Eadulf had learned by now that it was customary for people to bathe daily and generally in the evening. Cleansing was a ritual, and even for travellers arriving in such extreme circumstances, it was against all protocol not to go through the ritual before meeting the prince. There were baths for visitors in every guest-house of a palace, abbey or even a tavern.
Conri turned with a friendly smile to Enda. ‘I will show you to the laochtech, the house of the warriors, where we have our quarters. There you may also refresh yourself and rest.’
But Fidelma was still lingering. ‘It might be advisable for me to speak immediately with Gorman, before I go to my chamber,’ she said.
Conri glanced at her in disapproval. ‘Lady, even in these circumstances, the protocols must be observed and respected. Having arrived in the prince’s palace as his guest, you and Eadulf must first bathe and then meet with him to discuss matters. Afterwards, Gorman may have your full attention.’
Fidelma knew that to behave in any other fashion would have been a slight against the honour of the prince. When she expressed her acceptance of the situation, the warlord relaxed.
‘Excellent. Follow these attendants and they will show you the way to your quarters. Having been here before, I think you will find the surroundings familiar. I will be attending in the great hall when the bell rings for the feasting.’
As Fidelma and Eadulf followed the attendants into the main palace complex, Eadulf shivered slightly. It was not so long ago that they had been under this very roof, little realising that their host at the time was one of the conspirators who, had he known what they were about, could easily have had them killed. They walked across the same great hall, made more impressive on its inside than the outside walls. Huge tapestries covered the walls, and around the lower parts hung shields bearing the symbols of their owners who had once used them in battle. Swords of many varieties were displayed along with the shields; some were ornate and bejewelled, indicating the wealth of their owners.
At the end of the hall was the prince’s chair of office, an elaborately carved piece of oak with the icons of the Ui Fidgente inscribed on it. It was placed on a small raised platform overlooking a long oak table. Next to it, at a slightly lower level, was a smaller chair – presumably for the heir-apparent of the prince. The table was the very one where they had once dined under the watchful eye of the renegade steward, Cuana.
It was amusing to find they were being led to the same guest chamber that they had occupied at the time of their first visit. This was where the young attendant, Ciarnalt, had warned them of the steward’s treacherous nature.
The attendants laid down the visitors’ bags in the chamber and the elder of the two, a gentle-looking man with white hair and sharp blue eyes, bowed and announced, ‘I shall order water to be heated and the dabach filled for your pleasure. One of the females will attend you, lady, with soap, scents and linen towels.’
The dabach was a large tub or vat-like affair in which heated water was poured and into which bathers could climb. There, with the aid of sleic, or soap, they would cleanse themselves ready for the evening meal.
‘We have a separate facility for you, brother,’ the man added to Eadulf. ‘You will be called when all is ready. Is there anything else that you require in the meantime?’
There was nothing they could think of and so the attendants withdrew.
They had luxuriated in the hot baths, with spices and scents. Fidelma had half expected Ciarnat to appear as her attendant but another young girl helped her. It was when she had been at the fortress last and bathed in exactly the same bath-house that Fidelma had met Ciarnat for the first time. When she enquired after her, the attendant – a young, fair-haired girl – had explained her absence.
‘Ciarnat is not in this household today, lady. She has an elderly mother in the township and some days she goes to take care of her.’
Having bathed and rested, they found the summer sun was lowering and beginning to cast shadows across the courtyard and buildings; lanterns were being prepared for the coming darkness. Finally, a distant bell resounded four times and there came a discreet knock on their chamber door. It was the male attendant come to escort them to the great hall.
To their surprise, having arrived at the fortress with hardly a sign of anyone to greet them, the hall was athrong with many people. Fidelma noted that there were very few females present – apart from the attendants. The only immediately familiar face belonged to Conri, who came forward to greet them at once and explained that he would act, for that evening at least, as the prince’s rechtaire or steward. He then led Fidelma and Eadulf to the dais on which the prince’s chair of office was located.
Prince Donennach rose from his seat and took a step down to the same level to greet Fidelma in recognition of her rank. He was a tall, broad-shouldered young man in his mid-twenties, standing with legs spread slightly apart in the manner of a warrior. His grip was firm, an indication of the power of the muscles behind it. His features were not exactly handsome, but pleasant, and his light grey eyes seemed to regard everyone with amusement. The prince’s hair was fair with a dusting of red in it as, indeed, was the long moustache that dangled either side of his mouth – the only facial hair on an otherwise cleanshaven face.
‘You are welcome, lady. Or should I call you Sister Fidelma?’ He greeted her with a genuine smile of recognition.
Fidelma returned his greeting with a bow of her head. ‘I have left the religious, Prince Donennach, and now serve only as adviser in law to my brother.’
‘And yet I find it strange not to use that prefix “Sister”. It is the title by which your reputation precedes you throughout the Five Kingdoms.’
‘Nevertheless, it is a designation I no longer have and so, in proof of the one I do have, I present this.’ She produced the hazel wand of office which she carried, bearing the silver mounting of the stag rampant. This was the symbol of her authority as representative of her brother, the King.
‘Your credentials are without question, Fidelma of Cashel,’ Prince Donennach said. ‘Your reputation precedes you under whatever title you use – as, of course, does that of Eadulf your husband. Welcome, friend Eadulf. It has been some years since I was a young visitor to Cashel when we tried to negotiate a peace. I was glad of your healing knowledge then, my friend.’
It was true that Eadulf had taken the arrow from Donennach’s leg during an incident when Fidelma and he were investigating the mystery of a vanished member of the Abbey of Imleach. Eadulf had almost forgotten the event. He inclined his head gravely in acknowledgement. ‘That’s right. You were wounded by an arrow from a would-be assassin.’
‘And was nursed back to life by you,’ Prince Donennach said warmly. ‘Your powers helped me to recover.’ He paused and then continued: ‘Indeed, you are both welcome here, although in the circumstances I had hoped your brother and his Chief Brehon would be represented.’
‘I am here in their place. My brother, the King, whose regrets I bring to you, is detained with pressing matters …’ She noticed Donennach’s mouth lift slightly in a cynical gesture. ‘Aillin, our Chief Brehon, is also on an embassy to the High King in Tara. As this seems a matter of urgency, and one of very serious consequence, I am here to represent both their offices.’
‘One of those offices on your shoulders would be an enormous responsibility,’ said a new voice, ‘but to have to represent both …’
Fidelma turned towards the man who had made the observation.
‘This is my Brehon, Brehon Faolchair,’ the prince said.