Peter Tremayne - Dancing With Demons

‘Exactly so.’ She turned and approached the solitary guard who remained outside the royal residence. ‘Where is Irél, your commander?’

The man drew himself up respectfully. ‘I think he may be at the stables, lady.’

Fidelma thanked him and gestured to Eadulf. Once again, the couple set off across the royal enclosure, with Caol and Gormán trailing behind.

Irél, the commander of the Fianna, was indeed at the stables. He turned as they approached.

‘You want me again, lady?’ He saluted as they came up.

‘Do you know where your man Cuan is?’

Irél shook his head. ‘You need to question him again?’

‘I do. Can you make a search for him and hold him securely until I am sent for?’

Irél looked surprised. ‘Hold him? Why is that necessary, lady?’

‘Because a dálaigh says it is necessary,’ she replied impatiently.

Irél flushed. ‘It shall be as you order, of course.’ His tone indicated his sense of pique.

Fidelma immediately regretted her curtness. ‘I apologise. As commander you have a right to know. Both Lugna and Cuan have committed a grave disregard of their duty. I have spoken with Lugna and told him to confinehimself to his quarters and await a hearing. After that, it will be up to you, as his commander, to decide how to discipline him. I have little knowledge of the law as it applies in the military service.’

Irél was clearly concerned. ‘If it is as serious as that, then loss of rank and fines must follow. Can you give me details?’

‘We will wait for full explanations until I sum up my findings. But it is essential that we find Cuan.’

‘I will instigate a search for him at once, lady. It will be as you say.’ Yet he still appeared hesitant.

‘You have something that you wish to tell me, Irél?’

‘Apart from a neglect of duty, is it that you suspect Cuan had some involvement with Dubh Duin?’

‘Exactly that.’.

‘Then you should know that Cuan was originally of the Uí Beccon, a small clan who pay fealty to the Cinél Cairpre Gabra. Their territory is on the northern borders of Cinél Cairpre.’

Only Eadulf, who knew Fidelma’s features well, could see the surprise on her face and knew how well she controlled it.

‘No one told me this,’ she said slowly.

Irél shrugged. ‘The Fianna are recruited from many clans of Midhe and they all take oath to serve the High King. Once they take the oath, any service to their own clans must take second place to that of the High King. It makes no difference where a man comes from. But if you suspect Cuan, it might be wise to know that he was of the Ui Beccon.’

‘Tell me of the Uí Beccon.’

‘Little to tell. They are a small tributary clan in the far north of Midhe next to the lands of Cinél Cairpre. They keep themselves to themselves. I have never known them to create trouble.’

‘And Cuan came to Tara to enlist in the ranks of the Fianna?’

‘We do not take just anyone,’ Irél replied. ‘The men must be warriors of above average ability. Their training is hard. They must prove themselves in physical and mental stamina.’

‘I am well aware of what is demanded from the warrior elite, Irél,’ Fidelma said patiently. ‘You may rest assured that I am interested in Cuan for matters other than his place of origin.’

Fidelma was about to leave the stable when she remembered her previous task.

‘Do you know if the lady Gormflaith has returned from riding?’

Irél nodded immediately. ‘I saw her and her daughter Murgain stable their horses a short time ago. Gormflaith has returned to her residence and her daughter has gone off to play with her friends.’

Fidelma thanked him and turned to Caol and Gormán. ‘I am going to see Gormflaith. Perhaps you can make yourself useful to Irél and help him find Cuan.’

They acknowledged her diplomatic way of dismissing them without comment. Eadulf accompanied Fidelma back towards the residence of Gormflaith.

‘I need to return to the guesthouse,’ he said. ‘I know you desire to see Gormflaith on your own, but should you not summon Abbot Colmán to attend? After all, she is the widow of the High King.’

Fidelma shook her head. ‘The abbot does not need to oversee all our enquiries, and widow of the High King or not, I am a dálaigh who has been given the task to investigate this matter.’

‘You think that this conspiracy will show that there is a link between the assassin Dubh Duin, Gormflaith and Cuan? It seems logical. Now we know that Cuan is from a clan that is in service to the Cinél Cairpre and that Dubh Duin was, therefore, his chieftain …’

‘I think there is a conspiracy,’ Fidelma interrupted, ‘but, as I have said many times, it is no good speculating until …’

Eadulf groaned softly. ‘I know, I know. No speculation before you have gathered all the facts. Even so …’

‘Even so, Eadulf, the rule cannot be broken. I am thinking that there are more facts that we do not know than the ones we do know.’

Eadulf left her and returned to the guesthouse. It seemed deserted, for which he was grateful because he needed to visit the fialtech or privy that was at the back. Having dutifully washed himself — it had taken him many years to adjust to what he saw as the obsession of the people of the country in washing, with their morning ablutions and then a full bath every evening before the main meal — Eadulf was returning through the guest house when a noise caught his ear from the room in which the meals for the guests were prepared. It was suspiciously like someone sobbing.

He paused, pushed open the door and looked in.

It was the plain-looking girl, Cnucha, who sat at the table with her head buried in her arms, clearly weeping.

‘Can I be of any help to you?’ asked Eadulf gently.

Startled, the girl glanced up and Eadulf saw that one of her cheeks was red and starting to bruise. The girl’s eyes were round with fear for a moment, her mouth an almost perfect ‘o’ shape.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he said contritely. ‘What is wrong?’

The girl seemed to recover her wits and sniffed, wiping away her tears. ‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing?’ smiled Eadulf, sitting down. ‘Nothing does not create tears.’

The girl swiftly put her hand up to her cheek as if to hide it and then seemed to realise the futility of the gesture.

‘There is nothing you can do,’ she said in a dull voice. ‘Thank you for asking.’

‘Perhaps I should be the judge of that,’ Eadulf said firmly. ‘A trouble told is a trouble shared, and a trouble shared is … ’

The girl gave him a quivering smile and said, ‘My trouble is the lady Muirgel. She has taken a dislike to me and it seems she has persuaded the Brehon Barrán that she is in the right.’

‘Why should she dislike you?’ queried Eadulf, suddenly remembering the conversation he had overheard between Cnucha and the senior female servant, Brónach.

‘The lady Muirgel does not have to give reasons.’

‘Surely you will be supported by Brother Rogallach or Abbot Colmán if her behaviour is unreasonable?’

She was anxious again and shook her head. ‘I cannot complain to them.’

‘Why? Who are you afraid of?’

‘I am not afraid. I know that nothing could be done.’

‘Why?’ he demanded.

There was a movement behind him and Cnucha sprang up with a guilty expression.

‘You are forgetting yourself, Cnucha,’ came the iron tone of Brónach. ‘Brother Eadulf is a guest here and you should be attending to his wants, not sitting gossiping.’

Eadulf turned to the attractive woman, who was in charge of the female servants, and said lightly, ‘It is all right, Brónach. I did not need anything. It was just that … ’He turned back to Cnucha and suddenly saw her expression, as if silently imploring him to say no more. Eadulf shrugged. ‘It was just that I wondered how long Cnucha here had worked in Tara and we fell to talking.’