Macliau introduced him. ‘This is my father’s bretat. Iarnbud.’
‘Bretat?’ The word seemed so similar to her own language that Fidelma hazarded a guess. ‘Are you a judge, a breitheamh?’
Iarnbud, like many she had by now encountered, spoke Latin, although it was not the old literary language which she had been taught but a curious rolling dialect.
‘Just so, lady. Exactly as you are, for I have been speaking to Brother Metellus as to who you are and how you came here.’
Macliau waved them to chairs at the table. He took the head of the table with his constant companion, the little dog, curled at his feet. They learned that the animal was named Albiorix, which brought a smile to Fidelma’s face. When Eadulf later asked her what the joke was, she explained the name, that literally meant ‘great king’, was the name of a Gaulish god of war equated with the Roman Mars; a curious name for such a docile looking animal. Eadulf had responded that it probably had more to do with Macliau’s character than that of the dog. Fidelma was seated on Macliau’s left and Trifina on his right. Brother Metellus sat next to Fidelma, and the girl, Argantken, had already taken a seat at the bottom opposite Brother Eadulf, with Iarnbud seated between Eadulf and Trifina. At the end of the table, facing Macliau, was Bleidbara.
‘It is good to meet with a Brehon of this land,’ Fidelma opened as the wine was poured. It was a cold white wine from the country. ‘Brother Metellus has obviously told you of the murder and thefts that have taken place. I am interested in your law here. How would you attend to this matter?’
The drawn eyebrows were raised but there was no other expression on the sallow face of the man called Iarnbud.
‘Attend to it?’
‘How would you set about tracking down these thieves and murderers?’
Iarnbud shook his head. ‘That is not my task. It is only once they are caught that the culprits are brought before me and arraigned for judgement.’
‘So who tracks them down and brings them before you?’ pressed Fidelma.
‘Those who charge them.’
Fidelma gave a puzzled shake of her head, saying, ‘There is no office under your law that would be responsible to undertake an investigation to find out the culprits?’
Macliau intervened with a smile.
‘That is the duty my father would assign to his warriors, such as Bleidbara there.’ He indicated the young man.
Fidelma turned with a gaze of enquiry to the young man, who seemed to have developed a high colour on his cheeks. He made a dismissing gesture with his left hand.
‘In truth, lady, I am trained in warfare and the command of men in battle. I can track men as well as animals. But unless they leave tracks for me to follow, I cannot find them.’
‘There are tracks from the scene of the murders of the merchants,’ Eadulf pointed out. ‘Have you examined them?’
‘I sent Boric, my best tracker, who is also my second-in-command, to examine the spot and retrieve the bodies,’ Bleidbara replied. ‘He is not back yet. But the sky was darkening and perhaps it was too late to see anything — there would be nothing to follow. Nonetheless, we will await his report. We are anxious to meet up with these brigands.’
Fidelma became aware that, as he spoke, Bleidbara seemed to concentrate his gaze on Trifina. His expression was one of almost dog-like devotion, his eyes never leaving her face as if ready to jump to her bidding. For her part, Trifina did not bother to glance at him once. Fidelma noted that the warrior was a personable young man with an affable smile and ready wit. She was just wondering what their relationship was when Trifina suddenly yawned, placed a hand over her mouth and murmured an apology to Macliau.
Her brother seemed to take the hint.
‘Come, let us turn our minds to more pleasant matters.’ He glanced towards Fidelma and Eadulf. ‘We have prepared a special meal for you because you are strangers to our land.’
He signalled to a waiting attendant and, from a side door, others brought in flagons of cider and more of the local white wine. The mournful young servant girl now appeared and started to direct the attendants with some authority as they served the evening meal. Her whole attitude had changed from subservience to authority. Fidelma’s quick eye caught the special attention that this girl seemed to be giving the commander of the guard, Bleidbara, while the young man still seemed to exhibit an unusual interest in Trifina. This body language at the table amused Fidelma, for it was clear that the young warrior was attracted by the daughter of the mac’htiern of Brilhag, while the servant girl was obviously attracted by him.
Bowls of steaming soup were placed before them and platters of freshly baked bread. Eadulf examined the soup, stirring it with a frown of curiosity.
‘Local mussel soup with leeks and cream,’ Macliau smiled as he explained.
Brother Metellus was already halfway through his bowl and he paused to wave his spoon in appreciation.
‘Leeks were a favourite of the Emperor Nero,’ he said breezily. ‘It is said that he was very partial to a soup made of leeks.’
The soup was followed by a dish of young eels, which they were told were seasoned with salt, and dressed in imported olive oil and vinegar. The eels were not to Fidelma’s liking and she contented herself with nibbling on a piece of bread while the others finished. Then came the main course: rabbit cooked in cider accompanied by a dish of ceps — large fleshy mushrooms cooked in butter, mixed with shallots, wild garlic, herbs and some nuts that Eadulf could not place.
Brother Metellus helped him out. ‘We called them nux Gallica, nuts of Gaul.’
‘Ah, I think we call them foreign nuts — Welsh Nuts,’ said Eadulf.
The walnuts certainly added to the flavour of the dish. And there was another vegetable dish that made Macliau smile as it was presented to them.
‘This one I am sure that you will not have come across.’
Fidelma surveyed the dish before tasting it.
‘I recognise what the Greeks call katos, the heart of the artichoke, which has long been known to our merchants importing them from the Mediterranean. I have also tasted this juice before…ah, it is lemons. I had them when I was in Rome. There is also sorrel mixed with it.’
Macliau looked disappointed. ‘So you have been to Rome?’ he asked, a little enviously.
‘I have.’
‘One day, I mean to travel there, for Brother Metellus has told me much about it. It sounds a great city,’ Macliau continued.
‘Nullus est instar domus,’ Eadulf soliloquised softly. There is nothing like your own home.
Fidelma glanced at him thoughtfully. He was looking down at his plate, his mind apparently elsewhere. Although Eadulf had spent years in her own land, he was actually an Angle from Seaxmund’s Ham in the land of the South Folk. He even made a joke of it when he was constantly referred to as a Saxon. Fidelma had made the assumption that he had accepted without question that he would remain happily at her brother’s capital of Cashel, although there had been little time spent there due to the nature of the tasks she had been requested to do on behalf of her brother, the King. In fact, she had made only one journey with Eadulf to his home territory, when his friend Brother Botulf had been murdered at Aldred’s Abbey. Was she assuming too much? And there was the matter of their son, Alchú. They had spent so little time with the child, having to leave him with his nurse Muirgen when they went on their journeys. Although Fidelma had a great sense of duty to her brother, the King, it had become a constant worry these days that the child would think that Muirgen was his mother rather than Fidelma.