Laisre hesitated and then shrugged.
‘Very well. Thank you for agreeing.’ He nudged his horse and went back in the direction of the ráth at a canter.
Eadulf looked wistfully after him.
‘I could have gone back to sleep for a while,’ he moaned. ‘I do not see the purpose in these games, Fidelma.’
‘It is called diplomacy, Eadulf,’ grinned his companion. ‘The problem is that I do not know who is representing whom. Now let us see if this group of houses will reveal the information I want to know.’
They rode across the bridge into a tiny square surrounded by half-a-dozen homesteads. The largest was a sizable farmhouse. The others appeared to be no more than cabins which could belong either to people with small fields to work or the workers on the larger farm.
A large, red-faced woman was standing leaning against the door of the big farmstead watching their approach with unconcealed curiosity. Fidelma had noticed her immediately they had paused by the bridge to talk with Laisre. The woman looked a typical farmer’s wife, she was thick-set with muscular arms, ready to do a day’s work in the fields. She had been studying them carefully and with a degree of hostility on her features.
‘Health on you, good woman,’ greeted Fidelma.
‘My man is at the council,’ snapped the woman in an unfriendly tone. ‘He is Ronan and he is lord of this place.’
‘I am come from the council myself.’
‘I know who you are.’
‘Good.’ Fidelma swung herself down from her horse. ‘Then I do not have to explain.’
The woman scowled discouragingly.
‘I told you that my man was away.’
‘It was not your man that I came to see. You say you know who I am. Good. What is your name?’
The woman looked suspicious.
‘Bairsech. Why do you want to know? What is it you want?’
‘To talk, that is all, Bairsech. Do you have many people living in this settlement?’
‘Twice twenty,’ the woman replied indifferently.
‘Did you have a visitor last night?’
‘A visitor? We had several. My man was at the feasting, as was his right, and three cousins stayed with us, having come down the valley to attend. It is a long journey back at night, especially when one has drink taken.’
Fidelma smiled, trying to put the still hostile woman at ease.
‘You are wise, Bairsech. But were there any other visitors, other than your cousins, that stayed here? I mean,’ she decided to be explicit, ‘a thick-set man who is currently a guest at the ráth.’
The woman’s eyes narrowed.
‘Thick-set? A man with his head cut in that ridiculous manner which your companion wears?’
Eadulf flushed in irritation at the reference to his tonsure but kept silent.
‘The same.’
‘A man in fine clothes? Oh yes, he was here. I saw him leaving this morning when I was up to milk the cows, leaving my man still snoring abed. Yes. He was here.’
‘Does he know your man, then — know Ronan?’
‘I said he was here in the settlement. He was not staying with our household.’
She jerked her head towards a small building set apart from the others with its own stable and an adjacent field in which half-a-dozen cattle were grazing peacefully.
‘That is where he stayed.’
Fidelma turned to gaze upon the small building with interest.
‘And who dwells there?’
‘A woman of the flesh,’ replied the other disapprovingly. It was a euphemism for a prostitute.
Fidelma’s eyes widened in astonishment. She had not expected a prostitute to be dwelling in this isolated valley, let alone in such a small hamlet.
‘And does she have a name, this woman of the flesh?’
‘She is called Nemon.’
‘Nemon? An inappropriate name for one of her calling it would seem.’
Nemon was the name of one of the ancient war goddesses. It meant ‘battle-fury’.
‘I spit on the name,’ the burly woman suited the word to the action, ‘I have told my man that she should be driven away from here. Yet the farmstead is her property and she is under the protection of Murgal.’
‘She is? And you say that the man I described stayed with her last night?’
‘I did.’
‘Then we will go and see what Nemon has to say about this. Thank you, Bairsech, for your time and courtesy.’
They left the woman still scowling in suspicion after them.
Eadulf had slid off his horse by now and together they walked across the settlement, leading their horses.
‘Who would have thought our pious brother from the north was a frequenter of women of the flesh,’ he chuckled.
‘We do not know that for sure,’ Fidelma reproved him. ‘All we know is that he did not return to the guests’ hostel and appears to have stayed the night at the house of a prostitute. It does not imply that he is a frequenter of such places. The fact that this Nemon is under the protection of Murgal is a more interesting aspect of this affair.’
They walked up to the door of the cabin and tapped upon its oak wood panels.
A moment later it opened and a woman stood regarding them with the same hostility on her features as that of the farmer’s wife.
She was a fleshy woman, in her fourth decade of life, with straw-coloured hair and ruddy features. Her face was heavy with make-up, the eyebrows dyed with berry juice and her lips crimsoned. She had been attractive once; but that must have been some years ago and now she had a voluptuousness that was gross rather than alluring. She examined them for a moment with her dark eyes and then focussed over their shoulder to where Bairsech, the wife of Ronan, still stood watching their every move with unconcealed curiosity.
‘Her nose grows longer each day,’ the woman muttered. ‘Bairsech is a name which suits her well.’ Fidelma suddenly realised that the name could be applied to a brawling woman. Then the woman stood aside and motioned them in. ‘Come inside and do not give her the pleasure of examining us further.’
They hitched their horses to a small post outside the building and entered.
It was a comfortable room but not inviting.
‘Are you Nemon?’
The woman nodded.
‘You are strangers to the valley.’ It was a statement not a question.
‘You do not know why we are here?’
‘I know nothing and care less. I care only for my comfort and my time is gauged in what I may profit from it.’
Fidelma turned to Eadulf.
‘Give Nemon a
Unwillingly Eadulf took the coin out of his purse and handed it to the woman. She almost snatched it out of his hand and examined it suspiciously.
‘Money is rare in this valley. We usually barter. But money is therefore thrice welcome.’
She assured herself that the coin was genuine before regarding them with a question on her features.
‘What is it you want? Not my services,’ she added, laughing lewdly, ‘that’s for sure.’
Fidelma shook her head, hiding her distaste at even the suggestion.
‘We want a few moments of your time, that’s all. And the answers to some questions.’
‘Very well. Ask your questions.’
