Fidelma thanked the man, who continued on his way across the courtyard to the main gate. Conri, who had remained, asked: ‘Is there anything else I can help you with, lady?’
‘I am very interested in this side gate. Would you show it to me?’
The warlord smiled ruefully. ‘I suspected it would play a prominent part in your thoughts, lady. I am still wondering how Gorman could have been so foolish as to destroy any hope he had of defending himself.’
They followed Conri in silence across the courtyard to the stone block that housed the cells. It was a squat building squeezed between the stables and the Laochtech or warriors’ barracks. Just by the side of it was a pair of large solid oak doors. While they were not as tall and wide as the main gates they were certainly tall and wide enough for a mounted rider, ducking over the neck of his horse, to pass through. They were now shut and secured by bolts. Fidelma also noticed that a large lock served as extra security. She glanced around.
‘The big iron key,’ she pointed to the key hanging on a hook on a wooden pillar by the right side of the gate, ‘I presume that fits this lock? Does it always hang there?’
‘It does,’ Conri confirmed.
‘If the bolts were undone, it would require no great feat of strength to take the key and unlock the gates?’
‘No strength at all,’ confirmed Conri. ‘But, as you say, the iron bolts that also secure the doors would have to be released first.’ One was at the level of Fidelma’s waist and the other was just above the top of her head.
‘Yet we are told that Gorman’s wife had two horses, saddled and ready beyond the gates – which had been opened by her,’ Fidelma observed. ‘It needed a taller person to remove the top bolt. Even with bribing the guard, it would be difficult to accomplish everything that was needed. And I doubt the guard would risk deserting his post to perform those tasks.’
‘Perhaps the horses were on this side of the doors and it was Gorman who undid the tougher bolt. Anyway, we can ask the guard who was well paid for his part in this matter,’ suggested Conri. ‘He now inhabits the cell in which Gorman had been placed – so perhaps we should interrogate him now?’
There came the sound of a bell from the main building and Fidelma said, ‘It is time to prepare for the evening meal. Let the guard languish in his cell overnight and we will speak to him in the morning when he has had more time to contemplate his future.’
The evening meal was not attended by either Abbot Nannid or Prior Cuan; nor was Prince Donennach present. Brehon Faolchair presided over the meal while Brother Tuaman was the only representative of the Imleach delegation there. When Fidelma enquired about these absences Brehon Faolchair explained that each absentee apparently had other matters to attend to. The meal passed mostly in silence albeit interspersed with brief exchanges about the weather, crops and the condition of the local game. The subject of Abbot Segdae was studiously avoided.
The meal having been consumed, Fidelma and Eadulf, with Conri and Enda, went to watch the final moments of the sun setting behind the western hills. At the main gates, flickering brand torches had been lit in preparation for nightfall, which was almost on them. As they looked, there was sudden movement – horsemen were arriving. Then a dismounted warrior separated himself from the shadows and came hurrying across the courtyard in their direction.
‘It is Socht!’ Conri exclaimed.
Socht raised a hand and let it fall in formal salutation. There was light enough to see the disappointed expression on his face which revealed that his mission had been unsuccessful.
One part of Fidelma felt a surge of relief that Gorman had not been caught; the other filled with dismay that they had only nine nights in which to resolve the situation. It was not a good prospect though it was better than the immediate action threatened by Abbot Nannid.
‘I do not have to remind you that Gorman is good at his profession,’ Socht said with grudging admiration. ‘He is an able warrior who knows how to disguise his trail.’
‘There is no need to find a reason for failure,’ Conri told him glumly. ‘I did not think it would be an easy task.’
‘Easy or not, I was able to follow the tracks southwards across the river in spite of the stony ground.’
Conri looked slightly mollified. ‘So he took the trail I thought that he might?’
‘There were a few signs on the far bank where he and the girl had no time to linger and cover all their tracks.’
‘So they crossed the river?’ Fidelma asked.
‘They seem to have crossed it twice, lady. The river almost bends back on itself. So they crossed it again where it straightens and then followed its eastern bank. I went as far as the place where there is a smaller tributary called the “twisted river”, An Luba, which joins the Maigh. I was trying to see where they turned due east. Yet there was no sign that they headed into Gorman’s own territory, east towards Cashel. I would have expected some sign in the muddy grounds there.’
‘But there was none?’ asked Eadulf. As Socht was an expert tracker, the question did not even warrant a reply.
‘He could have started to walk his horse west along the river bed,’ Conri suggested.
‘Along the Luba?’ Socht shook his head. ‘You would eventually have to pass under Cnoc Samhna and he would be seen.’
‘Why is that?’ Eadulf asked.
‘The Hill of Samhain is also known as the Height of the Kings because it is where the rulers of the Ui Fidgente are inaugurated. To protect the sacred site there are always sentinels there; it is also the site of one of our signal fires which are lit to warn the fortress of strangers,’ explained Conri. ‘The sentinels there keep a sharp watch.’
‘Also, it would be a dangerous thing to do,’ Socht confirmed. ‘Walking horses along the river bed at any length would slow him and his woman down. The muddy bottom of the river could bog the animals down, especially where one horse has to follow another. The first horse might be lucky but the second would be sinking in mud already stirred up and loose.’
‘So where could they be heading?’ Conri mused.
‘There was one thing that caused me some puzzlement,’ Socht said. ‘They had tried to ford the Maigh again but this time from east to west. This was just before we reached the Luba tributary. The river shallows there and the ford seems an easy route across. However, once on the west bank you can’t get far into the dense forest and undergrowth at that point. There were some signs that they probably turned back and re-crossed to the east bank again, although the signs were unclear. It was then I lost the tracks altogether. With little daylight left, I decided to come back and perhaps search again at first light.’
‘Why would he turn west?’ enquired Conri.
‘I did wonder if this crossing was an attempt to confuse anyone following his trail. He would know east from west and realise that his best chance of finding safety was east among his own people. He would keep on the east bank and make his way further south before turning for home. Why, then, make a foray due west?’
‘You may be right. He might have tried to throw us off his track,’ the warlord said thoughtfully. He glanced across at Fidelma, who was quiet, as if her mind was elsewhere. ‘What do you think, lady? You know the man better than we do.’
Fidelma raised her eyes and stared at him unseeingly for several moments. Then she shrugged. ‘Gorman’s home is east in Cashel, not in the west,’ she said slowly.
‘I will start searching again at first light,’ Socht decided.
‘Leave that task to one of the other trackers,’ Contri told him. ‘I need you here tomorrow because Prince Donennach wants to discuss the disposition of our warriors.’ He glanced awkwardly at Fidelma. ‘Gorman must be back here within nine nights if we are to prevent Abbot Nannid from forcing the prince to declare his guilt and punishment.’