Colgu told his sister, ‘The genealogists certainly cannot find him related to our family and it is troubling that Segdae did not come here to discuss the matter of his appointment. Everything seems to have happened at the wrong time. We should have known something of Cuan’s background and qualifications before Segdae took him to meet with the Ui Fidgente clerics. I know nothing about this man. What if he now expects to be declared as the new Abbot?’
‘Segdae’s community would not approve him as airsecnap, or prior, unless he held the right qualifications,’ Fidelma said. ‘Indeed, why would Segdae appoint him as his deputy unless he is a man of some talent?’
Her brother shrugged. ‘Cuan is a common name in these parts. I have no idea of where he comes from.’
‘Well, I shall soon meet him at Prince Donennach’s fortress and I trust I will have the opportunity to find out more about him then. I just hope that Prior Cuan is not one of those who are supporting the Ui Fidgente clerics’ wild idea of executing the culprit.’
‘Yes. I can’t believe Segdae would appoint someone who believes in these strange rules that some of the religious are adopting,’ agreed her brother.
She looked seriously at him. ‘I have heard that many communities are becoming more extreme on such matters. They say that the New Faith approves of maiming and execution for wrongdoers. These punishments are occurring more frequently after the intervention of abbots and bishops who follow the new ideas from the east.’
‘That’s hardly the principle of our laws. You know more than most that the influence of these insidious Penitentials is growing stronger each year,’ Colgu said moodily. ‘You have seen for yourself the disturbance they are creating, not just in this kingdom but throughout all the Five Kingdoms.’
‘Well, brother, unless the Ui Fidgente purposely intend to destroy the peace that we have made, the law of the Brehons must be made paramount.’
‘Here we are, bereft of a good friend and counsellor, and find his death could plunge the kingdom into unrest and conflict,’ Colgu sighed. ‘Now do you see why it is so important for you to go to the fortress of the Prince of the Ui Fidgente?’
‘In other words, you want me to report on the details of the events connected with poor Segdae’s death. You want a report on who the culprit is, assess if he has been tried fairly, discover a way that we can avoid conflict among the religious, stop any talk of execution and bring the Ui Fidgente religious back to the law of the Brehons.’ A wry smile formed around Fidelma’s mouth. ‘Anything else you wish to ask of me, brother?’
King Colgu failed to match her bleak humour when he said morosely, ‘Don’t think I ask this of you lightly.’
Fidelma wanted to know: ‘When do you expect the Chief Brehon to return from Tara?’
‘Not before a full month.’
Fidelma sighed deeply. ‘It is a bad time for him to be away. Also, it is a bad time for Gorman to be absent.’
Gorman was the commander of the King’s bodyguard, the elite warriors of the Golden Collar, the Nasc Niadh. He had been given special permission by Colgu to absent himself to follow the girl, Aibell, with whom he had fallen in love. She had suddenly quitted Cashel, having apparently decided to join Deogaire, a strange young mystic who had once rescued her from being a bondservant in the western fastness of Sliabh Luachra. Colgu and Fidelma had both felt sorry for Gorman, having evidently been deserted by the capricious Aibell. Colgu had, however, given him the opportunity to follow her and attempt to win her back.
‘Gorman is a good strategist,’ her brother conceded, ‘but we have a sound temporary commander in Aidan. We must ensure that no one tries to take advantage of this situation, and so I will ask Aidan to prepare our catha, the battalions of our warriors, just in case the worst may happen. I hoped I could trust Prince Donennach, especially after the recent developments. But one never can be sure with the Ui Fidgente.’
‘When do you want me to leave for Prince Donennach’s fortress?’
‘An hour ago.’ Colgu then grinned and added: ‘Well, as soon as you can.’
Fidelma had risen from her chair. ‘I must make arrangements for the care of Alchu, and also inform Eadulf.’
Alchu was her young son. She was at the door when her brother called: ‘I have already sent word to Prince Donennach by his own messenger that you will be coming in my place, representing both myself and the Chief Brehon.’
Fidelma turned and said, ‘I see. So you were sure that I would go, then?’
Colgu raised a smile at his sibling. ‘You forget that I know you too well, Fidelma. It is not often that a mentor of ours, who is Abbot and Chief Bishop, is murdered. I’ve also told Enda to hold himself ready to accompany you. He will instruct the stables to prepare your horses and provisions for the journey.’ Colgus smile vanished and he looked tired and worried. She read the anxiety in his eyes as he gazed into her own. ‘Sister, I am relying on you and Eadulf. I can sense some mystery here. Something does not quite add up in the facts that have been related to me. I feel …’
Fidelma waited for him to finish, and when he did not, she said quietly: ‘I think you believe this might be some Ui Fidgente plot to draw you out of the protection of Cashel and into their territory for a specific reason. I mean, a reason other than to serve the cause of justice for our friend and chief adviser. I think that is why you will not go to Dun Eochair Mhaigh alone.’
Colgu looked contrite. ‘I should never underestimate your powers of perception, sister. That is precisely what is in my mind. If there is some plot, then those behind it will want to overthrow me, the King, not my sister. They would not dare harm you. You enjoy the friendship and support of the High King at Tara, and your reputation even extends to Rome. The unleashing of the Hounds from Cruachan, the Mouth of Hell, would be as nothing compared to the retribution they would face from Tara and Rome. So I believe it is only I who stands in danger if there is any subterfuge arising from this matter.’
‘I hope you are right, brother,’ Fidelma said tartly. ‘If there is such a plot, then you are staking my life on your interpretation of it!’
She found Eadulf in the palace library poring over a copy of the Uraicecht Becc, a tract on the status of individuals in society. She glanced over his shoulder and saw he was reading about the status of a midach or physician.
‘You are not thinking of going back to complete your medical studies, are you?’ she asked jokingly.
Eadulf looked up with a pensive expression. ‘I could do worse. My few years studying at Tuam Brecain have stood us in good stead several times. However, I feel I should learn more.’
‘You are thinking of the amputation of poor Dego’s arm?’ She was aware that this had been troubling him for some time.
Eadulf had indeed been thinking of that very matter. Dego, the warrior in question, had been so badly wounded that Eadulf had been forced to amputate his right arm in order to save the young man’s life. Only what he had learned in his short study of the healing arts, his instinct and good luck, had saved the warrior. Ever since Eadulf had studied the healing arts, he had carried a les, a physician’s bag, and tried to maintain and extend his knowledge in such matters. He felt he should have been able to perform the task better. Now he answered his wife’s question with a quick nod of assent.
‘Well, Dego has made a miraculous recovery,’ Fidelma assured him gently. ‘He uses his left arm with as much dexterity as he used his right. He can ride and indulge in sword-play as well as any warrior with two good arms and hands.’
‘That is due to his own ability and perseverance,’ Eadulf replied, setting aside the ancient law text. ‘Now, what was it that your brother wished to see you about? Did the messenger bring him some important news, as we thought? You said he bore the banner of the Ui Fidgente prince, and we both know that nothing good ever comes out of that people.’