‘Hold, warrior! Even breathe and you are a dead man!’
Gormán had spotted at least two bowmen with weapons levelled and he let his sword hand stay motionless in the air. Abruptly two riders came round the corner of the fortress wall, blocking the pathway. They edged their horses closer.
‘Well, well,’ the leader, clearly a warrior, sneered as he examined them. ‘Who do we have here? More thieves and liars of the Fir Maige Féne?’
Neither Fidelma nor Eadulf made any response or movement. They were aware of several other people among the buildings now. It had been a simple and successful ambush and Fidelma was silently chastising herself.
‘I advise you,’ called Gormán, undeterred, ‘that you stand in grave danger. This is Fidelma of Cashel, sister to King Colgú. Threatening her and her husband, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham, is an affront to her brother, your rightful King.’
‘I serve only Uallachán, chief of the Uí Liatháin,’ replied the man with a sardonic smile. ‘I stand in danger only of his displeasure if I do not carry out his orders.’
He turned and waved to his men to close in. With growing apprehension, Eadulf saw that one of the riders carried a banner with a grey fox’s head on it. Then another rider, dressed in the brown robes of a religious, moved forward.
‘Is that Fidelma? Fidelma of Cashel?’ The man clearly recognised her and turned to the leader of the warriors. ‘It is true that she is Fidelma of Cashel, sister to King Colgú.’ Then he turned to her. ‘What are you doing here? Do you recognise me?’
Fidelma frowned slightly. ‘I seem to know your face …’
‘At Ard Mór when you were waiting to go on board the
Barnacle Goose
on a pilgrimage voyage.’
Her features cleared. ‘You were the librarian of the abbey. Brother … Brother …’
‘Brother Temnen,’ supplied the man eagerly.
‘It was some years ago,’ Fidelma admitted.
‘I also remember you during the summer that you solved the murder of poor Sister Aróc,’ said Brother Temnen.
‘This is Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham,’ introduced Fidelma, ‘and this is a warrior of my brother’s bodyguard, Gormán.’
‘Of Eadulf I have heard,’ acknowledged the librarian. He turned again to the leader of the warriors. ‘These are not our enemies, my friend. They are not Fir Maige Féne.’
The man seemed undecided. ‘My chief, Uallachán, should be here within the hour. It will be for him to decide what is to be done.’
‘Uallachán is coming here?’ asked Fidelma in surprise.
‘We are an advance party to hold this crossing in case Cumscrad and his lying tribe attack us. I suggest that we all dismount to await his arrival in the fortress.’
Gormán looked questioningly at Fidelma but she shrugged her acceptance of the inevitable. Everyone dismounted and the horses were led into the abandoned fortress. Guards watched over them while others went to strategic points. The leader of the warriors then came to stand uncomfortably by them while Brother Temnen sat down with Fidelma and her companions.
‘What brings you here into the country of the Fir Maige Féne?’ she asked.
Brother Temnen’s expression was serious and he made a helpless gesture. ‘I wish we could have met in more pleasant circumstances.’
‘What makes our meeting here unpleasant?’
‘I have been asked to accompany Uallachán’s war band.’
‘War band?’
‘He means to raid Fhear Maighe as a punishment.’
Fidelma’s eyes grew hard. ‘Means to raid it? Are you saying that he has not done so already?’
The librarian looked surprised. ‘I do not understand your question.’
‘We have just come from Fhear Maighe. While we were there yesterday, some warriors carrying the same emblem that you carry,’ she indicated the man still carrying the clan totem, ‘raided
and burnt the library there. Dubhagan, the librarian, was killed. Many priceless manuscripts have been destroyed.’
‘These are lies put out by our enemies the Fir Maige Féne,’ snapped the leader of the warriors.
‘Then we are liars too,’ Fidelma riposted. ‘Because we were there and saw the raid.’
‘It was not my men nor any warrior of the Uí Liatháin. Uallachán rides an hour behind us, so it was not he.’
