without success. Clydog knows the forests of Ffynnon Druidion like the back of his hand.’
‘Gwlyddien had to send warriors? You are lord of Pen Caer. Why couldn’t you raise your own band of warriors to flush him out?’
Gwnda chuckled without humour. ‘If I searched all Pen Caer I doubt whether I could find a dozen trained warriors. Most of the young menfolk are already serving with the Lord Rhodri to protect our borders with Ceredigion.’
‘So, apart from this one attempt, nothing has been done about Clydog since?’
‘So long as Clydog does not strike at any of the major settlements of Pen Caer and confines himself to the highways, he is no great threat to the peace of the area.’
‘So your policy is to let Clydog alone and hope he lets you alone?’ Fidelma was disapproving. ‘What if he were responsible for Llanpadern?’
Gwnda started in astonishment. ‘Are you saying that it was not a Saxon raid? Are you saying Clydog was responsible for killing Father Clidro and the others? That is nonsense. What purpose would it serve?’
‘I am asking, what if he were responsible?’ she pressed.
‘Then I suppose that King Gwlyddien would have to raise men to go against him. Send warriors in such numbers that he would be flushed out. But it would take a fair number to comb the woods of Ffynnon Druidion, and the kingdom cannot spare many trained warriors. Not at this time.’
‘Cannot?’ Fidelma emphasised the word.
‘Artglys, the king of Ceredigion, is pressing on our borders, searching for weaknesses in the hope of taking over this land. Our borders are long and our warriors stretched to maintain the peace along them.’
Fidelma sat for a moment considering the information. ‘We know what Clydog is, but I would like to know who he is.’
Gwnda was puzzled. ‘Who?’
‘Surely this outlaw did not suddenly appear from nowhere?’
The lord of Pen Caer surprised them by nodding slowly. ‘That is precisely what he did.’
‘You mean that he is not a local man?’
‘Not so far as we know.’
‘If he is not from the area, how does he have such a good local knowledge that he can avoid the warriors of the king when they search for him?’ Eadulf asked.
Gwnda sniffed deprecatingly. ‘A good point, Brother Saxon. A good point. But no one who has seen Clydog has been able to identify him as being related to anyone in this area. Perhaps it is one of his men who has the local knowledge.’
Fidelma was disappointed. She had been sure that Clydog must have some local connection; a connection which she was hoping would link him to the mystery.
Buddog re-entered. ‘The baths are ready for our guests, lord,’ she announced. ‘Alas, we have no robes suitable for religious. However, if the sister and the brother will consent to put on ordinary garments for a day, we will wash their own robes and return them.’
Fidelma slowly rose. ‘That will be acceptable. Your hospitality is most welcome, Gwnda.’
As Buddog left the chieftain also rose, along with Eadulf. ‘It is my earnest hope that the affairs that have brought you here are speedily resolved,’ he said.
‘It is our hope also, Gwnda,’ Fidelma replied with the same solemnity. ‘However, it may take some time. You see. . Brother Meurig has been murdered.’
Eadulf had been waiting to see what dramatic moment Fidelma would choose to reveal the find in the forest.
The expression on Gwnda’s face changed only slowly. Then he shook himself like a shaggy dog. ‘Are you saying that Brother Meurig is dead?’
‘His body lies in the forest,’ confirmed Fidelma.
Gwnda let out a long, whistling sigh. ‘Murdered, you say? Why did you not tell me immediately?’
‘You said that you did not know where Brother Meurig had gone or when he would return. What could you have told me if you had known before?’
‘Nothing, but. .’
‘But?’
‘Only that his death hangs heavily on my conscience. Perhaps I should have warned him more insistently before he left. I might have prevented this catastrophe.’
Fidelma exchanged a quick glance with Eadulf. ‘Warned him? Prevented his murder? It sounds as though you knew far more than you have revealed to us about where Brother Meurig’s investigation was leading?’
‘It’s not that.’
‘Not that? You maintain that you did not know where he was going but that you could have warned him not to go and thus prevented his murder?’ There was a cynical tone in Fidelma’s voice.
Gwnda’s expression was defensive. ‘I might have prevented it,’ he insisted. ‘I’d better take some men to the woodsman’s hut and retrieve Brother Meurig’s body.’
‘Before you go, I think that you should explain,’ Fidelma said quietly.
‘Explain? When Brother Meurig left here, I could have demanded that he go alone, that’s all.’
‘Go alone?’ Fidelma frowned quickly. ‘You mean he left here in the company of someone else?’
‘Isn’t that what I am telling you?’
Fidelma let out a sharp breath of exasperation. ‘In the name of the Holy Saints, man, tell us in whose company Brother Meurig left and why you think that person was responsible for his death?’
‘He left with Mair’s killer, that’s who.’
‘Mair’s killer?’ echoed Eadulf.
‘The young boy, Idwal. He left with Idwal.’
An hour later Fidelma and Eadulf had emerged from their baths both refreshed and wearing more comfortable clothing. Buddog informed them that Gwnda was waiting in the main hall and a meal had been prepared for them.
It was gloomy and dark now and Fidelma realised that it would soon be evening, for autumnal darkness descended early.
Gwnda was, indeed, waiting for them.
‘I have sent two of my best huntsmen and trackers to see if they can pick up signs of Idwal,’ he reported. ‘But he will have most of this day’s start on us and we will not be able to set out in pursuit before tomorrow’s first light. In death, it seems, Brother Meurig has proved the guilt of the boy, at least.’
Fidelma admonished him with a look. ‘That the boy left with Brother Meurig is not certain proof of his guilt either in Mair’s case or in the death of Meurig.’
Gwnda stared at her for a moment and then chuckled grimly. ‘Surely, Sister, you can entertain no doubt about the boy’s guilt now?’
‘There are questions to be asked still. But you are right, Idwal must be found. I hope that the men you sent out are instructed not to harm him but to bring him back here if they find him?’
‘They know that they are tracking a killer. They will act accordingly,’ replied Gwnda.
‘Brother Meurig was a
Gwnda was silent for a moment. The corners of his mouth turned down as he pressed his mouth tight shut for a moment. ‘By the Holy Cross, you are not!’ he finally responded with firmness.
Fidelma returned his look without flinching. ‘Do you challenge my authority?’ Her voice was soft. Eadulf knew that it was when she spoke softly that she was at her most dangerous.
‘You have no authority here. Not in this matter, anyway. ’
Fidelma stiffened. ‘I have the authority of King Gwlyddien of Dyfed,’ she retorted.
‘No you do not.’
Fidelma’s eyes widened in disbelief. ‘Brother Meurig told you so when we arrived. You accepted it then.’
Gwnda shook his head. ‘King Gwlyddien authorised you only to investigate the disappearance of the
