Eadulf witnessed the stormclouds gather on Fidelma’s features and put his hand on her arm.
Finguine also noticed, for he said immediately: ‘You are quite right, Brehon Aillín. You do well to remind us that you are senior in this matter.’
Fidelma noticed there was a twinkle in her cousin’s blue eyes as he brushed his Eóghanacht red hair away from his forehead.
‘As the senior Brehon, Aillín himself might want to take on this task of riding into the country of the Uí Fidgente to discover what more can be found out,’ explained Finguine.
The heir apparent’s voice sounded innocent enough, but Fidelma was sure he was inwardly laughing at the crusty old judge, whose features had whitened considerably at the suggestion.
‘It would be an honour to undertake this task,’ Brehon Aillín stuttered a little. ‘Of course, I could do so … But — but I am now acting Chief Brehon following the death of poor Brehon Áedo.’ His voice grew stronger. ‘It is therefore my duty to remain in Cashel as your adviser, Finguine, until the King returns to health. Perhaps a more junior dálaigh would be capable of gathering what additional evidence there is to be garnered?’
‘Naturally,’ agreed Finguine solemnly. ‘And since Fidelma has investigated thus far, and with some notable success, I would suggest that she continues to fulfil this task.’ He turned to Fidelma. ‘And in accepting it, I suggest that our friend Eadulf be at your side as always.’
Fidelma bowed her head so that her amusement was not seen by Brehon Aillín.
‘I will carry out the wishes of my cousin, the tánaiste,’ she forced a sombre note in her voice. ‘And I am sure that Eadulf, in spite of his stated reluctance,’ she glanced meaningfully at the old judge, ‘will be happy to accompany me.’
‘But you cannot go into the country of the Uí Fidgente alone.’ It was Caol who protested. The commander of the élite warriors of Cashel turned anxiously towards Finguine. ‘They must be accompanied by a bodyguard of warriors.’
But Fidelma was already protesting. ‘If we go into the country of the Uí Fidgente with a company of warriors, we will be asking for trouble. There is peace between Prince Donennach and Cashel. Armed warriors riding into his territory will be seen as a sign of aggression. Best go there as what we are — two people who travel in peace.’
‘We cannot trust the Uí Fidgente,’ Caol said obstinately. ‘I have fought against them at Cnoc Áine, and I am responsible for your safety as a Princess of the Eóghanacht. Remember that Abbot Nannid of Mungairit is the uncle of Prince Donennach. I cannot allow …’
Fidelma’s eyes flashed suddenly. ‘Cannot allow?’ she demanded coldly.
Finguine once again raised his hand for silence. ‘I am inclined to agree with Caol, Fidelma. It crosses my mind that this is an interesting time for this attack to have happened.’
‘Why so?’ Fidelma was impatient.
‘Because Prince Donennach is due here before the next full moon. He is coming to negotiate a new treaty with Colgú to supersede the one concluded at the end of the Uí Fidgente uprising against us four years ago.’
Fidelma was surprised. ‘I was not told this. I had heard that he was going to pay his respects to the High King at Tara, but not that he was returning through Cashel.’
‘It was felt best not to make the negotiation too widely known.’
‘Donennach is a wily politician,’ muttered Caol. ‘That is why I should go with you. You stand in need of protection.’
‘Eadulf and I can protect ourselves …’ began Fidelma.
Finguine intervened again: ‘Your brother has come close to assassination. If there is a danger in the country of the Uí Fidgente then you must take what steps you may for your protection. On the other hand, Fidelma, I can appreciate your argument that it would be ill-advised for you to take an entire band of warriors as your escort. That would draw too much attention to yourselves and might well restrict your enquiries.’
‘What middle path do you suggest?’ Fidelma asked.
‘I would suggest that one warrior of the Nasc Niadh, the Golden Collar, should accompany you.’
Fidelma thought about it and then shrugged. ‘Very well. One warrior will not attract as much attention to us as a band of warriors.’
‘Then it is agreed,’ confirmed Finguine.
‘I will make sure that you are both kept safe,’ Caol promised them with a confident smile. ‘It will be like old times.’
Finguine was shaking his head. ‘I did not mean you, Caol. As commander of the warriors in Cashel your task must be to remain close by my side during this time of unrest. If news of the severity of the King’s injuries becomes known among his enemies, then we may stand in need of your skills.’
Caol’s expression fell in disappointment. ‘But I know the Uí Fidgente,’ he repeated. ‘They are not to be trusted. I was one of the warriors who went with Uisnech, the lord of Áine, to pacify them after they were defeated at Cnoc Áine. And didn’t they assassinate Uisnech before they agreed the peace with Cashel? You must remember that, Finguine. You are of the Eóghanacht Áine and were you not kinsman to Uisnech?’
Finguine would not be moved.
‘My mind is made up, Caol. Your duty is here. Now, who would you recommend to accompany the lady Fidelma?’
Caol looked as if he would argue further, but seeing the determination in the tánaiste’s features, he shrugged. Before he could speak, however, Fidelma had answered her cousin. ‘Let Gormán come with us. He has had a great deal of experience.’
‘An excellent choice,’ Finguine agreed, turning to Caol. ‘Do you raise any objections?’
‘He is a good man,’ Caol admitted reluctantly.
Finguine turned back to Fidelma and asked: ‘Do you know when you will leave?’
‘Tomorrow, at first light.’
‘How will you proceed?’
Fidelma glanced at Eadulf and then said confidently, ‘First we will go directly to the Abbey of Mungairit. It may be that something is known there of Brother Lennán. The road is not too difficult beyond Ara’s Well. Two days’ riding should bring us safely to the abbey.’
‘But if you have no success at Mungairit, what then?’
‘Then we shall ride south-west. We’ll follow the river, An Mháigh, to Dún Eochair Mháigh and see what is known of this girl and her mother Liamuin. That’s no more than a day’s ride from Mungairit. A further day’s ride would put us in Luachra territory if our enquiries force us there. From the territory of the Luachra we could be back in Cashel after two or three days at most. Of course, it all depends on how long we stay in each place pursuing our task, but the minimum we should be away is seven days.’
Finguine was calculating the time. ‘I cannot say I feel comfortable about this, but if there is no other way …’
‘This has to be done so that we can learn if there is more danger threatening,’ Fidelma insisted.
Finguine nodded briefly before glancing around at the assembled company. ‘Then it is agreed?’
They assented one by one, although Caol still looked disappointed that he would not be going with them.
Outside the small council chamber Fidelma turned to Eadulf and apologised.
‘For what?’ he asked.
‘Once more we have to leave little Alchú behind.’
Eadulf smiled at her. ‘In this case it seems necessary. Let us hope it will not be for long. The boy is bright and I feel he now needs our attention. He is beginning to have dexterity in counting and speaking. He is even picking up some of my language, in spite of Muirgen’s disapproval.’
Fidelma laughed easily. ‘Take no notice. It is what we think that is important. Indeed, this is the best time for the boy to learn languages. We should talk to Brother Conchobhar about it. He always says that the younger a child starts learning languages, the more naturally they can pick them up.’