Ninnid’s shoulders seemed to sink even lower.
‘I accept,’ he said softly.
When Ninnid had left the Chief Brehon relaxed a little. ‘A vain and silly man. He is talented in his knowledge of law but his arrogance makes him defective in his judgement. Yet perhaps he will learn from this event.’ He suddenly turned to Fidelma. ‘Are you close to a solution to these matters now?’
‘You may tell the High King that tomorrow at midday, either we will have the answers to these deaths or we may have to assume that the culprit has escaped us.’
‘Ah, you mean Brother Drón?’
Fidelma would not comment but made her excuses and left. Colgú stood up, moved to a side table and waved the Chief Brehon to a chair near the fire.
‘A goblet of wine, Barrán?’
The Chief Brehon smiled. ‘Corma would be better still,’ he said.
Colgú poured the drinks and settled in a chair opposite Barrán. They both sipped appreciatively for a moment.
‘I hope my sister will be able to sort out this puzzle,’ Colgú finally commented. ‘It is a bad business, with everyone ready to condemn Cashel if there is no resolution.’
‘I have confidence in Fidelma.’ The Chief Brehon was reassuring. ‘Her reputation has not been won merely by luck. If I had influence with her, I would try to persuade her to separate entirely from the religious and become a brehon instead of just a dálaigh. She has the ability to make such sound judgements that she is often wasted in pleading cases before others. . especially when they are so inferior in judgement as Ninnid.’
‘I know that she has been considering her position in the religious,’ Colgú confided. ‘However, she feels uncomfortable about it because she places such reliance on our cousin’s advice. .’
‘Abbot Laisran of Durrow?’
Colgú nodded. ‘He was the one who persuaded her to enter the religious in the first place. He argued that it would make her independent of a reliance on her work in law. But monastic life was not to her taste. Her first interest and commitment is to the law and, as you know, for the last few years now she has been her own mistress. However, I know that she feels that any severance from the religious will be a betrayal of Laisran.’
‘Do you think her marriage to the Saxon will alter her attitudes?’
‘I think Eadulf is a good man. A stable man. I would, of course, have preferred her to wed one of our own, but he shares her enthusiasm for her work. He is not qualified in our laws, but he seems to have a natural aptitude in helping her to solve these conundrums. I have often suggested that he should study our law, for he was an hereditary. . gerefa, I think is the word. It means a magistrate of his own people in the Saxon lands.’
Barrán sighed deeply. ‘I share your view of Eadulf. A good man, even though he is a Saxon. Perhaps you are right, Colgú. Maybe he will help steer her away from the stormy waters that this new faith is bringing with it. The debates between our native forms and these foreign ways that emanate from Rome are becoming more vicious. Truly, I do fear for the future.’
Fergus Fanat was sitting up with a bandage round his head and looking rueful as Fidelma entered the little room where old Brother Conchobhar nursed his patients. Fidelma had been informed that the warrior had recovered consciousness as she was about to leave the fortress with Caol and Rónán. She told them to continue down to the town to begin the search for Brother Drón and that she would catch up with them later.
‘How are you feeling?’ she asked as she dropped into a seat beside his bed.
The warrior managed a brief smile. ‘As if someone has hit me over the head with a cudgel.’
‘At least they have not repressed your humour,’ she commented. She paused and then went on: ‘You know that Sister Marga has left the fortress? And Drón, in spite of our best efforts, has escaped and we think he is in pursuit of her.’
Fergus Fanat sighed deeply but said nothing.
‘You do not appear surprised?’
He glanced up at her and then shrugged. ‘I am not exactly surprised,’ he said cautiously.
‘Why didn’t you tell me that you knew Sister Marga when I first questioned you after the game of immán?’
‘You did not ask me,’ he countered.
‘That is true,’ she agreed. ‘But you did not volunteer the information even though she was standing on the field waiting to speak to you.’
‘At that time, our last parting had not been in the best spirit. I wasn’t sure whether I was going to speak to her anyway.’
‘When did you first meet Sister Marga?’
Fergus Fanat frowned. The contraction of his muscles resonated on his injury and he winced, raising a hand to his bandaged forehead.
‘She must have told you,’ he said.
‘I am asking you to tell me,’ Fidelma said firmly.
He made a resigned gesture with his shoulders. ‘I was visiting the abbey of Ard Stratha on behalf of Blathmac and Sister Marga had come there to investigate some old manuscripts. . I cannot remember precisely. The story is not complicated. I fell in love; she said that she reciprocated my feelings. When she went back to her own abbey at Cill Ria, I contrived to meet her many times. .’
‘You contrived?’ Fidelma emphasised the word.
‘You will recall that I knew all about Abbot Ultán, his background and his pious prejudices. He had already separated what used to be a conhospitae into separate houses for the males and females. He did not sanction any fraternisation between the sexes and our meetings were very difficult to arrange. Then she stopped meeting me at all, and through an intermediary she told me that the relationship was over and that she no longer wanted to see me.’
Fidelma raised her head with interest. ‘Who was the intermediary?’
‘The same woman who is her companion now.’
‘Sister Sétach?’
Fergus Fanat nodded. ‘I was forced to accept it, though I could not understand it. I saw no more of Marga until the very day you mention, in the township here when I was playing immán.’
‘And when was the first time that you spoke to her after that?’
‘In the woods, during the hunt.’
‘Tell me about that,’ Fidelma said, sitting back.
Once more Fergus Fanat gave her a quick examination from under lowered brows. ‘I suppose you know that she was running away from Cashel?’
‘I do.’
‘Well, we had encountered the boars, a whole pride of them with a large male tusker who had already caught one of the hounds and injured it badly. Then this boar espied us and did it run off? It did not, but came and charged our horses. Boars are fighting animals and do not searc easily — but to charge at the spearmen? Incredible. That was when I managed to prick it with my bir. Anyway, some of the horses were frightened. Some took off. I was separated in that charge and started looking for the main body. It was then that I came across Marga.’
Fidelma leaned forward. ‘So your meeting was not prearranged?’
He shook his head quickly, confirming the story that Marga had told Fidelma. ‘I knew that she was a good horsewoman. She told me her family bred horses up on the Sperrins. Those are the mountains in Uí Thuirtrí country. So I was not surprised when I found her.’
‘You had not known that she was in the party of women following the hunt?’
‘Not until then.’
‘What then?’
‘She halted and we exchanged a few awkward words. Then she began to cry and we dismounted and began to talk. She told me why she had decided that we should stop seeing each other.’
‘Which was to do with the way she had been treated by Abbot Ultán?’