shepherd comes running to your help?’ Dubán was cynical.
‘It is true,’ insisted Archú. ‘When Librén sounded his horn, they herded the cattle before them and rode off.’
‘That is all? Two milch cows?’
Archú nodded.
‘Which path did they take?’ Eadulf asked.
Scoth immediately pointed down the valley in the direction of Muadnat’s farmlands.
‘Librén said they disappeared in that direction.’
‘That is the path that leads through the bogland, the Black Marsh itself. It only goes to the lands of Muadnat,’ Dubán explained uneasily.
‘It certainly leads nowhere else,’ Archú grimly assured him.
‘Where is this Librén, the shepherd?’ Fidelma asked.
Scoth turned and pointed to the southern hillside.
‘Librén tends his flocks above there. He came and stayed with us until dawn, in case the raiders came back. Then he borrowed one of our horses, for Archú did not want to leave me, and rode to the rath to tell you of the raid. He returned just half an hour ago and told us that you were on the way.’
‘Why didn’t he wait?’
‘He had neglected his flocks since this morning,’ Archú pointed out. ‘There is no need for him to stay now.’
Fidelma was looking around as if searching for something.
‘This Librén said that someone was killed. Who was killed and where is the body?’
Dubán clapped a hand to his forehead and groaned.
‘Fool that I am. I had forgotten.’ He turned to Archú. ‘Who was killed?’
Archú looked uncomfortable.
‘The body is over there, by the burnt-out barn. I do not know who it is. No one saw it happen. It was only when we were trying to douse the flames later that we discovered it.’
‘A man is killed on your farm during a raid and you know nothing about it?’ Dubán was still cynical. ‘Come, lad, if it is one of the attackers then you have nothing to fear in punishment. You were only acting in self-defence.’
Archú shook his head.
‘But truly, we did not kill anyone. We did not have the weapons. We barricaded ourselves in during the attack and saw nothing.Librén, also, was surprised and did not recognise the man.’
‘Let us examine this body,’ Fidelma urged, realising that there was nothing to be gained from talk.
One of Dubán’s men had already discovered the corpse. He pointed wordlessly to the ground as they approached.
The body was that of someone in their thirties. An ugly looking man with a scarred face and a bulbous nose, flattened as if by a blow. The eyes were dark, wide and staring. The clothes were bloodstained and covered in a curious fine white dust. His throat had been cut, almost severing the head from the neck. It reminded Fidelma of the way a goat or some other farm animal might be butchered for its meat. One thing was for certain, he had been killed in no skirmish but had been deliberately murdered. She looked at the wrists and saw the burn mark of ropes there. The man’s hands had been tied together until recently. She glanced at Dubán with raised eyebrows.
‘I have never seen this man in Araglin before,’ he interpreted the implied question correctly. ‘He is a stranger to this valley so far as I am aware.’
Fidelma thoughtfully rubbed her chin.
‘This gets more confusing. There is a raid. The raiders kill a strange captive or one of their own. They depart with only two milch cows and make no further attempt at pillage. Why?’
‘Easily explained if they were Muadnat’s men,’ observed Scoth resentfully.
‘Why do you think this body was a captive or one of their own men?’ asked Dubán, examining the corpse.
‘It seems a likely assumption,’ Fidelma responded. ‘He had his hands tied behind him until recently which might explain how his throat was cut without him putting up a struggle, for there are no other wounds. That he was a captive of the raiders or one of them is also obvious. He certainly did not appear out of thin air, did he?’
She suddenly bent down and examined the man’s forearms and hands with a frown.
‘What is it?’ asked Eadulf.
‘This man is one used to rough work. Look at the callouses on his hands; look at the scars and the dirt under his fingernails.’
She suddenly peered closely at the dead man’s face and turned to Eadulf.
‘Does this man remind you of anyone, Eadulf? Someone we have met in the last few days?’
Eadulf peered closely and then shook his head negatively.
Fidelma glanced up at Archú.
‘I am right in thinking that it has not rained since yesterday?’
The youth looked bewildered but nodded in agreement.
Fidelma returned to examining the clothes of the corpse carefully. Eadulf saw that Fidelma seemed interested in the fine layer of stone dust on the clothes of the man. Then she stood up.
‘Araglin is truly becoming a place of many mysteries,’ she observed softly. ‘Now I think we should ride to Muadnat’s farm.’
‘Are you saying Muadnat is behind this?’ Dubán asked with a frown.
‘It is logical to begin our questioning with him,’ Fidelma replied, ‘especially after what has happened so far.’
‘I suppose I agree.’ Dubán was almost reluctant. ‘If we were to assume that it was a band of raiders, then it seems odd that Archú’s farmstead was raided and Muadnat’s was not. Muadnat’s farmstead is more accessible and richer in cattle than Archú’s lands.’
Dubán ordered one of his men to stay behind to help Archú and to assist him in burying the body. The rest of them mounted up and began to trot back along the track towards Muadnat’s farmstead.
As they began to move Eadulf caught Fidelma’s eye and hung back at the end of the column of mounted warriors.
‘Is it wise that we get involved in this matter?’ he said softly so that only she heard.
‘Wise?’ She was surprised. ‘I thought we were involved.’
‘You have been sent to investigate the death of Eber, not toentangle yourself with some kind of feud between Archú and his cousin.’