The Mammoth Book of Historical Crime Fic - By Mike Ashley Page 0,85

is?” challenged Niav, as she finally hauled herself over the lip of the well and waved her unexpected trophy in the face of an equally furious Aunty Grizzel. “Something else you should have saved for me?” It had to be her mother’s missing sacred barra.

***

The rain beat down on the roof-turf during a long night of recriminations, but the next day, as Niav and her aunt were enjoying their bread and honey in the freshness of reconciliation and a sun-and-birdsong morning, a raging Kyle came crashing his way up from the river.

“Where is that arsehole Fearn?” he roared at his bewildered relatives. “He has killed Father!”

***

Grizzel and Niav were still completely bewildered as they fought to row their coracle across the swollen river, Niav with her newly mended barra at her belt.

“It must have been an accident. That thing is sharp and Uncle Lurgan had no right to have taken it.”

“Calm down. We will see exactly what has happened when we get there,” panted Aunt Grizzel, looking at the new patch of dark cloud moving in from the north. “That could be another downpour – I don’t fancy getting trapped on the east side if we turn out to be unpopular.”

“They might not even let us in – there isn’t much reason why they should.”

“Interesting that it was hidden in Helygen’s ‘Dangerous Herbs’ basket all this time. I wonder how Fearn found out?”

“I told you – when he came to say his goodbyes yesterday, he seemed to know where the blade was, and he intended to get it. But I just don’t see how it would have been hidden in there. I know the basket was kept well out of our reach in the roof beams – but it’s not as though she didn’t winch it down often when she was teaching us; all those neat little jars securely sealed. We have used it lots of times. I never got a hint of anything concealed in it.”

“Poor Kyle – he is shattered. He may have got that bit wrong. They have had a long night.”

“I hope he doesn’t find him.”

They beached the coracle and headed up the hillside. Lurgan’s hut – the ancient home of Niav’s family – was a large, thatched, almost square building with the significant feature these days of having more than one room. It stood slightly set apart from the other buildings – a venerable place. Today it was in turmoil, or as near to turmoil as the east side ever got. Several of the assembled lady mourners gave a slight gasp as Grizzel and Niav arrived in the doorway.

Estra seemed to be the one in charge. After a moment’s hesitation, she hurried over to greet them, gliding effortlessly through the milling crowd of well-wishers in an impressively dignified way. She ushered them over to where her mother was sitting, placed formally before the dresser, hunched among a huddle of her cooing and sobbing neighbours next to the wattle bier, suitably draped in his second best cloak, where a very clean Uncle Lurgan had been laid out in his finest kilt and cape in the light from the door. His dead fingers had been bent around his hard-won greenstone axe, and they had even given him his hat. Niav had always seen Uncle Lurgan’s hat as the symbol of his pomposity; now it somehow seemed fitting and almost stately. His hound lay sleeping, slumped beside the bier, as if he knew his master would never wake.

Poor Aunty Helygen looked up at them as they came in. Niav could have sworn she saw her eyes flicker at the sight of the barra at her waist, but she didn’t say a word. Grizzel didn’t seem to register this at all and ran over and folded her in a warm embrace. Helygen clung to her, sobbing fiercely.

Estra left them to it and drew Niav over to the comparative privacy of the woman’s section of the hut. “I am so glad you’ve got here,” she whispered. “However did you find out? The river seems to be running very high – who managed to tell you?”

“Kyle came storming over to us – whatever happened?”

“You haven’t seen Fearn?”

“Not since late yesterday afternoon. If someone stabbed your dad, Fearn hadn’t got the blade then – so when on earth did this happen? Kyle was pretty difficult to get any sense out of.”

“Kyle wasn’t here. He came home just as Father breathed his last. The rest of us were, though. We heard them shouting