Brother Berrihert impulsively reached forward and took her hand.
‘Bless you, lady. For your understanding and for your trust.’
Fidelma smiled wryly. ‘I do not think it will be displaced.’
‘Yet I know that my father, indeed, myself and my brothers, could be suspect of killing Abbot Ultán just as my father attempted to kill his lackey Drón.’
‘I do not think that you or your brothers had a hand in it,’ replied Fidelma.
‘You may rest assured, lady, that, having observed the obsequies for our father this night, we shall return to Cashel after dawn tomorrow, there to await your judgements on the matters of Abbot Ultán’s death and my father’s attack on Drón.’
Eadulf helped Brother Berrihert to carry the body of Ordwulf, with his battleaxe, up the path to where they had left their horses. He helped Berrihert secure the body on Ordwulf’s horse and Berrihert mounted behind it. Fidelma pointed to the track he must follow which was easy enough as the great Mountains of the Woods were visible. They rose to the north-west and once round their most easterly end, the mouth of the valley of Eatharlaí opened up and Ardane was near.
They watched him set off along the track and then mounted their own horses. Fidelma was a little saddened.
‘Let us pray that the blessed glade of Patrick’s Well will extend its healing quality to the poor lost soul of Ordwulf.’
Eadulf grimaced sceptically. ‘It seems to me that Brother Drón stands more in need of its healing and calming qualities than did Ordwulf.’
Fidelma was thoughtful. ‘Drón and all his ilk are trouble,’ she said as they turned their horses back towards Cashel. ‘Eadulf, I am sorry to place this extra journey on you and Gormán when we return. While I trust the Saxons, I would prefer it if you both accompanied Berrihert’s brothers to attend this funeral of Ordwulf.’
Eadulf gave her a quick glance. ‘You expect some problem?’
‘Not exactly. I want to ensure that there are no problems. Ninnid is always looking for easy solutions and there is a growing impatience among the guests at Cashel which might substitute expediency for justice.’
‘You mean that some will blame Ordwulf for Ultán’s death now that he has attempted the life of Drón? But then who killed Muirchertach? Dúnchad Muirisci?’
‘As I say,’ Fidelma replied, without answering his question, ‘some at Cashel want quick solutions which will probably not be the right ones.’
They arrived back at Cashel by mid-morning and immediately Fidelma sought out Caol to ensure that he and his prisoner had arrived back safely.
The young warrior was rubbing down his horse in the stables.
‘There were no problems on your journey back?’
Caol grinned crookedly. ‘How did you guess that there would be problems, lady?’
‘I did not think that Brother Drón was the type to be a docile companion and come here under your guidance without creating a problem.’
‘Well, he did once try to elude me. But I would not be fit to be commander of your brother’s bodyguard if I had allowed him to be successful.’
‘What did you do?’ asked Eadulf.
‘I gently stroked him on the head with the blunt part of my sword, and while he was stunned I tied his hands with some cord.’
Fidelma grimaced. ‘He will doubtless complain of ill treatment but you did the right thing. Where is he now?’
‘Well, I know he is a guest here but, judging by his behaviour, he needed to be placed somewhere secure until you can decide what to do with him. I had him placed in the Duma na nGiall.’
At the back of the fortress was an area that was separated from the rest of the palace buildings by a high wall through which only someone with authority or special permission could enter. It was know by the ancient name Duma na nGiall – the mound of hostages. Nobles who had been taken prisoner in battle, who would not give their gell, their word of honour, not to escape, were imprisoned there. Until recently it was where the Uí Fidgente chieftains had been held until the peace with the new Uí Fidgente prince Donennach was concluded.
‘Has my brother been informed of this?’
Caol nodded quickly. ‘I explained the circumstances. The king said that he would inform Blathmac of Ulaidh because Drón was theoretically under his protection. Colgú does not want any arguments to arise . . .’
Fidelma held up her hand, nodding.
‘. . . over such a sensitive matter,’ she concluded. ‘He is punctilious.’
