‘Did Agdae return here after he had sought help at the rath?’
‘No, sister,’ the man replied immediately. ‘He left Crítán and my friend and me to take down the body and transport it back to Muadnat’s farm. But I think he rode off directly in search of Archú.’
Fidelma groaned a little.
‘Did you say that you were also a kinsman of Muadnat?’ she asked, recovering her poise.
The man nodded.
‘I am. But then so are most of the people in this valley, including the tanist.’
‘If Muadnat has so many cousins, why does he hold one cousin, young Archú, in such low esteem?’
The reply was without hesitation.
‘He hated Archú’s father, a foreigner. Muadnat felt thatArtgal, Archú’s father, had no right to steal the affections of his kinswoman, Suanach.’
‘Steal the affections?’ Fidelma pulled a face. ‘That is an interesting turn of phrase. From whom were Suanach’s affections supposed to have been stolen? It implies that the woman was an unwilling partner in the relationship. Was she so unwilling?’
The man looked uncomfortable.
‘Muadnat had arranged a marriage to Agdae. But Suanach did not want to marry him. No, in fact Suanach was very much in love with Archu’s father Artgal.’
‘So the fault of the dispute lay with Muadnat’s own distorted view of the relationship?’
‘I suppose so.’ The man was reluctant to go further. ‘It is best not to speak ill of the dead.’
‘Then let us speak of the living. Let us speak of Archú and Agdae. Let us help to prevent injustice to the living,’ replied Fidelma.
‘Has the dislike of the father been passed on to the son?’ Eadulf asked curiously. ‘Is that it? Is Archú suffering for Muadnat’s dislike of his father? If so, that is an unjust attitude.’
The farm hand looked uncomfortable.
‘There is probably a great injustice here but no reason for Archú to kill Muadnat,’ the man replied stubbornly.
‘Are you so sure that he did so?’
‘Agdae said as much.’
‘Does that make Agdae’s story true? Agdae, you have just told us, has as much cause to hate Archú, if not more cause, than Muadnat.’
‘Agdae is also the adopted son of Muadnat, not just his nephew. Should he not know the truth?’
‘The adopted son?’ Fidelma was intrigued. ‘So Muadnat has no wife or children of his own?’
‘None. None that I know of. Agdae was a nephew. But Muadnat raised him from childhood.’
‘Agdae stands to inherit Muadnat’s farmstead?’
‘I suppose so.’
Fidelma turned towards her horse, calling over her shoulder as she went.
‘You may take the body back to Muadnat’s farm. I have done now. If you see Agdae before I do, warn him against any action which will bring down the displeasure of the law upon him. You and he will know what I mean.’
Eadulf followed her into the saddle and did not speak until they began to move down the hill.
‘Where now?’
‘To Archú’s farmstead, of course.’
‘But do you think that this death is connected with those of Eber and Teafa?’
‘It seems extraordinary that this pleasant valley of Araglin, which appears not to have boasted a suspicious death within years, in just a matter of days witnesses several such violent deaths. We have raids on farmsteads that were previously safe and well protected. We have cattle run off, though, curiously, only a few cattle at a time. But, above all, the deaths of Eber, Teafa, Muadnat and a strange man whom we cannot identify, cannot all be merely coincidence. I confess, Eadulf, I am no great believer in coincidence. I prefer to examine the facts and only if it is proved to be coincidence beyond any shadow of doubt will I believe it as such.’
She paused and then kicked her horse into a canter.
‘We need to get to Archú’s quickly in case Agdae is really intent on seeking vengeance on the boy.’
Eadulf had difficulty keeping up with Fidelma for she was an excellent horsewoman. Fidelma had a good memory for places and there was no hesitation as she led the way along the river, passing the cabin of the prostitute, Clídna, and began to climb along the snaking track through the rounded hills towards the unusual L-shaped valley of the Black Marsh which Muadnat had dominated for so long.
Fidelma had been riding since she could remember. When she rode it was as if the horse became a mere appendage of her body and will, moving to her orders almost as the thought originated, responding to her slightest pressure. Fidelma loved the freedom that it brought her. Leaning slightly forward in the saddle, the breeze tugging at her hair, the road rising with her, the country unrolling with speed that sent a thrill through her. The sound of the horse’s pounding hooves echoed the rhythms in her body, lulling her into a gentle meditative state.
For a while it was as if she had become divorced from the world of petty human vindictiveness; as if she had become part of nature, breathing the warmth of the spring air, scenting the smells of the woods and fields, feeling the gentle heat of the sun. She almost closed her eyes in the sheer pleasure of sensual relish.
Then she roused herself almost with a sense of guilt.
People were dead and she had a duty to discover why they were so and who was responsible.
Her eyes flicked open. She became aware of two riders on the road ahead of them. She immediately recognised Dubán and one of his men.
She drew rein and awaited them. Eadulf halted by her side. She was about to speak when Dubán cut her short.
‘I have already heard the news, sister. Crón sent me word. I have left a couple of my men with Archú and Scoth. They refuse to leave their farmstead. But they are in safe hands.’
‘You have not seen Agdae then? I was told that he was riding this way.’
Dubán shook his head.
‘I doubt whether he will try to harm Archú knowing that my men are with him. It is probably a passion which will eventually ebb. He will come to his senses and realise that Archú is not responsible for the death of Muadnat.’
Fidelma looked slightly puzzled.
‘You seem so sure? I am only prepared to say that I think it unlikely that Archú killed Muadnat.’
‘I know he did not,’ replied Dubán solemnly.
Fidelma’s eyebrow involuntarily arched.
‘You know?’
‘Surely. That is easy. Last night I left two of my men with Archú and Scoth. They are witnesses to the fact that neither left the farm at all.’
Fidelma smiled contritely.
‘How stupid of me not to remember that. Well, at least that saves time in trying to prove Archú’s innocence. But we must now discover who is guilty.’
‘I am on my way back to the rath,’ Dubán said. ‘I am surprised that Crítán is not escorting you. He is supposed to be in charge of the guards this morning.’
Briefly, Fidelma told him what had happened. Dubán did not appear unduly surprised.
‘I suppose I knew that the lad did not have the true spirit of a warrior. He had ambition without dedication.’
‘The trouble is that he has a warrior’s skills and little of a warrior’s morality. He is like an arrow that has been loosed from the bow but with no controlling flights,’ Fidelma said.
‘I understand that well enough, sister. I am not yet in my dotage and realise that he might be a danger. I will discuss this matter with Crón.’
‘I hope she takes your advice in this as in other things.’
Dubán’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as he studied her expressionless face. He seemed to ask a question and, after a pause, she said: ‘I am not simple-minded.’
‘I did not think you were,’ admitted Dubán.
‘Good. Remember it well. Speak with Crón and advise her that it is better to speak the truth; better truth than half truth or complete lie.’
She turned and gestured for Eadulf to follow her. Theycontinued to ride along the hillside track and after a while Eadulf called to her.