‘Why not contact him later?’
‘Because I was watched closely. I was in despair. And at Ultán’s funeral last night I saw him there with his cousin, the king of Ulaidh. I know he saw me. He saw Sister Sétach embracing me during the funeral. I think she did so on purpose because she saw him watching me and might have guessed there had been something between us. But he made no attempt to contact me. I was in despair. That was when I decided to flee and strike out for Laigin.’
Fidelma sat back regarding her thoughtfully. ‘And you still maintain that meeting Fergus Fanat on the hunt was an accident?’
‘Aren’t our lives full of coincidences?’ the girl demanded. ‘If the coincidence works against us we say “if only. .” If only we had taken a certain path at a certain time we might have changed our lives. If only. When, however, we do take the path where there is a meeting, where our lives are changed, it is hailed as a suspicious act.’
‘I will not disagree with your philosophy. But what I want to know is what Fergus Fanat could say to you, in these circumstances, to prevent your flight to Laigin?’
‘It is what I told him. I told him everything. The truth about my life at Cill Ria, why I felt too ashamed to continue to see him, and my reason for accompanying Abbot Ultán on this embassy to Imleach and Cashel. And he accepted me as I am. We mean to marry. He told me to come here and stand up to Brother Drón and Sister Sétach and that he would support and protect me.’
‘And have you stood up to them?’ Fidelma asked.
Sister Marga shook her head. ‘Not yet. We shall see them together. Then I shall travel back with Fergus Fanat to Ulaidh and be his wife.’
There was no mistaking the happiness in the girl’s features as she said this. Then she glanced nervously round. ‘Do not say anything until Fergus and I have that meeting. We desire to stand up to them together.’
Fidelma was reassuring. ‘Have no fear, I will not speak about this for the time being.’
Eadulf nodded his assent as he saw the girl’s face turned imploringly towards him.
‘When is this confrontation with Drón and Sétach to be?’ he asked.
‘This evening, after the meal.’
It was just before the evening meal when Fidelma and Eadulf received another summons to Colgú’s private chamber. The High King, Sechnassach, sat in the chair usually occupied by Colgú. He wore a worried expression.
Colgú sat beside him, and also present in the chamber were the brehons Barrán, Baithen and Ninnid. As Fidelma and Eadulf entered the room, the High King himself bade Fidelma to be seated. Eadulf, as a foreigner of lower rank who was not entitled to sit in the presence of the High King, stood up in a position behind Fidelma’s chair. Finguine, Colgú’s tánaiste, and Caol, commander of Colgú’s guard, stood at the door.
It was Brehon Barrán who spoke first.
‘Brehon Ninnid informs us that you have released Brother Drón, thus apparently admitting that Ninnid was correct when he told you that a churchman could not have taken part in a vengeance killing. Further, he says that he has found that the obvious suspect is Muirchertach’s heir apparent and that you know this but are delaying the charges to be heard against him.’
Fidelma remained impassive, although Eadulf sensed stiffening in her body.
‘There is no evidence to bring charges,’ she replied tersely.
‘An abbot is murdered and now a king. In each case it seems that the evidence against one person is overwhelming and yet you seem to be delaying a hearing on both matters. We must bring things to a resolution and quickly,’ Brehon Barrán insisted.
‘We have already discussed this. I thought that it had been agreed that more time was needed,’ Fidelma said, speaking directly to Sechnassach. The High King looked uncomfortable.
‘Brehon Ninnid has asked for this meeting to make a plea that, after the unilateral release of Brother Drón and his discovery of the evidence against Dúnchad Muirisici, charges should be brought against Muirchertach’s tánaiste.’
At this, Brehon Ninnid coughed nervously and rose from his seat.
‘With due respect, I think Sister Fidelma is making this matter complicated when it is simple in its resolution,’ he said. ‘Abbot Ultán was slain by Muirchertach Nár.’
‘For what reason?’ demanded the High King.
‘I think that the lady Fidelma will agree with me on the reason. I have learned that he blamed Ultán for the death of his wife’s younger sister and had once sought compensation from him. The compensation was refused. Everything was done within the law, although Muirchertach Nár claimed that it was not so. That gave him a cause for anger and resentment.’
Sechnassach glanced to where Fidelma was seated. Her face was impassive. ‘Do you agree with this?’
‘I agree that there was an enmity between Muirchertach Nár and Ultán over the death of this girl,’ Fidelma replied.
Brehon Ninnid smiled triumphantly. ‘There is the motive. That makes sense of those distinguished witnesses’ — he inclined his head in swift succession to Brehon Baithen and Caol — ‘who saw Muirchertach Nár flee from the bedchamber at the time of Ultán’s murder.’
‘It makes sense, but it does not prove beyond dispute that Muirchertach Nár was the killer,’ Fidelma pointed out. ‘And now Muirchertach Nár is slain himself and cannot make a proper defence.’
‘He was slain by his heir in order to seize the throne of Connacht,’ went on Brehon Ninnid. ‘We have the evidence of Brother Eadulf there, who, with the warrior Gormán, having been called to the scene of the king of Connacht’s death, followed the tracks of two horses from that very spot. One was the riderless mount of Muirchertach Nár found by Brother Drón. The other was the horse that had a split horsehoe and belonged to Dúnchad Muirisci. But now Sister Fidelma, having claimed that Muirchertach Nár was innocent and demanded time to investigate, has released Brother Drón from confinement. Yet she has not put forward charges against Dúnchad Muirisci. I say that she is delaying a hearing unnecessarily.’
‘As a point of correction, tracks of three horses were observed by Rónán the tracker. We have not identified the third set of tracks.’
Sechnassach sighed. ‘Even so, it seems very logical. There is much speculation and unrest among our people, Fidelma. A quick hearing of these facts could stop it.’
‘Except,’ Fidelma’s voice cut in coldly as she rose from her seat, ‘except that it would not be justice. Not justice to Bishop Ultán nor justice to Muirchertach Nár nor even justice to Dúnchad Muirisci or Brother Drón.’
Brehon Ninnid glanced at her, shrugged eloquently and sat down. ‘You have contrary evidence then?’ he said, almost with a smirk.
Fidelma hesitated.
‘Well, Fidelma? Do you?’ prompted Sechnassach gently.
‘I have only inconsistencies to put forward at this time. However, such as they are they do cause concern.’
Sechnassach glanced at Brehon Barrán as if seeking help.
‘We all are aware of Fidelma’s reputation,’ Brehon Barrán said. ‘There is none here who does not respect her knowledge of law and the sharp penetration of her questions. I certainly would not dismiss her arguments lightly without some consideration of them.’
Fidelma bowed slightly towards him. ‘If there is one thing that irritates me about this whole matter it is that we have circumstantial evidence pointing to two people. And in their defence, both of them — I am speaking of Muirchertach Nár and Dúnchad — have put forward curious tales, which seem to confirm some guilt. But, by his own weak tale, even Brother Drón is also a prime suspect.’