‘But now he is dead. Do you know what a Brehon is?’
‘Of course.’
‘You know I am here to find out who killed Donnchad. The King, who has great authority over this land, sent me. He wants those who killed your friend Donnchad to be discovered and punished.’
Brother Gáeth was thoughtful for a moment.
‘The King has greater authority than Brother Lugna?’
‘He has.’
‘And greater than the abbot?’
‘He has. Do you understand that this thing Donnchad gave you will help uncover the person who killed him?’
‘But I was never to give it to anyone,’ repeated Brother Gáeth in a dull tone.
‘You do not want his killer to escape without answering for that evil deed, do you?’
Brother Gáeth looked uncertain.
‘I was never to give it to anyone,’ he said again but now there was confusion in his voice.
‘Never until it was needed to help poor Donnchad find rest and make those who killed him answer for their crime.’
‘You think that Donnchad would wish me to show you?’ He was wavering. He needed guidance.
‘I do.’
Brother Gáeth sat thoughtfully for a few moments and then moved to a corner where there was a pile of stones. Methodically, he began moving them to reveal a small hole in the ground. There was a box inside which he lifted out. Then he opened the box. Inside lay a scroll of papyrus.
Fidelma took the papyrus carefully from the box and unrolled it. It was written in a firm hand and in the language of her people. The title was Do Bhualadh in Brégoiri — The Hammering of the Deceivers. She swallowed nervously and held the lamp higher. ‘Ni rádat som acht bréic togáis …’ Shebegan reading aloud. ‘They speak only lies and deceit …’ She paused and licked her dry lips before she continued reading to herself.
A short time later she stopped reading and sat back. It was not a long manuscript but it was one whose contents chilled her to the marrow. She rolled up the papyrus, replaced it in the box and handed it back to Brother Gáeth. He was looking at her with troubled eyes.
‘What did it say, Sister?’ he asked. ‘I do not have the ability to read it. It is too complicated for my poor learning.’
‘It tells how distressed Brother Donnchad was.’ She smiled quickly. ‘He was confused and concerned.’
‘But will it help track down who killed him?’
‘It does. Continue to hide it safely, Brother Gáeth,’ she said. She crawled towards the entrance and paused. ‘A time will come in the next few days when I shall ask you to bring that box and papyrus to me. Then I shall reveal who killed your friend.’
‘You won’t tell anyone of this place, Sister?’ Brother Gáeth asked anxiously.
‘Have no fear. Your monument to your dead will not be violated again.’
She left him and walked slowly back down the hill where she found Eadulf and Gormán waiting with the horses, their impatience and anxiety plain to see.
‘Well?’ Eadulf demanded anxiously. ‘What happened? Are you all right?’
‘Why would I not be?’ she answered evenly.
‘Then what did you discover?’
‘The final piece of the jigsaw.’
‘You know who killed Brother Donnchad?’ asked Gormán.
‘I wish I did not,’ she replied grimly. ‘I was certain before but unable to understand the motive that could drive a person to such a crime. Even so, it must stand the test of argumentand that might prove the most difficult part of the entire puzzle. Gormán, I must ask you to ride directly for Cashel with some instructions for my brother-’
‘Instructions? For the King?’ asked the warrior, astounded.
‘It will be up to you to impress on Colgú that he must obey these instructions to the letter, otherwise danger may ensue, a danger that might result in a threat to the security of the kingdom.’
‘A threat?’ stammered Gormán.
Fidelma was irritable. ‘Gormán, I thought more of you than to see you impersonate a newly landed salmon, opening and closing your mouth like that,’ she snapped. ‘When you ride for Cashel you must ensure that you go by a route that is shrouded from the main paths so that no one will know that you have gone or in which direction.’
‘Very well, lady.’
‘Good. I will now tell you what you must say to my brother.’ She spoke rapidly and clearly. Gormán nodded that he had understood the instructions. When he remounted his horse, she stood back and smiled at him. ‘I will expect you back at the abbey in three days’ time.’
Gormán raised his hand in salute and sped northwards.
Fidelma watched him go with an expression of satisfaction.
‘I presume that you are going to tell me what these curious instructions meant?’ Eadulf asked, almost petulantly.
‘Indeed I shall. And then we shall have a few days to occupy ourselves until my brother arrives, so we will be able to prepare our case. The presentation will fall entirely on me, Eadulf, as only a qualified dálaigh will be able to do this. But you must stand ready to find references to back me. This will be a difficult case to present and I fear there will be few precedents.’
Eadulf knew that any judge needed to see precedents in law before making a judgement.
‘I will do my best,’ he said.
Fidelma looked suddenly tired. ‘We have to be well prepared, Eadulf. I swear that I would never have believed that virtue was the cause of so much evil.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
Three days after Gormán had left for Cashel, he returned late in the evening to report that everything had been accomplished as Fidelma had instructed. Fidelma immediately made arrangements with Abbot Iarnla and Brother Lugna that at midday, the next day, she would present her report in the refectorium. Word was then sent to Lady Eithne, to Uallachán and to Cumscrad so that they could attend at the same time.
Fidelma and Eadulf rose at first light on the day and made their way across the quadrangle. It was a peaceful morning, the dawn sunlight giving the promise of another warm day ahead. The early morning birdsong, however, was eclipsed by the sounds from the chapel. They could hear the raised voices of the brethren singing Colmcille’s famous hymn Altus Prosator.
Regis regum rectissimi
Prope est dies Domini:
Dies irae et uindicatae
Tenebrarum et nebulae …
King of Kings, of Lords most high
The day of judgement comes nigh:
Day of wrath and vengeance stark
Day of shadows, cloudy dark …
Eadulf smiled as he glanced at Fidelma. ‘That seems appropriate in the circumstances.’
Fidelma paused, head to one side, listening. Beyond the gates of the abbey the sound of horses came to their ears. It was the movement of several mounted riders. She smiled with satisfaction. ‘Indeed, the strands are finally coming together to complete the tapestry.’
Gormán appeared from the direction of the stables and a moment later Brother Echen hurried to open the gates. The leading horseman, a warrior, carrying the rampant stag banner of the Eóghanacht, came trotting into the quadrangle. Behind the standard bearer they saw Caol, the commander of the Nasc Niadh, bodyguards to the King of Muman, and behind him rode Fidelma’s brother, Colgú, with Ségdae, Abbot of Imleach and Chief Bishop of Muman. His steward, Brother Madagan, rode behind, with an elderly man, while two more warriors of the bodyguard brought up the rear.
Fidelma and Eadulf hurried across to greet them. Brother Echen seemed to be wringing his hands, at a loss how to cope with so many distinguished visitors. Caol dismounted with a brief acknowledgement to Fidelma before beckoning Brother Echen and giving instructions about the care of their horses. Colgú slid from his horse with a broad smile at his sister and a friendly nod to Eadulf.