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‘Ah?’ Eadulf said, putting a question into the soft breath.

‘I was sent here today by Brother Rogallach especially to look after the lady Fidelma and yourself.’

‘Brother Rogallach?’

‘He is in charge of all those who serve in the High King’s household. He is the bollscari — the High King’s factotum.’

‘And you have served in the royal household long?’

‘Since the age of choice.’

Eadulf knew that girls reached the aimsir togú or age of choice when they came to their fourteenth birthday.

‘That cannot be long ago,’ he mused.

‘Five years ago,’ the girl replied in seriousness, not recognising that Eadulf was paying a clumsy compliment.

‘A lifetime,’ he smiled indulgently.

‘It seems so … now,’ Báine replied with a curious pause.

‘Were you serving in the household when the High King was slain?’

She blinked and nodded dumbly.

‘It must have been a shock for you?’

Báine swallowed and said, ‘A great shock. Sechnussach was a … a kind man to serve. He was gracious and generous to those who attended him.’

‘Then it is a great sadness. You were actually in the house when the assassin broke in?’

‘I was in my bed, asleep.’

‘Quite so. I had heard it was not long before dawn that it occurred. So undoubtedly you were woken by the sounds of that awesome discovery.’

To his surprise the girl shook her head. ‘I was roused from my bed by Brónach who told me what had happened. I slept through the noise of the discovery.’

‘Who is Brónach?’

‘She is the senior female attendant in the High King’s household. There are only three of us in the immediate household. She is older than us and so takes charge of us.’

Eadulf was about to press the girl for further information when Fidelma’s voice hailed her from the bathing room.

With a muttered apology, Báine turned to answer the call. Eadulf remained, thoughtfully sipping at his apple juice. A few moments later the door of the guests’ hostel opened and another girl entered. She was slightly built, wearing dowdy clothes, with unremarkable brown hair and almost plain features. It made her seem younger than she actually was which, in Eadulf’s estimation, was not more than eighteen. Her whole stance seemed that of someone who wished they were anywhere else but here. She regarded Eadulf with one quick frightened glance before dropping her gaze to the floor.

‘Forgive me,’ she muttered, clasping her hands before her, her shoulders slightly bent as if to make herself as small as possible.

‘Absolvo te a peccatis tuis,’ responded Eadulf jocularly. ‘I forgive you all your sins.’

For a moment the girl was startled, raising her gaze to his before quickly looking down again.

‘You are making a joke, Brother,’ she said, then added: ‘I am looking for Báine. I was told to ask if she needed help.’

Eadulf smiled kindly. ‘She is attending in the bathhouse at the moment. And who are you?’

‘I am Cnucha.’

Eadulf reflected for a moment. ‘I thought that meant a small hill? I have heard a legend of how the great warrior Cumal, the father of Fionn of the Fianna, was killed at the Battle of Cnucha.’

The girl, eyes still focused on the floor, added to this: ‘It is also the name of the wife of Geanann, one of the five great kings of the Fir Bolg who first divided this island into the five kingdoms.’

Eadulf felt guilty at his amusement in reaction to the slight note of pride that entered into this drab servant’s voice.

‘And who were these … what did you call them — Fir Bolg? Who were they who divided this land into five kingdoms? I have heard only that your people were descended from the children of Milesius and are called Gaels.’

The girl raised her chin a little. Eadulf heard a note of pride again. ‘The children of Milesius were the last people to arrive in this land. The Fir Bolg had conquered this island back in the mists of time, many generations before the coming of the children of the Gael. The five kings met at Uisnech, the sacred centre of the land, and it was from there that they divided it so that each one would rule a fifth.’

Uisnech again. Fidelma had explained its significance to him after the old woman had mentioned it at the bridge. Even the coming of Christianity had not displaced it as a great sacred ceremonial site, for it was thought to be the ‘omphalos’ or navel of the five kingdoms of Éireann, the point where the five kingdoms met. It was the spot where the goddess Eire, whose name had been given to the entire island, was venerated in ancient times. And it was the place where the Druids of the Old Faith gathered to light the ritual fires at the time of Beltane, the fires of Bél, marking the end of the dark half of the year.

‘So you are proud of your name?’ he observed.

Once again the girl’s eyes flickered to his and this time he saw some tiny sparks of emotion.

‘My name is all I have,’ she said simply. ‘I am a servant in this place. And, if you will forgive me, I will now go to Báine and see if she needs my help.’

She left as Caol and Gormán entered. Eadulf motioned to the jugs of drinks and suggested they help themselves.

Caol sprawled on a chair and stared moodily at his drink while Gormán leaned against the wall.

‘You two do not look happy,’ observed Eadulf.

Gormán shrugged indifferently. ‘I can’t say that I am happy to be here,’ he acknowledged.

Caol smiled thinly. ‘I think he is worried by the old woman at the ford.’

Gormán did not seem offended. ‘You have to admit it was an unusual welcome to Tara. We have received better ones. I was raised on the old legends of the goddess of death and battles waiting at a ford and warning people of their death.’

Eadulf was not going to confess that he, too, had felt an apprehension about the old woman. He merely said: ‘Well, she did not foretell our deaths. She merely told us to return to Cashel, which I am sure we will do as soon as possible. After all, this affair cannot keep us here long. Sechnussach is dead, we know who killed him and we know that the assassin took his own life. There is little enough to investigate.’

‘Then why did the Great Assembly send for the lady Fidelma?’ demanded Gormán.

‘Merely to have someone unconnected with the events pronounce the findings,’ replied Eadulf calmly. ‘It seems a logical enough request.’

‘There is a feeling of gloom in the place,’ Gormán sighed, not assuaged.

‘Why wouldn’t there be? Is it often that a High King is murdered?’ countered Eadulf.

‘True. Neither is it so often that religious are slain in an attack for no good reason.’

‘You are thinking of the deaths on the Plain of Nuada?’ mused Eadulf. ‘There does seem some atmosphere of restlessness in this kingdom of Midhe.’

Caol drained his beaker with a decisive motion. ‘Well, there are robbers and outlaws in every kingdom. Even in Muman. Mind you, things have become very quiet now since the Uí Fidgente have decided to pay their respects to Cashel.’ He grinned wryly and added, ‘In fact, I quite miss the conflict.’

Eadulf shot him a look of disapproval. ‘You miss conflict? That is not a good thing to-’ he began, but Caol held up a hand, stopping him.

‘I should be specific in that I miss the excitement that is attendant on the conflict. Of course it is not right to be addicted to death and battle. So, when will you and the lady Fidelma start to consider this matter?’

‘Probably not until tomorrow. My guess is that we will be here a few days at the most. We shall know better after we have seen the heir to the High Kingship, Cenn Faelad, this evening.’

At that moment, Báine returned and announced that the water had now been heated for Eadulf’s bath. He rose with an inward groan. The one thing he had never grown used to among the people of Éireann was this custom of having an evening bath before the main meal. He would never grow used to it, not if he lived to be a hundred. Then he summoned a smile for the girl and adopted an enthusiastic tone. ‘Lead the way.’