‘But Colgú agreed to allow Drón’s incarceration until your return.’
‘So Brother Drón is still incarcerated in the Duma na nGiall?’
‘He is.’
‘Good. I will see my brother before I have a long talk with Brother Drón.’
She turned to Eadulf as they began to walk back across the courtyard to the main buildings.
‘Find Pecanum and Naovan in the hostel for the male religious in the town. Tell them gently what has happened to their father. Take Gormán and two spare horses with you and go to Ardane, as we have agreed. Explain to Miach that he should do all he can to help Brother Berrihert and his brothers with their burial of their father. They must be allowed to do it in the manner they think fit. Say it is my wish.’
‘I will. But what of you? This means I shall not be back before tomorrow morning at the earliest. You promised the High King that you would tell him tonight who killed Ultán and Muirchertach.’
Fidelma gave him a reassuring look. ‘I promised only to tell him whether I was in a position to have a hearing before the Chief Brehon. I think I can do that now. Don’t worry, I shall not be bringing this matter to a conclusion before your return. We need all the suspects to be brought together here before that can happen. So make sure that you return safely with Brother Berrihert and his brothers.’
Colgú was actually with Blathmac when Fidelma was shown into her brother’s chambers. The king of Ulaidh looked up with a frown.
‘You are placing a heavy burden on me, lady,’ he greeted her sourly.
Fidelma took a seat before the fire.
‘What burden would that be, Blathmac?’ she inquired innocently.
‘The incarceration of Brother Drón of Cill Ria.’
‘Why would that be a burden?’ she asked as she warmed herself at the flames.
‘Whatever has happened here, lady, and however Ultán and Drón have been regarded, they were still the emissaries of Ségéne, abbot of Ard Macha, and, moreover, the Comarb of the Blessed Patrick. It is to Ségéne that I have to justify these events. Even if the southern kingdoms do not regard him as the senior bishop in the five kingdoms, we in the northern kingdoms do so. Abbot Ségéne can be a powerful friend and a powerful enemy. Remember that I am king of Ulaidh and if I am not seen to be protecting the interests of my people – all my people, the good and the bad – then my position will be questioned.’
Colgú was anxious to placate his fellow king. ‘We understand that, Blathmac.’ He glanced at his sister. ‘Fidelma, is there a good reason to hold Brother Drón in such a manner?’
‘I am afraid so. Caol has undoubtedly informed you of the facts?’
‘He has, and I have explained them to Blathmac.’
‘I simply require him to be held long enough for me to question him,’ Fidelma explained.
‘You are no longer suggesting that he killed Muirchertach?’ inquired Blathmac.
‘I have long ago learned to refrain from speculation until I know all the facts. I know that he has taken a curious interest in one of the Cill Ria group – Sister Marga. I want to know why, and until I have put these questions to him I cannot allow him to range across the country at will, which is what he is intent on doing. Do you know anything about him, Blathmac?’
The Ulaidh king made a negative gesture.
‘I try to avoid having anything to do with the abbey of Cill Ria,’ he confessed. ‘You have doubtless talked to my cousin Fergus Fanat on that subject, since he had some i
nterest there. But Abbot Ultán was not a person I favoured. God forbid, but I think the judgement of the wind and waves was wrong on the day that he was washed back to shore and claimed conversion to the Faith.’
‘Did you believe that conversion was not genuine?’
‘Whether I did or not, the Comarb of Patrick thought it was and welcomed Ultán into his circle of friends and senior clerics. And Drón, as you may know, was trained at Ard Macha and sent as a scribe to Ultán. What I am saying is that Abbot Ultán and Brother Drón have powerful friends at Ard Macha. So we must walk softly in their shadows. Even a king such as I has to be careful.’
‘I understand,’ Fidelma said. ‘I will ensure that Drón is held no longer than is necessary. In fact, I came only to reinforce what Caol has told you before I go to question him.’
‘You have my gratitude, lady,’ Blathmac acknowledged. ‘I hope this whole matter will come to a speedy conclusion.’
