‘There is bad news from Tara?’ she asked.
‘Caol has not told you?’ demanded Colgú.
‘Caol has told me nothing except that this messenger is from Tara. The expression on your face tells me that he does not bring good news.’
Colgú’s mouth formed a thin line for a moment as though he was hesitant to tell her. Then he said simply: ‘The High King has been murdered.’
There was a pause and, shocked, she looked at the messenger. He seemed to feel the need to confirm Colgú’s statement.
‘It is true, lady. Sechnussach was murdered in his bed.’
Fidelma blinked slightly. The High King had been at her wedding scarcely a year before. She had met him a few times before that and, indeed, had solved a matter of the theft of the official sword of the High Kings of Éireann, without which he would have been prevented from holding office.1 Fidelma had respected Sechnussach for, during the few years he had reigned from Tara over the five kingdoms, he had proved a just and bountiful monarch.
‘Is it known who did this?’ was her next question.
‘It is, lady,’ replied the messenger. ‘It was Dubh Duin of the Cinél Cairpre. He also killed himself when the High King’s guards rushed into the chamber.’
‘The Cinél Cairpre?’ Fidelma thought for a moment.
‘A northern tribe,’ Colgú explained. ‘They claim descent from Cairbre, one of the sons of Niall of the Nine Hostages. They dwell around Loch Gomhna, the Lake of the Calf, in the High King’s own territory of Midhe.’
‘They are Uí Néill, then?’
‘Distantly related to the High King’s own family who descend from another son of Niall. In fact, the Cinél Cairpre once provided a High King themselves — Tuathal Maelgarb. But that was well over a century ago.’
‘And what was the motive for the murder? A blood feud?’
The messenger sighed. ‘Alas, that is not known, lady.’
‘But some reason must be suspected?’
The young man glanced at Colgú as if asking him to respond.
‘This messenger has come here from the High King’s tánaiste, his heir apparent …’ Colgú paused and shrugged. ‘The next High King, Cenn Faelad.’
‘Sechnussach’s brother? I have met him.’
‘Cenn Faelad sends his messenger with a request: that you make the journey to Tara and undertake the enquiry into the causes of the murder of the High King.’
Fidelma looked astonished. ‘But what of the Chief Brehon, Barrán? Surely it is he who should conduct this enquiry?’
‘That is impossible, sister. You see, Barrán is of the Uí Néill, too. He is cousin of Sechnussach and Cenn Faelad. Apparently the Great Assembly, or those of it who were present in Tara, felt that someone from outside the Uí Néill should undertake this investigation, someone who is not seen as partisan to one branch of the Uí Néill or another. As both victim and assassin were members of different branches of the Uí Néill it is feared that, at best, a blood feud could arise or, at worst, a war that would have devastating effects on the unity of the five kingdoms. The investigation should be seen to be without bias.’
Fidelma thought for a moment. ‘And what if such an investigation found that it was an internal Uí Néill quarrel?’
Colgú shrugged eloquently. ‘The truth is the truth, Fidelma, and truth is often a bitter fruit.’
‘There is another aspect that you might have forgotten, brother,’ Fidelma said. ‘The motivation of the Eóghanacht for their intervention in this matter might also be questioned.’
Colgú looked perplexed, then replied, ‘The motivation is that you have been requested to investigate by the Great Assembly. Neither I, nor my tánaiste, Finguine, who have a right to sit in the Great Assembly, were privy to this decision. So what other motivation could be ascribed to the Eóghanacht?’
‘If there is strife between the septs of the Uí Néill, then the Eóghanacht might be suspected of taking advantage of the situation to reassert the old tradition of also providing High Kings.’
‘One needs a long memory to go back to the old days when the Uí Néill and the Eóghanacht contended with each other to elect one of their number to the role of High King!’ Colgú scoffed. ‘Why, according to our chroniclers, it is five centuries ago when the last Eóghanacht was High King.’
Fidelma smiled gently. ‘You see, brother? Even you can put a dateto it when our ancestor Duach Donn was High King. People do not forget.’
But Colgú was adamant. ‘No one could seriously bring forward the accusation that I, or any Eóghanacht, want to claim the High Kingship. The Uí Néill have maintained the office for too many centuries now. We are content with our own kingdom of Muman.’ He looked his sister in the face. ‘Are you saying that you do not want this mission?’
Fidelma grimaced. ‘I am saying that I will undertake it for the sake of the memory of Sechnussach. The truth about his assassination deserves to be known. Out of respect and my duty to the next High King, Cenn Faelad and the Great Assembly, I will go to Tara even though it grieves me to desert my son after returning here a short time. But it is fair to be aware of any pitfalls that lie ahead.’
Colgú seemed to relax and he smiled at his sister.
‘We are not always in control of our destinies, Fidelma. I will ensure the boy is well looked after. I presume that you will take Eadulf?’
She nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘Can I suggest that you also take Caol? It will take you several days to ride north to Tara and you do not know what dangers may be in wait. If a High King can be assassinated …’ He left the sentence unfinished.
‘I will be happy to accompany the lady Fidelma and her husband,’ Caol suddenly broke in. He had stood in silence during the whole of the exchange and now felt he should say something, since he had been referred to. ‘I would suggest one other warrior of the guard accompany me.’
‘Who did you have in mind?’ queried Colgú.
‘All my warriors are fine men but perhaps it would be best to take Gormán. He has accompanied the lady Fidelma before. He is not only adept with his weapons but has a good mind and is able to act on his own initiative.’
‘An excellent choice, Caol. Do you agree, Fidelma?’
She inclined her head. ‘I am happy with the choice. It is too late to begin the journey today, so I suggest we leave at first light tomorrow. If we make a steady pace and do not overtax the horses, we can be in Tara within five days. I will go and tell Eadulf.’ She turned towards the door.
‘Much hangs in the balance of this investigation, Fidelma,’ Colgú called after her. ‘Perhaps the peace of the five kingdoms itself …’
CHAPTER THREE
Fidelma was correct in that her party, consisting of four riders, reached the gates of the palace of the High King at Tara in the afternoon of the fifth day after leaving Cashel. The five kingdoms of Éireann were well provided with roads. There were six different types of road and each of them classified by a different name. They ranged from a small track called lámrota to the great highways called slíge. There were only five slíge. These were the main arteries of the five kingdoms, which all converged at Tara. The highway that ran from the kingdom of Muman to Tara was called the Slíge Dalla or the Way of the Blind. It carried its unusual name because it was said that it was such a good and well-kept highway that a blind person would have no problem traversing it. It spanned rivers with bridges of wood and stone called droichet and crossed marshes and bogs on causeways called tóchar. A slíge was constructed so that two large wagons had plenty of space to pass one another without having to slow down.