Peter Tremayne - The Devil's seal

Fidelma made a sympathetic sound with her tongue. ‘Unfortunately, today you are needed in the palace. If only it were otherwise, because I would advise my brother to send you back to look after Maon for the next few days. However, I shall ensure that Brother Conchobhar visits her.’

It was Dar Luga, working nearby, who coughed to attract attention. ‘I know the cabin beyond the Road of Rocks, lady. It is not far from Della’s place.’

‘Della would welcome the opportunity to help her,’ Eadulf added.

‘I came by there a few days ago, after visiting my sister Lassar, Ferloga’s wife, at Rath na Drinne,’ went on Dar Luga. ‘I was wondering why there were signs of occupation at that old cabin.’ She shook her head disapprovingly at Beccan. ‘It is not exactly in suitable condition for someone suffering from the fever. You should bring the poor girl to the palace; there is room for a bed among the attendants’ quarters. Strange though. .’ She paused as if at a sudden memory.

‘Strange?’ prompted Fidelma.

Dar Luga glanced at Beccan. ‘You said your friend travelled there on foot, but when I was passing, I thought I saw a horse tethered outside.’

Beccan immediately shook his head. ‘I know nothing of that. Perhaps it was a passing rider who stopped to make enquiries.’

‘Well, no matter,’ Fidelma continued. ‘You may leave the matter in our hands. Thank you for answering our questions.’

Outside, Eadulf was thoughtful. ‘The story is too glib. I find it hard to believe. If it is true, then we have much to ask of Deogaire who tells a contradictory tale.’

‘You are right. However, I shall not press Beccan for the moment,’ Fidelma agreed.

‘We can be sure of one thing at least.’

‘Which is?’

‘We know that Beccan left the palace gates while we were feasting with your brother and did not return until this morning. He was certainly not on the roof when the statue was toppled onto us. So why would he be lying about the other details?’

‘Why, indeed?’ Fidelma said grimly.

They were crossing the courtyard towards the Laochtech . Fidelma suggested they see Deogaire first before going to old Brother Conchobhar’s apothecary and telling him about the sick woman. As they walked, they suddenly heard the sound of a child’s voice blending with the stern tones of a guard at the gate.

Fidelma halted and glanced in the direction of the altercation. A small boy of ten or so was standing defiantly in front of one of the guards who was obviously trying to refuse him admittance.

‘I must see the King’s Brehon!’ the lad yelled.

They did not hear the gruff response of the guard but saw his finger pointing as if to bid the boy to go away.

Fidelma hurried across to the gate followed by Eadulf.

‘What is this?’ she asked.

The warrior straightened and raised a hand in salutation.

‘A boy obviously playing some prank, lady. I’ve told him to clear off.’

Fidelma turned to the sullen-faced child. ‘What is it, boy?’ she asked in a kindly tone.

‘My father says I must see the King’s Brehon.’

‘Your father? I seem to recognise you, lad. Aren’t you Rumann’s son? Why do you need to see the King’s Brehon?’

‘Because. . because. .’ The boy’s brow puckered as if trying to remember some message. ‘Because my father has found a body in his ale-making house.’

Then, seemingly relieved to have delivered this message, he turned and ran off down the hill, back towards the township.

Eadulf exchanged a startled glance with Fidelma. ‘Did you say that he was Rumann’s son?’ he gasped. ‘Rumann the innkeeper?’

Fidelma nodded assent.

Eadulf’s face was suddenly white. ‘But. . my brother! Egric, my brother! It must be his body!’ He turned and was running off down the hill in the wake of the boy.

Fidelma spun around to the startled guard. ‘Tell Gormán of this news and inform him that we shall be at Rumann’s inn.’ Then she, too, was moving rapidly down the hill towards the township. It was some distance but it was pointless waiting while horses were saddled.

Rumann’s inn lay on the far side of the town square. It was a large enough establishment; more substantial than any other set of buildings among the farms and houses that spread themselves under the shadow of the Eóghanacht citadel on the ancient rock towering above it. As well as the bruden or inn itself, with its adjacent accommodation for travellers, there were stables for guests’ horses, grounds beyond for a small group of animals such as pigs and poultry and then, beyond that was land cultivated for various vegetables and fruits. All in all, Rumann’s inn was self-sufficient in many things, not least in the brewing of ale, mead and nenadmin , which was a cider made from crabapples.

At the side of the inn was the small group of buildings where Rumann managed the brewing of the beverages that he sold, for as well as being an innkeeper he was also a scoaire — a professional brewer licensed under the law. According to the law, the most prestigious ale-making houses were accorded ‘lawful’ status, being dligtech or legalised houses. The local Brehon would examine them and give them certification. Other places, which were deemed not lawful, were not penalised — but the important difference was that if the ale produced there was bad, then the inn was forfeited to the local prince and the innkeeper had to pay compensation to all who had drunk the bad ale.

Of course, owners of legal inns and ale-making houses tended to take advantage of their status by charging higher prices, but it was often wiser to pay and feel confident of the quality of the drink consumed. Rumann was proud of the status of his business as a licensed inn and ale-making house. It was his privilege to accommodate those visitors to the King’s palace who could not be found rooms in the royal guest quarters. Indeed, he was now housing the warrior escort from Laighin which had accompanied the Venerable Verax and Bishop Arwald.

As Eadulf and Fidelma hurried across the square to the inn, they noticed the Laighin warriors sitting under a thatched shelter in front of the inn playing dísle — an ancient dice game that was popular among warriors. They seemed preoccupied and it was clear they knew something was amiss as they cast some nervous glances at the newcomers.

Rumann was standing agitatedly in the doorway and came quickly to greet them. As they reached him, he said nothing but motioned them to follow.

‘Who is it?’ demanded Eadulf as he entered the inn hot on Rumann’s heels. ‘Whose body have you discovered?’

The innkeeper half-turned: ‘The fellow is a stranger to me,’ he muttered.

Eadulf actually seized him by the arm, almost swinging him round. ‘Was it Egric? The man who was in here the other day with Dego, the warrior?’

To his relief the innkeeper immediately shook his head. ‘Not him. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him or Dego since they left for the mountains the other day.’

‘Then who is it?’ Eadulf asked, relief making him sound brusque.

Fidelma moved forward to take matters in hand. ‘You had better show us this body then, Rumann,’ she said calmly. ‘Kindly show us where and in what circumstances it was found.’

Rumann led the way through the inn and out of a back door, talking as he did so.

‘We had to cater for the Laighin warriors last night, as well as several others who came for food and drink. So it was not until a short time ago that I and my assistant decided to start the fermenting process of the bracat .’

Bracat was ale fermented from barley or rye but taking its name from bracha , malt.