‘Lady, we may be afraid of nothing in this world, but if there is the Otherworld to contend with, then we need to be told. Is it mortals with whom we deal, or might we be dancing with demons?’ added Gormán.
Abbot Colmán looked taken aback by what the two warriors had to say and was about to speak when Eadulf cleared his throat nervously and turned to Fidelma.
‘I did not mention it before, but I too have seen the old woman again — as we were coming from the cells after speaking with Erc. I came out into the light and there she was, standing on the wall. She repeated this same warning and when I blinked again she had disappeared.’
Fidelma regarded him thoughtfully. ‘I wondered why you behaved so strangely. You ran to the wall to look for her?’
‘I did. And there was no sight of her. Is she mortal or demon? I have no liking for mysterious apparitions.’
Caol and Gormán muttered their agreement but Fidelma was having none of it.
‘To all mysteries there is a rational explanation,’ she announced.
‘But,’ Caol protested, glancing at the abbot for support, ‘begging your pardon, there is nothing rational when dealing with that which is beyond mortal explanation.’
‘I would offer my counsel if I understood what it was that you are talking about,’ the Abbot said fretfully.
He listened attentively while Fidelma told him of the meeting at the river crossing. He then asked for a closer description of the woman who called herself Badb. Finally, he allowed himself a sad chuckle.
‘Poor Mer,’ he said. ‘I suppose that she could alarm those not used to her and her odd ways.’
‘Mer?’ queried Fidelma.
‘We call her Mer the Demented. She is old and crazy and always scavenging around Tara. She probably picked up the news that you had been sent for, to investigate the death of Sechnussach. Then she dressed it up in her own fashion. She clings to the Old Faith but there is no evil in her.She is crazy — but God blesses the insane and foolish, so we are told. She does no harm.’
‘No harm when she utters curses and warnings?’ Eadulf grunted, feeling a complete fool.
‘No harm, Brother Saxon,’ the abbot insisted. ‘Here, we overlook her eccentricities. Her husband was killed at the great battle of Carn Conaill and that is what unhinged her mind.’
‘That took place a long time ago,’ Caol grumbled. ‘It was a battle in Connacht.’
‘You know your history well, warrior,’ affirmed the abbot. ‘No one knows what Mer’s real name was, for that is the name she has been called since then. She was a woman of Connacht. Her husband was a warrior in the army of Guaire, the King of Connacht. The story is that an argument rose between Guaire and Diarmait of Tara. When Diarmait moved an army against him, Guaire sent to ask for a truce. But the abbot of Cluain Mic Nois and all his clergy urged Diarmait on to slaughter Guaire’s army. The clerics of Cluain Mic Nois came to the field of the battle to pray and call upon God to support the victory.’
‘Why are you telling us this?’ Eadulf wanted to know.
‘Because, as I say, I think that is what deranged her and why she became Mer the Demented One. Her husband was killed and so she not only blamed Diarmait of Tara but all the priests of the New Faith. She came to Tara to haunt it, so it is said, and call down imprecations on it and its entire clergy in the name of the old gods and goddesses. No one knows where she dwells, but she has scavenged for food and been seen around the hills of Tara for many years.’
‘A tragic lady, then?’ Fidelma glanced to Caol and Gormán, who were looking embarrassed. ‘Not a demon but merely a mortal woman who feels life has treated her badly. One to be pitied and not to be feared.’
‘She is as God made her,’ added Abbot Colmán. ‘No worse nor better than many. She need not alarm you.’
‘She knew Fidelma’s name and why we were coming to Cashel,’ Eadulf said defensively. ‘That was alarming enough.’
‘She is mortal,’ the abbot replied. ‘Understand, she is old and sick.’
‘Well, there is one thing which I still do not understand,’ Eadulf replied stubbornly.
‘Which is?’ asked Fidelma.
‘How did the old woman recognise you? She was sitting by the riveras we rode by and accosted you by name and title. How could she do that?’
For a moment Fidelma paused, thinking, and then: ‘Maybe she saw me on my last visit here,’ she suggested. ‘Don’t forget, many years ago I studied here at Brehon Morann’s school.’
‘Then this woman Mer must have a long memory for faces,’ muttered Eadulf.
‘Perhaps,’ Fidelma said, dismissing the subject. ‘But now we have other and more pressing matters to attend to.’ She turned to the abbot. ‘I have no wish to take up your time, Abbot Colmán. I am sure you have more important things to do in governing the royal household.’
The abbot took the hint and was almost eager to do so.
‘Indeed, I do have tasks that need to be attended to,’ he said. ‘Let us meet up at the etar-shod, the middle-meal of the day, and you can tell me if you have been able to gather any further information.’ Then he went off about his duties.
Eadulf cast a puzzled glance in Fidelma’s direction. ‘It seems to me that you almost wanted to be rid of him.’
‘Discerning as ever, Eadulf,’ she replied softly. ‘I do want to see Gormflaith on her own. And it is not wise to constantly have a witness to all one’s investigations.’
Fidelma and Eadulf, with Caol and Gormán following and still somewhat morose, continued their journey towards the guesthouse. A warrior emerged from a nearby building and Fidelma called his name.
‘Lugna! The very person!’
The young warrior halted nervously. ‘You want me, lady?’
‘Indeed, I do. I would like you to come with us, if you will.’ She nodded towards the Tech Cormaic. ‘There is something I am not sure about.’
The warrior fell in step with them. ‘I am only too happy to be of service. What can I help with?’ he ventured after some silence.
‘I think you are the only person who can help,’ Fidelma assured him as they halted outside the oak doors. The warrior on guard regarded them with unconcealed curiosity.
Fidelma turned to Caol and Gormán and motioned them to follow her while telling Lugna to stay with Eadulf before the main doors.
After halting at the corner of the building and apparently giving instructions to them, she returned, leaving Gormán in view while Caol disappeared to the back of the building. She smiled brightly at a puzzled Lugna.
‘It is just a little experiment,’ she assured him. ‘You see, I am puzzled by the noise you heard in the kitchen area and why it did not rouse the rest of the house.’
‘I have told you all I know,’ Lugna replied with suddenly set features.
‘Of course you have. But, alas, I have to envision it for myself. What we will do is make the noise so that I can be sure of the detail. That’s fair, isn’t it?’
Lugna shrugged but he seemed worried.
‘Eadulf, stand here and when I signal to you, wave to Gormán and then he will make a sign to Caol to go into the kitchen and make a noise. Then we can see exactly how much sound resonates through the house.’
She turned to the doors. ‘Come, Lugna. I believe that you and your comrade were standing in the hallway at your guard post when you heard the noise. Then you came out and went round the side of the house to investigate as the back door was locked — isn’t that right?’
Lugna was clearly unhappy. He seemed to be struggling with his conscience before finally mumbling, ‘It is not right, lady. Forgive me. I have not told the truth.’
‘I thought not,’ Fidelma said. ‘I think, Lugna, it is time you told us what really happened.’
‘We were standing outside the doors here. As I said, we had not gone into the hall.’
‘Go on.’
‘You see, lady, it was a cold night. As I told you, I had just returned with Cuan from checking the guards. We came back to the doors and we would have taken up our position in the hall but it was so cold … there was hot corma in the kitchen and we felt a drink would help keep out the chill air before we settled to our watch.’ His expression was guilt-ridden as he turned haunted eyes from one to another of them. ‘Nothing had ever happened before. Year after year, watch after watch, nothing had ever disturbed the peace of the royal enclosure. It was too well-guarded. How were we to know that … that … ’