Eadulf stifled the refusal that came to his mind because something else occurred to him. Perhaps he could find out more about these people, the strange woman who led them and the strength of her army, if he did not make an immediate rejection of the offer.
‘You cannot expect me to abandon all I believe in just like that,’ he countered. ‘Tell me more of why you fight for this woman.’
‘The
‘Yes. What is her name?’
‘She is just the leader, the Wise One. A priestess of the god Crom.’
‘So she has no name?’
‘None that dare be spoken.’
‘And she believes in this old god?’
‘She believes that the Christians are just a new empire spreading from Rome as they once spread before; she believes that they are destroying the old ways and customs just as the Romans tried once before to make everyone bow down to their ways and government.’
‘And that is why she fights?’
‘That is why.’
‘But the message of Christ is peace,’ pointed out Eadulf.
Beorhtric laughed as if he found the idea uproarious. ‘Peace among those who fall under the Roman heel? The real rulers of Rome recognise no peace. While they conquer, they preach that the conquered should have poverty of spirit. They are thus able to oppress them, for when men are of poor spirit then the proud and haughty can easily rule them. Oh yes, Eadulf, I know something of the religion you still uphold. “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven”. That’s what is taught, eh?
‘And what else do they teach?’ he went on, goading Eadulf. ‘“Him that takes away your cloak, do not forbid him to take your coat also. Give to every man that asks something from you and of him that takes away your goods do not make protest”. And if physical violence is used against you, why, “if you are struck on the one cheek, turn the other so they can strike you again”!’
Beorhtric burst out laughing. ‘This is the religion that slave-masters teach to slaves, the better that they might enslave them.’
Eadulf stirred uneasily, for Beorhtric had certainly homed in on what he had always seen as the weakness of the new philosophy.
He and Fidelma had spent much time discussing such matters and they had always felt that resistance to wrong and the practice of moral right and self-reliance was the better course. But it was surely contrary to the teachings of the poverty of spirit that was claimed to be a virtue?
‘And does this Crom uphold such virtues?’ he demanded. ‘I heard that this idol was some aberration of the Old Faith of Éireann whose priests demanded human sacrifices to appease their appetites.’
Beorhtric made a dismissive gesture as if it was of no consequence. ‘Crom? That is for the people of this land. I have never foresworn Woden. And if Woden is using Crom to overthrow the New Faith, then so be it. Crom only demands the sacrifices of his enemies. He demands, moreover, that people stand up against the Christians who would oppress them by stealth. He commands us to drive the tide of Roman cunning back into the sea as the old Romans were driven back before.’
Eadulf shook his head sadly at the light of fanaticism in Beorhtric’s face.
‘And this is the reason for what is happening here?’
‘It is a great cause. It is the freedom of people from the new oppression. Sadly, our Saxon brethren have been fooled into accepting these insidious ideas. Here we might win and then be able to bring our army back to our homelands to reconvert our people to the true ways and mend the harm that has been done.’
‘To return to what?’ demanded Eadulf. ‘Was life so good when we sacrificed to the gods, when we left people with no hope but the utter void that follows death?’
‘We had the choice,’ Beorhtric said fiercely, ‘to die with weapon in hand and the name of Woden on our lips so that we might live again in the Hall of Heroes.’
‘And how many could hope for such a death, a futile death at that?’
For a moment, Beorhtric’s eyes blazed. Then he said slowly: ‘You are playing for time with me, Eadulf. I give you a final chance. Join us now. Tell us where Fidelma of Cashel is. Tell us what is happening at Tara and who is coming against us. If you do, you will live and the world will be yours. Refuse, and you will die a death at the next festival to Crom, a death in flames and so horrible that even you will cry out to Crom for mercy with your last breath.’
Eadulf had sat back. He glanced down at the mug that he still held in his hand. Now, with a quick movement, he threw its contents over the face of the Saxon warrior.
With an oath, Beorhtric sprang up and drew his sword in one swift motion. The blade was raised. Another moment and it would have sliced into Eadulf.
‘Hold!’ snapped a voice.
For a moment everything seemed frozen in time and space. Then slowly Beorhtric lowered his sword and sheathed it. Eadulf, transfixed in his seat in the chair, relaxed and began to breathe again.
The woman known as the
‘I was right about you, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham. For a Christian you display a remarkable courage. I did not think that they would break you and cause you to betray your beliefs or Fidelma of Cashel.’ She glanced at the Saxon warrior. ‘You see, Beorhtric? I know men. I knew he would not accept your offer to join us. No matter. My daughter will soon send us word about what is happening in Tara. Now take him back and ensure that he is confined properly. No harm must come to him before the time is right and we present him to Crom Cróich.’
Sullenly, Beorhtric moved forward and yanked Eadulf roughly from the chair.
The woman smiled almost encouragingly at Eadulf. ‘It is good, my Saxon friend,’ she said softly. ‘If you were a coward, you would not make a fitting sacrifice to Crom.’
Then Beorhtric was hauling him out of the tent back to the stone prison to rejoin Bishop Luachan.
Ardgal found Fidelma pacing in the refectory of the abbey. He paused nervously at the door.
‘Bad news, lady,’ he blurted out.
Fidelma stood, the coldness clutching her heart. ‘Eadulf has been found?’ she asked hoarsely.
‘No, lady. But my men have found the body of Brother Manchán. He had been run through with a sword. There were the tracks of many horses … ’
‘But no sign of Eadulf?’
‘No sign of anyone else but the slain brother.’
‘What did your trackers tell you?’
‘They saw traces of a heavy-laden horse.’
‘Eadulf and Brother Manchán were riding one horse.’
Ardgal nodded and continued: ‘They think a number of riders were lying in wait for them and surrounded them. That was where Brother Manchán was killed. Then the horses moved off. There was no longer any sign of one horse being heavier than the others.’
‘So they took Eadulf captive?’ she asked hopefully.
‘There is nothing to suggest otherwise, lady.’
‘Which way did they go?’
‘My trackers say they went north into the hill country. They followed the trail as far as they could without endangering themselves — up to within sight of Sliabh na Callaigh.’
‘The Hag’s Mountain? What is that?’
‘It is the highest hill in these parts, lady. And one which the old pagans declared as sacred. There are buildings of great antiquity on it and some travellers have said that there have been campfires and bands of riders seen there recently. It accords with what we have heard before — that this is probably where the
‘Then this is where we shall go to confront them,’ Fidelma said decisively. ‘We must follow and rescue
