Valley of the Shadow

land. Some of the tribes beyond this valley had their herds depleted by raids. But why kill these strangers and in such a fashion? Who are these strangers that have been killed? Where did they come from? No one seems to offer any answers to these perplexing questions as yet.’

Fidelma was suddenly interested.

‘Are we certain that they are strangers?’

Laisre was self-assured.

‘Artgal examined the features of each corpse in turn. We are not such a large community here that thirty of our young men can go missing without our knowing of it. He recognised no one.’

‘Thirty-three, in fact,’ replied Fidelma, turning purposefully to Murgal. ‘Thirty-three corpses. A strange number is thirty-three. Thirty-three spread in a sunwise circle. Each corpse slain by three different methods — The Threefold Death.’

There was a chill silence in the council chamber; so quiet that one could hear the soft snoring of one of the deerhounds against the crackle of the fire. No one made any reply. All understood the significance of what she was saying. The symbolism meant much to those who followed the old paths of worship. Finally Murgal took an angry step forward.

‘Speak on, envoy of Cashel. I believe there is an accusation behind your speech.’

Laisre looked uncomfortably towards his Brehon.

‘I hear no accusation, Murgal,’ he admonished. Then turning to Fidelma he continued pleasantly, ‘The idea that we of the old religion hold human sacrifices, which is what I have heard some of the clerics of your Faith preach, is a nonsense. Even in the ancient stories about the worship of the idol Cromm, it was the Druids who are said to have stood against the king, Tigernmas, who introduced the worship of Cromm, and it was they who brought about his destruction and an end to that vile cult.’

‘Nevertheless,’ Fidelma pressed, ‘I merely point out the symbolism of these deaths. Such symbolism draws one to the inevitable questions and ones that need to be answered.’

Orla, who had taken a stand near her husband, sniffed deprecatingly.

‘I have already explained to Fidelma of Cashel that she cannot look to Gleann Geis for responsibility for these deaths.’

‘I did not suggest that the responsibility lay in Gleann Geis. But responsibility rests somewhere. I would ask permission to withdraw from your council for a few days and proceed with an investigation immediately, before the signs are destroyed by wind and rain.’

It was clear that Laisre was not happy at the proposal. Yet it was Colla who spoke for him.

‘Obviously, there is much to be discussed between Gleann Geis and Cashel,’ he ventured, speaking directly to Laisre. ‘The negotiations are important. Time cannot be wasted. Because of that factor, let me then make a suggestion, my chieftain. Give mepermission to ride out with half-a-dozen warriors and investigate in the place of Fidelma of Cashel. While she concludes the business that brought her to Gleann Geis, I will see what can be learnt about these deaths and then return to make a report to her.’

Laisre appeared relieved at the suggestion.

‘An excellent idea. We are agreed to it.’

Fidelma was about to express her dissatisfaction and point out that as a trained dálaigh of the courts she had more experience in assessing such matters than Laisre’s tanist but the chieftain went on: ‘Yes; make ready, Colla. Take Artgal and as many men as you feel that you need. You do not have to leave until dawn tomorrow. So tonight we will hold our feast to welcome the envoy of Cashel as we have planned.’ He turned to Fidelma with a smile. ‘A commendable plan of action, do you not think so, Fidelma of Cashel?’

Fidelma was still going to disagree when Murgal interrupted with a tone of satisfaction.

‘I am sure that Colla will find that there is no blame that will attach itself to Gleann Geis.’

Fidelma glanced at him with irritation.

‘I am sure your tanist will discover that.’

Murgal returned her look and knew what she was implying. He clearly debated momentarily whether he should take open offence at her words but she turned away to conceal her annoyance at how she had been deflected from her purpose.

Eadulf was a little concerned and wondered whether Fidelma would press the matter further. It did not need someone with prudence to realise that there was no way that Fidelma would be given permission by the chieftain of Gleann Geis to leave the negotiations and follow an investigation concerning the slain men. Thankfully, so far as Eadulf was concerned, Fidelma seemed to realise as much for she finally inclined her head in acceptance of the situation.

‘Very well, Laisre,’ she said, ‘I shall accept this proposal. I will need to make a full report on this matter to my brother when I return to Cashel, so all that Colla can discover, however much he deems it of insignificance, will be of interest to me.’

‘Then I shall leave with my men at break of day, Fidelma of Cashel,’ the tanist assured her.

Laisre beamed with satisfaction.

‘Excellent. Now let us turn our minds to other matters. I have neglected my duties as host. Have you met Solin, secretary to Ultan of Armagh and a leading cleric of your Faith?’

Fidelma did not bother to turn in Brother Solin’s direction. Outof the corner of her eye she had been aware that Solin had been standing with Eadulf and had been whispering in his ear. Eadulf looked uncomfortable and had removed himself a pace or two.

‘I have already met Brother Solin,’ she said in a voice which evinced no pleasure at the meeting.

‘And Brother Dianach, my scribe?’ queried Solin coming forward. ‘I do not think that you have met him?’

There was something pompous about the way he said it, as if making the point that he was a man important enough to have a scribe with him. Fidelma turned to examine the thin, slightly effeminate young man whom Solin now pushed forward. He was hardly out of his teens with a pale, spotted face and a badly shaved tonsure in the manner of those of the Roman creed. The boy was nervous and his dark eyes would not meet her gaze, giving him the appearance of shiftiness. She felt sorry for the gauche youngster.

‘Salve, Brother Dianach,’ she greeted in Roman fashion, trying to put the boy at his ease.

‘Pax tecum,’ he stammered in reply.

Fidelma turned back to Laisre.

‘I would also take this opportunity to introduce Brother Eadulf, an envoy from the Archbishop Theodore of Canterbury in the land of Kent.’

Eadulf took a pace forward and bowed slightly from the neck, first to the chieftain and then generally to the assembly.

‘You are welcome to this place, Eadulf of Canterbury,’ greeted Laisre, having a little difficulty in pronouncing the foreign names. ‘For what purpose do you honour our little valley with a visit? The Archbishop Theodore, of the distant land you come from, has surely no interest in what transpires in this part of the world?’

Eadulf was diplomatic.

‘I am sent as an envoy to the king of Cashel only. But while enjoying his hospitality, I have taken the opportunity to visit the far corners of his kingdom to discover how his people prosper and in what manner.’

‘Then you are thrice welcome to observe how we do so,’ replied Laisre solemnly. He glanced again at Fidelma. ‘And now …’

‘Now,’ Fidelma said, reaching into her robe and bringing forth the white wand of office and, at the same time, drawing out her dagger. ‘We must observe custom.’ She held out the dagger hilt towards Laisre in one hand and the wand with the stag’s head in the other.

Laisre knew the protocol. He reached out a hand and lightly tapped the wand with his forefinger.

‘We receive you as envoy of Colgú,’ he intoned solemnly before stepping back and waving his hand to the hovering servants who brought chairs and placed them in a semi-circle before his chair of office. Several of the people stood back while Laisre indicated Fidelma and Eadulf to be seated. Murgal, Colla, Orla and Solin were the only others who seated themselves while the chieftain returned to his chair.

‘Now to the purpose of the negotiation …’ Laisre began.