‘I’m sure he would,’ Fidelma said at once. ‘You will want your brothers to attend as well?’
‘It is their right.’
‘Very well. If you take the track from here which leads north-west, within twenty kilometres you will find yourself back in the great valley of Eatharlaí, which you have made your new home. Wait there at Ardane and I will send your brothers to you. To the south you will see the wooded mountains rising above you — Sleibhte na gCoillte, the mountains of the woods. Tell Miach that I have requested this. When you are ready, proceed up into them; you may build your pyre there. It is isolated up there and you will not offend anyone. Miach will tell you the best path. That will be a fitting place for your father. Eadulf and Gormán will bring your brothers to you at Ardane by this evening.’
Brother Berrihert impulsively reached forward and took her hand.
‘Bless you, lady. For your understanding and for your trust.’
Fidelma smiled wryly. ‘I do not think it will be displaced.’
‘Yet I know that my father, indeed, myself and my brothers, could be suspect of killing Abbot Ultán just as my father attempted to kill his lackey Drón.’
‘I do not think that you or your brothers had a hand in it,’ replied Fidelma.
‘You may rest assured, lady, that, having observed the obsequies for our father this night, we shall return to Cashel after dawn tomorrow, there to await your judgements on the matters of Abbot Ultán’s death and my father’s attack on Drón.’
Eadulf helped Brother Berrihert to carry the body of Ordwulf, with his battleaxe, up the path to where they had left their horses. He helped Berrihert secure the body on Ordwulf’s horse and Berrihert mounted behind it. Fidelma pointed to the track he must follow which was easy enough as the great Mountains of the Woods were visible. They rose to the north-west and once round their most easterly end, the mouth of the valley of Eatharlaí opened up and Ardane was near.
They watched him set off along the track and then mounted their own horses. Fidelma was a little saddened.
‘Let us pray that the blessed glade of Patrick’s Well will extend its healing quality to the poor lost soul of Ordwulf.’
Eadulf grimaced sceptically. ‘It seems to me that Brother Drón stands more in need of its healing and calming qualities than did Ordwulf.’
Fidelma was thoughtful. ‘Drón and all his ilk are trouble,’ she said as they turned their horses back towards Cashel. ‘Eadulf, I am sorry to place this extra journey on you and Gormán when we return. While I trust the Saxons, I would prefer it if you both accompanied Berrihert’s brothers to attend this funeral of Ordwulf.’
Eadulf gave her a quick glance. ‘You expect some problem?’
‘Not exactly. I want to ensure that there are no problems. Ninnid is always looking for easy solutions and there is a growing impatience among the guests at Cashel which might substitute expediency for justice.’
‘You mean that some will blame Ordwulf for Ultán’s death now that he has attempted the life of Drón? But then who killed Muirchertach? Dúnchad Muirisci?’
‘As I say,’ Fidelma replied, without answering his question, ‘some at Cashel want quick solutions which will probably not be the right ones.’
They arrived back at Cashel by mid-morning and immediately Fidelma sought out Caol to ensure that he and his prisoner had arrived back safely.
The young warrior was rubbing down his horse in the stables.
‘There were no problems on your journey back?’
Caol grinned crookedly. ‘How did you guess that there would be problems, lady?’
‘I did not think that Brother Drón was the type to be a docile companion and come here under your guidance without creating a problem.’
‘Well, he did once try to elude me. But I would not be fit to be commander of your brother’s bodyguard if I had allowed him to be successful.’
‘What did you do?’ asked Eadulf.
‘I gently stroked him on the head with the blunt part of my sword, and while he was stunned I tied his hands with some cord.’
Fidelma grimaced. ‘He will doubtless complain of ill treatment but you did the right thing. Where is he now?’
‘Well, I know he is a guest here but, judging by his behaviour, he needed to be placed somewhere secure until you can decide what to do with him. I had him placed in the Duma na nGiall.’
At the back of the fortress was an area that was separated from the rest of the palace buildings by a high wall through which only someone with authority or special permission could enter. It was know by the ancient name Duma na nGiall — the mound of hostages. Nobles who had been taken prisoner in battle, who would not give their gell, their word of honour, not to escape, were imprisoned there. Until recently it was where the Uí Fidgente chieftains had been held until the peace with the new Uí Fidgente prince Donennach was concluded.
‘Has my brother been informed of this?’
Caol nodded quickly. ‘I explained the circumstances. The king said that he would inform Blathmac of Ulaidh because Drón was theoretically under his protection. Colgú does not want any arguments to arise. .’
Fidelma held up her hand, nodding.
‘. . over such a sensitive matter,’ she concluded. ‘He is punctilious.’
‘But Colgú agreed to allow Drón’s incarceration until your return.’
‘So Brother Drón is still incarcerated in the Duma na nGiall?’
‘He is.’
‘Good. I will see my brother before I have a long talk with Brother Drón.’
She turned to Eadulf as they began to walk back across the courtyard to the main buildings.
‘Find Pecanum and Naovan in the hostel for the male religious in the town. Tell them gently what has happened to their father. Take Gormán and two spare horses with you and go to Ardane, as we have agreed. Explain to Miach that he should do all he can to help Brother Berrihert and his brothers with their burial of their father. They must be allowed to do it in the manner they think fit. Say it is my wish.’
‘I will. But what of you? This means I shall not be back before tomorrow morning at the earliest. You promised the High King that you would tell him tonight who killed Ultán and Muirchertach.’
Fidelma gave him a reassuring look. ‘I promised only to tell him whether I was in a position to have a hearing before the Chief Brehon. I think I can do that now. Don’t worry, I shall not be bringing this matter to a conclusion before your return. We need all the suspects to be brought together here before that can happen. So make sure that you return safely with Brother Berrihert and his brothers.’
Colgú was actually with Blathmac when Fidelma was shown into her brother’s chambers. The king of Ulaidh looked up with a frown.
‘You are placing a heavy burden on me, lady,’ he greeted her sourly.
Fidelma took a seat before the fire.
‘What burden would that be, Blathmac?’ she inquired innocently.
‘The incarceration of Brother Drón of Cill Ria.’
‘Why would that be a burden?’ she asked as she warmed herself at the flames.
‘Whatever has happened here, lady, and however Ultán and Drón have been regarded, they were still the emissaries of Ségéne, abbot of Ard Macha, and, moreover, the Comarb of the Blessed Patrick. It is to Ségéne that I have to justify these events. Even if the southern kingdoms do not regard him as the senior bishop in the five kingdoms, we in the northern kingdoms do so. Abbot Ségéne can be a powerful friend and a powerful enemy. Remember that I am king of Ulaidh and if I am not seen to be protecting the interests of my people — all my people, the good and the bad — then my position will be questioned.’
Colgú was anxious to placate his fellow king. ‘We understand that, Blathmac.’ He glanced at his sister. ‘Fidelma, is there a good reason to hold Brother Drón in such a manner?’