The Seventh Trumpet (22 page)

‘You are right in that there is a mystery. At the moment, there is nothing I can tell you except that Brother Ailgesach was smothered while in a drunken stupor, and the circumstances point to this man who called himself his cousin – Brother Biasta – as the culprit. That is why we seek him.’

There was a shocked silence. Gelgéis was regarding Fidelma with a horrified expression. She licked her lips as if they had suddenly gone dry.

‘Why do you seek this man in Durlus, the man you say killed Ailgesach?’

‘He was last seen heading north in this direction.’

‘Because he was heading north from Fraigh Dubh, it does not mean to say he was heading for Durlus Éile,’ Gelgéis protested. ‘Any strange religious passing through or staying in the township would have been noticed and mentioned. Just as we heard that yesterday, two strangers were in the town. One of the strangers was obviously Brother Eadulf. The other was a warrior.’

‘That was well observed,’ muttered Eadulf, almost to himself.

‘I believe that the man calling himself Brother Biasta might well have come here,’ Fidelma said.

‘What makes you think so? There are many paths that he could have taken.’

‘Because I am no believer in coincidence, only the wind of fate.’

There was a concerned expression on Gelgéis’s features before the Princess of the Éile shook her head firmly. ‘Were I not aware of your reputation, I would say that you are playing games here and wasting our time. I feel you trespass on our hospitality. State plainly what you mean.’

‘The storehouses on the far side of the river, the ones just opposite the quays – I am told that they are your own storehouses. Is that correct?’

‘I do not deny that they are mine.’

‘In one of them you will find the body of a young man. His name is Enán. He was the son of a ferryman called Echna who plies his trade on the river just to the south. He was murdered in your storehouse.’

There was no questioning that the news shocked the Princess. Daig had also sat back with an expression of horror.

‘How do you know this?’ demanded Spealáin, stepping forward.

‘Because I, too, was nearly killed there. I’ll come to the detail in a moment, but please tell me when you last used those buildings.’

Gelgéis motioned to her steward, who answered for her. ‘They have not been used this summer,’ he replied. ‘The harvest has not been bountiful enough to fill them as well as my other stores. In fact, we have not used them for well over a year.’

‘No one else has permission to use them?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Then I will tell you how I came to know of this matter.’ Fidelma quickly filled them in with the broad details of the abduction of Torna and herself. ‘In all these matters, I am acting under the authority of my brother, the King, and will exhort your cooperation and support in my investigation. I believe it is all part of one mystery.’

Gelgéis was silent for a while. Her features were now pale and haggard as she said slowly: ‘You have stated your authority and I accept it. You have but to call on me for any assistance you may need.’

‘Some assistance I shall need immediately, for I cannot spare my companions,’ Fidelma replied straight away. ‘I need to ask that the body of the young man who was murdered in that storehouse be transported back to his father, Echna, the ferryman.’

‘It shall be done,’ Gelgéis said quietly.

‘Echna is to be assured that the culprits will be found and compensation obtained for the loss of his son,’ Fidelma continued.

The princess inclined her head. ‘Very well. How else can we help? You intend to go in pursuit of this man you call Torna and his abductors?’

‘I do. I do not suppose the name Torna means anything to you?’

Gelgéis blinked and then shook her head. ‘This is the name of the poet, who was abducted with you? This man … er, Torna – was he injured?’

‘We were told that when he was removed from the storehouse, he was able to walk between two of the abductors and sat in the stern of the boat that removed him,’ offered Eadulf.

‘Are you sure that he is unknown to you?’ questioned Fidelma.

‘I know of no one by that name,’ Gelgéis told her. ‘The boat went south, you say?’

‘It did,’ Fidelma replied, rising from her seat. She realised she could not interrogate Gelgéis further but sensed there was some link. ‘You will excuse us. There is much to do and little time to do it.’

‘Then let my steward know what you want. You have only to ask. But a word of caution, Fidelma. To the east of us, as you must know, lies the territory of the People of the Deer – the Osraige. It is a border territory where not everything is as it seems. Remember that, Fidelma of Cashel. Have a care.’

They took their formal leave and found Gormán waiting impatiently for them in the courtyard.

‘Well, any news?’ he greeted.

‘All of it negative,’ replied Fidelma. ‘Did you discover anything from people’s gossip?’

‘Only one piece of news seems to be of relevance to us.’ It was clear Gormán felt it was of some importance.

‘Which is?’

‘I found one of the local farmers who had been on his way here last evening for the festivities. He had arrived by boat just before dusk with his sons from his farm on the other side of the river. They came down the River Dríse, a tributary of the Suir which flows into the river just a short distance south-east of the township.’

‘Are you going to tell me that he saw the boat with the abductors?’ asked Fidelma, leaping ahead of him.

For a second Gormán looked disappointed that she had guessed his news. ‘Indeed, he did. There was a religieux in the bow and two men rowing. Three were seated in the stern of the boat,’ Gormán replied. ‘The farmers confirmed that the young man who sat in the centre of the two in the stern did not look happy, and his companions seemed to have an unusually tight hold of him. The boat was moving upstream along the Dríse.’

Eadulf grimaced. ‘Well, wherever they were going they have a full day’s head-start on us, if we are to follow.’

‘I know part of that river,’ offered Gormán. ‘It leads straight into the heart of Osraige territory.’

This information made them think. Then Fidelma asked: ‘Was there any other news that you were able to pick up?’

‘Nothing that can help us. But I did see those Laigin merchants who stopped at the forge this morning. They were still full of the gossip relating to the strange attacks in the west – the burning of churches and communities. They said that they had even encountered a fellow merchant who had fled from the west and saw part of this band of raiders. He was able to hide in a cave and escape their attention.’

‘Was anything in particular noticed, anything that could identify who the raiders were?’

‘Only what they told the smith – that the raiders were led by a woman who carried some sort of religious banner. The merchant I spoke to said that the curious thing was that, although she led roughly clad bandits, she herself was dressed in purple with a great scarlet cloak deckled with gold and precious gems.’

‘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

‘P
ut 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.’