‘How long will that be?’ Abbot Nannid sniggered. ‘We do not have eternity to wait for that promise to be fulfilled.’
‘I do not expect to wait an eternity.’ She turned to Conri. ‘Is there word from Socht yet?’
‘There is none yet,’ Conri said.
Abbot Nannid’s tone was disparaging. ‘If you ask me, Gorman and the women had help … and I don’t mean just one guard’s greed. I mean the help of Gorman’s friends. He won’t be found easily when he has all the territories of the Eoghanacht to hide in.’
Fidelma bridled at the accusation. ‘I hear Nannid is of the line of Coirpre, son of Brion, who claimed to be seventh-generation descent from Eoghan Mor. So Nannid claims to be an Eoghanacht. If that is so, perhaps Nannid is hiding him?’
Prior Cuan was worried at the studied insult and tried to draw them back to the main point of the discussion.
‘I am sure that the correct path is to persuade or attempt to bring Gorman back here for a hearing so that all the arguments can be properly presented before the prince and his Brehon. We must put our trust in Conri’s men to overtake him in this flight.’
‘What if they do not overtake him?’ Abbot Nannid jeered. ‘I recall that Gorman has friends among certain warriors of the Ui Fidgente.’ The barb was clearly thrown towards Conri, who made an obvious effort of will not to take the bait. The abbot went on: ‘What if he goes to ground like some fox? Do you expect us to calmly wait for ever and a day before we demand that Cashel make recompense for the action of the commander of the King’s bodyguard?’
Fidelma turned her gaze to Prince Donennach. ‘I ask for an adequate period of time to find Gorman and then persuade him to return here to answer the charges.’
‘Even if you found him, do you think you could persuade him?’ Prince Donennach asked in surprise.
‘I offer no guarantee, but the consequences of the matter are such that we must go as far as we can to resolve it.’
‘I object to such sycophantic behaviour to the Eoghanacht of Cashel!’ Abbot Nannid thundered. ‘These are just honeyed words again without substance. Of course she has no intention of persuading the man and his woman to return here!’
Prince Donennach ignored him even though Conri had uttered a loud hissing sound at the suggestion that Prince Donennach was a sycophant. The prince held up a hand, as if to wave Conri back, and glanced anxiously at Brehon Faolchair. ‘Is there some precedent to our giving a ruling to this matter?’ he asked.
Eadulf realised that most judgements were usually justified by reference to precedent or fasach.
Brehon Faolchair was hesitant. ‘I have not heard of one. Nonetheless, perhaps it is time one was set, in view of the uniqueness of the situation. However, if it is done we must have some time limitation. Abbot Nannid has made his strong views known. What do you say, Prior Cuan? Would you agree that the dalaigh from Cashel be allowed a period of time to find and persuade Gorman to return for trial?’
Prior Cuan compressed his lips. ‘I am no judge but a simple man of religion. I could not say what is right and proper in this case. Let those learned with the law make the decision.’
Fidelma glanced at Eadulf and grimaced. It seemed she didn’t think much of the prior’s attempt at diplomacy.
Brehon Faolchair held a whispered exchange with Prince Donennach then he turned back to Fidelma.
‘We have decided to allow Socht the ancient time period of nine nights and intervening days. If Gorman is not brought back here by then, he will be judged in his absence.’
It was not the first time that Eadulf had heard reference to the mystical figure nine. In ancient times Fidelma had told him that her people judged the passing of the week as by nights, followed by days. The old week was therefore nine nights, and three of these weeks constituted the lunar month. The figure of nine seemed to occur in many stories of Fidelma’s people as Eadulf had understood them. The High King Laoghaire had set up a nine-man commission to consider and render the ancient laws into the new Christian writing.
‘I accept the terms,’ Fidelma agreed, glancing at Conri. ‘Then all we can do is wait word from Socht.’
At that very moment, the hall doors burst open and two warriors came in dragging a struggling girl between them.
Fidelma turned, wondering if it was Aibell and whether she and Gorman had already been caught. But the struggling figure was the unkempt form of Ciarnat.
‘We caught her outside the fort, lord,’ one of the warriors addressed Prince Donennach.
Cairnat tried to shake her arms free but gave up and attempted to address the prince instead. ‘I was returning to the fort when these idiots caught hold of me and dragged me here,’ she panted. ‘I do not understand the meaning of this. What am I supposed to have done?’
‘Are you saying that you do not know that your friend Aibell and her husband have escaped from this fort?’ Brehon Faolchair demanded sternly.
Fidelma saw the girl’s features tighten. It was difficult to ascertain whether she was surprised by the news or not.
‘I was visiting my mother in the township. I know nothing,’ she said sullenly.
Abbot Nannid smothered a guffaw. ‘Another chance to beguile us with some new expression of innocence?’
Fidelma moved to the side of the girl with a sympathetic look. ‘You say that you have only just returned to the fortress. When did you leave it?’
‘I left just after we delivered your message to Aibell and Gorman, lady,’ the girl responded. ‘We told Gorman to be patient, for you were reinvestigating the matter.’
‘You left at that time? Why?’ Brehon Faolchair wanted to know.
‘To see my elderly mother, as I said.’
Abbot Nannid snorted. ‘An elderly mother? I don’t believe that for one moment.’
The girl turned with an angry scowl towards him. ‘Anyone in this fortress will tell you that my mother, Etromma, served here as a cook for many years and therefore I followed in that service. She is elderly now and alone apart from myself. She lost two sons, my brothers, in the service of the Princes of the Ui Fidgente.’
‘And I suppose you claim that you have no knowledge that your friend, the girl Aibell, was plotting the escape of the murderer, Gorman?’ Abbot Nannid was unbending with his questions.
The girl’s reply was equally pugnacious. ‘My mother is elderly. She still dwells in the township in the shadow of this fortress. I left here earlier having no duties to fulfil here today, in order to visit her and break bread with her. I did not expect to be assaulted by warriors on my return to the fortress gates, nor to be dragged here as if I am some criminal without the law.’
Fidelma was watching the girl’s features closely. She was keeping something back, Fidelma could tell. ‘We do have to ask you some questions,’ she said gently. ‘This is because we cannot understand why Aibell should have arranged an escape for Gorman at this time, especially after the assurance I gave you this morning. I am told Gorman was content to let me handle matters. How was his mind changed so quickly?’
The girl shook her head. ‘I cannot help you.’
‘Well, I suppose your mother can support your story that you went straight there and remained there until now.’ It was Abbot Nannid again. tone.
The girl immediately protested: ‘My mother is elderly and frail. She should not be intimidated!’
‘Very convenient,’ remarked the abbot.
‘You see,’ Fidelma went on, ignoring him, ‘there are difficulties for us, Ciarnat. Brehon Faolchair must be assured that you did nothing to aid the escape of Gorman and your friend, Aibell.’
‘I have no understanding of what has happened.’ Ciarnat was obdurate and yet there was still something that made Fidelma suspicious. ‘I left the fortress at midday and have only just returned.’
‘I will explain, Ciarnat,’ Brehon Faolchair said easily, ‘so that you may understand how we are thinking. Firstly, this escape seemed so well planned. Horses had to be made ready, they had to be led to the side gate of this fortress which, moreover, had to be unbolted and unlocked, ready and open for the escapers to flee through. If Aibell had accomplished all that by herself, it would have taken some time in the preparation, yet it seems she was able to do this in a very short time. The actual escape was easy enough. The guard admitted he was bribed. For the moment, the bribe continues to buy his silence – but a night in his own cell may release the stiffness of his tongue.’