The Dove of Death

Fidelma exchanged a glance with Eadulf and then shrugged. They had no other choice.

They left the hut. Heraclius drew the door shut and turned the key in the lock. Making sure it was secure, he held the key firmly in his hand and motioned them back through the walled herb garden, then through the cooking area of the villa and into the main corridor, halting finally outside the room where Trifina had first received Fidelma. Heraclius addressed the warrior who stood on guard outside and the man knocked on the door. Heraclius disappeared inside.

The guard fixed them with a watchful glare, with his hand resting ready on his sword hilt.

‘What now?’ muttered Eadulf.

‘Now we will have to see what Trifina has to say,’ shrugged Fidelma. ‘There is no other course.’

In fact, it was only moments before the door opened and the young apothecary motioned them inside.

Trifina stood in front of the fire with a frown of annoyance on her face. She said something to Heraclius who gave a short bow towards her and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Trifina went to a table and poured red wine into a glass. She gazed at it thoughtfully for a moment and then held it out towards Fidelma with a look of interrogation. Fidelma shook her head. Eadulf, when it was offered to him, moved forward and took the glass. His thought was that someone who offers you wine is not going to kill you — at least, not immediately. Trifina poured another glass for herself and sat down, indicating with her free hand the chairs before her. Fidelma sank into the seat while Eadulf, feeling like a naughty child summoned before its parent, nervously seated himself.

‘So,’ Trifina said at last, shaking her head sadly, ‘what am I to do with you?’

‘It is not for me to advise you, lady,’ replied Fidelma softly.

Trifina actually chuckled. ‘Indeed not. Yet you are wandering round my villa, prying into things. I thought I made it clear that you are in territory that does not concern you.’

Fidelma decided to be blunt.

‘That depends what those things are. I told you that Riwanon asked me to investigate the mystery…’

‘The mystery of Abbot Maelcar’s death — which happened in Brilhag. Why are you really here?’

‘The location where a murder is committed does not imply that the murderer is to be found on the same spot,’ responded Fidelma.

‘That may be true,’ agreed Trifina, her voice tight. ‘I presume that you suspect me of somehow engineering the Abbot’s fate, even though I was not at Brilhag when he was killed?’

‘I do not accuse you. I simply do not like mysteries.’

‘Did you expect to find a solution in the workshop of Heraclius, perhaps? Heraclius is our apothecary and he has full permission to pursue his experiments in pursuit of his understanding of herbs and medicines.’

‘Earlier this afternoon I was seeking Fidelma,’ Eadulf interrupted, feeling he should justify himself. ‘By chance I happened to stroll through the walled garden and out to where this stone building is. I went quite innocently to examine it when I was knocked unconscious. Heraclius was nearby when I came to. I determined that Fidelma and I should investigate further.’

Trifina smiled cynically at him.

‘You are a truly loyal soul, Eadulf. This lady was nearly responsible for causing your death a few hours ago. Yet you rise from your sickbed to go sleuthing for her. And now you are claiming that Heraclius knocked you on the head, to…what? To stop you seeing into his workshop? Couldn’t he have asked you simply to leave?’

Eadulf thrust out his chin aggressively.

‘I hadn’t even seen inside it then. I was near it when I heard a shout and, looking below, I saw Iarnbud in a boat. That was when I was knocked on the head. Yet I am told you claim Iarnbud was not on this island.’

At the name of Iarnbud, Trifina set down her wine glass.

‘You saw Iarnbud?’ she demanded. A flush had come to her face.

‘He was alone in the sailboat that Fidelma and I followed from Brilhag. However, there was no sign of Iuna in it.’

Fidelma’s mouth tightened, and the line of Caesar as he crossed the Rubicon came into her mind. Alea iacta est. Truly, the die is cast. So she added: ‘I too saw Iarnbud — in this villa. Do you still deny he and Iuna are here?’

Trifina sat back and regarded them both with a long scrutiny.

‘I see.’ The words were spoken almost as a whisper. ‘So, Eadulf, you saw Iarnbud and, a moment later, you say that you were knocked out?’

‘As I said, Heraclius was standing near me when I came to. I presumed that he had knocked me out rather than let me see what was in the hut. That’s why I went back there with Fidelma.’

‘Did Heraclius admit that he did so?’ Trifina asked mildly.

‘Would he admit it if he had done so?’ Eadulf countered.

‘As I have pointed out, if he wanted to prevent you, all he had to do was tell you not to go there. After all, the door was locked, wasn’t it?’

Eadulf flushed, for it was almost word for word what Fidelma had remarked. He did not reply.

‘Surely a locked door should have been enough to tell you that your attentions were not wanted there? The place is Heraclius’ workshop where some of his mixtures might be dangerous if touched without supervision.’

‘What of Iarnbud?’ demanded Eadulf.

‘Iarnbud,’ repeated Trifina. There was a silence for a while before she spoke again, turning to Fidelma. ‘You seem to take this commission seriously, Fidelma — the one from Riwanon to find Abbot Maelcar’s assassin.’

‘I take all commissions seriously. I am a dálaigh…’ Fidelma searched for the right Latin word. ‘I am a jurisconsultus, a lawyer. This is my job.’

‘As I remarked before, I find it hard to accept that Riwanon would give such a task to a foreigner who does not speak our language or know our laws. But,’ Trifina held up her hand as Fidelma was about to speak, ‘I accept your word that this is what has been done. You seem also to believe that Abbot Maelcar’s assassin is connected with the attack on your ship.’

‘I do. And who or what is the Koulm an Maro — and why would Heraclius conclude we are spies of whoever it is?’

There was another pause.

‘I am going to be honest with you, Fidelma of Hibernia,’ Trifina said slowly, after she had taken a sip or two of wine. Then she glanced at Eadulf. ‘Honest with you both, that is.’

They waited patiently.

‘I admit that Iarnbud was here, but deny that Iuna came with him. I was aware that about two weeks ago, a ship flying the emblem of our family, the flag of the mac’htiern of Brilhag, started to conduct raids around this coast. Each raid became more audacious than the last. Those who saw this ship not only reported that it flew the flag bearing the white dove emblem, but that on its prow it had carved in wood the figure of a dove.’

‘That was the ship that attacked the Barnacle Goose,’ Eadulf confirmed.

‘Let me state clearly to you both, this ship is not under the authority of my father nor of any member of my family. If you believe that we are involved with this sea raider, then you are mistaken.’

Fidelma looked deeply into the eyes of Trifina and was impressed with the frankness she saw there.

‘Then why is there all this mystery?’ she asked. ‘Why do you behave as if you have something to hide?’

Trifina made a small cutting motion with her hand.

‘Whoever is behind these attacks is using our emblem purposely to bring discredit upon my family. There can be no other explanation. Some of the merchants and farmers who have suffered losses from these pirates are already stirring the countryside against us, poisoning the people’s minds against us.’

‘And what have you done to counter these stories?’ Eadulf asked.

‘It was not until yesterday that I heard about the details of the attack on your ship — that a prince of your country was murdered and that you had escaped. I then heard of the slaughter of Biscam and his men and I realised that things were becoming serious. There had been no significant casualties until this time. But, for the last few days, we have been trying to track down this ship that we have named Koulm ar Maro, the Dove of Death. Our flag with the dove symbolises peace, but this dove brings only death and destruction. The more attacks it makes bearing our family’s emblem, the more people suspect we are