Peter Tremayne - Dancing With Demons

The thought had also occurred to Fidelma.

‘It is no use speculating when I do not have information,’ she replied airily. ‘It is not beyond the bounds of possibility that Cenn Faelad’s sending for me has been talked about at Tara so that she acquired such knowledge that way.’

‘Well, I have no understanding of half the things that were said,’ Eadulf commented. ‘What or who is a bave ?’

‘ Badb. ’ Fidelma corrected his pronunciation slightly. ‘She was one of three evil goddesses who presided over death and battles, who loved slaughter and bloodshed, and would often sow baneful thoughts to incite people to commit violence against one another.’

Gormán chimed in: ‘And she is often depicted as an old woman washing the skulls of those slain in battle while sitting at a ford — that is why she is also known as the Washer at the Ford.’

‘Except the old one called herself a watcher at the ford,’ corrected Fidelma, with a smile at the young warrior’s nervous features. ‘The demented one was as human as you or I, Gormán.’

The young warrior grimaced. ‘I fear no human, lady. That you know. But …’ He shrugged.

‘Well, I would like to know what all that meant — the cauldron, sword and spear,’ interrupted Eadulf. ‘I have never heard the like.’

Fidelma turned to him with a soft smile. ‘It is the ancient tales, Eadulf. It was said that in the time before Time, the ancient gods and goddesses of Éireann, who were known as the Children of Danú, the Mother Goddess, came from four great mystic cities. They came to this island bringing with them their greatest treasures, one from each of their lost cities. From Falias they brought with them a sacred stone which was called the Lia Fáil, or the stone of destiny; from Gorias they brought with them a mighty sword called “Retaliator”; from Urias they brought with them the “Red Javelin” which, once cast, would seek out its enemies no matter where they hid; and from Murias, they brought a great cauldron — the Cauldron of Plenty — from which no one went away hungry. Those were the great treasures and symbols of the Old Faith.’

She did not mention the old woman’s reference to the Wheel of Destiny, the Roth Fáil, for it was the only thing that worried her by the coincidence of the reference after what Brother Conchobhar had told her.

Caol suddenly broke cover along the bank and came riding back, looking crestfallen.

‘I lost her,’ he confessed. ‘Either that old woman knows these woods really well, or … or she has the ability to vanish.’

Fidelma chuckled. ‘She doubtless knows the secret paths, my friend, but I doubt if she has learned the art of vanishing. Well, a fascinating encounter, Caol, but we cannot delay. We are but a short distance from Tara.’

Eadulf looked around anxiously. ‘Shouldn’t we take what the old one said more seriously? She did after all threaten us.’

‘A threat from someone clearly demented …’ began Fidelma.

‘Is still a threat,’ interrupted Eadulf.

Caol was also looking gloomy. ‘Eadulf is right, lady. We should be on our guard.’

‘I would hope that is exactly what you are about, you and Gormán,’ Fidelma said airily. ‘As bodyguards and my brother’s elite warriors, you should always be attentive to danger. Come, let’s not delay further.’

When their presence at the gates of the royal enclosure was announced, it was Abbot Colmán, the spiritual adviser to the Airlechas or Great Assembly of the High King, who emerged to greet them. He was a thickset, ruddy-faced man in his late fifties. As Fidelma dismounted from her horse, he came forward with both hands outstretched, as if greeting an old friend, but behind his welcoming smile, his features wore an expression of anxiety.

‘Sister Fidelma! It is always good to see you here at Tara. But alas, it is sad that such tragedy brings you hither again.’

He gripped her hands warmly and she returned the greeting with the same warmth. It had been some time since their last meeting, when Fidelma had won the respect of the abbot by her abilities, firstly in solving the riddle of the theft of the High King’s ceremonial sword, and next by discovering the truth that lay behind a haunted tomb in the graveyard of the High Kings. 3

‘You are looking well, Colmán, and I swear that the passing years have not changed you,’ she complimented him.

Colmán assumed a solemn countenance. ‘Vanitas vanitatum, omnia vanitas ,’ he quoted piously. ‘I would like to think so, but alas, my reflection calls me vain if I do.’ Then he turned to greet Eadulf. ‘You are welcome here, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham. We have heard much about you, Brother Saxon. The tales of your deeds with our dear Sister Fidelma are told by the storytellers around many a hearth during these dark winter months.’ Then Colmán greeted Caol and Gormán in turn as Fidelma introduced them.

‘The hospitality of Tara is yours,’ he said with a gesture that encompassed them all, before adding significantly, ‘Such hospitality as can be obtained in this troubled time.’

‘What is the situation here?’ asked Fidelma, as Abbot Colmán signalled to the waiting gilla scuir , stable lads, to take their horses and remove their saddlebags.

‘It is best that Cenn Faelad tells you directly,’ the abbot said. ‘He desires to see you. However, the rituals of hospitality must first be observed. Rooms have been prepared in the guests’ hostel and orders already given for water to be heated. Come, I will show you to where you may refresh yourselves.’

Fidelma fell in step beside Colmán while Eadulf and the others followed. Caol and Gormán had taken the saddlebags from the stable lads and kept close behind Fidelma and Eadulf.

‘Who knew that I had been sent for, aside from the Great Assembly?’ asked Fidelma.

Abbot Colmán glanced at her, surprised by her question. ‘It was no secret. All the members of the Great Assembly who met to debate the situation after the death of Sechnussach knew it and there has been talk of little else. Why do you ask?’

‘I just wondered. It’s of no consequence,’ she replied. ‘I presume that the obsequies have been conducted for Sechnussach?’

‘He rests among his predecessors and ancestors in the compound of royal graves,’ replied the abbot, a trifle unctuously. ‘It was not possible to wait for all the cóicedach, the kings of the five kingdoms, and their nobles to attend the ceremonies. However, it is the intention of Cenn Faelad to invite all the kings and nobles to a memorial feast once the investigation into his brother’s death has produced its findings.’ He added with emphasis, as if it needed explanation, ‘Your investigation, Fidelma, and your findings.’

‘Sechnussach was a great king and a generous man,’ Fidelma observed softly. ‘I hope Cenn Faelad stands in likeness to his brother.’

‘A wise sentiment and heartily echoed, Fidelma,’ agreed the abbot. ‘I have known him many years and I think the five kingdoms will notice little change, for he and his brother agreed on most things.’

‘And when will be Cenn Faelad’s inauguration as High King? That will certainly need the presence of the cóicedach. ’

The worried look on the abbot’s face deepened.

‘It has been decided, on the advice of the Great Assembly, that there must be a delay before Cenn Faelad can take the sword of the High Kings in his hand and place his foot on the Lia Fail to proclaim his accession.’

‘The Lia Fail ?’ queried Eadulf, remembering what the old woman had said at the river crossing.