Atonement of Blood(102)
‘There is a sadness in your voice, Fidaig,’ observed Fidelma.
‘Sadness because he has not been a dutiful son, like Artgal here, who is my heir apparent. Gláed goes his own way and pays me scant courtesy. When he was young he went to train as a Brehon but left barely reaching the level of freisneidhed. After that he was impossible to advise. Even during the Uí Fidgente war with Cashel, when I tried to keep my people out of it, he took some warriors and went to answer Eoganán’s call. The Uí Fidgente promised to make him lord of some territories they expected to conquer. He fought at Cnoc Áine and managed to survive.
‘Artgal has a wiser head and that is why he is my heir apparent. Gláed treads his own path. I found he has even become fanatical about these new rules of the Faith coming from Rome because he finds in them an excuse to mete out physical punishments on his people which I find it hard to contradict. He espouses something called the Penitentials and does not even celebrate the Pasch at the same time that we do. I have long since given up trying to influence him.’
‘What was the place you mentioned, the one that he is lord of?’
‘Barr an Bheithe, the Head of the Birch Forest? It is further west in the hills, where the An Abhainn Mór – the Great Black Water – rises. And you say he has dealings with this Cashel merchant, Ordan? Why is that of concern to you?’
‘It intrigues me, that is all. I presume there are mines around Barr an Bheithe?’
‘None that I know of.’ Fidaig looked puzzled. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Ordan trades in metals and stones. It seems that he and your son Gláed meet secretly, with Gláed disguised in religious robes and calling himself Brother Adamrae.’
Fidaig was staring at her in astonishment. ‘I have told you that he has become something of a religious fanatic. However, I know nothing of this trade. What is the purpose – do you know?’
‘I was hoping to find out.’
‘Then perhaps it is time that I paid my son a visit.’
‘Would Gláed continue his allegiance with any dissident Uí Fidgente after all these passing years?’
‘I know he has been restless and often rides forth with his small band of cronies. The times I have seen him since Cnoc Áine I can count on the fingers of one hand.’
‘So you would have no idea why Gláed would disguise himself as a religious and be seen at the Ford of the Oaks on the River Mháigh and have to kill to keep his identity a secret?’
There was no disguising the painful look of surprise on the face of the Lord of Luachra.
‘You had best tell me the entire story, lady,’ he said quietly.
Fidelma told him as simply as possible what had happened at the Ford of the Oaks, mentioning how she had later identified Adamrae as Gláed at Marban’s mill.
Fidaig was left silent; his bewilderment obvious. ‘I have no understanding of these matters,’ he confessed. ‘But I swear that I shall have answers. Tomorrow I shall take my men across the hills to Barr an Bheithe and seek those answers from my son.’
Fidelma hesitated for a moment and then said: ‘Perhaps we should come with you.’
Fidaig seemed to shake himself, as a dog might shake off water after an immersing. ‘Very well. Then tonight, you shall both be my guests at the feasting and entertainment. Tomorrow we will set off to Barr an Bheithe and ask for an account from Gláed. He will be called to account for the death of the apothecary and for his attack on you.’
Later, having ensured that Gormán was informed of the situation and was comfortable, Fidelma and Eadulf were escorted to a small tent and provided with water to wash themselves and prepare for the evening feasting.
Eadulf was direct. ‘Do you trust him?’
‘Fidaig is a wolf but in wolf’s clothing. He does not hide his nature and so we can trust one thing – that he can be treacherous,’ Fidelma replied.
Eadulf commented, ‘That is a curious way of expressing trust.’
‘He tries to make his son Gláed appear like a disobedient child,’ Fidelma replied, ‘but I think he suspects there is something deeper behind this.’
‘Don’t you feel we shall be in danger by going to Barr an Bheithe and confronting Gláed or Adamrae, whatever he is called?’
‘One cannot eat an egg without taking off the shell,’ she replied enigmatically. ‘So we are at the mercy of fate.’
Eadulf stared at her for a moment. ‘I thought you believed in the teachings of Pelagius, that we are the masters of our own destiny, and that you did not believe in fate.’