The Devil's Seal (18 page)

‘What of Brehon Aillín? How is he to be told?’ Fidelma asked, still concerned.

‘I will have a private talk with him,’ Colgú assured her. ‘He is a widower but his daughter and her husband have a farmstead south of Rath na Drinne. He will be well looked after.’

‘He might not accept this without protest,’ Fidelma said anxiously.

‘But accept it he must,’ Colgú replied, his voice firm. ‘Now we all have much work to do. Keep me informed of the events of your investigation.’

He rose, indicating their meeting was over.

Outside the King’s chamber, Fidelma seemed dispirited. ‘I wish there was some more pleasant way to end Aillín’s career. After all, he was not always an aging curmudgeon. Many young lawyers learned from him.’

‘It is out of our hands now,’ Eadulf responded philosophically.

Fidelma did not reply for a moment. Then she said: ‘Let us go in search of Gormán and see if has come up with anything. With luck, someone saw something around the storehouse.’

‘First I must find Egric and get him to identify the body, if he can,’ Eadulf reminded her.

As they entered the courtyard they found old Brother Conchobhar hurrying towards them.

‘I was coming to find you,’ he murmured, casting an almost conspiratorial look around him. ‘There is something that you must see.’

He turned and led them to his apothecary. They asked no questions, for the physician seemed in a state of some agitation. They followed him to a small room at the back of his workshop – a place where he usually examined and prepared bodies ready for burial. The corpse of Rudgal was stretched out on the table, ready to be washed for the burial. A
racholl
or winding sheet loosely covered him.

‘I was undressing the body,’ explained Brother Conchobhar, ‘when I found this object tied around the waist.’ He turned, and from beneath a bundle of clothes on a nearby chair he picked up a piece of material and handed it to Fidelma.

It was a narrow band of woven lambswool, once white in colour, but stained and dirty now. It was a curious shape – a band some three fingers thick, made as if to loop through itself. Embroidered on it were six black crosses.

‘In the old days,’ Brother Conchobhar recalled, ‘something like this was a ritual vestment worn by all bishops of the New Faith. Although this seems to be of a slightly different design.’

‘But why would Rudgal be hiding it around his waist?’ asked Fidelma. ‘Was this what he thought was significant?’

‘Do you think that Rudgal stole it from Victricius?’ Eadulf wondered. ‘Maybe Victricius was a bishop and this was his vestment?’ He took the lambswool from her and examined it carefully.

‘If so, he must have known something more about it,’ Fidelma said sensibly.

‘But what would someone like Rudgal know about the vestments of the ecclesiastics?’ Eadulf was frowning. ‘According to Brehon Furudán, Rudgal claimed that someone at Láirge’s harbour had paid him and his thugs to attack and kill the Venerable Victricius and my brother. I suppose that person may have told him something about it.’

‘That doesn’t sound likely.’ Fidelma was dubious. ‘If they were just hired thugs, Rudgal and his gang of cut-throats would not be let into any secret which gave them additional power, surely.’

‘Then if they weren’t told, why did he take it and hide it on his person? Why did he come here confident we would make a bargain with him? And why was he killed?’

Fidelma returned his gaze thoughtfully. ‘You are asking too many good questions, Eadulf. Anyway, I think we can be sure that he kept it as a means of bargaining for his freedom. But now I think we have another question to pursue.’

‘Which is?’ prompted Eadulf.

‘We know that this used to be a symbol that was worn by bishops years ago. Perhaps that symbolism has changed?’

Brother Conchobhar intervened. ‘I can make some discreet enquiries. Our Keeper of the Books is a man of great knowledge, and an enquiry from me would not give rise to any undue attention.’

‘But don’t show him this,’ Fidelma warned, folding the band. ‘Just describe it to him as if it was something you had once seen. In the meantime, I suggest you hide it somewhere safe.’

They emerged from Brother Conchobhar’s apothecary more perplexed than they had entered it. They found Gormán looking for them.

