Peter Tremayne - The Devil's seal

‘That was long ago.’

‘Not so long that it has passed from memory. But there is good fishing here. Good hunting, too.’

Egric was suddenly looking thoughtful. ‘You are right, brother. Maybe I should take time to relax.’

‘That’s the spirit.’ Eadulf leaned forward and patted his brother’s shoulder approvingly. ‘You’ve had a bad time. Once we find out what the Venerable Verax wants, things should feel a lot easier.’

He turned. Raising a hand to Rumann, and to Dego and the others, he left the tavern.

Arriving back in the palace, Eadulf went to their chambers to see if Fidelma was there. Muirgen was actually tidying up while Alchú sat watching her.

‘Hello, little hound,’ Eadulf greeted him as he came in.

The boy looked up and peered around Eadulf as if expecting someone to be behind him.

‘Where is that strange man, athair ?’ he asked.

‘Strange man?’ Eadulf was puzzled.

‘He means your brother,’ Muirgen offered sheepishly pausing from her work.

‘That is no strange man, little hound.’ Eadulf shook his head reprovingly. ‘That is Egric, your uncle.’

The little boy pouted. ‘I don’t like him.’

Eadulf sat down opposite his son with a strained smile. ‘So what makes you not like your uncle?’

The child stared intently at his hands then mumbled: ‘I don’t know. I just don’t like him.’

Eadulf wondered how best to deal with the situation.

‘You must have some reason,’ he said gently. ‘Why, you don’t even know him. Tell me, what do you feel about your uncle?’

The little boy did not respond but stared stubbornly down, not meeting his father’s eyes.

Eadulf raised his eyes in a helpless gesture to Muirgen. She motioned him with her head to come to the far side of the chamber and then spoke quietly.

‘He seemed strangely silent after you had introduced your brother to him this morning. Some children — indeed, most children — have an intuitive feeling for certain things. To ask them to explain those feelings by means of logic is futile.’

‘I have great respect for your abilities as a nurse, Muirgen. Indeed, that is why we brought you and your husband, Nessan, all the way from Sliabh Mís to look after our son. But I have no understanding of this.’

‘Well, a child will suddenly say they don’t like eggs, or some other food. You ask them why, and often they can’t explain. The same goes with people. Sometimes, someone will come along and you will take an instant dislike to them. Why? You, being older and more mature, might try to find reasons but usually you fall back on instinct.’

‘So you say I shouldn’t force Algú to like him?’

‘What I say is that it will be up to your brother to win the boy over.’

Eadulf grimaced. ‘Easier said than done. Alas, Egric doesn’t seem to have a way with children.’

‘Well, from what I have picked up from gossip, he might be finding it hard to be open with people here at the moment. Having survived an attack, his companion killed, he finds himself a stranger in a strange land. Whom can he trust? No wonder he is awkward with everyone, not just our Alchú.’

Eadulf stared at the nurse for a moment, surprised at her understanding. ‘I swear that you would make a good philosopher, Muirgen.’

She chuckled. ‘Why, sir, I was raised in a family of country folk. Being close to nature, we are closer to all living creatures than most people who are raised in townships. Your brother keeps his thoughts and emotions to himself. That is all.’

‘So you advise me to let matters take their natural course?’

‘Yes, that is my advice.’

‘And not try to challenge or correct the boy?’

‘Exactly so.’

‘So be it,’ agreed Eadulf. Then: ‘Have you seen Fidelma? It must be nearly time for the eter-shod .’

The eter-shod was the midday meal.

‘There is food prepared in the adjacent chamber and the lady Fidelma has said she would return for it after she had finished speaking with her brother.’

‘Is there a place laid for Egric?’

‘Naturally.’ Muirgen seemed slightly offended and Eadulf apologised immediately.

But Egric did not return to eat with them. Fidelma and Eadulf made no mention of the fact in front of Alchú as they ate the light meal which was usual at this time of day. Only after they had finished and Muirgen had removed the boy did Fidelma broach the subject. Eadulf described the stilted encounter between their son and his uncle, and then spoke of Alchú’s dislike and Muirgen’s views on the situation.

Fidelma sighed absently and asked: ‘Egric knew he was to eat with us?’

‘He did.’

‘Perhaps you had better check on him. I want to have a further word with Brother Conchobhar.’

Eadulf did not really want to return to Rumann’s tavern to remonstrate with his brother for not joining them for the midday meal. He was sure that Egric would resent the fact. However, as he made his way down to the courtyard he saw Gormán, and some instinct made him ask if the guard commander had seen Egric return to the palace.

‘I think he is still in Rumann’s tavern, friend Eadulf. I was on my way back from my mother’s place and had cause to have a word with Rumann. He and Dego were still in there. They are as thick as thieves and talking about fishing or something.’

Eadulf said in bewilderment, ‘I am surprised he is so interested that he has forgotten to come back for his meal.’

They were interrupted by a shout. It was from Enda, who was on watch-duty in the tower above the gate. ‘Riders!’

‘From the east?’ called Gormán, having been warned to watch for the arrival of Bishop Arwald’s deputation.

‘No, from the south. Six men — four look like warriors. One of them carries a banner.’

‘Whose banner?’ demanded Gormán.

‘I can’t see it from here. They are crossing through the township and making for the palace.’

‘Sing out when you can identify the banner,’ Gormán replied, turning back to Eadulf. ‘Well, at least they don’t appear to be the visitors that the King expects. I have some men placed on the hill to the east, so they should give us ample warning of their approach.’

‘There is certainly a lot of tension about their coming.’

Gormán was in agreement. ‘To be honest, friend Eadulf, some people are a little unnerved by the pronouncements of Deogaire.’

‘Evil from the east?’ Eadulf feigned a laugh. It sounded hollow and he knew it. ‘I would take little notice of that.’

‘I am not personally concerned,’ replied the warrior, ‘but there are others who cleave to the old superstitions.’

‘The riders are approaching!’ Enda called down. ‘I can see the banner now. . yes, it’s that of Cummasach.’

Gormán whistled softly. ‘Whatever brings the Prince of the Déisi to Cashel? That’s a rare occurrence.’

‘Wouldn’t it be because of the attack on my brother and his companion?’ Eadulf asked, coming to the logical conclusion.

The warrior clicked his tongue in annoyance. ‘Of course, that must be it! But even an event like that makes it unusual to get the Prince of the Déisi to stir himself north of the Siúr. They have a strange history, these Déisi.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Time was when they were a wealthy and powerful people, living in the fertile lands of Midhe — the Middle Kingdom. Legend has it that an argument broke out and their chieftain cast a spear at the High King and took out his eye. The Brehons met and decided that one half of the Déisi, under that Prince, Aonghus of the Terrible Spear, should be banished across the water to the east. They settled and created a kingdom called Dyfed. The other half of the Déisi were sent south where the King of Cashel allowed them to settle south of the great River Siúr.’