‘And you say that your only connection with Dubh Duin was to pass him through the gates to bring him to your mother?’
‘It was.’
‘The reason being so that no one would associate his coming with your mother?’ Eadulf queried.
‘Yes. No one was to know that it was my mother that Dubh Duin had come to see,’ agreed Muirgel quietly, wiping her eyes.
‘Why was that?’ asked Eadulf.
The girl turned on him with a pitying look. ‘Why do you think?’ she countered.
‘Is that speculation or are you stating that you knew positively that your mother was having an affair with Dubh Duin?’ Fidelma asked.
Muirgel turned back to her and shrugged. ‘I am old enough to make my own deductions. However, my role was simply to escort him to my mother’s chamber and there I left them together. You must ask my mother, should you want to know the details of the matter.’
‘Lady Muirgel, you continued as an intermediary, having guessed the purpose of Dubh Duin’s visits to your mother’s chambers. Surely you did not approve of this?’ Abbot Colmán said nervously. ‘How could she and you betray your father into cuckoldry?’
‘It was no business of mine,’ the girl said sulkily. ‘My mother made that clear to me. You must have known that she and my father had been estranged these last three years and that he had taken a dormun for his needs.’
The old abbot winced slightly. ‘I knew of no such thing,’ he protested.
Fidelma looked from the abbot to the girl and back again.
‘This is important information, Colmán,’ she said quietly. ‘If Sechnussach had taken a dormun, a second wife, then I should have been informed.’
‘I had no knowledge of it,’ the abbot insisted. ‘I am sure the Brehon Barrán had no knowledge of it either. If anyone would know about such a thing, it would have been him.’
‘You say that it is so?’ Fidelma looked the girl in the eye.
‘I do not know it for a fact,’ she said reluctantly. ‘No one admits to it, and no one has identified any particular woman. All I know is that when my mother was pregnant with my baby sister, she claimed that she had discovered that my father had taken another woman to share his bed. That was when she insisted on her own apartments.’
‘You speak of a dormun as a second wife,’ Eadulf said. ‘I am not sure that I understand this. I thought the word meant a mistress or a concubine.’
It was Abbot Colmán who enlightened him.
‘Under our old law system, men could take a second wife who had fewer rights than the cétmuintir or first wife. The second wife was called a dormun. The custom is dying out, although some of our powerful kings and nobles insist on continuing the practice.’
Eadulf had heard of polygamy among other peoples.
‘Such practices are condemned by Rome,’ he commented piously.
‘Rome’s judgements on this matter are offered as a counsel of perfection and not a rule,’ the abbot stated. ‘Second marriages are still accepted under our law system.’
‘There is currently a controversy among the Brehons on this matter,’ Fidelma informed them. ‘It is often argued whether monogamy or polygamy is the more proper form of marriage. At the moment, the judgement is that those who wish to take a second wife do not trespass against the teaching of the New Faith. The Bretha Crólige points out that God’s chosen people lived in a plurality of marriages — Solomon, David and Jacob had many wives — therefore it is not more difficult to condemn polygamy than it is to praise it. Even if Sechnussach had taken a second wife, he stands within the law.’
‘Monogamy is a counsel of perfection,’ muttered Abbot Colmán again.
‘However, unless there is evidence that Sechnussach took a dormun, according to law, then this remains speculation,’ added Fidelma.
‘My mother believed it,’ growled Muirgel.
‘Then we will question your mother,’ Fidelma assured her, rising from her chair. ‘For the moment, that will be all, Muirgel. However, I will want to talk with you again. I advise you to say nothing of this matter for the time being.’
The girl simply stared indifferently as they left her.
Outside, Fidelma turned to Abbot Colmán and said, ‘Surely there must have been some indication of what the girl has told us? An estrangement between Sechnussach and his wife — rumours of his taking a second wife? The royal enclosure of Tara is not so big that such matters would go unnoticed and unremarked.’
Abbot Colmán met her gaze with a serious expression.
‘Of the estrangement, perhaps we should have guessed,’ he said. ‘We knew that since the birth of little Be Bhail, the lady Gormflaith has kept to herself and only appeared at her husband’s side on those occasions where it was deemed necessary. Sometimes, though, after the birth of a child, a woman can take curious fancies into her mind. Be despondent and depressed. We merely thought that Gormflaith might have been experiencing such feelings.’
Fidelma coloured slightly for she knew exactly what Colmán meant. It had been her own experience after the birth of her son, Alchú.
‘But after three years …?’ she pressed.
‘Well, all I can say is that during these past three years, if Sechnussach did take a second wife, it was a secret so well-kept that no one knew of her existence.’
‘Perhaps it was well-kept from his advisers or even his tánaiste,’ Eadulfobserved, ‘but it could hardly have been a secret from the servants who attended him. Perhaps we should speak with them?’
Fidelma nodded approvingly. ‘A good thought.’
‘I think I am beginning to see the reason for the assassination of the High King,’ Eadulf suddenly said with confidence.
‘You are?’
‘It is obvious that if Gormflaith had taken Dubh Duin as a lover, then the pair of them might have conspired to kill Sechnussach so that Gormflaith would be free.’
Fidelma pursed her lips. ‘You think so?’
‘Gormflaith would not be the first woman to conspire with a lover to murder her husband.’
Fidelma simply shook her head. ‘Under the law, they had no need to recourse to that act. She could surely have divorced. However, we will see firstly what Gormflaith has to say.’
Enquiries revealed that Gormflaith and her second daughter Murgain were out riding but were thought to be returning within the hour. The three of them left the Tech Laoghaire and began to walk back across the royal enclosure towards the guests’ hostel.
‘Perhaps Brehon Barrán would be able to contribute to this mystery about a second wife?’ Abbot Colmán suggested.
‘Is the Brehon still in Tara?’
Abbot Colmán affirmed that he was, adding, ‘He has his own residence just outside the royal enclosure. But I think he is working at the hall of the Great Assembly.’
Fidelma thought about it but then dismissed the idea.
‘It would be better to see Gormflaith first, without rousing ideas that might prove false,’ she decided.
At that moment they saw Caol and Gormán approaching them. The men looked worried.
‘Lady.’ Caol halted.
‘What is the matter?’ asked Fidelma, gazing from him to Gormán.
Caol looked anxiously at Abbot Colmán.
‘Come, speak up. There are no secrets among us here,’ urged Fidelma, not unkindly.
‘We have seen Badb again.’
‘The old woman?’ Fidelma was surprised.
Gormán nodded rapidly. ‘She appeared out of nowhere as we werewalking by the guesthouse. She shook her fist at us and told us to beware and return from whence we came — even as she did at the river.’
‘Lady,’ said Caol, ‘as you know, we of the Nasc Niadh are afraid of no mortal. She appeared and then she seemed to vanish again, and although we searched, being mindful of what you said before, we could not find her.’