Peter Tremayne - The Devil's seal

‘Not at all,’ Deogaire replied. ‘I told my story to Beccan earlier this evening. He said that not all the guest chambers were filled this night and that if I told no one, I could have the use of one.’

‘So you blame Beccan, do you?’ Gormán looked to Colgú and said: ‘We are wasting our time, lord. It is clear that he did the deed and was hiding out, thinking we would not search all the rooms.’

Deogaire glanced round. ‘Where was I supposed to have made this attempt on the lady Fidelma’s life?’ he demanded.

‘A marble statue was pushed from the roof as Fidelma and Eadulf passed below. The culprit escaped through the door leading to the guest chambers, throwing the bolt behind him. There was, however, no way of getting from those chambers anywhere else because of the guards. We have accounted for all the known guests. So it seems that Enda was right to constrain anyone who had no authority to be in those chambers,’ Gormán explained.

For the first time Deogaire seemed to appreciate the gravity of his situation.

‘I have told you the truth,’ he insisted, all blustering gone now. ‘Ask Beccan. I met him at the side door of the building that leads to the storerooms. He took me up the stairs and showed me into an empty chamber while everyone was in the feasting hall. He told me that I could rest there, but warned me that there was a guard who would be posted during the hours of darkness. He advised me not to emerge until after daylight, when I could hear movement.’

‘Then it is a pity that Beccan is not here to corroborate your story,’ Eadulf observed dryly.

‘Not here?’ An expression of apprehension crossed Deogaire’s features. ‘Where is he? He said he would not be long.’

‘Tell me, how is it that Brother Conchobhar came to throw his own relative out of his house?’ Fidelma asked without answering him. ‘He is a great respecter of old custom and holds that the laws of hospitality, especially to a blood relative, are not easily dismissed.’

Deogaire had lost more of his confidence by now.

‘You know that he and I do not see eye to eye on matters of religion,’ he muttered. ‘I maintain the old paths while he accepts this new mysticism from the east. It is not to be trusted! The ancients say — knowledge is found in the west, battle to the north, danger to the east and tranquillity to the south. Danger to the east! That danger is coming.’

‘You threatened me once,’ she replied, recalling. ‘You said: “two glances behind would be better than one before”.’

‘A warning to some is seen as a threat by others. I foresee the danger from the east. That is no threat — that is a warning. Be afraid and you will be safe. That was all I said.’

Fidelma grimaced at the old saying. ‘I am aware of what was said. You also mentioned that death could come in many forms — even a winged demon out of the sky.’

Eadulf breathed in sharply. ‘And the statue was. .’ he began.

‘Was it the statue of Aoife?’ Colgú asked in a curiously strangled tone, his features suddenly pale.

When Fidelma silently nodded, there was an obvious unease among those present.

‘Aoife? Who was she?’ asked Eadulf, knowing there was some significance that was lost on him.

‘Aoife was a wicked stepmother, and in punishment for her evil acts against the Children of Lir, the god Bodh Dearg changed her into a demon of the air.’ It was Gormán who explained. ‘The statues on the roof are representations of creatures from our ancient legends.’

Deogaire’s eyes had widened slightly. Then he quickly recovered his poise. His chin thrust out defiantly. ‘And what does that prove? The only thing it shows is that I am truly blessed with the gift of the imbas forosnai , of the prophecy of the poets.’

Fidelma reflected for a moment, then said: ‘Foreknowledge of events is usually explained by involvement. I am no seer, as you claim to be, Deogaire. I have to rely on facts and logic. That is the beginning of my wisdom.’ She looked at him before continuing.

‘Your claim to be in the guests chambers by invitation of Beccan cannot be confirmed until the King’s steward returns. Do not worry, we will not condemn without seeking evidence. That is not our way. While we wait for his return, we will provide you with another bed for the rest of this night.’ She turned to Gormán. ‘Take Deogaire to the Laochtech and secure him there as a prisoner until I order otherwise. It will go badly for you, Deogaire, if you do not leave peacefully with these warriors.’

The young man looked anxious. ‘The last person who was secured there was found hanged — and not by his own hand,’ he protested.

‘Do not be concerned,’ Fidelma replied. ‘You will be placed in one of the rooms within the Laochtech and a warrior will be within call at all times. You will see to that, Gormán,’ she added.

‘It shall be done, lady.’ The warrior touched Deogaire on the shoulder. ‘Are you going to cause trouble, or will you come with us peacefully?’

Deogaire, still rubbing his wrists, sighed and said, ‘Peacefully, by all means, let us proceed peacefully.’

After Gormán had left with Aidan and the prisoner, Fidelma slumped uninvited into a chair.

‘I don’t suppose you have some corma left, brother?’ she smiled faintly.

Colgú poured the fiery alcoholic drink for her before indicating that they should all be seated and take a drink. Everyone seemed shocked at the events of the evening. Only Brehon Aillín excused himself, somewhat stiffly, and retired to his chamber.

‘So Deogaire is the guilty one?’ Abbot Ségdae phrased the question with an air of satisfaction. ‘Guilty of the other deaths as well. . you think? And why? To have his prophecy fulfilled, no doubt.’

Fidelma stared, preoccupied, into her drink before telling them: ‘I am not sure of his guilt.’

Everyone looked at her in surprise.

‘Not sure that he is guilty of the other deaths?’ Eadulf asked.

‘It all sounds a little too plausible,’ she replied.

‘Sometimes things are simple and straightforward. Not everything is as complicated as many would have us believe,’ pointed out her brother.

‘It’s true. And yet let us bear in mind what has happened here during the last few days. Is it so easy to say that Deogaire was guilty of Brother Cerdic’s death? That he hanged Rudgal? Then what of the attack on the river and the-’ She stopped suddenly, realising that she was about to say too much. The cloth that Rudgal had hidden had to remain secret for the time being. Yet Brother Conchobhar knew of it. . did that mean that Deogaire knew of it too? She turned her gaze to Eadulf, hoping he would pick up the warning message from her eyes, without her having to speak it.

‘What now?’ Eadulf asked. ‘Do we wait until Beccan comes back?’

Gormán had just returned to report that the prisoner was now locked up and under guard, and overheard him.

‘I could go down to the township myself and search him out, if I knew where this sick relative lived,’ he offered. He looked to the King. ‘Does anyone know where his relative is to be found?’

Colgú turned to him, puzzled. ‘You mean, Beccan’s relative is not known here? But everyone knows who lives in the township of Cashel. There are surely no strangers here.’

‘I have never heard Beccan speak of having a family member living nearby,’ confirmed Gormán, ‘but my mother knows everyone. It should be easy to find him.’

‘While we wait for his return, I will have a word with Brother Conchobhar,’ Fidelma said. ‘At least that will confirm whether it is true that he threw Deogaire out.’

Abbot Ségdae emptied his goblet and set it down with a disapproving look. ‘I would have thought Deogaire’s guilt is clear. I don’t understand you wanting further proof, Fidelma.’