‘I just wanted to tell you that I have spoken to all the members of the bodyguard who were around the
Laochtech
while the prisoner was held there.’ He sounded frustrated. ‘None of them saw anything. Enda was in charge, since he and Luan secured the prisoner in the storehouse, as Eadulf will have told you. The Déisi warriors never left the
brandubh
game. Everyone else had their guard duties to perform and have been accounted for.’

‘The trouble is that the storehouse is behind the
Laochtech
,’ Fidelma observed. ‘Anyone could have gone round it and entered it without being seen by the warriors in the
Laochtech
.’

‘Well, there are other matters that I must proceed with,’ Eadulf said. ‘Has my brother returned yet? He needs to identify Rudgal’s body to say whether he was one of the attackers. He can’t still be in Rumman’s tavern, surely?’

Gormán turned to him in surprise. ‘He didn’t tell you?’

Eadulf frowned. ‘Tell me what? I haven’t seen him since I asked you where he was earlier.’

The young warrior nervously cleared his throat at Eadulf’s response. ‘He has left with Dego. They will be gone for a few days.’

Eadulf was staring at Gormán in incomprehension. It was Fidelma who asked the question. ‘Gone where for a few days, Gormán?’ she asked softly.

‘I told friend Eadulf here earlier that they were talking about fishing or hunting.’

‘And?’ snapped Eadulf, his voice dangerous. ‘What are you saying now?’

‘Well, Dego had permission from me to take some days’ rest after our recent trip. He was going to spend a few days fishing and hunting. He has a cabin somewhere in the Sliabh na gCoille.’

Eadulf knew that the Mountains of the Forest was the name of the peaks to the south-west. It was a large area.

‘When did you learn this?’ he asked coldly.

‘When you went to tell the King about the discovery of the body of the prisoner. Dego came back to the fortress at that moment to tell me he was leaving. As he had been in the township, the matter of questioning him about the death of the prisoner did not relate to him. I saw no objection to allowing him to leave.’ The warrior looked embarrassed.

‘That was not the problem.’ Fidelma spoke quietly. ‘This prisoner was supposed to be the man who attacked Egric, so Egric was needed as an official witness. Why did you not keep him here so that he could identify him?’

Gormán raised his arms in a helpless gesture.

‘Egric did not come back with Dego. I presumed that he was waiting for him in Rumann’s tavern. I thought that he had already told Eadulf his intention when Eadulf went to the tavern to see him earlier. In fact, I’ve just seen Beccan, who was asking whether Egric would be feasting with the King this evening. He was worrying about the arrangements as usual. I never saw a steward so worried about details. But . . . well, didn’t you say that you were speaking about fishing to your brother?’

Eadulf shook his head in annoyance. ‘He did not mention any intention of leaving immediately with Dego on a fishing or hunting trip.’

The warrior was looking unhappy. ‘I did not realise that he had not told you, and it did not occur to me that you would disapprove.’

‘It’s not that I disapprove,’ muttered Eadulf fiercely. ‘However, the timing and circumstance are . . . are odd.’

‘It’s not your fault, Gormán,’ Fidelma intervened. ‘We just needed to ask if Egric could identify this Rudgal as his attacker. But it is no matter, since that was just a formality. We have evidence aplenty. But with this second murder and the fact that the arrival of the deputation from the east is imminent, it would be better had all the trusted members of the King’s bodyguard remained in the palace.’

‘Perhaps if I sent a fast rider after them?’ Gormán offered.

‘Just a moment. Were they both on horseback?’

‘They had the horses they left with this morning. Dego only came back here to collect his belongings for the trip. Your brother had lost all his belongings in the attack on the Siúr, so I presume they would purchase some items in the town before they left.’

‘Which way were they heading?’

‘I am not sure. Dego’s cabin is among the mountains south of the Valley of Eatharlach.’

Fidelma turned to Eadulf. ‘A good rider might eventually be able to overtake them if he were sure of the direction they were taking.’

