The Spider's Web by Peter Tremayne

precariously mounted. They came charging down the road, passing close to where Fidelma and Eadulf had taken up their positions. Eadulf was about to spring out at them, but Fidelma held him back.
    ‘Let them go,’ she instructed. ‘We have been lucky so far.’ Indeed, she uttered a prayer of thanks for professional fighting men would not have been so easily routed.
    She stared up as the attackers rode by her and noticed the last man in the cavalcade, a burly man with a large reddish beard and ugly features, crouching low over his horse’s neck. Eadulf had half raised his bow but let it drop with a shrug when he realised the rider failed to present a good enough target.
    The band of horsemen quickly disappeared along the path and into the forests.
    Eadulf turned to Fidelma in bewilderment.
    ‘Why did we let them go?’ he demanded.
    Fidelma smiled tightly.
    ‘We were lucky. If they had been warriors we would not have come away so lightly. Thank God that they were a group of cowards, but if you corner a coward, like a small frightened animal, he will fight savagely for his freedom. Besides, our attention is needed at the hostel. Look, the roof is already alight.’
    She turned and hurried to the hostel, calling out to Bressal that the attackers had fled and to come out to help them.
    Bressal found a ladder and within moments, they had formed a chain, passing buckets of water up to the thatch. It took a while but eventually the fire was doused and the thatch just damp and smoky. Bressal, gratefully, took a flagon of mead and poured cups for them all.
    ‘I have to thank you for saving this hostel from those bandits,’ he announced as he handed them the drink.

    ‘Who were they?’ demanded young Archú. ‘Did you see any of them close to, sister?’
    ‘Only a glimpse,’ confessed Fidelma.
    ‘At least two of them will have painful shoulders for a while,’ Eadulf added grimly.
    ‘This area is a poor part of the country,’ Archú reflected wonderingly. ‘It is strange that bandits would attempt to rob this hostel.’
    ‘Rob?’ Fidelma raised an eyebrow slightly. ‘It seemed to me that they were trying to burn it down rather than rob it.’
    Eadulf nodded slowly.
    ‘That is true. They could have come up quietly enough and burst in, if they had wanted to simply rob the hostel and its guests.’
    ‘Perhaps they were just passing by and seized the opportunity on the spur of the moment without any thought of a plan,’ Bressal offered the explanation but his tone did not carry conviction.
    Eadulf shook his head.
    ‘Passing by? You said yourself that this road is not one used frequently and that it only leads in and out of Araglin.’
    Bressal sighed.
    ‘Well, I have never been attacked by outlaws before.’
    ‘Do you have enemies, Bressal?’ Eadulf pressed. ‘Is there anyone who would want to see you driven out of this hostel?’
    ‘No one,’ affirmed Bressal with conviction. ‘There is no one who would profit in any way by the destruction of this hostel. I have served here all my life.’
    ‘Then …’ Eadulf began but Fidelma interrupted sharply.
    ‘Perhaps it was just a gang of plunderers searching for easy pickings. But they will have learnt a lesson for now.’
    Eadulf looked as if he were about to say something but, catching Fidelma’s eye, he clamped his jaw shut.
    ‘It was lucky that you were here,’ Bressal agreed, not noticing this interplay. ‘I could not have beaten off the attack by myself.’
    ‘Well, it is time to break our fast and be on our way,’ Fidelma
replied, realising that the morning hour was growing late.
    After breakfast, Archú announced that he and Scoth would part company with them. The way to Archú’s farmstead could be reached from this point without going towards the rath of Araglin. Archú and Scoth offered to spend an hour or two with Bressal helping him clean the hostel and repair the thatch while Fidelma and Eadulf continued on towards Araglin.
    It was Bressal