When she looked at Fidelma, the latter smiled encouragement and motioned for her to continue.
‘Fidelma said that Brehon Barrán was working with someone else, his lover, someone who wanted to share the power with him and was as ambitious for it as he was. So when Báine charges Barrán, let us remember the full extent of the part she played. She obviously led Barrán on. She was his lover.’
But Fidelma was already answering her. ‘Lady Gormflaith, I would have spared you this with the best will in the world. However, you are right in your reminder to the Great Assembly that there was someone else working with the Chief Brehon. But it was not Báine, a lowly servant in the royal house, who was Barrán’s lover and co-conspirator – someone eager to share power with him as High King.’
‘Then name the woman, if you know it,’ instructed Brehon Sedna.
‘I am afraid that there was one other person who helped bring Dubh Duin into your life, Gormflaith. One other person who gave their authority to ask the guards to pass Dubh Duin into the royal enclosure at night, and finally gave instruction to the guard Erc to allow Dubh Duin free access at night so that he could pass in when the time came for the assassination … ’
Muirgel, with a scream, had leaped up and seemed for a moment to be trying to escape but Irél had seized her.
Gormflaith gazed ashen-faced at her eldest daughter.
‘It’s not true!’ shouted Brehon Barrán, springing up, and found the hand of one of the Fianna on his shoulder restraining him.
‘Of course it’s true,’ jeered Báine from her seat. ‘Muirgel was in this plot from the start. Again, I will bear witness to it.’
‘But in a plot to … to kill her own father!’ Brehon Sedna was horrified.
‘Ambition destroys the feelings of its possessor,’ muttered Abbot Colmán, using an old saying.
Muirgel stood, held by Irél, scowling at them; her blazing eyes seemed to be cursing them silently.
‘She thought to use us all,’ Báine said in disgust. ‘We were together as conspirators, each with our own ambitions. She was too arrogant to see that we were using her and her clownish lover, Barrán. Clownish, aye, for how could a young girl like Muirgel love him, a decrepit old man? She was using him, just as she used everyone else. She was ambitious for power – power was her only god.’
Fidelma let her gaze wander from the snarling young woman to the suddenly deflated old man who had once been Chief Brehon of the five kingdoms, renowned throughout the land. Now he seemed a feeble, emotional wreck of a man. He sat forward, his head in his hands as he realised how he, in turn, had been manipulated.
‘Ambition is a mounting demon who first corrupts and then rots the heart and the mind.’ Fidelma spoke out strongly, addressing all present. ‘It invites the shallow residue of humanity to dance with it and, if the dance be successful, it has but one reward – transient power and fame before sinking into the oblivion of the grave.’
Eadulf regarded her in surprise. She smiled back.
‘They are lines from a pagan poet,’ she explained softly.
Abbot Colmán and Brehon Sedna were now calling for order among the astonished and voluble Great Assembly.
‘The Chief Brehon Barrán is, of course, suspended from his office and his nomination as tánaiste to the High King is withdrawn. He, together with Muirgel, daughter of Sechnussach, and Báine and Cuan, will be held for the conspiracy in the assassination of Sechnussach,’ Brehon Sedna announced solemnly.
Abbot Colmán nodded his agreement with the announcement.
‘It is good to come to an end of this affair,’ he said. ‘My only regret is that Dubh Duin killed himself so that we cannot try him for the murder of the High King.’
‘But Dubh Duin did not murder the High King.’
The sentence clearly spoken by Fidelma caused a silence more complete than any that had gone before. It seemed that all present held their breath.
Brehon Sedna stared at her in disbelief. ‘Are you joking with us, Fidelma?’
‘It is no joke.’
‘What of the witnesses – what of the fact that, when caught in the act, Dubh Duin took his own life? Be reasonable.’
‘Nevertheless, the truth remains that Dubh Duin did not murder Sechnussach,’ she said again, more firmly still.
‘You will have to explain yourself.’
‘It is simple to do so. When Dubh Duin took his knife and cut Sechnussach’s throat, the High King was already dead.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
This new announcement was greeted with a stunned silence, as if everyone present had suddenly been transformed into statues of stone. Even the conspirators, about to be led away, looked shocked.
