It was some moments before she returned.
Fidelma, holding the lamp high, entered the foul smelling barn and peered about. The floor was similarly flagged with stones. They seemed firm enough but then Fidelma noticed that in a corner of the straw covered floor there was a raised area of planking. Scraping the wet straw away with her foot she discovered it was a trapdoor. Bolts held it down to the floor.
‘This must be the entrance,’ she observed in satisfaction. ‘Hold this lamp, Scoth. Give me a hand, Archú. Let us clear this area and open the trapdoor.’
It took them a while before the large wooden square was unbolted and raised back against one wall. Below, as she had guessed there might be, was a flight of rough hewn stone steps leading downwards. The man-made cavern was lined with dry stone walling surmounted by large lintels forming the roof.
Fidelma took the lantern from Scoth and descended without a word. The steps led into a main passage, too low to stand up in but not so low that one would have to crouch on all fours. As Archú had said, in olden times these places were called uaimh talamh, an underground cave in which food was placed for storage to be used in hard times. The main passage was called a ‘creep way’ from which little chambers led off. The place smelled vile and its lack of use was certainly evident.
Fidelma did not have to go far to see what she had come for. She was expecting something but was still not quite prepared for the body which revealed itself in the light of her lamp.
It was Dignait. Her throat was cut. It needed no expert to see that. The wound was still red and gaping, even though the blood was congealing. Dignait had been dead for some hours. Fidelma forced herself to examine the wound carefully. It was but a single wound caused by a sharp implement almost severing the head from the neck. She had seen this type of wound twice before andagain she was reminded of the slaughter of some animal.
Archú helped extract the body from the underground storage space. Its removal was difficult but they finally hauled it up the stone steps and into the pigsty. Scoth had gone to fetch a lantern and by its light Fidelma carefully examined the body for anything which might explain this gruesome mystery. There was nothing.
It was obvious to Fidelma that Menma must have brought the body of Dignait to this spot. She recalled how he had ridden out of the rath early that morning leading the ass with the heavy pannier on its back. She ground her teeth. Dignait’s body must have been in that pannier.
‘Was Menma left alone while he was here?’ she demanded.
‘After he delivered the message to Dubán’s men, who were with me in the high meadow, he came back to the buildings here on his own. But Scoth was here.’
‘I was in the house,’ Scoth affirmed. ‘Menma came to the house to make his farewell.’
‘Did you observe him arrive from the high field?’
Scoth shook her head.
‘I was doing some washing and did not notice him until he called out to me.’
‘Then plenty of time for him to come back from the high meadow, see he was not observed and take Dignait’s body from the pannier and put it into the underground chamber before calling out to Scoth.’
Scoth stared in horror at Fidelma.
‘The body was in the pannier? But how did Menma know where to put it? He must have known where the underground chamber was.’
‘Menma was related to Muadnat,’ Archú pointed out. ‘Muadnat knew this farm as well as his own.’
They were interrupted by the sound of a horse cantering along the track.
Archú swung round nervously but he immediately relaxed.
‘It is only Dubán,’ he said, adding unnecessarily, ‘that is why his men did not warn us of his approach.’
Fidelma had an immediate feeling of unease as she saw the burly warrior approaching. She was still unsure of his motive for killing Menma.
Dubán swung off his horse and greeted them with a warm smile. Then he saw the body at their feet.
‘What happened?’ he demanded. ‘It’s Dignait!’
‘We found her in an underground storage space,’ Archú announced.
The warrior crouched down to examine the body. Then he straightened up.
‘Well, that ends one mystery,’ he breathed softly. ‘I was told this morning that Dignait had disappeared after, apparently, feeding the Saxon poisonous mushrooms. What does this mean, sister?’
Fidelma forced herself to appear at ease with the warrior.
‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
‘How did you make the discovery?’
‘I discovered this piece of vellum.’ Fidelma hastened to explain before anyone could mention Menma. She held it out to Dubán, watching his face closely. It seemed clear from his lack of reaction that he had not seen it before.
‘I do not understand,’ he commented. ‘This tells you to come here to search. But how does the discovery of Dignait’s body explain the mystery of the deaths in Araglin?’
‘Perhaps,’ Fidelma carefully retrieved the vellum, ‘perhaps I am supposed to believe that Dignait was responsible for the deaths.’
‘Well that can’t be,’ Dubán pointed out. ‘It is obvious that the same hand who killed Muadnat also slew Dignait. The knife wounds are too similar for it to be a separate hand.’
‘You are observant, Dubán,’ Fidelma agreed quietly.
‘War and death are my profession, sister. I am used to observing wounds. But whoever wrote that vellum gave us an unintentional clue.’
‘A clue?’
‘It is written in Latin. Few people in Araglin know Latin.’
‘Ah, just so,’ mused Fidelma. ‘And certainly, as I pointed out to Scoth, Agdae does not. So that rules him out. Do you know Latin, Dubán?’
The warrior did not hesitate.
‘Of course. Most educated people know some. Even Gadra knows Latin as pagan as he is.’
Fidelma turned to Archú.
‘I want you and Scoth to come into the rath at noon tomorrow,’ she told him and while he was attempting to protest she went on. ‘Dubán will instruct his warriors to escort you.’ She turned to Dubán. ‘And you will also instruct your warriors to bring in Agdae …’
‘We have not been able to find Agdae,’ protested Dubán.
‘You will find him at the brothel of Clídna. Make sure he has been sobered up by the time he reaches the rath. Oh, and bring Clídna with you as well.’
Dubán was shocked.
‘Do you know what you are requesting?’ he demanded.
‘Exactly. Tomorrow I think we will be able to sort out the entire mystery.’
Dubán’s eyes widened perceptibly.
‘Is this so?’
Fidelma smiled without humour.
‘Will you instruct your men now about escorting those I have mentioned?’
The warrior hesitated then inclined his head in agreement before moving off into the gloom hailing his men as he went.
Fidelma turned quickly towards her horse.
‘Wait, sister!’ called Scoth. ‘Surely you do not mean to leave us. Why it is dusk. You will not get back to the rath until long after nightfall.’
‘Do not worry about me. I know the way by now. And thereare things that I must do. I will see you and Archú at the rath tomorrow at midday.’
She swung into the saddle and sent her horse into the enveloping gloom, urging it forward in a quick trot.
She had not ridden more than half a mile into the darkness when she heard the sound of galloping behind her. She glanced about seeking shelter but the road here was long and open. There was not even a hedgerow behind which she could find cover.
‘Hóigh! Sister!’
It was Dubán’s voice. Reluctantly she halted and turned in her saddle.
Dubán drew up sharply alongside her.
‘It is not wise to ride off in the darkness,’ he admonished. ‘The finding of Dignait’s body does not make this valley safe.’