‘It is unlike Gorman,’ Eadulf replied.
‘But maybe not unlike Aibell.’ Enda showed his bias. ‘She has a mind of her own. And I haven’t seen Ciarnat since I left her to go to the barracks.’
As they started to cross the courtyard, they saw Conri hurrying towards them from the direction of the main gates. By his side was a dishevelled-looking guard.
‘Have they been recaptured?’ Fidelma demanded before the warlord could speak.
Conri shook his head. ‘It was a well conceived plan,’ he replied bitterly. ‘It seems that Gorman’s wife had two horses ready at a side gate, just behind the prison house. That gate is usually locked. There is no sign of them but they can’t have gone far. I have sent Socht and some men after them. Socht is a good tracker. They can’t be allowed to escape.’ He then added as if in apology, ‘Even though I sympathise with Gorman’s plight.’
‘So they escaped through a side gate on horseback?’
‘The cells for prisoners are entered by a separate entrance from the main barracks, lady,’ explained Conri. ‘As I said, the gate there is usually locked and bolted. We don’t often use it, since its main purpose is as a strategic exit for our warriors should the fortress be under attack at the main gates. A party of warriors can leave at the side to encircle the raiders at the main gates.’
‘Are you claiming that Aibell had planned this and had two horses waiting outside with this gate already unlocked and unbolted?’ Eadulf could scarcely believe this.
‘Yes. They even used the horses they arrived here on,’ the warlord informed them. ‘My guess is that if Gorman is the warrior I think he is, then he will head south across the stony ground to hide their tracks, and then cross the river and follow it further south, hoping to disguise the tracks by riding in the shallows. He will think that we will expect him to immediately turn due east. We should be able to recapture them shortly,’ he concluded with satisfaction.
‘It sounds incredible,’ Fidelma said.
‘I doubt Aibell could have accomplished this alone,’ agreed the warlord, and Fidelma noticed that his eyes flickered towards the guard at his side as he spoke. The man in question was an ugly-looking fellow, with overhanging brows, and hardly any neck to speak of. He was small and thickset, with a look of cunning about him.
‘Are you the guard who was knocked out by a young woman?’ she asked.
The man reddened as he defiantly grunted an affirmative.
‘Explain what happened?’ she demanded.
‘The woman came with a meal for the prisoner,’ the man replied sullenly. ‘I bent to unlock the door to let her in and she hit me. I knew nothing more until I recovered my senses, by which time they had fled.’
‘She arrived carrying food. You turned your back, bent to the door … and she knocked you out?’
‘Exactly as I said. I had no suspicion, see, for the girl was always visiting the prisoner and bringing him meals. I had often opened the cell before in such a fashion.’
‘It is difficult to believe a young woman would be able to give you a sufficiently powerful blow as to cause a burly man like you to be rendered unconscious.’ Eadulf was suspicious.
The man looked sheepish. ‘Nevertheless, brother, that is what happened. She must have hit me with something heavy. A cudgel – that’s it! She must have used a cudgel.’
‘So what happened to the tray of food that she was carrying while she was producing the cudgel from somewhere and preparing to knock you out with it?’ Fidelma asked.
The guard hesitated, his face reddening even deeper. Then he dropped his gaze.
‘What did the girl say to the prisoner after she paid you to let her into the cell?’ Fidelma demanded brusquely.
‘She said …’ the man began, stopped and looked helpless.
‘It was obvious you were bribed,’ Fidelma continued. ‘She needed help to arrange such an escape; to have the gate unlocked and horses ready. You were bribed, that is plain. Now I want to know what she said.’
The guard seemed to realise it was futile to make any further pretence. He muttered, ‘I heard her say something about betrayal.’
Fidelma’s eyes narrowed. ‘Betrayal? Can you recall her precise words?’
The man frowned. ‘I think it was “we are betrayed”. Perhaps it was “we have been betrayed”. Something like that. The rest was spoken in a whisper. I agreed to give them a good head start …’
‘For a price?’ Conri was angry.
‘Most things are done for a price,’ the man replied sulkily.
‘You will have time to meditate on that at leisure in the cells that you once guarded. We will hear what your commander has to say about your willingness to take bribes and betray our trust.’
As Conri marched the man off at sword point, Fidelma glanced at Eadulf and Enda. ‘“We are betrayed!”’ she quoted. ‘What do you think Aibell meant by that?’
‘Earlier this morning, she was content to leave the inquiry in your hands,’ the warrior replied. ‘Then in a short space of time, she had planned and executed a successful escape for Gorman. Why?’
‘And why at this precise time?’ Eadulf wanted to know. ‘If such a plan was feasible, why had she not put it into action before? Nine whole days have passed since her man was incarcerated and more or less declared guilty, apart from the legal niceties. Why wait until after you had arrived and started an investigation? It just doesn’t make any sense.’
‘Things only make sense when we are in possession of all the facts.’ Fidelma sounded resigned. It was clear that she could not find any logic for this new turn of events.
Brehon Faolchair had called a meeting in the great hall. Prince Donennach, looking more exhausted than before, sat in his seat of office and allowed Brehon Faolchair to conduct the proceedings. Prior Cuan and his steward, the tall and arrogant Brother Tuaman, attended but sat quietly. Abbot Nannid and his steward, Brother Cuineain, had plenty to say on the other hand, muttering about conspiracy and Gorman’s guilt. Conri and Enda stood in the background. There was a tense atmosphere as Brehon Faolchair began.
‘We have heard what happened,’ he said. ‘On my part, we admit our responsibility in that one of the guards was bribed. We are not without fault in this matter.’
‘We also know why it has happened,’ interposed Abbot Nannid. ‘The man escaped to avoid punishment and has given us a clear declaration of his guilt. Further, we know now that his woman is as guilty as he is.’
‘The escape is not so easily explained as there was no logical reason why Gorman should decide to escape now,’ remarked Fidelma. ‘It is strange.’
‘Strange because you do not want to believe his guilt.’ Abbot Nannid’s voise was full of derision. ‘I am sure that you have had time to work out some honey-tongued reason for the man’s action. Come, Fidelma of Cashel. I am waiting for some excuse.’
‘I am as perplexed as you are,’ Fidelma returned heatedly. ‘Perhaps even more so. The case against Gorman has yet to be heard in its legal entirety.’
As Abbot Nannid let out a bark of laughter, Prince Donennach stirred and said, ‘Surely, Fidelma, the matter now speaks for itself? I am afraid that I now agree with the abbot that Gorman has declared himself guilty.’
‘Yet a court must still legally try him and find him so. That is the law,’ Fidelma insisted stubbornly.
‘You may have beguiled those who wish to be beguiled last night by trying to gain time by making legal points. But now the matter is at an end.’ Abbot Nannid raised his chin aggressively.
‘Gorman will be returned for trial. Let us wait for that trial until we declare him guilty,’ Fidelma said firmly. ‘I promise you, he will return for trial.’
Brehon Faolchair smiled with sad cynicism. Even Eadulf stared at her in some amazement.