‘Who is now chief of the Cinél Cairpre Gabra in his stead?’ Fidelma asked.
‘Ardgal,’ supplied Brehon Barrán. ‘A cousin of Dubh Duin.’
‘Has any contact or embassy been sent to Ardgal and the Cinél Cairpre?’
Cenn Faelad answered. ‘Given the circumstances, it could not be otherwise. The slaughter of a High King by the chief of a clan is no insignificant event. When Aonghus of the Terrible Spear blinded the High King Cormac mac Art, he and his clan, the Déisi, were driven into exile. Half were given sanctuary in your own lands of Muman while the others fled across the sea to Britain and settled in the kingdom called Dyfed.’
Fidelma knew the story well and was impatient. ‘I presume that is a confirmation that Ardgal has been contacted?’
‘Of course. Irél and members of the Fianna, with the Brehon Sedna, were sent to the Cinél Cairpre. Ardgal, the tánaiste, was instructed to pick eight of the leading men of the clan, especially members of Dubh Duin’s immediate family, and send them to Tara to present themselves as hostages for the good behaviour of the clan while the crime of their chief was investigated.’
‘And did they?’ asked Eadulf sceptically. As a Saxon he was, in many ways, still unused to the curious rituals of the law of the Éireannach.
‘Naturally. Ardgal sent eight leading men of his clan as hostages. They have been here for several days at the Mound of the Hostages.’
Fidelma smiled at them all. ‘That is all I need to know from you at this time. Tomorrow I propose to start with questions to the witnesses, such as they are. And, of course, I will wish to see where the assassination took place.’
‘Abbot Colmán will see to all your needs,’ Cenn Faelad agreed quietly. ‘He has full authority to take you wherever you wish to go and also to force all and every one to answer your questions, should they seem reluctant.’
‘That should not be necessary, seeing that I am a dálaigh qualified to the level of anruth,’ Fidelma informed him somewhat tartly.
‘Agreed, but these are not normal times,’ Cenn Faelad sighed. ‘And there is much suspicion here, especially against strangers.’
‘We will do our best to find a resolution to this mystery so that we may return to normal times as soon as possible,’ Fidelma said, not unkindly.
Cenn Faelad rose and they followed his example.
‘And now we have had food for our thoughts,’ he said, ‘let us refresh ourselves with food for our bodies.’
Abbot Colmán opened a side door, revealing a small chamber where a table had been laid out ready.
‘My servants have prepared a cold meal as I did not know what time our discussion might end and, of course, it was better that no servants were present to hear it.’
Eadulf glanced at the table in approval. There were plates of sercoltorsan or cold venison, and slices of mairt-fhéol or beef. A dish of hardboiled goose eggs stood to one side, with dishes of gruth-caisse or curd cheese and hard cheese called tanag, and several kinds of bread. There were salads of cneamh or wild garlic with cress and wood sorrel, mixed with sloes as a condiment, and dishes of hazelnut, apples, whortleberries and honey. Drink was plentfuclass="underline" jugs of cider, juice made from elderflower and apples, and even imported red wine. It was truly a feast.
The conversation as they ate studiously avoided the matter of Sechnussach’s death but turned on the state of the kingdoms, the harvest and the threat of a new outbreak of the feared Yellow Plague that had devastated the country.
Finally, it was time for Fidelma and Eadulf to return to the guesthouse. Cenn Faelad held out his hand to Fidelma.
‘God guide your work, lady. Let us hope for a quick resolution. It is dangerous for the five kingdoms to be without a High King confirmed in ancient ceremony. We have much work to do before we call the provincial kings to my inauguration. We will also need to call the Brehons of Ireland to appoint a new Chief Brehon as well.’
Fidelma was puzzled and glanced towards Brehon Barrán with an unspoken query.
Cenn Faelad saw the glance and explained. ‘As we have said, Barrán is my cousin and I have persuaded him to stand as my tánaiste, for his will be a steady hand in helping to govern. Therefore, we need to find a new Chief Brehon to fill his place. That is why there is now urgency in resolving matters.’
‘Then I will do my best to ensure that the result matches the urgency,’ she promised. ‘We will have to make an early start in the morning when it is light. I would like to see over Sechnussach’s chambers.’
‘There is not much to see there,’ Cenn Faelad replied. ‘Since the assassination took place, most things have been cleared from the apartments.’
‘Nevertheless,’ insisted Fidelma, ‘it is good to see where the crime took place so that I can visualise the events.’
Abbot Colmán said: ‘In that case I will come by the guesthouse after you have broken your fast and take you there. As Cenn Faelad said, you have only to ask, and I am at your service.’
‘Then we will make a start after breakfast,’ replied Fidelma solemnly.
CHAPTER SIX
Eadulf woke just before first light.
He could hear Fidelma’s regular breathing and knew that she was still asleep. At first he did not know why he had awoken and then he heard the noise of a pan being moved from the ircha, the kitchen area of the guesthouse. He looked out of the window and saw from the sky that it would soon be dawn. He wanted to turn over and go back to the warm comfort of the dream he was having but knew that, even if he could recapture the moment, within moments he would be roused sharply. With a sigh, he decided to make the best of it and crept out of bed.
If someone was already stirring in the kitchen, he could take the opportunity to wash before Fidelma and the others rose. He went to the door and opened it softly so as not to disturb her, and moved out into the corridor.
Having passed beyond the door he now heard the soft whispers of a conversation. He wondered who was awake apart from himself. Stepping quietly down the corridor, he then halted in embarrassment as he heard a female voice. He tried to place where he had heard it before and then he recalled that it was the plainfaced girl with the strange name — what was it? — Cnucha?
It was not her tone but what she said that halted him.
‘She is a …’ He did not understand the word that was used but had a feeling it was not a nice expression. Resentfully, the girl’s voice continued: ‘I don’t see why I should do her work for her!’
‘Because there is no one else to do it, my girl. That is why.’
He did not recognise the stern tones of the woman who answered her.
‘She is always getting out of her duties recently, ever since … ever since — well, you know.’
‘I have no time to argue, Cnucha. The meal for the guests must be prepared and the water heated for their wash. When Báine is not here, then it is up to you to fulfil these chores.’
‘It occurs to me that Báine is hardly ever here when needed. She spends too much time with the High King’s daughter, if you ask me.’
‘She cannot help the fact that the lady Muirgel has taken a fancy to her company. And you are in enough trouble with Muirgel and Brehon Barrán without complaining about others.’
The girl sniffed. ‘It was not my fault.’
‘They caught you searching the High King’s chambers the day after the assassination. Why were you doing that?’