Valley of the Shadow by Peter Tremayne Read Free Book Online Page A

the negotiator whom he is expecting and I speak in the stead of my brother, Colgú, his king.’
    Orla failed to disguise her surprise. The qualification of anruth was only one degree below the highest that the ecclesiastical and secular colleges of Ireland could bestow. Fidelma could walk and talk with kings, even the High King, let alone petty chieftains.
    The dark-haired woman swallowed hard and, while she was undoubtedly impressed, her features remained harsh and unfriendly.
    ‘As representative of Laisre of Gleann Geis, I bid you welcome, techtaire. ’ It took Eadulf some moments to recognise the ancient word for an envoy. Orla continued: ‘But as representative of the new religion of Christ, I say that you are not welcome in this place. Nor is the foreigner whom you bring with you.’
    Fidelma leant forward, her voice sharp and clear.
    ‘Does that imply a threat? Are the sacred laws of hospitality abrogated in the land of Laisre? Is it the sword you accept instead of this?’
    She held up the white wand again, thrusting it forward almost aggressively towards Orla. The sun sparkled brightly on the gold figure of the stag.

    Orla’s cheeks coloured and she raised her chin defiantly.
    ‘I imply no threat to your life. Nor even his life.’ She jerked her head towards Eadulf. ‘No harm will come to you nor to the foreigner while you extend your protection to him. We are not barbarians in Gleann Geis. Envoys, under law, are regarded as sacred and inviolable and are treated with utmost respect even though they be our bitterest enemies.’
    Eadulf moved uneasily for there was still a deadly serious threat behind what she was saying.
    ‘That is good to know, Orla,’ Fidelma replied easily, relaxing and replacing the wand in her saddle bag. ‘For I have seen what happens to people to whom such immunity from death is not given.’
    Eadulf’s jaw slackened and he felt a sudden panic. If Orla and her warriors were responsible for the deaths of the young men across the valley then Fidelma, in admitting knowledge of the corpses, was putting their lives in considerable danger. He had thought she was going to be circumspect about the gruesome find. Then he suddenly became aware of the distant squawking of the birds of prey and he glanced anxiously over his shoulder. It was obvious that something was amiss across the glen in the direction where the corpses lay and the warriors of Orla’s bodyguard must surely have spotted the ravening carrion birds anyway.
    Yet Orla was regarding Fidelma with some bewilderment. She had apparently not taken in the swirling cloud of distant ravens.
    ‘I have no understanding of your meaning.’
    Fidelma indicated across the valley with one arm in a careless gesture.
    ‘Can you see the black of the battle ravens there? They feed on corpses.’
    ‘Corpses?’ Orla jerked her gaze up, apparently seeing the birds for the first time.
    ‘Thirty-three young men who have suffered The Threefold Death.’
    Orla’s jaw suddenly clenched; her face was white as she brought her gaze back to Fidelma. It took her a moment or two to frame an answer.
    ‘Is this some jest?’ she demanded coldly.
    ‘I do not jest.’
    Orla turned to the black-bearded warrior whom she had previously rebuked for his interruption.
    ‘Artgal, take half of our men and see what this evil gathering means.’
    Artgal was glowering with suspicion.

    ‘It may be some Christian trap, lady.’
    The woman’s eyes flashed angrily.
    ‘Do as I say!’ The voice was like a whiplash.
    Without another word, the warrior, Artgal, signalled a section of the mounted warriors to follow him and he rode off in the direction where the distant birds were circling and diving.
    ‘The Threefold Death, you claim?’ the woman almost whispered after he had gone. ‘Are you sure this was the manner of death, Fidelma of Cashel?’
    ‘I am sure. But your man, Artgal, will confirm what I say on his return.’
    ‘The blame for this is not to be laid on