‘I am told that you have accused Intat of leading a band of his warriors in the destruction of the entire village? Myinformation is that a band of panic-stricken people from some neighbouring village burnt it down.’
‘You have heard incorrectly.’
‘That is a serious accusation.’
‘It is a serious crime,’ confirmed Fidelma coldly.
‘I shall need evidence before I can act on such a charge,’ Salbach replied stubbornly.
‘The evidence will be found in the charred ruins of Rae na Scríne.’
‘That proves the village was burnt and perhaps that people were killed. What evidence is there that Intat was responsible?’
‘Cass, of the bodyguard of the King of Cashel, and I rode into the village while the terrible deed was being done. We spoke with the man called Intat. He turned us away with threat to our lives.’
Salbach’s eyes widened a fraction with incredulity.
‘He let you go? Surely, if he were engaged in such a crime, you would not be here to tell of it?’
Fidelma wondered why it seemed that Salbach was attempting to protect his bó-aire.
‘Intat did not realise that we had seen what he was doing. We doubled back to the village after we had left him on the highway. Nor did he realise that there were survivors from the village who can give better testimony as to what happened than we can.’
Did Salbach swallow nervously? Did a look of apprehension grow over his features?
‘There were survivors?’
‘Yes.’ It was Abbot Brocc who replied. ‘There were half-a-dozen survivors. Some children …’
‘Children cannot testify under law,’ Salbach snapped. ‘They have no legal obligations until they reach the age of choice.’
Fidelma noted that point of law came trotting swiftly from Salbach’s tongue.
‘There was also one adult with them,’ she said softly. ‘And if the one adult is not enough, then bring this man Intat before Cass and myself, and we will testify whether he is the man we saw leading those who held burning brand torches and swords in their hands and who threatened our lives.’
‘How was Intat identified anyway?’ demanded Salbach sullenly. ‘How could you know the man’s name?’
‘He was identified by Sister Eisten,’ answered the abbot.
‘Ah! So she is the survivor of whom you speak?’
Salbach’s eyes were hooded again. Fidelma would have given anything to hear the thoughts which appeared to be tumbling in his mind. His face was a mask but there seemed to be a frenzy of thoughts behind those hooded eyes.
‘It is hard to believe this of Intat.’ Salbach sighed suddenly, putting down his drained goblet of wine, as if he were finally convinced. ‘I am saddened to hear of this evidence against him. Are Sister Eisten and the children staying in Ros Ailithir?’
Brocc replied again before Fidelma could speak.
‘Yes. We will probably send them shortly to the orphanage run by Molua.’
‘I would like to see them,’ pressed Salbach.
‘It may be some days before that can be,’ Fidelma said hurriedly, with a meaningful glance at Brocc. The abbot stared in bewilderment at her. ‘The abbot has ordered them to be placed in quarantine so that they can be cleared of any contagion from the Yellow Plague.’
‘But …’ began Brocc. Then bit his tongue.
Salbach had not appeared to notice this unfinished protest and was rising to his feet.
‘I will be back to question Sister Eisten and the children when it is more convenient,’ he said. ‘But, since the matter contained a grave accusation against one of my magistrates, I felt I had to come immediately to test the evidence. I shall setout to find Intat and see what he has to say. If the crime is laid at his door, then he will answer for it before my own Brehon. You may rest assured of that, Sister Fidelma.’
‘Cashel would expect no less,’ replied Fidelma gravely.
Salbach stared hard at her, seeking some hidden meaning but Fidelma continued to return his look without expression.
‘We are a proud people here, Sister Fidelma,’ Salbach said. His voice, while soft, was full of hidden meaning. ‘The Corco Loígde claim their descent from the family of Míl Easpain, who led the ancestors of the Gaels to this land at the beginning of time. A challenge to the honour of one of us is a challenge to the honour of all of us. And if one of us betrays his honour, he betrays us all and will be punished.’
He hesitated a moment, as if he would say something else, then he turned to the abbot.
‘I will be on my way then, abbot,’ he began but Fidelma interrupted.
‘There are some questions on another matter which you may help me with, Salbach.’
Salbach glanced at her in astonishment for he had made clear that the meeting had ended. It was clear he was used to dictating his own way.
‘I am busy now …’
‘In this I am acting on behalf of the king of Cashel,’ insisted Fidelma. ‘It concerns the murder of the Venerable Dacán.’
Salbach hesitated as though he would dispute with her but then shrugged indifferently.
‘It is a grave business,’ he conceded. ‘I know nothing of the death of the old man. So how can I help you?’
‘Did you know the Venerable Dacán?’
‘Who did not know him by reputation?’ Salbach parried.
‘I believe you met him?’
The question was merely a guess and Fidelma saw the quick flush on Salbach’s face. It had only been an instinct which had made her chance the question.
‘I did meet Dacan a few times,’ Salbach admitted.
‘Was that here, at Ros Ailithir?’
Fidelma had to conceal her surprise when Salbach shook his head.
‘No. I met him at Cealla, at one of the great residences of the chieftains of Osraige.’
‘In Osraige? When was this?’
‘A year ago.’
‘May I ask what you were doing in Osraige?’
‘Visiting my cousin, Scandlán, who is king there.’ Salbach could not keep the vanity out of his voice.
Fidelma was again reminded that her brother, Colgú, had told her that the kings of Osraige were related to the chieftains of the Corco Loígde.
‘I see,’ she said slowly. ‘Yet you did not meet the Venerable Dacan when he came to Ros Ailithir?’
‘No, I did not.’
Something prompted Fidelma to doubt him. Yet she could not get beyond that hooded buzzard expression. She realised that she did not like Salbach at all. Then she flushed as she remembered her homily to Sister Necht. In spite of that, Fidelma believed that there was something sinister about Salbach and that was why she disliked him. There was something evil and harsh in those pale eyes of his. He reminded her so much of a bird of prey.
‘But you did meet with Assíd of Laigin?’ she switched the question abruptly, still relying on her instinct.
Salbach’s mouth slackened a little. There was a momentary glint in his eyes.
‘Yes,’ he admitted slowly. ‘He came to my fortress at Cuan Dóir to trade.’
‘He is a coastal trader?’
‘Yes. He traded at our copper mines. He brought us Gaulish wine which had been landed in Laigin and we traded copper for the wine.’
‘So you have known Assíd for a long time … in his rôle as a merchant, that is?’
Salbach grimaced negatively.
‘I said that I have met him. That is all. He was trading here last summer and the summer before that. Why do you ask these questions?’
‘It is my task to do so, chieftain of the Corco Loígde,’ she replied with patient humour.
‘Am I free to go now?’ There was a condescending sneer in his voice.
‘I trust that we shall hear soon that you have been successful in your search for Intat?’
‘I will make a point of informing you,’ Salbach replied stiffly.
With a brief bow in her direction and a curt nod to the abbot, Salbach left the room.
Abbot Brocc was looking unhappy.
‘Salbach is not a person who likes losing face, cousin,’ he commented anxiously. ‘I felt I was witness to two cats meeting to dispute the same territory.’