Fidelma thanked him and turned to Caol and Gormán. ‘I am going to see Gormflaith. Perhaps you can make yourself useful to Irél and help him find Cuan.’
They acknowledged her diplomatic way of dismissing them without comment. Eadulf accompanied Fidelma back towards the residence of Gormflaith.
‘I need to return to the guesthouse,’ he said. ‘I know you desire to see Gormflaith on your own, but should you not summon Abbot Colmán to attend? After all, she is the widow of the High King.’
Fidelma shook her head. ‘The abbot does not need to oversee all our enquiries, and widow of the High King or not, I am a dálaigh who has been given the task to investigate this matter.’
‘You think that this conspiracy will show that there is a link between the assassin Dubh Duin, Gormflaith and Cuan? It seems logical. Now we know that Cuan is from a clan that is in service to the Cinél Cairpre and that Dubh Duin was, therefore, his chieftain …’
‘I think there is a conspiracy,’ Fidelma interrupted, ‘but, as I have said many times, it is no good speculating until …’
Eadulf groaned softly. ‘I know, I know. No speculation before you have gathered all the facts. Even so …’
‘Even so, Eadulf, the rule cannot be broken. I am thinking that there are more facts that we do not know than the ones we do know.’
Eadulf left her and returned to the guesthouse. It seemed deserted, for which he was grateful because he needed to visit the fialtech or privy that was at the back. Having dutifully washed himself — it had taken him many years to adjust to what he saw as the obsession of the people of the country in washing, with their morning ablutions and then a full bath every evening before the main meal — Eadulf was returning through the guest house when a noise caught his ear from the room in which the meals for the guests were prepared. It was suspiciously like someone sobbing.
He paused, pushed open the door and looked in.
It was the plain-looking girl, Cnucha, who sat at the table with her head buried in her arms, clearly weeping.
‘Can I be of any help to you?’ asked Eadulf gently.
Startled, the girl glanced up and Eadulf saw that one of her cheeks was red and starting to bruise. The girl’s eyes were round with fear for a moment, her mouth an almost perfect ‘o’ shape.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he said contritely. ‘What is wrong?’
The girl seemed to recover her wits and sniffed, wiping away her tears. ‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing?’ smiled Eadulf, sitting down. ‘Nothing does not create tears.’
The girl swiftly put her hand up to her cheek as if to hide it and then seemed to realise the futility of the gesture.
‘There is nothing you can do,’ she said in a dull voice. ‘Thank you for asking.’
‘Perhaps I should be the judge of that,’ Eadulf said firmly. ‘A trouble told is a trouble shared, and a trouble shared is … ’
The girl gave him a quivering smile and said, ‘My trouble is the lady Muirgel. She has taken a dislike to me and it seems she has persuaded the Brehon Barrán that she is in the right.’
‘Why should she dislike you?’ queried Eadulf, suddenly remembering the conversation he had overheard between Cnucha and the senior female servant, Brónach.
‘The lady Muirgel does not have to give reasons.’
‘Surely you will be supported by Brother Rogallach or Abbot Colmán if her behaviour is unreasonable?’
She was anxious again and shook her head. ‘I cannot complain to them.’
‘Why? Who are you afraid of?’
‘I am not afraid. I know that nothing could be done.’
‘Why?’ he demanded.
There was a movement behind him and Cnucha sprang up with a guilty expression.
‘You are forgetting yourself, Cnucha,’ came the iron tone of Brónach. ‘Brother Eadulf is a guest here and you should be attending to his wants, not sitting gossiping.’
Eadulf turned to the attractive woman, who was in charge of the female servants, and said lightly, ‘It is all right, Brónach. I did not need anything. It was just that … ’He turned back to Cnucha and suddenly saw her expression, as if silently imploring him to say no more. Eadulf shrugged. ‘It was just that I wondered how long Cnucha here had worked in Tara and we fell to talking.’
Brónach looked critically at the younger girl. ‘Well, she has many duties to fulfil, Brother Eadulf. And time is pressing. This place must be cleaned, for a start. Anyway, I was looking for Báine. Have you seen her, Cnucha?’
The young girl shook her head and with a sigh the older woman left.
Cnucha looked at him gratefully and mouthed a silent, ‘Thank you.’
Eadulf went to the door to check. It was clear that Brónach had left the guesthouse altogether. He turned back to Cnucha.
‘You need not take any abuse from Muirgel, even if you feel that you are in the wrong,’ he counselled her. ‘Why didn’t you want Brónach to know about it? She might have been able to help as she is in charge.’
‘I know Brónach was very friendly with the High King when he was alive and with his family, so I doubt whether she would stand up for me against Muirgel,’ Cnucha said despondently. ‘And saying anything to Báine is like saying it to Muirgel. They are as thick as thieves, those two. I have often seen them together. Even when her duties are over, Báine often goes to the house of the High King’s — the late High King’s — wife. I am sure she does not go there to see Gormflaith.’
‘I have seen the way Muirgel treats her attendant,’ Eadulf remarked. ‘It is neither courteous nor proper. But what manner of relationship could she have with Báine?’
Cnucha grimaced sourly. ‘Báine! That one! She is a strange person.’ She rubbed a hand across her eyes. ‘But now I must go, Brother Eadulf, lest either of them return and the work is not done.’
‘I will take the blame,’ replied Eadulf to reassure her.
‘I am the one who has to live here,’ replied the girl, unimpressed. ‘You do not.’
Picking up a broom, she began to sweep and thus dismissed, Eadulf left.
Fidelma entered the residence of the wife and children of the High King at the Tech Laoghaire and a maid confirmed that Gormflaith was in her chambers. While the maid went off to see if Gormflaith would receive a visitor, Fidelma moved to the window that provided a view down the hill to the stables. She was about to turn away when she spotted the tall figure of Brehon Barrán strolling to the stables in the company of a young woman. They seemed to be engaged in earnest talk, the young woman leaning close to the elderly judge and touching his arm as if to make a point now and then.
It was only when Fidelma realised that the girl was Muirgel that she paused to take a second look. She wondered if Muirgel was telling him what she had revealed to Fidelma. They had halted and someone was bringing out a horse from the stable. Once again, the girl leaned close to the Brehon and touched his arm, though not in an imperious way; more of an intimate expression. Then she mounted and rode away with Barrán gazing after her for a few moments before turning and walking slowly back in the direction of the royal house from which they had obviously come.
At that moment the maid returned and announced that the lady Gormflaith would see Fidelma immediately.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Eadulf had left the guesthouse and was walking towards the stable buildings when no less a person than Cenn Faelad emerged from them. The commander of his guard, Irél, was at his side and another warrior walked two paces behind, eyes watchful and hand on his sword. Cenn Faelad beckoned in friendly fashion to Eadulf to join him.
‘How are things going with your investigations?’ Cenn Faelad asked. It was the greeting of an equal, with no differentiation of rank or of nationality, and Eadulf felt slightly flattered, although he had heard that Cenn Faelad, in his role as tánaiste, the heir apparent, had earned popularity by being accessible to all his people.