Abbot Colmán appeared irritated. ‘I have heard that story, Fidelma, and the answer is that Murtagh mac Erc sent another stone to his brother Fergus. The true Lia Fail remains here in Tara and always will.’ He turned and glanced at Eadulf. ‘Why are you so interested in the Lia Fail, Brother Eadulf?’
‘Eadulf is always delighted to learn new things about our lands and its legends,’ Fidelma answered for him. ‘Now, Colmán, you were saying that there will be a delay before the inauguration ceremonies for the new High King?’
Eadulf sighed, wondering why Fidelma was apparently unwilling to mention the encounter with the old woman.
They came to a large wooden building at the far end of the royal enclosure. Abbot Colmán indicated that this was the bruden or special guesthouses for the High King’s visitors. He halted outside the doors and turned to Fidelma.
‘With the murder of the High King, even though we know who did the deed, your enquiry into the motives and whether anyone else was involved, is essential before any ceremonies can begin. We have to know all the details. So nothing can be done before you have concluded your investigations. We await your findings.’
‘Surely Cenn Faelad is not suspected of involvement?’ Eadulf asked. ‘After all, Sechnussach was his brother.’
‘Brother Saxon, family feuds are not uncommon,’ Abbot Colmán said. ‘The killer, Dubh Duin, was a member of the southern Ui Néill. Sechnussach was of the same Uí Néill ancestry as Dubh Duin. So, of course, is his brother Cenn Faelad. Some might suspect that there is an internal family quarrel here. A grasping for power. No one is above suspicion here. You can see why it was thought proper that Cenn Faelad should not be named as High King until this matter is resolved.’
Fidelma had already appreciated the point.
‘Where is Sechnussach’s sister, Ornait?’ she asked suddenly.
When Sechnussach was about to be inaugurated as High King, the sacred sword of office, the sword said to have been fashioned by Gobhain, the smith god for the ancestors of the Uí Néill, had been stolen. For a High King not to be inaugurated with the sword and with his foot placed in the Lia Fail, the sacred Stone of Destiny, could have brought chaos and dissension in the five kingdoms. It had been Fidelma who had discovered that the culprits had been Ornait, the sister of Sechnussach, and her lover, Ailill Esa Flann, who had then been the tánaiste or heir apparent.
Abbot Colmán’s eyes sparkled in amusement. ‘I was awaiting your question about Ornait. Her name did cross my mind at the time of the murder,’ he admitted. ‘But, as you know, the Chief Brehon exiled Ornait and her lover Ailill and they went to the kingdom of Rheged on the island of Britain. To my knowledge they have remained there ever since.’
Eadulf was looking bewildered at this exchange and Fidelma relented.
‘I will tell you the story later, Eadulf,’ she promised before turning back to the abbot. ‘The shore of Rheged is only a day’s fair sailing from these shores,’ she said. ‘Ornait and Ailill were ambitious for power five years ago. They could be equally ambitious today and might have a hand in this matter. They would not be the first to be driven into exile and then return to be acclaimed in triumph.’ Fidelma was actually thinking of her own ancestor, Conall Corc, who returned to Muman after his exile not only to become King but also to establish Cashel as his great capital.
‘We would surely have heard some rumour of Ornait’s return if return she has,’ Abbot Colmán argued.
‘Anyway, these are just speculations,’ Fidelma summed up impatiently. ‘There is much to be talked of, but later with Cenn Faelad. Once we are refreshed, and start to gather all the facts, we can put our minds to this problem.’
The abbot nodded and, turning to the bruden doors, he clapped his hands to attract attention.
At once, they were opened and a tall, slim, dark-haired girl came forward to greet them. Her dark eyes seemed to have an angelic quality to them, or so Eadulf thought, and she had a ready smile. ‘Pretty’ was a word that came to his mind. She carried herself with a certain grace.
‘This is Báine,’ Abbot Colmán announced. ‘She will attend to your wants while you are staying in the guesthouse. There is no one else here at the moment and so I have presumed that you will want your escort,’ he nodded at Caol and Gormán, ‘to be on hand. There is room enough for all.’
The girl Báine made a deferential move of her head towards Fidelma. ‘Water is heated, lady, and the dabach is filled ready.’
The dabach was the wooden vat in which one bathed.
‘Good,’ Fidelma said. ‘Then I will seize the opportunity to bathe first.’
Abbot Colmán made his excuses. ‘After you have refreshed yourselves,’ he said, ‘I will come for you and Brother Eadulf to escort you to see Cenn Faelad. He is staying in my house on the other side of the royal enclosure. It was thought better not to move into the royal residence until after things have been settled. The tánaiste has arranged a private meal for you so that we may discuss the matter that brings you hither. Báine will see to it that your warriors are fed.’
He turned with a wave of his hand and moved away towards the central buildings of the royal enclosure.
They followed the young girl into the guests’ hostel. She was thorough and efficient, showing Fidelma and Eadulf to the chamber they would share and then conducting Caol and Gormán to rooms close by. Like most of the buildings, the guests’ hostel was a rectangular structure of wood, mainly oak beams and yew panels, with a thatched roof. It was fairly dark in the interior without seinester or windows to admit light, so the place reeked of the heavy fumes of tallow candles and oil lamps, even though it was still light outside.
It seemed that Fidelma and Eadulf had hardly had time to look roundthe chamber assigned to them and unpack their few belongings from their saddlebags before the girl, Báine, returned.
‘I will take you to your bath, lady,’ she announced. ‘I have laid out all the toiletries you may need; even a comb is provided so you have no need to bring anything else. We have fragrances and items for all your needs.’
Fidelma glanced at Eadulf with an amused expression. ‘Hospitality indeed,’ she murmured, as she left the room to follow the girl.
Hardly any time passed before the girl was back again, knocking gently at the door of the chamber.
‘Excuse me, Brother, but I wonder if you would like a beaker of the juice of crushed apples to slake your thirst while you are waiting for your bath to be prepared?’
‘Indeed, that I would.’ Eadulf smiled gravely.
The girl went to pour the drink and Eadulf followed her into the side room where she was preparing it.
‘Have you served in the guests’ hostel long, Báine?’ he asked.
The girl looked anxious. ‘I hope nothing is amiss, Brother?’
‘No, no.’ He shook his head reassuringly. ‘Nothing at all is wrong. You are very efficient in your work, that is all.’
Báine looked relieved. ‘This is my first time attending to the needs of the guests here. You are my first guests.’
Eadulf raised his eyebrows a little. ‘I would not have realised it. I thought that you had been born to the task.’
The girl handed him the drink and grimaced prettily. ‘I was raised to service — but not in a guests’ hostel. I usually serve in the High King’s household.’