Eadulf smothered a yawn, doing his best to hide his boredom.
‘And everyone lived in happiness thereafter?’ he said.
The chieftain shook his head.
‘Life is not like a fairy story in this land, Saxon,’ he rebuked his guest, not picking up on Eadulf’s sarcasm. ‘Cormac had his revenge.’
Eadulf had glanced quickly round, wondering why Fidelma was so long in rejoining them. He realised that he should say something, and asked: ‘How?’
‘Cormac had a fosterling named Connla, son of Tadhg, lord of Éile, a rival to the Muman throne, and cousin of Fiachrae. Connla had contracted leprosy while at Tara…’
Eadulf stirred uneasily as he was reminded of the purpose in coming to Cnoc Loinge. ‘Leprosy?’
‘Indeed. And Cormac played a subtle game for his revenge. He persuaded Connla that a cure could be found if he bathed in the blood of a king who was kin to him. Connla went south and was welcomed at the court at Cnoc Rafoan and treated well by Fiachrae. Connla bided his time and one day he and Fiachrae went swimming in the Suir at Áth Aiseal, the ford of the ass. When the opportunity arose, he drove his sword into Fiachrae…’
‘And was cured of leprosy?’ Eadulf smiled.
The chieftain frowned at his flippancy.
‘Of course not,’ he snapped. ‘Connla was taken by Fiachrae’s guards but the dying king, showing his nobility, told them to spare his life and sent him to the house of the lepers in the land of the Corco Duibhne. The king died and was succeeded by his tanist Ailill Flann Bee from whose noble line descends our present king, Colgú … and, of course, your wife Fidelma.’
The chieftain suddenly smiled and cast a sideways glance at Eadulf.
‘But I hear that Fidelma is now mother to a son. How is the child? I believe his name is Alchú, is it not?’
Eadulf seized the opportunity to tell Fiachrae what had brought them to his small settlement. The chieftain’s garrulousness vanished.
‘But… but this is terrible. You should have told me immediately,’ he said. ‘This is catastrophic. A tragedy. Awful.’
Eadulf had the impression that Fiachrae’s words lacked sincerity. He felt a compulsion to point out that he had had little opportunity to tell the chieftain anything. It was only after he had told the story about the dwarf leper that he remembered Fidelma’s reticence about revealing the reason for their presence to Fiachrae earlier.
‘Well,’ Fiachrae said after a moment or two, putting down his mug, ‘there have been no reports of itinerants or lepers of any shape or size passing through here.’
‘Fidelma thought that he might have joined the dwarfs who are here…’
Fiachrae shook his head immediately. ‘These dwarfs are crossan. I hardly think that a leper, or a religious of any sort, would join them.’
‘Crossan?’
‘Crossan or drúth — gleemen or players. They are performing some play and the word has spread so that many people are coming to the fair from the surrounding countryside. I am told that they come from the Féis Tailltenn where they had great success in the entertainment of the High King.’
‘And none of them has been seen with a baby?’
Fiachrae was frowning. ‘You have reason to suspect these performers of the abduction of your child?’
‘There is reason to suppose that a dwarf was involved,’ Eadulf said shortly, for he was not entirely sure he agreed with Fidelma’s intuition on the matter.
‘Well, they do not have any babies with them. Nor have they come from Cashel. I am told that they came from Cluain Mic Nois and Tir dhá Ghlas, the territory of the two streams, directly north of Imleach.’
‘You seem well apprised of their movements.’
Fiachrae smiled thinly. ‘I have to be, my friend. I can take you to the top of the hill behind us and show you where the territory of the Uí Fidgente commences.’
‘So close?’ Eadulf had always associated the Uí Fidgente with a territory well to the west and slightly to the north.
‘Cnoc Áine, where we defeated the Uí Fidgente last year, is only five kilometres north of here. We are on the borderlands of the fractious clan that is always plotting against the rule of the Eóghanacht. That is why I have to take an interest in all the travellers passing through here. My people know this and have orders to tell me of any strangers passing into the country of the Uí Fidgente.’
Eadulf leaned forward with interest. ‘So you would know what travellers have come this way in the last few days?’
Fiachrae smiled complacently. ‘I do. I can tell you of a very strange person, for example, travelling with a religieux from the northern Uí Néill kingdom. He hardly knew our language, although he spoke several including the tongues of the Greek and the Roman.’
‘Ah, I have heard of them,’ agreed Eadulf. However, the chieftain was disposed to continue.
‘Brother Basil Nestorios was his name,’ he went on. ‘His companion, whose name was Brother Tanaide, told me that this Basil Nestorios was a healer from lands in the east. He boasted, or rather Brother Tanaide boasted on his behalf, that he could cure leprosy by his potions and herbs. He was a probably a madman, but most foreigners are…’
He suddenly realised what he had said and glanced at Eadulf to see if he had taken offence.
‘Anyone else?’ pressed Eadulf, ignoring the remark. ‘We are particularly interested in anyone who carried a baby with them.’
Fiachrae shook his head. ‘No one has passed here carrying a solitary baby.’
Eadulf sat back, disappointed.
There was a movement at the door. Fidelma entered, having washed and changed into dry clothing.
‘I am sorry to be so long, Fiachrae,’ she said, coming to the fire and taking her seat before Fiachrae could rise from his chair.
‘Do not worry, cousin. I have been entertaining our Saxon friend with stories of our history, and how it is that this small spot ensured the prosperity of the Eóghanacht.’
Fidelma grimaced. ‘The story of our ancestor Fiachrae son of Eóghan? The story of Cnoc Loinge and the siege is one of the sagas of our kingdom. I remember that you are fond of telling it.’ There was a sense of weariness in her voice as if Fiachrae and his storytelling were well known to her and not really appreciated.
The chieftain beamed a little and rose, moving to the side table.
‘Mead to keep out the cold after your immersion in the stream?’ he offered.
‘I do not wish to seem an ungracious guest, Fiachrae, but I had expected Capa and the others to have returned by now. Surely, the fair is not so large?’
‘It gets larger each year as our prosperity grows. But three pairs of eyes should have accomplished the task of finding a leper.’ His grin broadened as he saw her frown. ‘We have had a long talk, Eadulf and I. He has told me of your quest. You have but to instruct me and if it is in my power, I will accomplish the task.’
Fidelma glanced towards Eadulf and then seemed to relax.
‘You are gracious, Fiachrae.’
‘As I was telling Eadulf here, I know of every stranger who has come to the fair. It is my duty. Your brother, our king, charged me with it after the victory at Cnoc Áine. No lepers are in attendance at the fair today. And the dwarfs are only crossan?