then Idwal has had to earn a living as an itinerant shepherd.’
‘I’ll not deny that the boy has a fairly gentle nature,’ agreed Goff. ‘There is no denying that. He would weep every time one of his lambs died. But who knows what provoked him? We all have the instinct to kill when presented with the right circumstances, and the boy was deep. He kept his thoughts to himself. Who knew what angers lay beneath his quiet exterior?’
‘So you believe that he is guilty?’ asked Eadulf.
‘I believe what I am told by men whose opinions I respect.’
‘And who is it that you respect who told you Idwal was guilty?’ Fidelma asked sharply.
‘Why, Iestyn of Llanwnda, of course.’
Fidelma saw Rhonwen screw her features into a brief expression of dislike.
‘You do not think much of Iestyn, do you?’
Goff’s wife made her views clear. ‘When I think of him throwing that young boy out to fend for himself. . and now he has the gall to level the finger of blame.’
Goff tried to defend his opinion. ‘Iestyn has been a good friend to me. And perhaps he was right to throw the boy out years ago. Perhaps he saw what was coming.’
‘I know this is a small community, but when did you speak with Iestyn on this matter?’ Fidelma probed.
‘A day or so ago. He came by with a cart that needed a repair.’
‘I thought he was a friend of Iorwerth. Surely Iorwerth was closer at hand and would have been able to mend his cart?’
‘What my husband means,’ sniffed Rhonwen, ‘is that Iestyn was delivering a cartload of hides to a trader near here when his cart broke. Easier to call here than drag it all the way back to Llanwnda.’
‘I understand. So Iestyn was the one who told you what had happened and said that Idwal was guilty.’
‘He was,’ said Goff, rising abruptly. ‘And now, pleasant though it is to gossip, I have my forge to get back to.’
Fidelma stood up and Eadulf followed reluctantly. She knew when she had been dismissed.
‘We have a journey to complete. But let me ask one more question before we depart.’
Goff made a gesture which seemed to indicate the invitation to put the question.
‘You say that this is a small community and everyone knows one another?’
Rhonwen was beginning to clear the remains of the meal from the table. She smiled. ‘Are you seeking information about someone?’
‘I am. What can you tell me about a man who calls himself Clydog Cacynen or another who goes by the name of Corryn?’
The jug which Rhonwen had been holding fell to the floor and shattered into a number of pieces, allowing the little remaining mead to splash over the wooden boards. Goff moved forward, frowning, as Rhonwen began to apologise nervously and start picking up the pieces.
‘How did you come across the name of Clydog?’ he demanded.
‘We heard that there was an outlaw in this area and were warned to be careful of him,’ she lied easily. ‘I simply wanted to know who he was.’
‘If you want to ask about him, ask Father Clidro. He once tried to negotiate a peace with him.’
‘But Father Clidro-’ began Eadulf.
‘Father Clidro, as you will recall, is no longer at Llanpadern nor is any of his community,’ interrupted Fidelma quickly, with a warning glance at Eadulf.
‘Then we can answer no more questions,’ Goff said firmly. ‘I would merely add my voice to those you have heard already and urge you to avoid meeting with Clydog. He is a scourge on our people. He has sharp ears and punishes swiftly. We will say no more. I give you God’s speed on your journey.’
His expression was resolute. It was clear that his wife was upset at the mention of Clydog but also clear that Fidelma and Eadulf had outstayed their welcome at Llanferran.
Goff refused payment for the hospitality that he had provided, muttering the usual formula that prayers offered up by the religious on behalf of his wife and himself were worth more than gold or silver. Fidelma and Eadulf responded with the usual blessing. But there was an emptiness about the ritual; it was performed without feeling.
As soon as it was over, Fidelma and Eadulf retrieved their horses from Dewi at the forge and took the trail which the youth indicated as leading to Llanwnda.
‘Curious,’ observed Eadulf, after they had travelled without speaking for a while.
Fidelma, immersed in her own thoughts, glanced absently at him. ‘What?’
‘Remember Rhonwen’s reaction when you asked about Clydog? The smith also seem scared to death of the man.’
‘With cause, no doubt,’ she agreed. ‘Unfortunately, we can no longer ask Father Clidro about him. From the look on Rhonwen’s face, I suspect that Clydog is not beyond rape as well as pillage.’
‘Short of being able to ask Clydog, which I do not propose doing,’ responded Eadulf in grim amusement, ‘I think we will not be able to resolve that mystery. However, so far as the disappearance of the brethren of Llanpadern is concerned, I think we may now offer an explanation to Gwlyddien, as much as I am embarrassed by it.’
Fidelma answered with a short laugh. ‘We may offer an explanation, but is it the right one? Come, let me hear your version.’
Eadulf look slightly pained at her sceptical response. ‘My explanation is the same as I offered before.’
Fidelma was still smiling softly. ‘And that is. .?’
‘I do not make excuses for my people, but you know that many Saxon ships raid the coast for plunder and slaves. A Hwicce ship landed here, raided the community at Llanpadern. In the raid, one of them was killed. . the man we found in the tomb. The raiders then marched their captives back to their ship. Something happened when they reached the cliff overlooking the ship. Perhaps an attempt to escape. Seven were cut down. The evidence of Hwicce weapons and a shield shows who did it.’
Fidelma glanced at Eadulf without approval. ‘It is a good theory,’ she admitted.
Eadulf frowned in annoyance. ‘Theory? You do not accept it?’
She smiled softly. ‘Not in the form in which you give it. You forget that Father Clidro was not killed at the time of this attack. His blood was freshly spilt when we found him.’
‘I had forgotten.’ Eadulf looked disappointed.
‘I think you may well be right in certain matters. A Saxon ship. . I would not know whether it was from this strange kingdom you mention — the Who-ekka?’ She forced her tongue over the unfamiliar syllables. ‘But if, as Goff said, a Saxon ship did anchor off shore here, then I suspect they did play a part in whatever happened at Llanpadern.’
‘But the rest must follow,’ protested Eadulf.
‘The facts do not support what you have said. Forget that you are a Saxon.’
Momentarily Eadulf’s features broke into a humorous grin. ‘That is a difficult thing to do in this land where I am constantly reminded of it,’ he observed wryly.
‘In any raid by Saxons on a community — and we have had many such raids in Laigin and Muman so we know of them at first hand — what usually happens?’
Eadulf pursed his lips to give her question some thought.
‘What happens is that Saxons burn and destroy, carrying off plunder,’ went on Fidelma, without waiting for him to answer. ‘They take young men and girls as slaves, and kill the rest. Where is the evidence that such a raid was carried out at Llanpadern?’
‘Father Clidro was-’
‘Father Clidro was flogged, taken to the barn and hanged. He was not struck down by sword or spear. But his body does not appear there until well after the Saxon ship has left. Where has he been during the last few days?’
Eadulf had considered the anomaly. Her reasoning had not been entirely lost on him. He had been worrying about it but had no logical explanation.
‘But what of the slaughter of the seven brothers on the foreshore? What of that?’ he protested.
‘That is a singular event, Eadulf. Consider it. Most of them were killed by a sword blow from behind. A blow