It was Abbot Colmán who finally broke the spell that had descended on the hall.
‘I think you had better explain, Fidelma,’ he said at last, trying to sound stern but sounding merely bewildered.
Fidelma turned to Iceadh the physician. ‘I would like to present my first witnesses for this statement. Stand up, Iceadh.’
The old physician did so, peering round nervously at the assembly.
‘When I first asked you to describe to me the wounds inflicted on Sechnussach’s body, what exactly did you tell me?’
Iceadh sniffed impatiently. ‘My account was no different from the one I gave everyone else. Sechnussach’s throat was cut. The jugular vein severed. Short stab to the heart. Either could have been fatal. Sharp instrument found with assassin. A hunter’s knife. Honed to sharpness that would slice anything. Sechnussach died instantly.’
‘Precisely,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘And the one thing that we have been overlooking was the short stab to the heart that, as you say, could be just as fatal as the cutting of the throat.’
Iceadh frowned and shook his head fiercely. ‘I did not overlook it,’ he said grumpily. ‘I reported it as I saw it.’
‘And I am glad you did so,’ confirmed Fidelma, with a pacifying smile. ‘But everyone else overlooked it. You see,’ she went on, turning to the Great Assembly, ‘Sechnussach had already been stabbed in the heart and killed before Dubh Duin entered the chamber and cut his throat.’
Brehon Sedna was leaning back and smiling sceptically as a ripple of sound ran round the Great Assembly.
‘Now that is a theory that you will be hard-pressed to prove, Fidelma,’ he remarked, almost patronisingly.
Fidelma flushed a moment and then returned his smile with her most dangerous icy look.
‘I never make claims that I cannot substantiate, Brehon Sedna. I now intend to prove it,’ she said sharply. She turned again to the physician. ‘Now, Iceadh, I know little of your profession but I have often watched my old mentor, Brother Conchobhair, at his work in Cashel.’
‘Brother Conchobhair is known to me,’ Iceadh acknowledged, ‘for I have read his treatise on the treatment of galar poil—the epilepsy which it is thought that Paul of Tarsus suffered after his vision.’
‘Would you have any objection if Brother Eadulf asked you a few questions? Most of you will know that Brother Eadulf studied for a while at the great medical school of Tuam Brecain.’
‘I will answer any question worthy of an answer,’ replied Iceadh coldly.
Eadulf stood up and smiled briefly at the physician.
‘I have but few questions, but hope you will find all of them worthy of answers, Iceadh. Let me begin by pointing out the obvious so that all members of the Great Assembly can follow our logic. Arriving here two weeks after the assassination, we were not able to inspect the body of Sechnussach, who had already been buried according to custom. That being so, we must rely on your eyes and observations.’
‘My observations are as sharp now as when I first examined the body,’ Iceadh replied fussily. ‘It is not often that one is called to examine the murdered body of one’s High King. I see the body very clearly in my mind’s eye.’
‘And that is good, for you have given us a weighty piece of evidence. As indicated by Fidelma, you pointe
d to the wound to the heart, which you said was as fatal as the cutting of the throat.’
‘That is true,’ Iceadh conceded, ‘but in what order the wound came, whether it was made before the cutting of the jugular or after it, I cannot say.’
‘I think, as we examine this, you will be able to do so,’ Eadulf assured him, to more gasps from the members of the Great Assembly. ‘I make no claims to be a surgeon, but at the medical school where I studied, I attended many lectures and demonstrations of surgery.’
‘Tuam Brecain is one of our greatest medical schools,’ Iceadh admitted. ‘I grant that the teaching there is of the best.’
‘I have never seen a man have his throat cut,’ went on Eadulf, ‘and, Deo volente, I hope I never will. However, the skilled masters at Tuam Brecain taught by showing what happens when the throat of an animal is cut, how the blood spurts forth like a great spring, powerful and strong.’
Iceadh smiled as if patiently trying to humour him. ‘Just so. Just so,’ he murmured.
‘Stay there a moment, Iceadh. For I would like to ask a question of Brónach,’ Eadulf said.
The woman looked startled and then rose to face Eadulf. ‘Must I answer this stranger?’ she demanded belligerently of Brehon Sedna.
