The Spider's Web by Peter Tremayne Read Free Book Online

Araglin of which young Archú informed him, wishing to establish his new found position as a man of status in Araglin.
    ‘Are we the only travellers on this road tonight?’ Fidelma asked during a lull in the conversation.
    Bressal pulled a face.
    ‘You are the only travellers to stop here during the last week. Not many traverse this particular road to Araglin.’
    ‘Then there are surely other roads?’
    ‘Indeed there is one other. A track which runs from the east of the valley along which one might reach the south, Lios Mhór, Ard Mór and Dún Garbhain. This road is merely the one which joins the great road that runs north to Cashel or south to Lios Mhór. Why do you ask, sister?’ There was a glint of curiosity in the hostel keeper’s eyes.
    Archú was frowning.
    ‘I was told that this was the only road to Lios Mhór.’
    ‘By whom?’ demanded the hostel keeper.

    ‘Father Gormán of Araglin.’
    ‘Well, the eastern road is the quicker road to Lios Mhór,’ Bressal insisted. ‘He should know better.’
    Fidelma decided to change the subject and indicated the collection of rocks on the side table. ‘You have a curious collection of ornaments there, my friend.’
    Bressal was dismissive.
    ‘Not mine. I did not collect them. My brother, Morna, is a miner, working in the mines which lie to the west of here on the Plain of Minerals. He picked up these rocks during his work. I keep them for him.’
    Fidelma appeared to be very interested in the rocks, picking them up and turning them over in her hands.
    ‘They are very intriguing.’
    ‘Morna has been collecting them for years. It was only a couple of days ago that he came here, full of excitement, saying that he had discovered something that would make him rich. He had a rock with him. How a rock would make him rich I do not know. He spent a night here and left the next day.’
    ‘Which was the rock he brought with him?’ Fidelma asked, intrigued as she ran her eye over the collection.
    Bressal rubbed the back of his head.
    ‘I confess that I am not sure now.’ He picked one up. ‘This one I think.’
    Fidelma took it and held it in her hands, turning it over. To her untrained eye it was just an ordinary piece of granite. She handed it back to the hostel keeper. He replaced the rock on the table.
    ‘Can I get you anything else before you retire for the night?’ he asked, turning to the company.
    Archú and Scoth decided to retire while Eadulf asked for another cup of mead and announced he would sit by the fire awhile longer. Fidelma sat talking to Bressal for hostel keepers were always a good source of information. She turned the conversation to Eber. Bressal had only seen Eber half-a-dozen times passing
from his territory on the road to Cashel. He had little knowledge to form an opinion of him, though he said that he had heard mixed opinions of the man. Some thought he was a bully while others praised him for his kindliness and generosity.
    It was still early when Fidelma announced that she would retire to bed. Bressal had allocated Fidelma a corner of the main sleeping area which consisted of the entire top floor of the hostel. It was a curtained off space, for it was unusual in tiny hostels to find separate rooms for those spending the night. The bed was no more than a straw palliasse on the floor and a rough woollen blanket. It was clean, warm and comfortable and she would ask no more.
    It appeared to her that her head had barely lain on the straw when she was startled awake. A warm hand was gripping her arm and squeezing gently. She blinked and began to struggle but a voice whispered: ‘Hush. It is I.’
    It was Eadulf’s voice.
    She lay still, blinking a moment.
    ‘There are some armed men outside the hostel,’ Eadulf continued, his voice pitched so low that she could barely hear it.
    Fidelma was aware that the window was filled with a curious grey light and while, through its uncurtained aperture, she could still see one or two tiny bright