Fidelma left them and went to find Caol before making her way to the back of the palace complex and the gates of the area separated from the rest of the buildings by a high wall.
The same wiry little man that Fidelma had already encountered during the release of the Uí Fidgente prisoners was still the giallchométaide, or chief jailer. Fidelma found that she still did not trust him but put it down to his unfortunate ferret features: the close-set eyes, thin lips and ready smile. However, it did not signify whether she liked the jailer or not, provided he was efficient in his job.
He unlocked the gate at their approach, smiling and bobbing his head in obeisance.
‘Welcome, lady, welcome, commander. How may I serve you?’
‘We have come to question Brother Drón whom you hold here,’ Fidelma replied, trying to hide her irritation at the man’s ingratiating behaviour.
‘Brother Drón?’ The man’s smile suddenly seemed fixed and he echoed the name as if it had no meaning.
‘I do not have much time,’ she said tersely. ‘Come, take me to him.’
The jailer looked at her and now dismay was registering on his face. ‘But, lady, your brother the king ordered Brother Drón’s release an hour ago.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Fidelma’s brows drew together in anger as she stared at the jailer’s bewildered features. ‘Don’t be silly, man! I have just come from my brother, and am here to question the prisoner.’
The man’s face was pale. ‘But . . . but . . .’
Fidelma was impatient. ‘Take me to the prisoner immediately.’
‘But I tell you the truth, lady,’ replied the dismayed jailer. ‘I released Brother Drón over an hour ago. The Brehon Ninnid ordered his release in the name of King Colgú.’
Fidelma stared aghast at the man. ‘Brehon Ninnid did what?’
‘He ordered the immediate release of Brother Drón,’ the man repeated helplessly.
Fidelma was already turning to Caol and issuing curt orders. ‘Find out whether Brother Drón is still in the fortress. I suspect he is probably gone by now. Seek out Brehon Ninnid. If you find him, bring him to Colgú’s chamber at once – bring him under duress if necessary. If you see the Brehon Barrán ask him to come there straight away. I have never . . .’ She was shaking her head in disbelief even as Caol hurried off on his errands.
Fidelma erupted into her brother’s chamber in the violence of anger. Colgú was alone and started up in surprise as his sister burst in.
‘Brother Drón has been released in your name!’ she thundered before he could speak.
Colgú looked at her in bemusement. ‘But you know I did not order . . .’ he began, but Fidelma interrupted.
‘It was Ninnid. He dared to go to the jail and order Drón’s release in your name.’
At that moment Chief Brehon Barrán entered behind her. ‘What has happened?’ he demanded. ‘I was asked by the commander of your guard to come here with all despatch. Is something wrong?’
Colgú had realised the seriousness of the situation and assumed a steely glint in his eyes that matched his sister’s.
‘Brother Drón was being held in the jail here under my authority, with the knowledge of Blathmac of Ulaidh. My sister tells me that Brehon Ninnid of Laigin has ordered his release in my name without my knowledge nor permission. He must answer for this.’
Even Brehon Barrán appeared momentarily shocked at this news, but his surprise was tempered with curiosity. ‘What had Brother Drón done to deserve being incarcerated in the first place?’
Fidelma swiftly sketched in why she had agreed to Caol’s taking the unusual step of keeping Brother Drón secured. She had barely finished speaking when Caol himself entered.
‘Brother Drón has, indeed, left the fortress,’ he said quickly. ‘So has Brehon Ninnid. Using the brehon’s authority, they took their horses from the stables and rode off.’
‘Is it known what direction they took?’
Caol shrugged eloquently. ‘They were last seen riding down into the township. After that, who knows? I have sent men to see if they can find anyone who can tell us.’
Brehon Barrán’s countenance was bleak. ‘I have no understanding of Ninnid’s actions, except they are of great affront to you, Colgú. First, we must try to repair the damage,’ he said firmly, turning to Fidelma. ‘Are you saying that Brother Drón is guilty of one or other of these murders?’