‘It is true, Fidelma,’ Brother Temnen chimed in firmly. ‘He tells no lie. I have been with the Uí Liatháin and they have raided no one.’
‘Among your warriors, do you have a
bánaí
, a thin man with snow-white hair and skin?’
‘Not among my men,’ replied the Uí Liatháin warrior immediately. Then a frown appeared on his features. It was clear that he recognised the description.
‘But you know of such a man?’ Fidelma asked quickly.
‘I have seen such a man at the head of a band of warriors,’ admitted the warrior, ‘but not in Uí Liatháin territory. I saw them weeks ago landing from a ship in the bay below Ard Mór.’
‘Landing from a ship?’ repeated Fidelma thoughtfully.
‘The fact that he was accoutred as a warrior yet was also a
bánaí
drew my attention. He wore a golden circlet round his neck but not of the style our warriors wear, such as that one.’ He pointed to Gormán.
‘I don’t suppose you can tell us more.’
The Uí Liatháin shrugged indifferently. ‘Little more to tell. A dozen men disembarked with him. They were all warriors. The ship had arrived from Britain, so I was told. Some outlandish kingdom – ah, a place called Kernow.’
‘What happened to them?’ asked Fidelma.
‘They bought horses from the local traders and rode off north. They carried arms with them. I suspect they were
dílmainech
.’
‘Mercenaries?’
‘Exactly so.’
‘What were you doing in Ard Mór?’
‘Some of us often go there to see what foreign ships come in and what goods may be bought.’
Fidelma gazed hard at the warrior and then at the religieux and realised that their puzzled expressions were not false.
‘Will you explain how you came here and for what purpose?’
‘To teach Cumscrad and his fellow liars a lesson,’ snapped the warrior.
‘I will explain,’ Brother Temnen intervened in a more moderate tone. ‘Our abbot, Rian of Ard Mór, who is a kinsman of yours, contacted Dubhagan, the librarian at Fhear Maighe, with a commission. As you know, the library there has many works that are not to be found elsewhere among the great libraries of the Five Kingdoms.’
‘And the commission was?’ prompted Fidelma.
‘To copy two works, one a collection of the poems of the great bard Dallán Forgaill, and the other a foreign work by a writer called Celsus.’
‘And why would your abbey want to spend money on getting a copy of a book attacking the Faith?’ queried Eadulf.
Brother Temnen said, ‘So you know this work? One of our scholars had read a criticism of Celsus by Origenes and thought it could be improved on. He did not want anyone beguiled by the pitfalls Celsus had prepared.’
‘Very well, continue.’
‘Dubhagan accepted the commission and all was agreed by us in good faith. Then we heard word that the copies had been placed on one of the river barges which was due at Ard Mór. Not only did they not arrive but we also heard rumours that Uí Liatháin warriors had attacked the barge and stolen the books. Uallachán was summoned to the abbey but denied this. He claimed
the Fir Maige Féne were liars. This war band is to demand reparation from Cumscrad and the Fir Maige Féne for spreading such lies.’
‘And why are you, a librarian from Ard Mór, accompanying these warriors on this raid?’
‘Uallachán believes that the books were never sent and that Cumscrad has engaged in some deception,’ said Brother Temnen. ‘He wants me to search the library during the raid and identify the books that he claims were stolen. I am to be a witness.’
‘How could you tell who was the liar?’ demanded Fidelma. ‘Either chief could be lying.’
‘When Abbot Rian called Uallachán to the abbey, he made the chieftain take oath before the High Altar that he spoke the truth. He did so and therefore we believe that no warrior of the Uí Liatháin has done this thing. Uallachán believes that Cumscrad is spreading lies to provoke a war in the hope of seizing the lands of the Uí Liatháin.’
