Dancing With Demons

was journeying to Tara. He welcomed the group with courtesy and offered lavish hospitality.

At the end of a third day’s easy ride, they came to the great abbey of the Blessed Brigid at Cill Dara, the church of the oaks. It was a conhospitae, a mixed religious house, where Fidelma had first entered the religious. Abbess Ita, whose behaviour had caused Fidelma to leave the abbey, was no longer there.² The new abbess was called Luan; she had been a contemporary of Fidelma’s and seemed pleased to see her, greeting her like an old friend and making them all welcome. Fortified once more by a good night’s sleep and food, and with their horses well cared for and rested, they set out again. On that fourth day, they were moving due north and crossing into the High King’s own territory of the ‘Middle Kingdom’ — Midhe.

Fidelma had made this journey to Tara many times and so she knew they were entering the Magh Nuada, the Plain of Nuada. The highway crossed the plain, passing through areas of woodland that were barely inhabited. There was a small church with its own hostel by the roadside in one stretch of woodland, and Fidelma had decided that they would spend their final night there before moving on to Tara. The plain was named after Nuada Necht, of whom there were many confusing legends.Some claimed he was a powerful god of the ancients and husband to the goddess Bóinn, who gave her name to the great river that ran close by. Others dismissed him as merely a pagan king.

The sun was low in the sky when Caol called from behind them: ‘Smoke, lady! There’s smoke ahead.’

Fidelma drew rein, as did the rest of the band. Beyond the border of trees that lay ahead of them rose a dark column of smoke.

‘That’s no hearth fire,’ muttered Eadulf. ‘It is much larger. Can it be that the trees have caught alight?’

‘A winter fire among the forests is no natural phenomenon, Brother Eadulf,’ replied Gormán. ‘It looks more like-’

‘There is a church and a habitation in that direction,’ interrupted Fidelma. ‘I know it well, for I have stayed there many a time on this road. That is where I meant us to stay this night. Come!’ She dug her heels into her mount and sent it speeding down the road, heedless of danger.

Caol’s protest was lost but he paused only a second before racing after her, drawing his sword at the same time. Gormán was following and, with a groan, Eadulf also urged his own mount after them.

With Fidelma leading, the band of riders galloped swiftly along the road through the small skirting of woodland. They could smell the acrid stench of the smouldering wood before they came into the clearing, where the blackened remains of a small wooden church still poured smoke and ash into the air. Nearby, other outbuildings that Fidelma recalled as a cowshed and pigpen and a guesthouse were already so much charcoal. Remains of belongings — torn pages of books, clothing and domestic items lay in profusion around the clearing. Two figures lay outstretched on the ground before the buildings. Both wore the woollen habits of religieux; these were stained with blood.

Caol cried: ‘Wait, lady!’ as Fidelma made to dismount. He looked carefully around, head to one side, listening. Then he slid from his horse, sword still in his hand, explaining: ‘Whoever did this thing may still be lingering nearby.’

He walked across to one of the bodies but did not even bother to bend down to check the first, shook his head to indicate that the religieux was beyond hope. Then he moved on to the second. Here he bent down quickly and raised the man’s head.

‘This one lives!’ he called excitedly.

Eadulf, who knew something of medicine, dismounted and went to kneel at the side of the man. A brief glance, and he shook his head. Theman might still live, but not for long. Blood was pouring from a deep gash in his chest.

‘Pass me the water,’ he instructed Caol. ‘It will not harm him for he has not long.’

He allowed the dying religieux to swallow a gasping mouthful.

‘Who did this thing, my friend?’ he demanded.

The man’s eyes flickered open and stared up, dilating orbs of pain. He tried to form words but could not find breath to make the sound.

‘Who is responsible?’ insisted Eadulf, bending so that his ear almost touched the man’s lips. He caught a sound and then heard a rattle of breath. The man was dead. He laid him gently back on the ground and stood up.

‘Did he answer your question?’ Fidelma asked, still seated on horseback with Gormán, sword defensively drawn and on the alert, at her side.

Eadulf shrugged. ‘A single word … something about blame, I think. Perhaps he meant that he was to blame. I don’t understand.’

Caol looked around vigilantly. ‘We can do nothing here, lady, and this could be a dangerous place to linger in.’

‘This was where I meant us to stay this night.’ Fidelma glanced anxiously at the darkening sky. ‘It will be dusk before long.’

‘I would venture that this would not be the best place to spend a winter’s night, lady, for there is no shelter now.’ Caol looked at the smoking buildings. ‘And whoever did this might well return. I’d rather be in the open country than surrounded by woods.’

‘I remember that there is an inn further along the road,’ Fidelma said tiredly. ‘About half an hour’s ride from here. If it still stands, we can seek shelter there.’

Eadulf gestured at the two bodies. ‘Should we not bury them?’

‘It would be dark before we could do so, my friend,’ Caol replied practically. ‘It is my duty to protect my King’s sister and you, her husband. We must ride together now.’

As if joining in at an appropriate moment to remind them of the dangers, a wolf began to howl in the gathering dusk.

Caol frowned. ‘We will inform the innkeeper and ask him to request his chieftain to send men back here when it is daylight.’

‘There might not be much left to bury if we leave these poor souls exposed overnight,’ Eadulf commented.

‘The least we can do is remove the bodies to a more sheltered spot,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘There was an uaimha, as I recall, near that buildingwhere they stored food.’ She indicated the smouldering ruins that had once been the guesthouse.

‘A cave?’ asked Eadulf, trying to translate the word uaimha.

‘An artificially made underground chamber,’ explained Fidelma.

Caol walked across and peered among the debris. It took a few moments to locate the entrance into the souterrain, which was a common method of storing food and provisions in a cooler temperature. Eadulf and Gormán lent a hand to carrying the bodies of the slain religieux to the chamber and depositing them inside, securing it against the attentions of preying animals.

Fidelma drew a sigh and glanced apprehensively at the approaching dark. ‘At least they will be safe awhile,’ she said. ‘May God have mercy on their souls. Now, we must try to reach the inn before nightfall.’

They remounted and resumed their journey along the road. Fidelma led them in a canter, for the sooner they reached the warmth and safety of the inn the better. Across the plain, the howling of wolves echoed distantly in the gathering dusk.

By the time they saw the light of the inn, after rounding a bend as the road wound over the shoulder of a hill, night had already fallen. At least the light was welcoming. All inns and hostels had a lantern raised at night on a tall pole set on the faithche, the area just outside the entrance to the inn, to guide travellers to it from a distance. It was with some relief that they trotted into the yard, the sound of their arrival disturbing a sleepy cockerel that set up an indignant cry which seemed to agitate the brooding hens. The door opened and a thickset man emerged and surveyed the visitors with an appraising glance before turning and calling to someone inside the inn. Then he took a step forward.

‘Welcome, strangers. You are late abroad. Do you seek shelter for the night?’

Fidelma dismounted as two young men appeared at his side. ‘We do, indeed,’ she replied. ‘But first water to bathe after our travel and food to eat.’

‘Then enter and be comfortable.’

The others also slid wearily from their mounts and took their saddlebags, allowing the two young men to