The Brehon frowned in annoyance. ‘If you do not answer him, then you will answer to me,’ he snapped. ‘Eadulf is no stranger to us and has our entire confidence.’
Brónach flushed.
‘As a servant in the royal household, part of your duties was the washing of all the bedlinen. Is that not so?’ Eadulf did not seemed put out by her antagonism.
‘And still is,’ replied the woman tersely.
‘I recall that you told Fidelma and me that you took all the bedlinen and clothes from the High King’s chamber after his assassination for washing. Is that correct?’
‘If you remember, why ask me?’
‘So that you may confirm this to the Great Assembly and show that I am not putting words into your mouth,’ explained Eadulf patiently.
Brehon Sedna leaned forward. ‘I tell you again, Brónach, you will answer Eadulf’s questions promptly and without prevarication.’
‘It is so,’ snapped the woman.
‘Excellent,’ smiled Eadulf. ‘And there was, of course, blood on the linen?’
‘Of course.’
Eadulf glanced at her. ‘Do you recall telling us that there was so little blood that you were able to wash the sheets so that they could be used again, but Brother Rogallach told you to sell them as it would be unlucky for the royal household to keep them?’
‘I do.’ The woman looked wary now, trying to see if Eadulf was leading her into some dangerous admission.
‘Did you find it strange that there was so little blood?’
‘No — why should I?’
‘Because I have seen what happens when a sheep’s throat is cut. There is so much blood that I would say that the entire bed would be soaked in it. Anyway, I have finished. You may be re-seated, Brónach. Indeed, the matter of the lack of blood was perplexing. When we arrived here, Abbot Colmán mentioned that blood must have spurted like a fountain from the wound. It was only later that I discovered he had not actually examined the wounds. But if the throat was cut, the presumption was a valid one.’
Eadulf turned to indicate Irél. ‘It was the commander of the Fianna who first alerted us to the fact that there was little blood and its significance. He had seen many such neck wounds in battle and so commented at the lack of blood that flowed from Sechnussach’s wound.’
Iceadh, the physician, was now looking thoughtful.
‘It is true, now I think on it, that there was remarkably little blood that came from the area of the jugular; as you point out, one would expect fountains to have issued.’ He paused and his eyes widened. ‘The main area of blood was around the heart area. The High King lay on his back and most blood was pooled there. You have made a good observation,’ he said approvingly to Eadulf.
Brehon Sedna leaned forward to interrupt. ‘So what you are saying is that you think the wound into the heart was the fatal one and the throat was cut afterwards?’
‘Just so, just so,’ replied Iceadh. ‘I would agree with that contention. Mind you, there would have to be a short delay between the wounds – otherwise there would have been no negligible effect in the bloodflow. But, as I say, either one was fatal. Dubh Duin could have stabbed Sechnussach in the chest and then, not realising it was fatal, he could have also cut Sechnussach’s throat some time later. I do not see how the order of the wounds can prove … ’
Eadulf held up his hand to stop the old physician.
‘One more question, Iceadh. You observed the wounds. Were you able to ascertain any difference between the knives that inflicted the wounds?’
‘Knives? There was only one knife. It was found in the assassin’s own heart.’
‘Ah, so I don’t suppose you compared the type of wounds inflicted?’ asked Eadulf. ‘The measurements, for example?’
‘I observed only that the wound in the High King’s chest was one simple thrust, a sharp incision. The one in Dubh Duin’s chest was a jagged wound but this was probably due to the fact that he was in a hurry, having, as I am told, been discovered at that point.’
‘Is there any possibility that the two wounds were caused by two different knives?’
Iceadh stared at him. ‘It is not impossible. But only one knife was found and one assassin.’
Eadulf reached forward to take the knife that Fidelma had handed him from her marsupium. He passed it to Iceadh.
‘Had that knife been found next to the High King’s body, would you say that it could have been used in his fatal stabbing?’
Iceadh gazed at the knife. ‘Had it been found next to the body, yes I would have to say that it could have been the knife. But it was not found there.’
Eadulf smiled broadly at the other’s caveats.
‘At this stage,’ he said, ‘you do not have to make any other comment than confirm the possibility.’