‘Surely there is only one main track to the south-west?’ he protested.

‘I think Dego would know a dozen more,’ she replied. ‘One could hide an entire army among those mountains, searching for years without being able to discover them.’

Fidelma understood the real reason why Eadulf was upset. His brother had felt so little concern for Eadulf’s feelings that he had left without a word, having only just been reunited with him.

‘If Dego has promised to return in a few days then he is a man of his word. We will have to wait until then, as probably nothing will be resolved meanwhile,’ Fidelma said soothingly. ‘Anyway, twice now Egric has told you that he did not know the purpose of the Venerable Victricius’ journey. Will he change his mind on a third questioning? He told you that Victricius carried papers. We now know from Cummasach, or rather his Brehon, that the papers had been destroyed by Rudgal and his companions. So there is not much help there.’

Eadulf breathed in deeply and then let the air out in a rush. It seemed to calm him a little. ‘So you advocate that we wait for Egric and Dego to return?’

‘There seems little else to do,’ she said. ‘There will be time to try to understand your brother’s attitude later.’

Eadulf was still troubled. He addressed Gormán: ‘You said that Dego’s cabin is in the mountains of Sliabh na gCoillte. Has he ever told you where?’

‘Dego likes to keep what he calls his “retreat” a secret from people.’

As Eadulf sighed, Fidelma asked: ‘There is something else on your mind. What is it?’

‘I was just thinking that, if what Victricius and Egric carried were part of this wider mystery – that they were attacked
because
of it, and now Rudgal has been killed
because
of it – then some danger may still attend Egric. After all, it was only by the smallest luck that my brother escaped from being killed alongside Victricius and the boatmen in the first place.’

Fidelma thought for a moment. ‘It is a good point, Eadulf. Yet by going away with Dego, whom we know from our own experiences to be a good warrior and able bodyguard, Egric may be safer than staying here in Cashel.’

Eadulf had not considered the point before. After a few moments, he concluded, ‘Perhaps you are right. He is safer being out of the way.’

C
olgú decided to host the evening meal again as Abbot Ségdae and Abbess Líoch were still officially his guests. Their stewards were also invited, along with Fidelma and Eadulf as well as Gormán. Often the Commander of the Bodyguard was invited to feast with the King. Beccan the steward, bobbing and grinning, took the guests to their appointed places and then, as was protocol, announced the arrival of the King before withdrawing. Apparently, he had already told Colgú of Egric’s absence with Dego, for when Eadulf started to apologise, the King smiled sadly.

‘I wish
I
could join them over the next few days,’ he said. ‘I’d rather be hunting a wild boar than trying to deal with these matters.’

During the meal, Fidelma found herself seated next to Sister Dianaimh, the
bann-mhaor
of Cill Náile. After some inconsequential remarks, she asked the young woman if she had ever heard of the Venerable Victricius.

‘The Venerable Victricius? I do not think I have ever heard that name. Why?’ The young girl’s expression was blank.

‘It was just a thought,’ replied Fidelma. ‘That was the name of the cleric who was killed on the way to Imleach. Eadulf’s brother was his companion, but he escaped with minor hurt.’

‘I heard the story but the name did not register with me.’

After the meal ended the wine was still circulating, perhaps a little too freely. The tables were cleared and the musicians came in to entertain them. Fidelma saw her opportunity to have a word with Gormán as a matter had come to her mind that she wanted to clarify.

‘When you found the bodies near Brother Siolán’s church, did you examine that of the old religieux?’

‘Of course.’ Gormán regarded her in surprise for a moment. ‘I first had to ascertain that he was dead and give authority to Brother Siolán to bury the corpse.’

‘It is hard to form a picture of someone when you have not seen them. It was, of course, Egric who identified him as the Venerable Victricius?’

‘He did.’

‘The old man wore a Roman tonsure?’

‘Yes, and his appearance was small and swarthy. It was clear that he was a stranger from beyond these shores.’

‘And in physique – was he strong?’