The sallow-complexioned steward, Spealáin, appeared on the steps of the Great Hall, then came forward to greet them with a wary smile of welcome on his dark features.
‘Greetings, lady, and to you, Brother Eadulf. We did not expect you back so soon, especially with the news from the west.’
‘And what news would that be, Spealáin?’ Fidelma asked.
‘Have you not heard, lady? It is bad news, indeed.’
‘I have heard that there has been some battle near Muine Gairid,’ she said, glancing at Eadulf, ‘and that the bandits were dispersed.’
‘That is old news now, lady. Apparently there is to be another and bigger battle expected any day now. Your brother, King Colgú, has led his troops out of Cashel to meet the rebel force. I am told that he has led an entire cath, a battalion of three thousand warriors, into the land of the Uí Fidgente.’
They heard his words in amazement and Eadulf began: ‘But if the bandits had fled after being confronted …?’
‘The raiders apparently rode back into the western mountains where, it is reported, they have regrouped and were joined by many others. Now a large rebel force has gathered.’
‘How did you come by this news?’ Fidelma wanted to know as the steward conducted them into the Great Hall of Durlus.
‘We heard the news only last evening, when Drón of Gabrán and his daughter arrived from Cashel. Your brother had sent them hither for safety in case the day does not go well for him.’
‘They brought this news to you?’ Her tone was slightly incredulous.
‘Indeed, they did, lady.’
‘And they are still your guests here?’
‘They are. They came with an escort of Drón’s bodyguard.’
‘We would like to see the Lady Gelgéis,’ Fidelma said after a brief pause.
‘I will take you to her chambers immediately.’
They followed him across the Great Hall which, for the time being, appeared to be empty. Eadulf could see that Fidelma was as astonished by the news as he was. It was astounding to hear that a band of raiders had grown overnight into a large rebel army. However, it seemed unlike Colgú to send anyone away from Cashel for safety. The great Palace of the Eóghanacht was one of the strongest fortifications in the country, rising 200 feet above the surrounding countryside on its base of limestone rock; its walls had never suffered a defeat since the great King Corc had first kindled his fires on it and proclaimed it to be the seat of the Kings of Muman many centuries before. Not even when Colgú had led his troops against the rebellious Uí Fidgente some years before at Cnoc Áine, had there been any necessity to abandon Cashel. This was strange news indeed. She wished that she had not let Enda ride off to Cashel at dawn if all was not well there.
Spealáin accompanied them up a wide stone stairway on the far side of the hall to the next floor, where the senior members of the fortress had their living quarters. At the end he asked them to wait while he knocked respectfully on the door of what turned out to be Gelgéis’s personal reception room. He entered and closed the door behind him, only to reappear a moment later and beckon them in.
Gelgéis had risen from her chair in token of respect to Fidelma. Eadulf, behind Fidelma, saw her body tense a little. Then he realised that Gelgéis had been closeted with Drón, the emaciated-looking noble of Gabrán. He had also risen, and there was something close to a sneer on his thin, red lips. Unattractive as it was, Eadulf knew from past experience that this was the closest the man could come to a smile.
‘It seems that my small fortress has become a place of refuge for the Eóghanacht and their kin,’ greeted Gelgéis dryly.
Fidelma took a deep breath. ‘I am not seeking refuge …’ she began.
‘Then you have not heard the news?’ It was Drón who intervened.
‘The steward has told us a story which we can hardly believe,’ she replied. ‘I find it curious that my brother, the King, should advise you, Lord of Gabrán, to seek refuge away from Cashel whose walls have never once been breached since the Eóghanacht made it their capital. I am told that a rebel army has suddenly materialised as if by magic out of the western mountains.’
Eadulf was sure that the twitch at the corner of Gelgéis’s mouth was one of amusement. She indicated that they should be seated and resumed her own seat.
‘We were just discussing the matter,’ she said. ‘Of course, your brother would be concerned with the safety of his bride-to-be but I think Drón was about to answer this very question when you arrived. If I understand matters correctly, Drón himself made the suggestion that they come here.’
‘I was concerned,’ admitted Drón. ‘I suggested that we removed ourselves from Cashel until this matter of rebellion in the west is resolved.’
Fidelma turned to him. Her expression brought a faint colour to his pale cheeks.
‘I have my daughter’s safety close to my heart, lady,’ he continued defiantly. ‘It was not of myself that I was thinking. I would stay and draw my sword in defence of the King if it were necessary. I have tried to keep Dúnliath out of harm’s way ever since her mother abandoned her. Were it not for my daughter, I would gladly volunteer to join any of the King’s hosting.’
‘Of course,’ agreed Gelgéis in a sweet tone of voice. ‘No one is questioning your loyalty to the King. Yet I perceive no danger to Cashel. You have told me that Colgú is leading an entire battalion of his warriors out to face these rebels …’
‘And yet,’ Fidelma intervened with emphasis in her voice, ‘my understanding was that these same rebels, whoever they are, were just a band of raiders, bandits who had already been defeated by a single company of my brother’s warriors. How have they now grown into a great rebellious army?’
‘The survivors of these rebels were driven back into the western mountains and there they were joined by many others,’ Drón said immediately. ‘That certainly was the story that merchants brought to us and why I decided to hasten here for safety when Colgú left to confront them.’
‘With my brother gone from Cashel, who was left in charge of its defences?’ asked Fidelma.
‘Why, his heir-apparent, I suppose. Finguine.’
‘So Finguine has returned from the Cenél Lóegairi?’
‘He returned a few days ago. However, with rebellion abroad I felt that we should seek protection in a more neutral territory.’
Fidelma’s eyebrows rose slightly. ‘A neutral territory? Éile is still part of the Kingdom of Muman,’ she pointed out.
‘Well, whatever the cause of your coming here, Drón,’ Gelgéis said quickly, ‘be assured that you and your daughter are welcome to share the safety of these walls from any enemy, be they foreign or domestic. The freedom of our fortress is yours, Drón. I shall look forward to your company at the midday meal?’
It was clear that Drón was being dismissed. He did not look happy but rose reluctantly to make his exit with formal etiquette. However, as he passed by Fidelma, he paused and whispered: ‘There is a matter I wish to speak with you about. Urgently.’
‘Then I will find you later,’ nodded Fidelma.
When the door had closed behind him, leaving Gelgéis alone with Fidelma and Eadulf, the Princess of the Éile seemed to relax.
‘I cannot forget that Drón is of the Osraige and I find it difficult to trust him,’ she confided. ‘So now, Fidelma, you seem sceptical of the news he brings. You do not believe that there is a full-scale rebellion in the west of the kingdom rather than just a series of bandit raids?’
‘What do you believe?’ countered Fidelma.
‘I think Drón is more timid than he likes to admit.’ Gelgéis smiled. ‘I believe he came here fearing more for his own safety than that of his daughter. But I can’t see him inventing the idea of your brother having to lead an entire army to the west if he was just going to put down a few bandits.’