‘He is an important witness,’ Fidelma replied. ‘Something links him to Sister Marga and that is the mystery I must elucidate. It is a mystery that apparently makes it imperative that he control her movements. What it is, I was hoping to find out by questioning him. I suspect that Marga’s life is in danger now.’
‘I was told that Sister Marga had fled during the night after there was an attack on the Ulaidh warrior, Fergus Fanat.’
‘Another matter that needs clarification,’ Fidelma said. ‘Marga did leave here and Drón attempted to follow her. As it was, it was on a false trail.’
She quickly told the Chief Brehon what had happened at Patrick’s Well. Brehon Barrán looked puzzled. ‘It sounds a complicated story.’
‘Due to Ninnid’s intervention, Drón has eluded me. I think he will now try to track down Sister Marga.’
‘Track?’ Colgú turned abruptly to Caol. ‘Who is the best tracker we have?’ he asked.
Caol had no hesitation. ‘Rónán.’
‘Of course.’ Colgú smiled briefly. ‘Fetch him to me. The only thing we can do is attempt to trace Drón’s tracks and see where he is heading.’
Caol was just leaving when one of his warriors halted him in the doorway and whispered something. The commander turned back with a grim smile.
‘Brehon Ninnid has just returned to the fortress. My men have brought him hither protesting innocence of any wrongdoing.’
Colgú turned to Fidelma in grim satisfaction. ‘Now, perhaps, we shall learn the answers to some of our questions.’ He glanced at Barrán. ‘As Chief Brehon of the Five Kingdoms, you must give authority to this matter.’
Brehon Barren’s features were stern. ‘I will conduct the questioning myself, for Brehon Ninnid’s actions are without support in law.’
Fidelma went to sit by her brother while Brehon Barrán took up a stance before the fireplace with his hands clasped behind his back. Colgú nodded to Caol, who stood aside and motioned to someone in the adjoining antechamber.
Brehon Ninnid entered the room, red-faced and angry, followed by Enda, whose hand was clasped on the hilt of his sword.
‘You can fetch Rónán now,’ Colgú told Caol, ‘and wait with him in the adjoining chamber until we are ready.’
As the door closed, Brehon Ninnid took a pace forward. His features showed his hostility. Then his eyes widened with surprise when he saw the grim face of Brehon Barrán.
‘I am glad you are here,’ he said, recovering his poise. ‘I have been treated with the utmost discourtesy. This warrior almost hauled me off my horse as I rode back from the township just now. He marched me here under threat of physical
force. He dared to use me thus in spite of the fact that I am a brehon. This is outrageous!’
Brehon, Barrán waited calmly until Ninnid stopped speaking.
‘So you have no idea of any reason why you should be asked to come here?’ he asked softly.
‘None that demands such discourteous treatment,’ snapped Ninnid.
Brehon Barrán raised an eyebrow. ‘Not even that you abused your authority to help a prisoner to escape?’ His voice was still gentle.
‘Help a prisoner . . . ?’ Brehon Ninnid began angrily, and then his expression changed slightly. ‘Ridiculous. I presume that you refer to Brother Drón? He was unjustifiably incarcerated by a warrior and I merely released him.’
Brehon Barrán’s expression did not change but his tone hardened. ‘You are in the palace of Colgú, king of Muman, and the release of prisoners from the Duma na nGiall can only be made in his name. Did you tell the jailer that the release was ordered in the name of Colgú?’
Brehon Ninnid frowned. ‘I probably implied it . . . but I am a brehon. It is my right and duty to correct injustice and it was obvious that the warrior had gone too far.’
‘How do you know this, Brehon Ninnid? Who told you that Brother Drón had been jailed in the first place?’
‘Someone saw him being marched there and I went to investigate. I demanded to speak to the prisoner in my capacity as a brehon.’
‘So how did you learn the details of why Brother Drón was jailed and decide that it was an injustice?’ pressed the Chief Brehon.
‘It was simple enough to decide. Brother Drón told me.’
A Prayer for the Damned Page 28
