Peter Tremayne - The Seventh Trumpet

Gelgéis immediately confirmed it.

‘Ailgesach promised her that he would try to get some proof of the conspiracy and find out what was behind it,’ Fidelma went on. ‘Unfortunately, he did not name Étain — and only at the last moment mentioned Bran Finn. He arranged with the latter to get that proof and bring it to him, at the same time arranging for me and Tormeid to meet with Bran Finn at his chapel. We were there at the appointed time but Bran Finn did not appear.’

‘That is because he was already dead,’ Eadulf told them. ‘It was his body that Tóla found at the stream bordering his farm. The fellow was killed on his way to the rendezvous.’

‘But I thought the body bore the emblem of the Uí Máil, the Kings of Laigin?’ Colgú frowned.

‘That was part of the proof to show the alleged involvement of Laigin. It was what was inside that brooch that was the real evidence,’ Fidelma said. ‘But whoever killed Bran Finn had removed the paper inside the brooch yet neglected to take the evidence of the brooch itself.’

‘So Fianamail was waiting to hear that Cronán and Étain were rampaging through the kingdom,’ Colgú said. ‘Then he would use the excuse to enter the kingdom to stop civil strife. But Étain has been captured and Cronán must soon surrender or be destroyed.’

Gelgéis sighed deeply. ‘So close and yet so far.’ There were frowns from several who had gathered there. ‘If Bran Finn had reached us, he would have brought proof of the conspiracy and told us who was involved. We waited in vain at Ailgesach’s place. When he did not appear, I returned here to Durlus. Tormeid decided to go to the river, intent on travelling to Imleach or the Glen of Lunatics to see what he could discover about Bran Finn.’

There was a silence for a while.

‘There is one thing that mystifies me,’ Abbot Ségdae said slowly.

‘Only one thing?’ Fidelma smiled.

‘We know that Étain suffered from extreme religious zeal. I can accept that was what inspired her madness, sent her riding forth to murder and pillage under the banners we have seen. Are we to understand that Cronán, who has declared himself to be an abbot, is similarly cursed?’

‘His purpose and that of Étain, his cousin, were not the same,’ explained Fidelma. ‘He was simply prepared to allow her to be the distraction in the west of the country. True, he had his warriors carry out some similar raids under religious banners against the Uí Duach. That was in order to fool people into thinking it was all part of a general unrest to provide the excuse for Fianamail. But Cronán’s goal was power. Power and pure avarice. He was waiting until he knew the warriors of Laigin were gathered on the border before he unleashed his main assault. His belief was that the conflict would bring Laigin in on his side and precipitate him to power.’

Colgú shook his head with a smile. ‘For the first time there is a flaw in your argument, Fidelma. You have overlooked the most important point, sister. Cronán is no Eóghanacht. As powerful as the Laigin men could make him, he would never be able to claim the throne of Muman as a legitimate King. The derbhfine of the Eóghanacht have to make that choice according to law, not only from the most worthy to govern — the best able, if you like — but also from the bloodline. Cronán is of the Osraige. He is not of the Eóghanacht bloodline. Anyway, he is answerable to Tuaim Snámha, the Prince of Osraige.’

Brehon Áedo was puzzled. ‘This is complex. Are you saying that Tuaim Snámha is involved?’

‘I cannot prove that, but I suspect that he is not. I believe that Cronán’s conspiracy with Fianamail of Laigin would be that Tuaim Snámha would be displaced and that Cronán would be made ruler of Osraige.’

‘Then what of Muman?’ demanded the Brehon. ‘If this conspiracy was to overthrow Colgú, surely that means there is someone else involved?’ His eyes widened. ‘There is only one who can succeed in Cashel. Finguine, son of Cathal Cú-cen-máthair, your tánaiste , your heir apparent. He is of the bloodline. And he has been left safe in Cashel with an army at his command.’

All eyes turned to Fidelma. ‘Finguine is-’

She was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door and when Spealáin opened it, they could hear Caol’s voice outside whispering urgently. Spealáin turned back into the room with a shocked expression. He seemed unable to articulate for a moment and Colgú looked to Caol, who stood framed in the door behind the steward’s shoulder.

‘What is it, man?’ he demanded testily.

The commander of his bodyguard took a quick step into the room, glancing round awkwardly.

‘The guard I left outside the prisoner’s room — one of the Éile warriors — has been killed. The Lady Étain has escaped. She is nowhere to be found.’

Fidelma and Eadulf entered the chamber where they had recently tried to question Étain of An Dún. Outside, in the passageway, the body of the warrior who had been left on guard lay in a crumpled and bloody heap. It looked as if he had been stabbed several times in the neck and chest in a frenzied attack. Inside the chamber, the bonds that had secured the woman lay scattered around. Eadulf gave them a cursory glance.

‘Someone has released her from those chains,’ he said, stating the obvious.

Caol and Gormán had entered behind them with the agitated Spealáin.

‘Cathchern was a good warrior,’ the steward grieved. ‘He would never have allowed a stranger to approach and strike him without even attempting to draw his weapon.’

‘That is the only explanation,’ agreed Eadulf. ‘Whoever killed him and released the prisoner was known and trusted by him.’

‘Then there is a traitor here.’ Gormán’s expression was grim. ‘It could be anyone of the Éile.’

‘There are no traitors among the Éile,’ snapped Spealáin.

‘You have every right to protest,’ agreed Eadulf calmly, ‘but we must consider logic. The guard was attacked by someone he knew, or whose rank he had to respect.’

‘We can discuss this later,’ Fidelma said. ‘It is more urgent to find where Étain of An Dún is hiding and who is hiding her. Now she is free, in her current state of mind, she will doubtless be bent on vengeance.’

‘There is one point to consider,’ Eadulf said quietly.

‘Which is?’

‘You know how her mind was when we saw her … well, the person who released her had the ability to do so without her raving or crying out and alarming anyone. That person was well known to her, able to quieten her.’

‘A good point, Eadulf.’ Fidelma turned to Caol. ‘I want you to go to my brother and persuade him to return to the chamber Gelgéis has allotted him and await the outcome of our search for Étain. Do not leave his side, even if he tries to insist. Do not leave him alone until I say otherwise.’

Caol hurried off while Fidelma turned to the steward.

‘Spealáin, you must alert Gelgéis and the guards. There must be a detailed search of the fortress for this woman and anyone else behaving suspiciously.’

‘Are you sure you can trust me and the guards of Durlus?’ the man said bitterly.

Fidelma answered with a thin smile. ‘Trust must be earned, Spealáin,’ she replied. ‘I suggest you set about earning it.’

He bit his lip and then hastened after Caol.

‘Do you think Étain is going to attempt to assassinate the King?’ asked Gormán anxiously.

‘She is crazy enough to try,’ Eadulf said heavily. ‘With the way her mind is working, I do not think she would even be able to find her way to the King on her own and do the deed.’

‘That’s just it,’ Fidelma interrupted. ‘She is not capable on her own. Someone has released her and may even now be leading her to my brother.’