‘I wonder what could have brought him hither?’ muttered the abbot.
‘Whatever it was, it sounds as though he was summoned by the High King himself,’ Fidelma pointed out.
‘Why so?’
‘Because he came escorted by the commander of the High King’s warriors and Brother Rogallach was sent to the gate to ensure they were admitted to the royal enclosure.’
‘Do you think that this has something to do with his subsequent assassination? ’ Abbot Colmán asked.
‘That would be speculation. At this stage, more information has to be gathered,’ Fidelma said quickly. ‘It is only later that one can put it all in a proper perspective. So anything that happens that is unusual in the time leading up to the assassination is of interest.’
‘No speculation without information,’ grinned Eadulf, addressing himself to the abbot and paraphrasing one of Fidelma’s axioms.
Fidelma rose to her feet.
‘I think this is all I need from this man for the time being,’ she told the abbot, indicating the woeful countenance of Erc. ‘Erc is only guilty of a mistake caused by presumption. He is not guilty of any involvement in the assassination. Therefore, I would say it is up to his commander todiscipline him for lack of attention while on watch and not for any other punishment.’
Erc glanced up from where he sat, a gleam of hope on his face.
‘Do you say so truly, lady?’ he asked.
‘A mistake is still a grave offence when the life of a High King hangs in the balance, Erc the Speckled. I suspect you will be demoted from the guard of the royal enclosure.’
But it was clear that Erc had expected a far worse punishment for his transgression and he was looking more optimistic than he had at first appeared in his dungeon confinement.
Eadulf led the way up the narrow stone stairs from the cell to the door to the outside world. He paused for a moment, trying to focus his eyes against the bright sun, and became immediately aware of a figure a short distance away — a hunched figure seated on a low stone wall. He heard his name spoken in a rasping breathless voice. He was trying to remember where he had heard it before when he gave a gasp. It was the old woman they had encountered at the bridge. She was laughing at him now with a toothless, gaping mouth but there was no sound.
He blinked rapidly, trying to focus properly but when he did so there was no longer any figure seated there. A cold chill spread through his body, and he wheeled round towards his companions.
‘Where to now, Fidelma?’ Abbot Colmán was asking.
‘We have to speak with Muirgel, and also I need to question Irél, the guard commander who came hither with this Bishop Luachan, as well as Brother Rogallach.’
‘Did you see her?’ Eadulf gulped, staring from Fidelma to the abbot.
‘See who?’ asked the abbot distractedly.
Eadulf ran across to the low wall and peered over it. No one was hiding there and he gazed round in all directions. The old woman had vanished.
‘What’s wrong, Eadulf?’ asked Fidelma.
He hesitated. For some reason, she had not mentioned the encounter at the river to Abbot Colmán so he quickly decided that he should take her lead and speak with her later on the matter privately. He drew a breath and shrugged casually.
‘For a moment I thought I saw someone I recognised. I was mistaken,’ he said, walking back to rejoin them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was chance that dictated that they should next question Irél, the commander of the Fianna at the royal enclosure. They were returning to the library in the royal residence when they met a young warrior emerging from the main doors. He was about twenty-five years old, handsome, with red-brown hair and light blue eyes, cleanshaven jaw and a tall, well-muscled body. His accoutrements proclaimed him a warrior of some importance.
‘Fidelma of Cashel?’ He hailed her before Abbot Colmán identified him.
‘I am she.’
‘Then, lady, I believe you may wish to speak with me. I am Irél of the Fianna, at your service. I am the caithmhileadh.’
Although he was unacquainted with military ranks, Eadulf worked out that this meant that the man commanded a cath or battalion of the High King’s bodyguard.
‘Then, indeed, I do wish a few words,’ replied Fidelma. ‘This is-’
‘Brother Eadulf,’ interrupted Irél with a smile. ‘You name is well-known here in association with the deeds of Fidelma of Cashel. You will not remember me but I commanded the High King’s bodyguard earlier this year when he came down to Cashel to attend your wedding celebrations.’
It was true that neither Fidelma nor Eadulf could recall the warrior but they merely smiled and passed no comment.
‘Come into the library and be seated,’ Fidelma instructed.
Abbot Colmán cleared his throat and said, ‘Lady, if you have no need for my attendance, there are some duties that I have to be about.’
Fidelma agreed that there was no need for him to remain and he hurried off while they followed Irél into the library.
‘Alas,’ Irél observed, as they seated themselves, ‘I cannot help much about the night Sechnussach was murdered. I did not arrive until it was too late. The deed was done and the murderer had killed himself.’
‘We were told that you identified him,’ said Eadulf.
‘I did so,’ said the guard. ‘Dubh Duin was a regular attendee at the Great Assembly. I saw him there several times. His territory lies to the north-west of Midhe and he was one of the most important chieftains of the kingdom.’
‘I understand he was a distant relative of Sechnussach,’ Fidelma said. ‘Was he a close confidant of the High King?’
Irél chuckled derisively. ‘On the contrary, I suspect there was some strong antagonism between them.’
‘How so?’
‘Just the manner, one towards the other, during the debates in the Great Assembly. My duties in the assembly are but to stand as guard there and so I have time to watch the arguments and debates and perhaps notice things which others, more involved in the discussions, might miss. Dubh Duin would support nothing that the High King suggested and always had some objection to it.’
‘So there was no love lost between them. Very well. Let us go back to the night of the assassination. Lugna was the commander of the guard in the royal enclosure that night. Where were you?’
‘My duty had ended when I handed over to Lugna at midnight. I had retired to my chamber in the royal house.’
‘Then you are not married?’ Eadulf stated.
‘I am — I have three sons. Why do you ask?’ queried the warrior with interest.
‘A false assumption,’ replied Eadulf. ‘You say that you had retired to your chamber. I did not know that the families of the guards and attendants stayed in the royal house.’
‘They don’t. I have a farmstead close by the great river — that is where my family live. Being often on duty late at night, I stay here in Tara to save the journey in the middle of the night. Therefore I am provided with a chamber to sleep in.’
‘And what brought you to Sechnussach’s chamber that night?’
‘The sound of a disturbance.’
‘Can you be more specific?’
‘At first, I think my sleep was disturbed by a cry. But I cannot be sure.By the time I was fully awake, I heard several cries as if of a disturbance. I took my sword and threw on a cloak. Anyway, when I reached the chamber, Brother Rogallach was already there and some of the servants. And of course Lugna and Cuan.’
‘Tell us what happened.’
‘I pushed my way through, as the servants were crowded around the chamber door trying to look in. One of the guards had a lantern. I could see the High King lying on his back. Blood was everywhere. Lugna was trying to keep the servants out while Cuan was crouching by the side of a man slumped against the bed. Lugna looked at me and said — “Sechnussach is slain and this is the man who did it”.’ He paused and grimaced. ‘I could tell that Sechnussach was dead. Not that he had bled much from the cutting of his throat. I’ve seen many men slain in battle with blood gushing like a fountain from such a wound and … ’ He paused and looked a little guilty. ‘I beg your pardon, lady. Anyway, I asked whether Lugna had killed the assassin. He replied, sorrowfully, that the man had taken his own life as he and Cuan had entered the chamber. That was when I looked down and recognised Dubh Duin. I sent for Abbot Colmán, being steward.’