The Spider's Web

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.’

Fidelma smiled thinly but her expression was lost in the gloom.

‘I did not think it would be,’ she replied.

‘You should have waited. I am going back to the rath, anyway. We will go together.’

Fidelma would have preferred her own company rather than have to proceed in Dubán’s after what she had witnessed at the mine but there was no excuse. She must accept Dubán’s company or challenge him with her suspicions and her knowledge that he had killed Menma.

‘Very well,’ she said. ‘But I can handle most two-legged predators.’

‘So I have heard,’ Dubán agreed with a laugh. ‘However, I was thinking of four-legged beasts. Archú tells me that there has been trouble from wolves in the last day or so through the Black Marsh.’

‘Wolves are the least of my trouble.’

They began to walk their horses leisurely together.

‘Ah, you are thinking of Agdae …’

‘More of Crítán,’ she spoke abruptly. ‘Remember, I had a fight with that young man and he may wish revenge.’

Was there a hesitation in Dubán’s tone when he finally spoke?

‘Of course. I had forgotten. You need have no fear of Crítán. I am told that he has left Araglin for Cashel. Do you really mean it when you say that you think matters might be resolved after tomorrow?’

‘I usually mean what I say,’ Fidelma replied waspishly.

‘Then that will be a relief to Crón.’

‘And doubtless you …’

What she was about to say was cut short by a plaintive lowing of nearby cattle. It was an odd, frenzied cry of fear.

Dubán reined in his horse abruptly and gazed across the hillside into the twilight. Fidelma halted her mount beside him.

She could see the shadows of the shaggy haired cattle moving restlessly in the semi-gloom and hear their curious protest.

‘What is it?’ she asked, finding herself whispering.

‘I do not know,’ confessed Dubán. ‘I think something is worrying them. An animal, perhaps. I’d better have a look.’

He slid from his horse and handed the reins to Fidelma.

She sat watching the warrior move cautiously off towards the cattle into the gloom.

It was chilly and she drew her cloak firmly around her shoulders. After a moment she became aware of Dubán’s horse snorting and tugging against its rein.