Free Badger's Moon by Peter Tremayne

‘I’d better send Accobrán with you as your guide, for these woods are wide and dark and deep. Liag dwells on a hillock by the river that is hard to find and he does not welcome visitors, especially strangers.’
    ‘If the man is a recluse,’ Eadulf pointed out, ‘then it sounds as if you should be considering finding another apothecary to minister to the needs of the people here. Is there no apothecary at the abbey?’
    Becc nodded. ‘Indeed there is. But Liag is one of our community. He is not as reclusive as, perhaps, we have implied. He even accepts pupils.’
    ‘Pupils?’ mused Fidelma. ‘Ah yes. You said he taught your young. Does he train them in the art of being an apothecary?’
    Becc shook his head. ‘As I have said, he teaches them star lore.’
    ‘Star lore?’
    ‘The symbolism of the sun and moon, of the gods and goddesses that rule them, and…’ Becc stopped and looked uncomfortable. ‘I do not mean to imply that he teaches anything that is contrary to the New Faith. But he is a repository of knowledge of the ancient beliefs and legends. He is a good apothecary. My people believe in him and have faith in his cures.’
    ‘For a hermit who dislikes visitors to be relied upon to tend the sick and injured is, indeed, a sign of his ability,’ Eadulf remarked. ‘What makes him attract such loyalty?’
    Becc smiled knowingly. ‘His ability to cure. It is said that he is descended from those who were possessed of thorough knowledge. Those who practised the healing arts long before the coming of the New Faith.’
    ‘Then we shall look forward to meeting him,’ Fidelma assured the chieftain, as she rose to her feet. ‘And now…’
    ‘I will get Adag to show you to your quarters. I think your baths should be ready.’ Becc took the hint. ‘Afterwards, please join us in a small feast that has been prepared to welcome you to the land of the Cinél na Áeda.’
    Later, as Fidelma and Eadulf, having washed away the dust of travel, eaten and imbibed well in the feasting hall and been entertained by poets and harpers, were preparing for bed, Eadulf succumbed to a contented smile. ‘Well, this distant cousin of yours – Becc – seems an amiable chieftain. He dwells in a comfortable and pleasant fortress.’
    ‘That may be,’ Fidelma replied and it was clear that she was far from sharing Eadulf’s content. ‘But remember why we are here, Eadulf. There is an evil in this place. An evil which strikes savagely at young women at the full of the moon. Do not let the pleasant food, or company or surroundings, coax your senses into a false complacency. That evil that lurks in the dark forests round here can strike…and maybe not just when the moon is full.’

Chapter Four
    The autumn morning was bright and crisp, without any mist. The shapes of the hills and trees were sharply defined and the colours of the countryside were still lustrous with browns and reds streaking through the multi-shades of green. It was only in the morning light, when they had finished breakfasting, that Eadulf had looked out of the window which gave an overview of the fortress and realised that Rath Raithlen was not small at all. It was a complex that covered nearly a hectare, enclosed by triple ramparts. He tried to work it out in Irish measurements but gave up. Brought up among farmers, he estimated that a yoke of oxen would probably take more than two days to plough the area. It was large by comparison to the fortresses and strongholds he had seen previously. It compared even with Cashel.
    The ramparts were typically built along the contours of a hill that rose 80 metres or more, overlooking other smaller hills in all directions. Through the surrounding valleys ran a series of streams, some worthy of being called rivers, such as the one that twisted around the foot of the hill on which Rath Raithlen stood. There were woods as far as the eye could see, although now and then smaller raths or fortresses could be made out atop