‘If that were so,’ Fidelma smiled thinly and gestured to the warriors around her, ‘Cumscrad has been successful. However, I don’t think it is that simple, Brother Temnen. If you had witnessed the destruction of the library of Fhear Maighe, the near death of Cumscrad’s own son who worked in the library, and the death of Dubhagan … I do not think Cumscrad or his men had a hand in it. Furthermore, the
bánaí
was killed when he tried to escape with the others.’
Brother Temnen shrugged. ‘We will have to await the arrival of Uallachán. After speaking to him, perhaps you will be able to ascertain where the truth lies.’
‘That is my intention,’ Fidelma replied. ‘If the Uí Liatháin did not attack either the barge or the library, then someone is trying to create a problem between Uallachán and Cumscrad. But why? Who would that benefit?’
Eadulf had been thinking. ‘Who knew about this commission
from your abbot to the library of Fhear Maighe?’ he asked. ‘I mean, who apart from your abbey and Dubhagan?’
‘I suppose several people.’
‘But would they know the titles and the nature of the books that were to be copied?’
‘That was a matter that only we in Ard Mór and Dubhagan and his copyists would have known. But isn’t there a saying that to tell a secret to three people makes it no longer a secret?’
‘How did you learn that Fhear Maighe had these books?’ asked Eadulf.
‘I checked with them.’
‘How?’
‘I sent a messenger to find out. But that was a long time ago. It took many months to make the copies. It was only last week that we received word that the books were ready. We were to pay thirty
seds
.’
‘A large price to pay.’
‘Extortionate,’ agreed the librarian, philosophically. ‘But the Celsus book is very rare. I am told there is not another copy known in the Five Kingdoms because of the nature of the book.’
‘You mean because it was an early attack on the founders of the Faith?’ asked Eadulf.
‘Exactly so.’
‘So who brought you the news that the copies were ready and would be delivered?’
‘One of the brethren.’
‘The same messenger from your abbey?’
‘Not from our abbey, no.’
‘From Fhear Maighe?’
‘A physician,’ replied Brother Temnen. ‘He paid us a visit to collect certain herbs that had been brought ashore from one of the merchant ships.’
The abbey of Ard Mór lay where The Great River emptied
into the sea, just on the southern coast where merchant ships came and went to many parts of the world, to the island of Britain, the coast of Gaul and even south to Iberia.
‘A physician?’ Fidelma queried sharply.
‘The physician from Lios Mór.’
‘Are you speaking of Brother Seachlann?’ she asked slowly.
‘Seachlann, that was his name. It was Brother Seachlann who came to our abbey some days ago in search of herbs that had been lately carried from Gaul. He told us that the books were ready and being shipped by barge to the abbey. Thus we were forewarned to gather thirty
seds
to pay the bargemen, but the barge never arrived. Then we heard that the Uí Liatháin had stolen the books.’
‘How did Brother Seachlann know that the books from Fhear Maighe were ready?’
The librarian shrugged. ‘No one asked. What need was there to ask? We were happy to hear the news.’
There came a shout from one of the sentinels and the sound of approaching horses. The warrior commander went quickly to the entrance of the fortress just as a band of horsemen entered.
The leader of the newcomers was not an ugly man but he could not be described as handsome. He was a bearded, middle-aged man, clad entirely in black, with burnished armour and plumed war helmet. He wore his weaponry in such a way that it was obvious that he was no novice in the use of arms.
The commander saluted the man respectfully and held his horse while he dismounted.
‘So what have we here?’ the newcomer thundered. ‘Innocent wayfarers or spies from the Fhear Maighe?’
They had all risen and Gormán took an aggressive step forward but Fidelma held him back. But the young warrior paid her no attention and shouted in a firm voice, ‘You stand in the presence of Fidelma of Cashel, sister to your King, Colgú, son of Failbe
Flann. Do I, Gormán of the Nasc Niadh, need to teach you a lesson in respect?’
The newcomer stared at Gormán, then he saw the golden circlet round his neck that denoted membership of the Nasc Niadh. He turned his head to examine Fidelma and his eyes widened in recognition.