The Spider's Web

garden, watching them pass, obviously disturbed in the process of tending to the flowers, was a small, fleshy blonde woman.

They passed too far away for Fidelma to note the details of her features. The woman stood making no effort to raise her hand in greeting but continued to watch them as they rode by. Fidelma noticed with curiosity that a couple of Dubán’s men exchanged sly, grinning glances and one of them even gave an audible guffaw.

Fidelma eased her horse towards the front of the small column to where Dubán rode.

‘Who was that?’ she asked.

‘No one of importance,’ replied the warrior gruffly.

‘This no one of importance seems to create an interest among your men.’

Dubán looked uncomfortable.

‘That was Clídna, a woman of flesh.’

‘Woman of flesh’ was a euphemism for a prostitute.

‘I see.’ Fidelma was thoughtful. She pulled her horse out of the line and waited while the other warriors rode by. Eadulf caught up with her and she eased her horse alongside his. She briefly passed on the explanation. He sighed and shook his head sadly.

‘So much sin in so beautiful a spot.’

Fidelma did not bother to reply.

At the end of the large valley they began to ascend through the shelter of the surrounding forests but here the track was well cut and broad enough for wagons. They ascended the steep gradient between two hills, climbing upward into a second valley on a higher elevation. As they moved into this, Fidelma pointed wordlessly and Eadulf followed her outstretched hand. A column of smoke was rising some way away across the shoulder of the hills.

Dubán turned in his saddle, and noting that Fidelma had already seen the tell-tale sign waved her to come forward.

‘This is the valley of the Black Marsh. Where that smoke is rising is Archú’s farmstead. To your left, the valley lands belong to Muadnat.’

Fidelma noted the cultivated fields, the cattle and deer herds and rich pastureland. It was a farmstead that was worth far more than seven cumals, she noted. Muadnat’s farm was clearly a rich one. She placed it at five times the value of the land which he had been forced to give back to Archú.

The road ran alongside the boundary of Muadnat’s farmstead, slightly above it on a track worn in the side of the rolling hills. It was sometimes lined with trees and scrubland while at other times open to stretches of grassland which had been shortened by deerherds or other herbivores. In the valley below there seemed no sign of activity on Muadnat’s farmstead.

‘I would imagine Muadnat and his farm hands have already ridden to Archú’s,’ explained Dubán, guessing what was passing through her mind.

Fidelma smiled thinly but made no other comment. Certainly the column of smoke would have been easily seen from Muadnat’s farmstead.

Dubán ordered the pace to increase to a canter.

The column of horses moved rapidly along the hillside track, which twisted down the slopes moving with the contours of the hill.

Fidelma realised that the part of the valley in which Archú dwelt almost constituted a separate valley to the area occupied by Muadnat. This area seemed to twist off from the main valley of the Black Marsh at a forty- five degree angle, hiding much of its lands from the track along which they had come. Soon the descent to the valley became so precipitous they had to slow down to a walk.

‘How well do you know this area, Dubán?’ called Fidelma.

‘Well enough,’ replied the warrior.

‘Is this the only track in or out of this valley?’

‘This is the only easy route but men, even with horses, might find a way over the peaks.’

Fidelma raised her eyes to the rounded hilltops.

‘Only in desperation,’ she observed.

Eadulf leaned forward.

‘What are you thinking?’ he asked.

‘Oh, just that a band of men on horseback riding to Archú’s farmstead must surely have ridden across or by the land of Muadnat and have been observed.’

They came as quickly as they could down to the valley floor. The main group of farm buildings were easily recognisable; a dwelling house, a kiln for drying corn standing just beyond it.There was a barn and a pigsty. A little way beyond these was the smoking ruin of another barn, charred and blackened, from which the spiral of smoke was still ascending.

There were a few cattle in a pen, one of which was giving vent to an irritated lowing.

Dubán made directly for the dwelling house.

‘Halt! If you value your lives!’

The voice was almost a high-pitched scream.

It caused them all to jerk upon their reins and come to an unceremonious halt before the main building.

‘We are armed,’ called the voice, ‘and many of us. Go back from whence you came or …’

Fidelma edged her way forward.

‘Archú!’ she shouted, having recognised the voice of the youth. ‘It is I, Fidelma. We have come to assist you.’

The door of the main building opened abruptly. Archú stood there staring at them. All he held in his hand was a rusty sword. Behind him the young girl, Scoth, peered fearfully over his shoulder.

‘Sister Fidelma!’ Archú gazed from her to Dubán and the rest of the company. ‘We thought the raiders had returned.’

Fidelma swung herself down, followed by Dubán and Eadulf. The other men remained mounted, staring suspiciously about the countryside.

‘We heard that bandits had raided your farmstead. A shepherd rode to the rath to bring word.’

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