Peter Tremayne - Dancing With Demons

‘I hope that may be avoided, Fidelma. The word of truth from a Brehon is a sacred matter.’ The Chief Brehon lifted his shoulder in a curious gesture of resignation. ‘I knew your task would not be easy,’ he confessed. ‘Had things been easy, then the Great Assembly would not have sent to Cashel to ask you to come.’

Fidelma raised her gaze to his. ‘If I am to continue this investigation, Barrán, I must be assured that nothing is being held back. Whatever your concerns for public knowledge and protecting the reputation of the High King and his lady, you should have let me know how matters stood between Sechnussach and Gormflaith in their estrangement.’

‘You found it out quickly enough,’ responded Barrán defensively. ‘And it does not bring you closer to a solution.’

‘That is beside the point. If I am to succeed, nothing should be held back. It is a principle of the law.’

‘You are right, of course,’ the Chief Brehon conceded, before raising his hand and letting it fall in a helpless gesture. ‘Sometimes, in the higher strata of politics … ’ he used the word riaglaid as an act of governing and rule ‘ … sometimes the right to information must take second place to the art of diplomacy.’

‘Well, it seems that you will not have to struggle with a conflict of decisions for much longer,’ she remarked.

Brehon Barrán looked puzzled.

‘Cenn Faelad,’ she reminded him,‘mentioned that he was nominating you as his heir-apparent, in which case you will give up the role of Chief Brehon.’

‘Cenn Faelad is kind,’ Barrán said, and gave a brief smile. ‘It will be a honour to serve my cousin in this new role.’

‘You do not feel it strange that he, being young, has nominated you, being older than he is, as his heir?’ mused Fidelma.

Brehon Barrán appeared slightly affronted. ‘I have several good years of service in me yet, Fidelma. I hope to be advising the High King and the Great Assembly for many years to come. It is a wise young king who appoints one more elderly to act as adviser.’

Fidelma shrugged indifferently. ‘I am a simple dálaigh, Barrán, whose job it is to discover the truth, and truth is often bitter but truth must always prevail if there is to be any hope for good government.’

Brehon Barrán was not perturbed at her implied censure.

‘You have my word, Fidelma. You have now had only the truth so far as it is in my possession to give it to you.’

‘So be it. And you can tell me no more about Dubh Duin who, Gormflaith says, you introduced to her?’

‘As I say, I have no recollection of it.’ Barrán shrugged. ‘I introduce many people to each other. All I recall about Dubh Duin is that he was regarded as a capable man, a good chieftain and a strong advocate of the rights of his people while in the Great Assembly. I would say he was inclined to be conservative in all his dealings.’ He then added: ‘I suspect he was conservative in matters of the old religion as well.’

‘Why do you suggest that? Are you saying that he did not embrace the New Faith?’

‘I really don’t know. He raised a heated debate in the Great Assembly once, asking that people should have as much right to follow the Old Faith as follow the New Faith. I know harsh words were exchanged with Sechnussach, but I was not there so cannot give you the details.’

Fidelma was not happy. ‘Harsh words between Sechnussach and Dubh Duin? Is this another question of information that would help my investigation that has somehow been overlooked?’ she said indignantly.

‘You must ask Irél, who was attending the Great Assembly that day or, indeed, one of those nobles who were present at the debate. I am not the investigator of this matter.’ Brehon Barrán made a motion of his hand as if in dismissal. ‘For me, there was nothing to mark Dubh Duin outsignificantly from the rest of the nobles of Midhe.’ He relaxed a little and grinned. ‘They are all egocentric with pretensions of high-minded morals. Dubh Duin liked to claim that the new religion was persecuting those who followed the old religion and that he was merely standing up for the rights of those who did so.’

Fidelma turned to the door, pausing with her hand about to open it. ‘It would be best if nothing else was concealed from me in the future, Barrán,’ she remarked tightly before she made her exit.

Outside, with the door closed, she exhaled deeply in exasperation. She was angry that the Chief Brehon had tried to conceal facts, claiming, in his defence, that it was good for the people. She returned along the corridor to the hallway of the Tech Cormaic , where she found Eadulf waiting for her.

‘There is no one at the hall of the Great Assembly at this time,’ he explained, ‘but I do have some information that might be useful. I had a word with Irél about Dubh Duin and an argument he had in the assembly.’

‘An argument with Sechnussach over religion?’ Fidelma said.

Eadulf’s face fell. ‘You already know about it?’

She reached forward and took his arm in companionable fashion. ‘In truth, I have only just heard that it took place. I have no details. Come, let us go into the fresh air and then tell me all you know.’

When Eadulf had related his conversation with Irél, the commander of the Fianna, Fidelma merely commented: ‘It is background information that helps to paint a picture of our assassin, but not much else. There is still much to discover.’

‘What did Brehon Barrán have to say to you? Did Gormflaith tell the truth?’

‘I am afraid that both Gormflaith and Barrán tell stories that are impossible to reconcile. Barrán said that so far as he knew, no divorce was arranged and he was never asked to draw up a settlement to be agreed by them.’

She was about to speak further when the dowdy young woman who had been serving in the guesthouse, Cnucha, came hurrying by. Fidelma called to her and the girl, seeing who it was, came over immediately, her hands demurely folded before her.

‘May I help, lady?’ she asked, eyes downcast.

‘I am looking for Brother Rogallach. Would you know where he is?’

The girl indicated towards the back of the Tech Cormaic.

‘At this hour you will find him in the kitchen, lady. The door at the back is open, so you may go through the house to the kitchen.’

Fidelma was about to thank the girl when the figure of Brónach appeared on the steps of the royal residence and glowered angrily at them.

‘Cnucha! What are you loitering there for? I sent you to help Báine in the guesthouse. Be off with you!’ The woman turned on her heel and went inside.

Cnucha, in an uncharacteristic show of temper, suddenly stuck out a tongue in her direction and then, realising that the others had seen her, she blushed and lowered her head.

‘I am sorry, lady. Sometimes it is difficult to put up with all the insults that have to be endured when people think you have no feelings and no ability to fight back. I am sure Brónach is usually a good person. Recently, however, she has become increasingly irritable. I think it is because her lover may have left her.’

Fidelma was disapproving. ‘It is not seemly to speak of such things, Cnucha.’

The girl tried to appear contrite. ‘It just slipped out, lady. Brónach is a nice woman, very attractive, and it was sad when her husband was killed. I am surprised that she did not take another husband. Someone like her could have many suitors. I am sure she had a lover until a few weeks ago — not that she ever told us or that we knew — but she has been so miserable and snappy of late, and-’

The girl caught sight of Fidelma’s frown and stopped dead. ‘Sorry, it’s just … sorry.’ She moved off quickly on her errand.