‘And is it not said that the doorstep of a great house is often slippery?’ replied Fidelma. ‘Respect is something that is earned and not given by right of birth. I knew your father, Sechnussach, and he earned my respect. That is why I have travelled from Cashel to discover the reasons for his death.’
The girl’s chin jutted as if she would argue further but Fidelma moved on quickly.
‘Where were you on the night of your father’s assassination?’
Muirgel did not answer.
‘Remember,’ Fidelma warned her, ‘rank bears no privileges against the interrogation of the dálaigh of the rank of anruth. You are bound by honour to answer my questions or be fined accordingly.’
The girl swallowed, then muttered, ‘You have doubtless been told where I was, so there is no need to ask.’
‘I have been told only that some believed that you were here in Tara.’
‘Then that is where I was.’
Fidelma exhaled irritably. ‘All we know is that you did not attend the abbey Cluain Ioraird with your mother and sisters Mumain and Be Bhail. Why not? I am told that they had gone there to offer prayers on the death of your grandmother.’
‘My grandmother died some time ago and I was not close to her.’
‘It was a matter of respect, lady,’ muttered Abbot Colmán, feeling he should say something.
‘Are you telling me what I should do?’ Muirgel turned flashing angry eyes on him.
Fidelma and Eadulf glanced at one another. Here was certainly an unpleasant and self-willed young girl. At another time, Fidelma would have intervened for her ill manners to the abbot but she wanted information.
‘When and where did the news of your father’s death reach you?’
‘I spent the evening with a … some friends. Then I came here as thegirl,’ she gestured towards the door to indicated her departed servant, ‘as the girl will tell you. In the morning, I had decided to go to my father’s house and break my fast with him. But a servant arrived here as I was making ready and told me the news.’
Fidelma could not sense any emotion in the girl’s matter-of-fact voice.
‘Did you like your father?’ The question was swift and unexpected.
Muirgel blinked. ‘Of course,’ she said, tossing her head.
‘That is good to hear,’ Fidelma replied. ‘It does not always follow that a daughter likes a father. She can love her father but that is not what I asked.’
Muirgel did not respond to this, merely looked at her nails.
‘So what were your feelings when you heard of his death?’ Fidelma tried again.
‘I wanted those involved to pay for this outrage. Naturally.’
‘Those involved? You think there was more than the assassin who struck him down?’
Muirgel pouted again. It seemed a favourite habit. ‘I have no knowledge of such things,’ she said, and yawned. ‘I was using an expression, that is all.’
‘But you did know the assassin,’ Fidelma pointed out. ‘When did you first meet Dubh Duin?’
The girl’s eyes widened at her knowledge and she said nothing for a moment, trying to read what lay behind Fidelma’s question.
‘Dubh Duin was a distant relation, a chief of the Cairpre,’ she said finally.
‘We all know who he was,’ Fidelma said. ‘Come on — when did you first get to know him?’
‘I don’t know.’ Muirgel hesitated a moment more. ‘He used to attend my father’s Great Assembly. Perhaps it was then that I met him.’
‘He came often to the Great Assembly?’
Muirgel indicated Abbot Colmán. ‘The abbot here would be better able to answer you for he is adviser and steward to the Assembly.’
‘I suppose what I really want to ask is what relationship you had with Dubh Duin during these last few weeks?’
The girl suddenly turned bright scarlet and half-rose from her couch.
‘Relationship?’ she screeched. ‘What? How dare you! What are you implying?’
‘I was not aware that I was implying anything.’ Fidelma remainedrelaxed. ‘I was merely asking a question that needs an answer. I want to know why you gave authority to the guards to pass Dubh Duin through the gates of the royal enclosure after midnight on more than one occasion in the days leading up to your father’s assassination.’
There was total silence in the room. If a needle had fallen, Eadulf believed he would have been able to hear it in the stillness.
‘Who said …?’ began the girl.
Fidelma made an impatient gesture. ‘Come, Muirgel, you do not think that such a thing could go unrecorded or unnoticed? Isn’t it time that you spoke honestly about this matter?’
For a moment or two the girl relapsed into silence. Then she spoke slowly, as if measuring her words.
‘I did not know Dubh Duin other than having seen him among those attending the Great Assembly and perhaps once or twice at my father’s feastings. It was not my desire to have further acquaintance with him. It is the truth that I speak.’
‘Then why-?’
This time it was the girl who held up her hand for silence.
‘On the occasions when I brought him into the royal enclosure after the gates had been secured at nightfall, it was not my desire to do so, nor was it for myself. I was asked to do so. My role in this matter was to use my authority to pass him through the guards at the gate, and then to escort him to the royal enclosure. That was all.’
Fidelma examined the girl impassively.
‘All?’ she queried sardonically. ‘Surely not! You took it on yourself to let this man into the royal enclosure on several occasions after nightfall, to escort him in, and then you say it was not your will nor desire to do so? Come, lady, there is much more you need to tell us. You must have known what reason brought the man hither?’
‘I swear it was not any reason of mine,’ rapped out Muirgel, with a return of her old spirit. ‘I had no liking for Dubh Duin.’
‘Then, why? What reason did he have for coming here?’
‘I do not know,’ she replied stubbornly.
‘For the sake of all that is holy, that is not good enough!’ Fidelma snapped in frustration. ‘If you were told to use your authority to pass this man — the man who assassinated your own father for goodness sake! — into the royal enclosure, who told you to do so?’
The girl fell silent, dropping her gaze to the floor.
Abbot Colmán coughed uncomfortably. ‘Come, lady,’ he said gently. ‘You must tell us all you know. If it wasn’t you that wished Dubh Duin to gain entrance into the royal enclosure, who told you to use your authority to allow that to happen? And why would you do so? What hold would they have over you, to make such a request and know that you would obey it?’
Muirgel was hanging her head, her shoulders were hunched and shaking, and Eadulf suddenly realised that she was crying.
‘Come, Muirgel,’ Fidelma insisted, unmoved. ‘We have little time to play games. Who ordered you to admit Dubh Duin on these occasions — and why would you obey?’
The girl raised a tearstained face to Fidelma.
‘It was my mother,’ she said simply.
CHAPTER TEN
The only sound that followed the girl’s statement was Abbot Colmán’s sharp exhalation of breath and her continued sobbing.
Fidelma remained impassive.
‘Are you saying that it was your mother, Gormflaith, Sechnussach’s own wife, who used to meet with his assassin at nights in the royal enclosure? ’ she asked slowly.
Muirgal tried to gather herself together. Then, as if she realised that, having admitted thus much, she had to confirm her statement, she replied between sniffs, ‘I have said as much.’
‘And when you took Dubh Duin to your mother, where did she receive him at such an hour?’
‘In this house, in her own chambers,’ the girl said. ‘Since the birth of my baby sister, Be Bhail, three years ago, my mother has had her own residence here. What better than this house, which was built by the great High King Laoghaire? We all live here.’