‘Where was the knife found?’ demanded Brehon Sedna.
‘If you will be patient a moment or two longer,’ Eadulf replied, ‘Fidelma will come to that point. In the meantime, I would like to ask a question of Torpach, the cook.’
Torpach rose, looking puzzled. ‘What can I say about this, Brother Saxon?’ he muttered nervously.
‘Take the knife from Iceadh and tell us if you recognise it.’
The cook did so, examined it and then swallowed quickly. ‘It is the knife that went missing from my kitchen. A favourite knife. I think I mentioned it to you when poor Mer the Demented was found killed. But she was stabbed with a warrior’s knife. You said so.’
‘Indeed, she was – by the knife of Cuan, who confesses the deed and to the wounding of Brother Rogallach. But are you sure that this knife that you now hold is your own knife?’
‘I use it for slaughtering meat for the High King’s table. I have used it for many years. I know its marks on the handle. Oh yes, I know this knife very well.’
‘And when did you find it missing? I think you mentioned that to us.’
‘It was the day after the High King’s assassination, for there was a pig to be slaughtered. When I found it missing, I went to Brother Rogallach and told him. I even wondered whether the assassin had stolen it to use in his murder. Brother Rogallach assured me that it was not the same knife, for that knife had been found. Where was my knife discovered?’
Fidelma now stood up and allowed Eadulf to resume his seat. She looked quickly around the Great Assembly, noting that most of those present were visibly struggling to follow the arguments, before allowing her gaze to rest on Brehon Sedna.
‘Thank you for your indulgence,’ she told them all. ‘We will not be long now. The witnesses can resume their seats.’
Brehon Sedna addressed her. ‘You must tell us where the knife was found, Sister Fidelma. You have implied that it was used to kill the High King before Dubh D
uin entered his bedchamber and cut his throat. It is a fascinating argument, but it must be backed by fact.’
‘I am coming to the facts,’ Fidelma replied calmly. ‘The knife was found in a secret passageway which leads from the High King’s chambers to a linen storeroom on the lower floor of the Tech Cormaic. The real killer left it there as they fled from the chamber when Dubh Duin entered. You see, Dubh Duin cut the throat of a man who was already dead.’
Brother Rogallach was expostulating. ‘I know of no such passageway, even though I have served here for many years!’
‘It can easily be shown to you after these proceedings,’ Eadulf promised.
‘We are now drawing to the final conclusion,’ Fidelma said. ‘Let me explain. From the very beginning, one thing became obvious to me. There was another person in the High King’s chambers when Dubh Duin entered to kill him. How do I know this? Because the guards were alerted by a scream from those chambers. They assumed it was Sechnussach’s death scream – but even had the High King not been dead already, how can a man with a severed throat scream? So who was responsible? The answer is: the person who was caught unawares by Dubh Duin. They fled through the secret passage, hiding the knife that they had plunged into the High King’s heart when he slept.’
‘I do not suppose we can identify this mysterious killer?’ Brehon Sedna asked.
Fidelma smiled quietly at his cynicism. ‘Certainly. It was the maid, Cnucha.’
Cnucha, who had been sitting quietly through all the proceedings, made no movement at all, other than to raise her head and smile faintly. Her expression seemed to say ‘prove it’.
The ripple of reaction in the chamber died away after a moment or two.
‘And will you tell us how you came to this conclusion and what motive Cnucha had?’ Brehon Sedna carried on.
‘Following the birth of her last child, Be Bhail, three years ago, the lady Gormflaith noticed an estrangement between herself and her husband. I have already mentioned this. As many of you know, it was soon afterwards that she set up her own household in the royal enclosure. She was sure, as she told her daughter Muirgel, that Sechnussach had taken a mistress or even a secret second wife. Why did Sechnussach reject Gormflaith? Who knows the deeper workings of a man’s mind. All he told her, as she repeated it to me, was that he preferred a girl – a girl was the word – who made no demands but, when called for, came to his bed like a maid. It is an interesting expression and one that revealed much about his mind. Gormflaith was a strong character, an intelligent person, and we can speculate that Sechnussach was not happy in his relationship.’
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