‘My brother is no hothead, Conri,’ Fidelma replied. ‘He would be open to reasonable negotiation – but he would want restitution under the law, and I mean the laws of the Five Kingdoms. I think we both know well that someone is trying to provoke a war here, and it is not the Eoghanacht. However, I have understood what you have said.’
‘Very well, lady. I shall say no more about the news from Mungairit until you tell me that I may do so.’
‘For that, I am grateful. But I fear things will not end until we have resolved this matter under law and discovered the causes behind it.’
Conri raised a hand to his forehead in farewell as she continued on her way to the great hall. There, she rejoined Aibell.
The only other people in the hall were Prior Cuan and Brother Mac Raith; while in one corner sat Airmed, the physician, with Brother Tuaman, the steward of Imleach. Between them was a fidchell board, the popular game of wooden wisdom, which needed a sharp eye and plenty of concentration. They were sipping at drinks as they played. Fidelma crossed to examine the arrangement of pieces on their board; she was particularly adept at the game.
‘Have a care, Brother Tuaman,’ she warned, seeing the alignment of the pieces. ‘You will be in danger soon from Airmid’s defence.’
They looked up and acknowledged Fidelma. Then, with a frown, Brother Tuaman peered closely at his opponent’s pieces and spotted the danger that Fidelma had observed. ‘Airmid was always good at defensive play even when she a student,’ he beamed.
Airmid stood up abruptly. ‘Enough of the game,’ she said, glancing to the door. ‘Where is Brother Eadulf?’
‘He has retired early to our chamber. Something he ate earlier disagreed with him,’ responded Fidelma.
‘Do you want me to attend him?’ Airmid asked at once.
‘I think Eadulf has enough healing knowledge to deal with his condition,’ Fidelma said to deflect Airmid’s concern. ‘He always says that water is a great purge but sleep is a greater healer.’
‘The girl also seems unwell,’ Airmid said, casting a glance to where Aibell fidgeted restlessly at one side of the hall. Fidelma was concerned. It was a matter of Gorman’s life or death. If his young wife remained in the hall, she would certainly draw more attention to herself.
‘No doubt she is feeling the strain of her husband’s fate,’ Fidelma said carefully. Then, going over to Aibell, she said in a carrying voice, ‘You look tired, Aibell. We don’t want you going down with an illness like Eadulf. I suggest you withdraw to our chamber and try to rest. You can do no good here.’
The girl muttered something inaudible and stumbled off towards the stairway to the guests’ rooms.
Fidelma was aware of Airmid standing at her side. ‘She is young,’ Fidelma said, ‘and these despondent days will gradually fade. It is often said that the passing of time is a great help.’
‘Such advice is difficult to accept when your husband is about to be executed.’ The dry comment was made by Brother Mac Raith, who had moved to warm himself by the fire.
‘I agree,’ Airmid said. ‘It is sad that such things have come to pass.’
‘Your brother could intervene,’ observed Prior Cuan a little sourly, entering the conversation. He had been sitting before the fire, absorbed in watching the dancing flames.
‘I will not argue with you on that,’ agreed Prince Donennach’s sister. ‘If it is worth anything, I did advise him to take a stronger stand on the matter. He seems fearful of another effusion of blood, given that too much of ours has been shed over the years of the conflict with the Eoghanacht.’
Fidelma flushed slightly. ‘Such conflict has never been of the Eoghanacht making,’ she replied defensively.
Airmid put out a hand to lay it on Fidelma’s arm for a moment.
‘My dear, I meant no rebuke to you. But it is the truth that I am telling. The wars that we have been engaged in have achieved nothing but more bloodshed. Many, like my brother, want to avoid war among our own people at any cost. Others believe that my brother’s policy of conciliation with Cashel is wrong.’
‘You appear to place yourself as a neutral in this matter, lady,’ observed Fidelma. ‘Yet you are the heir apparent to your brother. You must have a say on his council.’
Airmid threw back her head and laughed. ‘My brother tolerates my presence since there is no other heir to his bloodline. The council always look to a man to lead them.’
A look of annoyance crossed Fidelma’s face. ‘The law is clear on that: women can fulfil any role.’
‘But not usually fulfil the role of kingship.’
‘On the contrary, as you wander the kingdoms and princedoms of this island you will find several women leaders among them, and not only leaders of their people but commanders of war. Did not Macha of the Red Tresses rule all the Five Kingdoms from Tara in ancient times?’
Airmid smiled thinly. ‘I do not possess your passion or your knowledge, lady,’ she replied. ‘I simply know that I, like my brother, would prefer peace.’
‘Is your brother not joining us this evening?’ queried Fidelma.
Airmid shook her head. ‘There is much on his mind this evening,’ she replied.
‘Much on everyone’s mind,’ Prior Cuan said bluntly. ‘There’ll be no peace if we abandon the laws that have been with us since the time before time, and just accept these alien concepts coming from Nannid.’
‘For my own part,’ Airmid sighed, ‘I want nothing more than to be allowed to carry on as a practitioner of the arts of healing. But I suppose Nannid could argue that there is a difference between abandoning our old laws and abandoning our old religion?’
Prior Cuan frowned. ‘I am unsure what you mean, lady.’
‘Simple enough. We were once firm in the Old Faith. We worshipped the gods and goddesses as, indeed, our people had done since the time when Feinius Farsaid led us out of the primeval mists. We remained constant to our gods and goddesses, who shaped our lives for century after century. Then some of our people heard stories of a new God, a single God worshipped among a people in the east. This God, they were told, had sent His Son to bring them to the Faith. Some of our people believed in the New Faith – Ailbe, Ciaran, Declan and others and then, eventually, the leader of this Faith in Rome sent a former hostage of the Ui Neill to convert us.
‘It was two centuries ago that the High King, Laoghaire, son of Neill of the Nine Hostages, decided to leave the Old Faith, abandon the gods and goddesses that we had worshipped for millennia, and accept this strange New Faith from the east. So, having abandoned our own Faith, a New Faith has shaped and sustained us. We abandoned our old Faith, so what would be wrong with abandoning our old laws? What is the difference?’
There was a silence after Airmid had spoken.
‘Put in that form, lady,’ Fidelma said eventually, ‘it is an interesting comparison in support of what Nannid argues now. Are you in favour of his Penitentials?’
Airmid gave a quiet laugh. ‘If it were left to me, I would be content with both the old religion and the old law. What has worked for centuries seems hardly worthwhile amending, much less spilling blood over. But I thank the powers that it is not my responsibility. All I do is point out that times change and often we have to change with them. But left to myself, I am certainly no reformer.’
Brother Tuaman looked up from where he still sat at the fidchell board.
‘I am sure that Abbot Nannid would agree that the road to what is right and proper is a righteous one to tread, and it is worth sacrifices to attain an end to it. It is right and proper that we have cast away our superstition for the light of knowledge of the True Faith. We have attained much but we must seek more and come nearer to the Great Truth. That is why I entered into the life of the religious.’ He paused and glanced round, realising they were staring at what, for him, was an outburst. Then he gave a shrug. ‘Indeed, that is why I entered the great Abbey of Imleach and was proud to serve Abbot Segdae as I will now be proud to serve his successor.’ He dropped his gaze back to the fidchell board.