‘Speaking of which,’ intervened the abbot, ‘I was surprised to learn that Brother Cerdic insisted on visiting Abbess Líoch of Cill Náile and suggesting it was in her interests to attend here.’
‘I recall that the abbess is an old friend of Fidelma,’ Eadulf said. ‘Now I am completely in the dark as to the intention of this deputation, as there are more senior religious in the kingdom than Abbess Líoch who should attend any council.’
‘It could be that Brother Cerdic was asked to invite her because of her knowledge of your people — I mean, the Angles,’ Colgú suggested. ‘Some years ago, Abbess Líoch joined a party of missionaries to the Kingdom of Northumbria and spent time at an abbey called Laestingau. So she knows something of your people and their ways.’
Abbot Ségdae nodded. ‘It would be good to have her expertise at this meeting as well as your own.’
‘I have no objection,’ Eadulf agreed, knowing full well that the abbot was not asking him if he objected or not. ‘I have not met the abbess before.’
Cill Náile, he knew, was an easy ride east of Cashel, but he had never visited the small religious community there. Líoch, so Fidelma had told him, had been one of her companions when she set out to join the group of Irish delegates journeying to the Great Council of Streonshalh. As far as he recalled, Líoch had not attended the council. She remained at Laestingau, some days’ ride west of Streonshalh.
‘Where is Brother Cerdic now?’ he asked the abbot. ‘I understand that he came with you to Cashel.’
Abbot Ségdae’s face became glum. ‘He did. He is here awaiting the arrival of the rest of his deputation.’
‘Then perhaps I should go and speak with him? I might be able to pick up some further information.’
‘I was hoping you would,’ Colgú said. ‘It is hard to get any understanding of what is going on. This whole matter makes me uneasy.’
‘You should find him in the chapel,’ offered the abbot. ‘He is someone who appears to prefer to keep himself to himself.’
Eadulf was crossing the courtyard towards the chapel building when Fidelma came riding in through the main gates on her short-necked grey stallion, which she had called Aonbharr after the horse ridden by the old God of the Oceans, Mannanán Mac Lir. Alongside her, smiling broadly astride his piebald pony, was their four-year-old son, Alchú, with his mop of bright red hair. Behind, keeping careful watch, rode Aidan, one of the élite warriors of Cashel.
Eadulf paused for a moment to admire his wife. After the years during which she had been Sister Fidelma, clad in the robes of a religieuse, he had not fully become used to seeing her as ‘Fidelma, Princess of the Eóghanacht’. Her red hair was plaited in three braids, held in place with silver circlets on her head. She wore a tunic that fitted tightly to the waist and then billowed over her upper legs, which were encased in tight-fitting triubhas, or trousers, that fitted into leather boots that came just above the ankles and were of a matching blue. From her shoulders hung a short cloak, with a beaver-skin collar, clasped together by a silver brooch. Each garment was patterned in designs picked out in gold and silver needlework.
Although Fidelma had quit the religious, Eadulf had not and so still kept to his Roman tonsure and robes, though at times he felt a little drab standing at his wife’s side.
He stirred himself and hurried forward to help his son from his horse, a fraction of a second before the echaire, who looked after the stables, had reached the group.
‘Hello, little hound,’ Eadulf greeted the child. ‘Have you had a good ride?’ He used the literal meaning of the boy’s name as a term of endearment.
The boy fell into his arms with a laugh of greeting.
‘We had a wonderful time, athair,’ he replied. ‘We were riding through the forest and surprised some deer. They ran away from us. Then we were coming home and saw a lot of men putting up a new building.’
‘A new building?’ Eadulf frowned for a moment.
‘He means the repairs to the south-western wall,’ explained Fidelma. ‘They are putting up a temporary wooden framework to support the workmen and their materials while they repair the wall.’
Eadulf recalled that there had been a rockfall under the wall of the King’s fortress during the winter, which had caused damage to that extremity of the fortifications. The Rock of Cashel, on which the great fortress of the Eóghanacht Kings of Muman was built, rose from the surrounding plain with almost inaccessible limestone faces to a height of sixty-two metres from its immediate base. On top, nearly a thousand square metres were enclosed by the fortifications that the Eóghanacht had erected since they chose the site as their principal fortress nearly four centuries before.
Eadulf was about to warn the little boy of the dangers of going near a building site but Alchú was continuing, ‘And we saw two strange women and we saw. .’
Smiling, Fidelma had dismounted and handed her horse to the care of the stable-master, while dismissing the warrior Aidan with a wave of her hand.
‘You’ll be able to tell your father all about it as soon as you have cleaned yourself up,’ she told the boy. ‘See? Here is Muirgen come to take you for a wash and something nice to eat afterwards.’
Muirgen, the nurse, had appeared and the boy went to take her outstretched hand without any sign of reluctance. Eadulf was mildly surprised at Fidelma halting the boy’s enthusiastic recital of his morning adventures, but then he caught something in her eye and knew she wanted to speak to him privately.
‘I’ll come along soon, little hound,’ Eadulf called after his son, as the nurse led him away. ‘You can tell me all your adventures then.’
Alchú’s mind was clearly on the promised snack so he barely acknowledged his father but trotted off happily with the nurse.
The horses had been led off to the stables and the courtyard had emptied when Eadulf turned back to Fidelma.
‘Is something wrong?’ he asked softly.
‘I am not sure,’ she replied. ‘I met someone I knew on the way to Cashel. We stopped for a chat.’
Eadulf raised an eyebrow in query. ‘The strange women of Alchú’s story?’
Fidelma grimaced. ‘I suppose Abbess Líoch would seem strange to a little boy. As you know, in this land we love bright colours in our dress and the religious are no exception. But since Líoch has returned from the Saxon lands, she has affected black in all her garments; even her cenn-barr or head veil is black, as well as all the fasteners for her upper garments. There is not a precious stone to be seen unless it be a black stone in dark metal.’
‘Abbess Líoch?’ Eadulf did not conceal his surprise. ‘Has she arrived already?’
‘Already?’ Fidelma stared at him, puzzled. ‘You knew that she was expected in Cashel?’
‘I know that she had been asked to come here,’ he confirmed. ‘But you tell your story first. I’ll keep quiet and then I’ll tell you what I know.’
‘Well, we were on our way back from our ride, joining the main track to Cashel,’ Fidelma said. ‘That was when we saw the abbess and her bann-mhaor, her female steward — I forget her name, but it was one of the sisters of her community. As I know Líoch, we stopped to speak. She told me that she had been asked to come here as there was to be a council. A deputation from one of the kingdoms of the Saxons was expected. It sounded very mysterious.’
‘Where is Abbess Líoch now?’ asked Eadulf, looking expectantly towards the gates.
‘She would ride only as far as the township with us. She and her companion have gone to seek hospitality in the town, although I pointed out that my brother’s palace has room enough to extend food and shelter to them both. The point is, Eadulf, it seems as if she has some trepidation about this gathering. What is it all about?’