Fidelma thought for a moment and then said, ‘Brehon Faolchair found Gorman guilty of the killing?’
‘Both the steward and the guard had taken oath that there was no way anyone else could have entered or left the room. Brehon Faolchair pronounced, on the evidence that he had heard, there was no other explanation than that Gorman was guilty of the crime.’
‘What was suggested as to a motive?’ asked Eadulf, winning a quick glance of approval from Fidelma.
Ciarnat shook her head. ‘No one could supply a reason why Gorman should attack and kill the abbot. According to Brother Tuaman, the abbot’s steward, Gorman had arrived in a bad mood – but that is no motive for murder.’
Fidelma pursed her lips thoughtfully. ‘That certainly is the weak point in this matter. It just doesn’t make sense.’
‘They will not dare to execute him, will they, lady?’ The girl began to sob, overcome by emotion again.
Fidelma compressed her lips into a thin line. She was determined to prevent this; it was all she had been thinking about since she had heard of the situation from this young woman.
‘Do you know how the threat of execution arose?’ she asked.
The girl tried to explain between sniffs. ‘Abbot Nannid, who is the senior abbot and bishop of the Ui Fidgente, as you know, is the main advocate of these new rules of the Faith. Now many of our bishops and abbots have adopted them.’
‘Abbot Nannid of Mungairit!’ Eadulf exclaimed the name bitterly. ‘He must have changed his views since last we parted from him. I did not think he was so strong an advocate for these new so-called Penitential rules.’
The girl looked puzzled but Fidelma felt that now was not the time to explain.
‘Do you know why Abbot Nannid is arguing for punishment under the Penitentials and not under the law of the Brehons?’ she asked.
‘I heard him say that it is because Segdae was an abbot and bishop of the Faith. Abbot Nannid claims that the murderer must suffer punishment as prescribed by the Faith.’
‘You say these events happened about nine days ago, so why was there such a delay between the killing of Abbot Segdae and Prince Donennach informing us at Cashel?’
The girl did not understand, so Eadulf rephrased the question. ‘Many days have passed between the murder and Cashel being informed of the death of the abbot,’ he said.
Ciarnat gave an expressive gesture with one shoulder, letting it rise and fall. ‘I assume that Prince Donennach waited until the hearing was conducted by Brehon Faolchair and the confirmation of his decision that Gorman was responsible. That was four days ago. Then a messenger was immediately sent to Imleach and then to Cashel. As I said, Aibell knew of your reputation and we were hoping Cashel would send you to save Gorman.’
‘The verdict has already been pronounced,’ Fidelma said sombrely.
‘But not the sentence,’ replied Ciarnat, wiping her eyes. ‘Aibell and Gorman believe that you can prevent this as it is our laws which must judge him, not these new foreign ideas.’
‘And you have been waiting on this road hoping to intercept us?’ Eadulf was curious. ‘That was taking a chance.’
The girl shrugged again. ‘Aibell and I reasoned that if you rode from Cashel soon after the prince’s messenger reached there, it would likely be some time this morning that you would be coming along this road. There is no other direct route from Cashel. Therefore, this morning, one of the fortress guards showed me the signal fire and what it meant, and I rode out to wait for you.’
‘What was the meaning of the signal fire?’ queried Eadulf.
In response, the girl pointed to a distant hill behind them. Wisps of smoke still hung over it. Before she could speak, Enda gave a groan of self-recrimination.
‘Of course! The signal fire was lit to announce our entry into the Ui Fidgente territory. I should have realised that.’
Eadulf glanced to where the smoke was still drifting on the high wind. ‘It is slightly unnerving to know that we are being watched from afar.’
‘The teine caismberta, or signal fires, are as old as the time people first sought to defend themselves,’ Enda told them, standing up and collecting the remains of the meal and the utensils. ‘Since the fortress knows of our approach, perhaps we should move on now?’
The hint was not lost on Fidelma. ‘I am surprised that no warriors have already come to escort us to the prince’s fortress,’ she said.
‘You are right – and I have tarried long enough,’ the girl muttered, getting hurriedly to her feet and moving towards her horse. ‘Do not say I have met with you, lady. There is much evil at Dun Eochair Mhaigh. I will make my way back by another route. All Aibell wanted, without being overheard, was to warn you of this evil. Look for untruth in the answers to your questions, believe only what you see … or perhaps it is better to believe only half of what you see.’
Then she had mounted and moving off at a rapid trot through the trees at right angles to the track.
Eadulf gave a cynical laugh. ‘Curious, eh? A warning of what we shall encounter.’
Enda had become suddenly still, looking down the sloping track into the valley, towards the hills beyond which was their destination.
‘What we are about to encounter is half-a-dozen warriors,’ he said without raising his voice.
They looked at him in astonishment for a moment before turning to follow the direction of his gaze.
Coming along the track from the direction of Dun Eochair Mhaigh was a group of six horsemen, riding two abreast, their shields and armaments not only proclaiming them as warriors but bearing the wolf insignia of the Ui Fidgente. One of the two leading riders carried aloft a banner of red silk with the image of a ravening wolf on it.
Enda started to move towards his horse, his hand slipping to his sword hilt and easing it to ensure it was loose.
‘Remember, these are not hostile warriors, Enda,’ Fidelma said hurriedly. ‘From that insignia they wear, they are warriors of Prince Donennach’s household. We are in their territory by invitation of their prince. So let us show no signs of hostility or reveal our anxiety.’
Enda stopped still. ‘As you please, lady,’ he said almost sulkily.
‘I would continue to pack away the remains of our midday meal and behave as naturally as you would when strangers meet on the highway,’ Fidelma added.
The column of warriors approached the group easily without any sign of aggressive intent and came to a halt before them.
‘Well, well,’ greeted their leader with a loud bellow of laughter as he sprang from his horse. ‘You are once more welcome in my country, lady, and you too, friend Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham. I confess though, in all our encounters, I just wish the circumstances were more pleasant but Fate, it seems, always designs our meetings at times of crisis between our peoples.’
The speaker removed his burnished silver war helmet and gazed at them with a broad smile on his face.
Fidelma returned the smile of their old acquaintance. ‘I should have known that Conri, the King of Wolves, warlord of the Ui Fidgente, would be among the first to come and escort us to the fortress of Prince Donennach,’ she greeted him courteously.
CHAPTER THREE
The warrior carrying the red silk banner turned out to be Socht, the warlord Conri’s comrade in arms. After the greetings and introductions, for Enda had encountered neither Conri nor Socht before, it was decided not to waste any more time but to set off immediately for Prince Donennach’s fortress. Fidelma rode alongside Conri at the head of the column, with Eadulf and Socht behind them. After them came Enda and one of Conri’s men, with the rest of the horsemen following two abreast.
Fidelma immediately began to question the warlord as Conri obviously expected her to do.