‘It could be a trap.’
Fidelma disagreed. ‘I think the totem of the Uí Fidgente is essential to this conspiracy – whatever it is. If Loeg reports that you have it, Fidaig, then they will not come after me. So I suggest that you take good care to hide Ordan’s wagon. I also suggest that you hand over this totem to me for temporary safekeeping. I think it will help to solve the many mysteries which now lie hidden. I promise that I will keep it safe. Will you trust me with that?’
Fidaig rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then he finally gave a quick nod of confirmation.
‘The Uí Fidgente mean little to me. I am content as lord of the Luachra. You may take their totem back to them or destroy it as you will. But remember, it is a powerful symbol. Even some of my own warriors have followed it and been seduced by its power. You saw how they reacted just now when it was discovered. So have a care, lady. Guard it safely.’
Fidelma turned to Gormán but before she spoke he said solemnly: ‘My honour and sword hand will defend it, lady, or I will be dead when it is taken from me.’
‘Rather you remain alive than dead, my friend,’ she replied dryly.
‘To ensure that you reach Mungairit, I can give you two of my men to accompany you,’ offered Fidaig.
To Eadulf’s surprise, Fidelma accepted the offer.
Later that night, in the darkness of their tent, Eadulf rolled over and peered towards the figure of Fidelma. The sounds of her breathing made him realise that she was awake.
‘I still don’t trust Fidaig,’ he whispered without preamble.
‘Trust does not come into it,’ she whispered back. ‘I think Fidaig is genuinely concerned about Gláed, although I don’t believe it is Gláed’s intention to overthrow his father. I return to my earlier thought about the overthrow of Prince Donennach. Why else would Gláed, in his guise of Brother Adamrae, be trading for new weapons with Ordan? I know that Ordan was a merchant without morals and that he had traded with the smiths of Magh Méine for years. Perhaps it is as simple as that. It is not every merchant who has such connections or who is willing to trade in weapons and is not too scrupulous with whom he trades. But the Cathach is something else.’
Eadulf stared into the darkness. ‘I would have thought your law system would control such things as the way merchants trade.’ He did not mean to sound rude.
‘A merchant is the one occupation that is not included in the lists of the professions,’ replied Fidelma. ‘It is not even mentioned in the law texts such as the Uraicecht Becc or the Bretha Nemed toisech.’
‘And why is that?’
‘Because such a merchant of death is so abhorrent to us that we cannot conceive that he exists.’
‘And yet exist he does.’
‘Exist he does,’ she confirmed hollowly. ‘Or did so until Loeg ended his existence.’
‘Yet if there is a conspiracy to overthrow Prince Donennach, what would Gláed of the Luachra hope to achieve by it? He is not even an Uí Fidgente, let alone having a claim to the succession.’
‘I am beginning to see some light in all this darkness, Eadulf. But we have some way to go first.’
Eadulf peered at her. ‘You see some light?’ he demanded. ‘I see nothing but complications.’
‘I think that by nightfall tomorrow you will have a better understanding.’
‘Why tomorrow?’ he asked, bewildered.
‘Because tomorrow we shall be on our journey back to Dún Eochair Mháigh and our first stop will be at the watermill of Marban.’
‘I still don’t understand.’
There was a long sigh from the darkness. ‘Go to sleep, Eadulf. Tomorrow will be a long day.’
They set off after the first meal of the day. A weak sun was trying to shine, with banks of white clouds being blown rapidly across the sky by the wind from the west. Fidaig’s camp was in the process of breaking up. The heavy wagons were already moving off towards the spot where Fidaig’s fortress lay, while the warriors were saddling up ready to ride with Fidaig for Barr an Bheithe. The two who had been designated to accompany Fidelma and her companions were sturdy, capable men, professional warriors who knew their art. When Fidelma had asked them about their qualifications, they answered that they were of the fubae – warriors whose task was usually to hunt down brigands, especially horse and cattle thieves, and to keep the wolf population under control.
They made their farewells to Fidaig and, with Gormán leading, they rode back across the River Ealla, retracing their way along the track they had been forced to take on the previous day. Gormán carried the totem slung across his back, with the sacking securely tied over the gold ravening wolf so that no one would recognise it. Behind him rode Fidelma and Eadulf, and behind them came the two watchful warriors.