Colgú stared at her in surprise. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I will tell you everything later, during the council. But now a third question. When the battle was won, when Prince Eoganán fell, and his nobles were dead or had fled, you appointed your commanders, members of the Golden Collar, to take charge of various Uí Fidgente territories. It was my understanding that this was only a temporary measure to ensure the country stayed at peace until Prince Donennach had negotiated a peace with you. Is that so?’
‘That is exactly so. It worked well except …’ He hesitated. ‘Except that I made the mistake of appointing Uisnech, of the Eóghanacht Áine, in overall command. It was a bad choice. He bore a deep hatred against the Uí Fidgente that I had not counted on. I later heard reports of many evil things he did. When these stories came to me, I was on the point of recalling him, but then I heard that the Uí Fidgente had taken matters into their own hands. They ambushed and killed him.’ Colgú shrugged eloquently. ‘I cannot blame them. Thankfully, about that time, the derbhfine, the electoral college of the Uí Fidgente, had met and Prince Donennach was made Prince. He had been the son of Óengus, whom Eoganán had displaced years before, so the choice was a just one.’
Fidelma had waited patiently while her brother explained. ‘Can you recall what territories your commanders were given?’
Colgú frowned for a moment and then said: ‘I don’t think so.’
‘South of their territory, along the border with the Luachra … who was sent in charge there?’
‘I can’t recall. Capa was the commander at that time and made those dispositions. Then came the peace treaty and so there was no reason for our warriors to be in Uí Fidgente territory at all. They were all withdrawn. Why do you want to know?’
Fidelma smiled in satisfaction and shook her head. ‘It does not matter. It is of no significance now.’
‘And are you going to tell me everything?’ Colgú demanded.
‘As I said, brother, all in good time. Call the council to meet this evening.’
‘It shall be before the evening meal. I shall be impatient to hear what you have to say,’ sighed Colgú as she and Eadulf rose and left.
Outside, Fidelma turned to Eadulf. ‘There is one more thing I need to do. Will you go back to little Alchú and I’ll be along shortly?’
Eadulf wondered what she had in mind. He knew there was something she was not sharing with him. However, he was sure she would reveal it in her own good time.
After he had left her, she turned to Dego, another of the King’s bodyguard, who had replaced Caol on guard duty, and asked where she might find the commander.
‘He has retired to his chamber, lady,’ Dego replied. ‘It was my turn to guard the King’s chambers.’
Caol was alone in his chamber when Fidelma entered. He rose to his feet and stood nervously while she closed the door behind her. For a moment they stood facing one another without speaking.
‘Well, Caol?’ she said.
Caol shifted his weight.
‘Well, lady?’ he repeated.
She motioned for him to be seated and lowered herself into a chair opposite.
‘You probably know why I have come to see you and to speak with you alone?’
‘I have some idea, lady.’
‘You fought alongside my brother at Cnoc Áine?’
‘True enough.’
‘When my brother dispersed warriors throughout the country of the Uí Fidgente, with companies to support them, I think you were sent to the southern borders, along the hills that separate it from the territory of Luachra.’
‘I was.’
‘You went to stay at the rath of Menma.’
He made no reply but did not deny it.
‘So you were the warrior of the Golden Collar that the locals came to believe led the attack on the rath.’
‘They would have believed anything of a warrior of the Nasc Niadh. I did not lead any such attack.’
‘I know. But you were the warrior who fell in love with Liamuin.’
‘And she with me,’ Caol replied defensively.
‘You knew about her background?’
‘She told me that she had been married and had a husband who had mistreated her. She also had a daughter.’
‘When I brought Aibell into the palace, I think you recognised her. I saw the astonishment on your face.’
‘I thought … I thought I was dreaming. She seemed so like her mother. While you were away, I have spoken with the girl. I did not tell her about my relationship with her mother. I allowed her to tell me her story.’ Caol shook his head sadly. ‘If only her mother had known. Menma’s rath was only a short distance from Sliabh Luachra. Perhaps I could have taken some men there and …’
‘And perhaps not,’ replied Fidelma. ‘Even a relative of Liamuin, the one who sent her to Menma’s rath for safety, felt he could do nothing to rescue the girl. Why didn’t you tell her that you were the lover of her mother?’
Caol sighed. ‘I do not have that sort of courage, lady.’
‘You may well have to find it. But there are questions first. How and when did you come to know of the death of Menma and his family; the death of Liamuin?’
‘There was trouble in the east and I had to take my men to the settlement at Finnan’s church. Some Uí Fidgente rebels had fortified the hill fort that is nearby. We were kept at that place for three months. I was told the news of what had happened at Menma’s rath by a wandering monk. I learned that Liamuin had been slain, along with the others — and during these last four years I have tried to forget.’
‘What was the story that you heard?’
‘That the attack was led by a warrior wearing a golden collar.’ He raised his hand to touch the emblem at his neck. ‘I heard also that he carried a shield with the stag rampant encased in jewels — the personal emblem of Colgú.’
‘Local people did not know that.’
‘Any member of the Eóghanacht could decipher its meaning. The wandering monk told me.’
‘Would he not have passed that on?’
‘He did not have the opportunity. Moments after he told me, the Uí Fidgente rebels made an attack and the man was killed.’
‘So only you knew about the shield. Did you think Colgú was responsible?’
‘I was with him on Cnoc Áine when he was wounded and lost his shield. Anyone could have picked it up. Indeed, several warriors of the Golden Collar were killed that day and much looting went on. It would have been easy for someone to go off with a golden collar and the shield.’
‘There is something that I don’t understand, Caol. I could guess, but perhaps you will tell me.’
‘What is that, lady?’
‘When the man calling himself Brother Lennán came into the feasting hall and thrust his sword at Colgú, he shouted, “Remember Liamuin!” You must have recognised him.’
‘No, lady, I did not. He did seem familiar — I tried to think where I had seen him before, but I could not recall him. Four years is a long time.’
‘But he recognised you.’
Caol gestured helplessly. ‘It was not reciprocal.’
‘Let us think back to the moment. He wounded my brother and then poor Brehon Áedo intervened and he was killed. The killer tried to withdraw his weapon for another blow. Then you moved to prevent that second blow. As you did so, he looked up and hesitated a moment. In that hesitation, he recognised you. Obviously he knew that you were the warrior of the Golden Collar who had been Liamuin’s lover and not my brother. Did you kill him because of that?’
Caol’s expression was serious. ‘I did not, lady. All I knew was that he had attacked Colgú shouting, “Remember Liamuin!” I recognised her name but I did not recognise the assassin.’
‘In fact, he was named Maolán. He was the son of Cadan and his wife Flannait.’
The warrior breathed in sharply. ‘So that was who he was! Maolán. I remember him now. He was the son of a neighbouring farmer and his wife. Where had he been these last years, nursing this hatred?’