‘You must know that I would not harm old Bishop Petrán.’
‘I know that. The trouble is that Dathal is Chief Brehon. He has authority, even over my brother to some extent. I am waiting to see Colgú. He does not know what has happened yet as he is in council with Conrí, the Uí Fidgente warlord.’
‘I heard that Conrí was here. I must hear all about that from you.’
‘It is a long story. But let me ask you first what it was that took you to the abbey of Coimán? In other words, why did you leave Cashel? Brehon Dathal is claiming it was because you killed the old man.’
‘That is sheer nonsense. I went to find Conchoille, the woodsman-’
‘Who says you never saw him.’
Eadulf nodded quickly. ‘That is true. I went to the inn where Conchoille said he had supper on the night he found Sárait-’
‘Ferloga’s inn at Rath na Drínne?’
‘The same. Ferloga told me of itinerants who were encamped in the wood. But they only had one baby with them …’
Fidelma’s eyes brightened with excitement.
‘And when we went to Ara’s Well we were told these itinerants had two babies?’ she said.
‘Exactly! I knew that they were heading towards the abbey of Coimán, so I left the note for you and hurried after them. It was a desperate lead, but our only one. It turned out that I was correct. They were innocent in their intent and they are now here at the camping ground with the crossan to explain matters. Their names are Corb and Corbnait.’
‘I will go to see them.’
‘One other thing. Gormán will give you the details … but Fiachrae of Cnoc Loinge is a traitor to your brother.’
Fidelma looked shocked, and then she said quickly: ‘I want to hear it all in detail. But first we must secure your release.’
‘How am I supposed to have killed Petrán?’
‘By poison. I am told that Brehon Dathal is coming to question you. Do not worry. We shall have you free soon.’
Eadulf sighed deeply. ‘In the short time that I have been here in this cell, Fidelma, I have thought much. On the ride back from the bridge Caol told me roughly what had happened with you and Conrí. Is it true?’
‘That Conrí rescued me? It is true.’
‘And if Sárait was not murdered during the kidnapping of our child and Alchú was simply left to perish in the woods, as the travellers claimed, why was Sárait lured out of the palace to her death in the first place? Who killed her?’ Eadulf leant forward and laid a hand on her arm. ‘Think about this, Fidelma. We employed Sárait to be a wet nurse to young Alchú, didn’t we?’
Fidelma made an impatient gesture. ‘You know we did.’
‘But when?’
‘From the time he was born. Six months ago. What is there to think about on that matter?’
Eadulf regarded her with an intent look for a moment.
‘I had overlooked the point until it was proposed to me that I needed a wet nurse to look after the baby on the journey to Cashel,’ he said quietly. ‘When we employed Sárait her own child was very recently dead. It was stillborn, according to her account. Alchú was born six months ago and she was able to feed him.’
Fidelma was trying to follow his thoughts. ‘And?’
‘Who was the father of Sárait’s baby?’
‘Why, Callada, of course, who was…’ She paused and stared back.
Eadulf gave a small smile of triumph. ‘Who was killed at Cnoc Aine,’ he said softly. ‘Exactly so.’
Fidelma exhaled slowly. ‘Gormán? You think he was the father?’
‘I have not asked him yet.’
‘I see,’ she said softly. Then she shook herself, almost like a dog shaking itself after being immersed in water. ‘But the first task I must set myself is to find out why Brehon Dathal has had you incarcerated. Don’t worry, I shall get you released soon.’
She made a move towards the door and then turned back, impulsively taking both his hands in her own.
‘Eadulf, I regret all the things I did or said, and any actions of my people, that have made you feel a stranger and inferior to us.’
Eadulf grinned awkwardly. ‘No one can make another feel inferior without his or her consent. If a person thinks others are deeming him inferior it is because he feels it. I may have felt unwelcome at times, but that is because I am a stranger to this land and, as such, not welcome to some. But that is the nature of people. We are always more comfortable with the things we know.’
‘Will you forgive us … will you forgive me?’
‘You cannot forgive the golden eagle for being a golden eagle,’ he replied gently. ‘There is nothing to forgive you for because you have acted in accordance with your nature.’
Fidelma pouted. ‘Eadulf, at times you make me despair. You are too nice and forgiving,’ she admonished him.
He shrugged with a whimsical smile. ‘And that is my nature.’
Fidelma was crossing the courtyard when she became aware of a disturbance at the gates. She crossed to them and found Caol with a man and a woman. The latter held a baby in her arms.
‘What is it?’ Fidelma demanded.
Caol grimaced in annoyance. ‘An itinerant herbalist and his wife demanding entrance. I have told them to be on their way.’
‘But the Saxon brother-’ began the man.
‘Silence. You are speaking in the presence of the sister of the king,’ snapped Caol.
‘Wait!’ instructed Fidelma. ‘You are the herbalist Corb and you are his wife Corbnait?’
‘We are. Brother Eadulf told us to come here and we promised we would even though it might bring down punishment upon us. I am a man of my word. I was not always an itinerant.’
Fidelma’s face softened. ‘You are most welcome. I do not blame either of you for the role you have played. Indeed, you were the means of saving my son’s life when he was abandoned in the forest. Come, we will take a drink together and over it you may tell me the story that you told to Brother Eadulf.’
She was turning away when Caol called after her. She glanced back.
‘You asked me to tell you when Brother Conchobar returned to Cashel,’ the warrior reminded her. ‘He has done so.’
The door of the cell opened and Brehon Dathal came in. He stood looking sourly at Eadulf.
Eadulf sprang up from the single cot that furnished the cell.
‘What is this nonsense?’ he demanded.
Brehon Dathal motioned to someone who stood outside the door and a warrior handed him a three-legged stool.
‘Sit down,’ the old man ordered sharply.
Eadulf reluctantly obeyed. ‘I say again, what is this nonsense, Dathal? Who has made up this preposterous story that I killed Bishop Petrán?’
‘Do you deny that you have often argued with Bishop Petrán?’
Eadulf almost laughed. ‘I do not. We disagreed fundamentally about matters relating to the conduct of the church. And most people in the five kingdoms would also disagree with his teachings. While I have supported the authority of Rome, for we are told it is where Peter, into whose hands the Christ gave the building of his church, began that task, I cannot support Petrán’s other more ascetic arguments.’
‘So you killed him?’
Eadulf snorted in indignation.
Brehon Dathal regarded him sourly.
‘You would do well to take me seriously, Saxon. Do you think that because I am old I cannot any longer judge the facts?’
Eadulf stared at him for a moment or two.
‘I do not care whether you are young or old. When a false accusation is made, I do not take it kindly. I could similarly ask you whether it is because I am a stranger to this land that you think I must be guilty of murder?’
‘I abide by the law,’ snapped Brehon Dathal. ‘I am not prejudiced against you.’