Dancing With Demons

‘Well, a Christian prisoner. You are welcome, my friend, welcome to Sliabh na Caillaigh.’

‘The Mountain of the Hag?’ Eadulf was frowning. He seemed to have heard the name before.

‘You are a Saxon by your accent,’ she observed.

‘I am Eadulf, of Seaxmund’s Ham in the land of the South Folk,’ he replied proudly. ‘Who are you?’

The woman laughed without humour.

‘That is not for strangers to know, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham in the land of the South Folk,’ she replied, mimicking his accent.

The woman was accompanied by several warriors. One of her entourage a fair-haired man, seemed familiar to Eadulf and he struggled to think where he had seen the man before. He found it curious that there were several things here that seemed known to him: the ornament at the woman’s neck, her features — and now the face of this warrior.

Then the leader of his captors moved forward and addressed the woman, but with bowed head.

‘Ceannard, this man claims to be husband to Fidelma of Cashel. We have heard that there was a female and male religious accompanied by two southern warriors at Tara recently.’

‘Is this true?’ demanded the woman, staring at Eadulf with sudden interest.

Eadulf smiled. ‘Perhaps that is not for you to know,’ he replied, with an attempt to mimic her.

The black-bearded warrior at his side struck him with the flat of his sword and Eadulf staggered a pace, biting his lip to stop from uttering a sound at the pain.

The woman turned behind her and called to one of the warriors nearby. ‘Come forth and see if you recognise this man.’

The warrior came forward to examine him.

‘That is the man called Brother Eadulf,’ he confirmed.

Eadulf immediately recognised Cuan, the short, dark warrior of the Fianna who had fled from Tara.

‘He was in the company of Fidelma of Cashel who was sent for to investigate Sechnussach’s death,’ the man continued. ‘They were accompanied by two warriors of the Nasc Niadh, the golden collar, in the service of the King of Muman. I saw them all at Tara.’

‘They will be searching for me even now,’ Eadulf defiantly, ‘as they are searching for you, Cuan. I am told the Fianna dislike deserters and traitors and have ways of dealing with them.’

‘Their search will be in vain,’ snapped Cuan, ‘and you will be dead before they find you.’ He raised his sword threateningly but the woman stayed him with a sharp command.

‘Do not harm him lest you incur my displeasure, Cuan. And do not underestimate this man’s companion,’ she rebuked. ‘I have heard of Fidelma of Cashel. She is very clever and in other circumstances I wouldwelcome her to my homestead. She is a defender of many of the old ways against these pernicious ideas that are being spread through these lands. She is also an advocate of the ancient laws and that makes a worthy enemy.’

Cuan was immediately obeisant.

‘Where is she now?’ demanded the woman of Eadulf.

As Eadulf set his jaw firmly, his black-beareded captor moved forward and said confidently, ‘Ceannard, I will send two of my men to find out.’

The woman smiled thinly at him. ‘You mean that you don’t know already?’ she sneered.

‘We came upon the Saxon on the track to Delbna Mór. He was travelling with a survivor from Fobhair. We killed the other man. They rode with no one else.’

This was greeted with a frown.

‘You allowed someone from Fobhair to survive?’ There was a threat in her voice.

The man’s face paled considerably. ‘But I killed him when I found him.’

‘How many others didn’t you find, who escaped from Fobhair? And he was travelling with this Saxon — travelling to Delbna Mór? Did you not work out what that means!’

The questions were asked in an icy tone.

The leader of the raiders looked confused.

‘I will tell you, you son of a pig. It means that the Saxon had already passed through Fobhair and was returning to Delbna Mór. It may also mean that Fidelma of Cashel was with him and may even now be on her way to Tara to raise the Fianna.’ She turned to Eadulf. ‘Is that so, Saxon? Were you travelling with Fidelma of Cashel?’

Eadulf simply shrugged.

‘I’ll beat the truth out of him, ceannard,’ swore the black-bearded warrior.

‘Oaf! You will never beat anything out of a man like this. You have little judgement of men. You can rip this one apart but he is stubborn. If he does not want to tell you, he will not tell you.’ The woman raised her voice. ‘Ensure that all our lookouts are doubled from now on. You will answer to me later. Meanwhile, take the Saxon and put him with the old man. A Saxon Christian will be a suitable gift for the Great One when the time comes.’

The man turned meekly away with a hand raised to his forehead inacknowledgement. Then he gestured to two of the warriors, who seized Eadulf with rough hands. He was hauled and pushed once more towards a strange, grey stone building which looked like one half of a great scallop shell, lying flat on the ground. There were several other similar constructions in the vicinity, but this was by far the largest. As he was marched towards it, Eadulf noticed some more recent wooden constructions nearby — pens for horses and other animals. He estimated that there must be at least a hundred or more fighting men and their women encamped on the hill and they held a good defensive position.

He gave an inward sigh. What was he thinking about, assessing their defences when there was no one who was going to storm this place to rescue him? He had not reached Delbna Mór to warn Brother Céin, let alone Tara. He wondered whether Fidelma had realised yet that the raiders had doubled back. He had to face the fact that he was on his own.

The two warriors shoved him towards an entrance in the stone construction, which was revealed when a wicker gateway was swung aside. It was a small, narrow passage that seemed to lead into the bowels of the earth like the entrance to a tomb.

One of the men pointed along it. ‘Down there, Saxon!’

Eadulf hung back, warily examining the darkness.

‘Where does it lead?’ he demanded.

The man sniggered and then struck him viciously across the face. Eadulf saw the blow coming and leaned backwards to defuse the force but it stung nevertheless.

‘You do not ask questions. Get down in there.’

Eadulf had no option but to obey. He bent his head and moved along into the passage in a crouching position. The wicker gate swung shut behind him. He paused, expecting to be shrouded in blackness, but there was a flickering light some distance ahead at what was, presumably, the end of the passage. Cautiously he began to crawl forward. The passage was cold but it was dry and the ground easy underfoot. He had the light to guide him and it was not long before he found himself in the interior of the manmade structure.

The first thing he saw was an elderly man squatting on the floor with an oil lamp on one side of him and a clay jug on the other.

The man looked up as Eadulf emerged into the cavern. Despite his white hair and haggard features, he had a striking presence. Even with the shadows, Eadulf saw that he had once been handsome; his eyes werestill dark and his gaze penetrating. The eyes widened a little as he took in Eadulf’s clothing and tonsure.

‘And who might you be?’ he asked, not moving.

‘Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham,’ replied Eadulf, staring around the cavelike room in which he found himself. The light showed the interior of it to be covered in intricate carvings, which seemed vaguely familiar. He realised they were like the carvings he had seen in the man-made cave near the Abbey of Delbna Mór.

‘I welcome you, Brother Saxon. You will overlook the fact that I cannot rise. I feel my ankle was broken or sprained when they captured me.’

At once, Eadulf was concerned and bent to the old man, examining his puffy and swollen ankle by the faint light. He touched it gently.

‘You have some knowledge of the physician’s art?’ asked the old man.

‘I studied at Tuam Brecain,’ replied Eadulf, before asking the man to attempt some movement on the