‘We cannot delay the report to the Great Assembly indefinitely, Fidelma. They will want something soon.’
‘Then they will get it.’
‘But we should already be sending couriers to announce a date when the Great Assembly can convene to hear your findings.’
To Eadulf’s surprise Fidelma did not argue but said: ‘Tell the couriers to announce that the Great Assembly should be able to meet in about a week’s time. That will give them time to alert all in the five kingdoms who will send delegations to hear the result.’
Even Cenn Faelad looked astonished. ‘You will be able to give a full report in a week’s time?’ he asked.
‘I would not have suggested it if I did not think I could do so,’ replied Fidelma waspishly. ‘But I have come to say that, for the time being, we must conduct our enquiries elsewhere for a while.’
‘Elsewhere?’
‘We plan to travel west to Delbna Mór and then on to the Cinél Cairpre to see what we can learn about the character of Dubh Duin.’
Cenn Faelad frowned. ‘The journey to see Ardgal of the Cinél Cairpre … that I can understand. But why Delbna Mór? There is nothing there but a few farmsteads and a religious community run by Bishop Luachan.’
‘It is Bishop Luachan I wish to see.’
Cenn Faelad shook his head to express his bewilderment. ‘How long do you intend to be away from Tara?’
‘No more than a few days.’
‘And you can tell me nothing as to how things are progressing?’
‘I can only say that they are progressing in spite of the inability of some to volunteer information. Getting at the facts has been like drawing teeth, and that applies to some I would not have expected to be reticent.’
‘Are you referring to Brehon Barrán?’ smiled the young King confidently.
Fidelma raised an eyebrow in surprise. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘Barrán is a good man, a fine man and wise counsel. That is why I am nominating him as my tánaiste. But like all professional men he is jealous of his abilities and reputation. That was why he may be reticent in responding to your questions. He told me that he had neglected to keep you fully informed.’
‘He told you?’
‘Of course. He is an honest man. He warned me that you might be criticising him because of his choice to pursue a diplomatic frugality of information.’
‘Is that how he sees it?’
‘You heard him say that it was the Great Assembly that decided we should send for a Brehon or dálaigh who was unconnected with our Uí Néill family? As Chief Brehon, he felt the investigation of the High King’s death should have been his. In honesty, I think he resented your coming to take charge of it.’
‘That is a natural enough response, I suppose,’ replied Fidelma, unperturbed.
‘Indeed,’ Abbot Colmán joined in. ‘But I understand that you have both reached an understanding now.’
‘I hope we have.’
‘Irél has told me of the flight of Cuan, a member of the Fianna,’ said Cenn Faelad. ‘I advised him to report that matter to you. I hope it is not because of him that you leave? Irél could easily send warriors to overtake him and bring him back, no matter where he is hiding.’
‘There are other things that must claim my attention.’
‘So you are not concerned with Cuan?’
‘I am very much concerned with Cuan. He was part of the conspiracy and he deliberately acted as a decoy, getting Lugna to desert his post that night. Furthermore, he took your key to a smith and had it copied.’
‘So it was Cuan?’ Cenn Faelad started in surprise. ‘That is a serious charge.’
‘Which is obviously why he fled,’ confirmed Fidelma.
‘Yet you stop Irél from the pursuit. Why?’
‘As I have said, I have other matters to attend to. Cuan is heading west.If my suspicions are correct, I think that we may well encounter him before too long.’
Cenn Faelad gave her a hard look. ‘Do you know something that you are not telling me?’
She shook her head. ‘If I knew anything of pertinence, I would tell you. But it is no use to theorise at this stage.’
‘Who are you taking on your trip?’
‘Eadulf, of course, and Caol and Gormán, the warriors who accompanied me from Cashel.’
‘Only two warriors? Come, I can give you a cóicat, a company of fifty warriors, or a céit, a hundred warriors, to escort you.’
Fidelma, smiling, declined. ‘It will not be necessary.’
‘Then take Irél, at least, for he has the authority of the Fianna behind him.’
She shook her head decisively. ‘As we started out, so we’ll go on, Cenn Faelad. It is better. But an authority from you might be welcome. Will you provide me with a wand of office on your behalf, in order that I can act accordingly when we get to the territory of the Cinél Cairpre?’
‘Willingly.’ Cenn Faelad gestured to Abbot Colmán. The latter moved to a locked cupboard that he opened with a key, and withdrew a wooden box. The box was locked also and another key opened it. From it he took a small wand of white rowan wood on which was fixed, at one end, a small upraised golden hand — the symbol of the Ui Néill. He handed it to Cenn Faelad solemnly.
The tánaiste held it out to her.
‘By this wand you derive authority from the High Kings of Tara and speak with my voice,’ he intoned the ancient formula.
Fidelma took the symbol and bowed her head slightly, remembering that the last time she had received such an emblem was from her brother when she had gone to Gleann Geis — the valley of the shadow.4 It seemed so long ago.
‘I will not dishonour it,’ she said quietly.
‘And may it not dishonour you,’ Cenn Faelad replied. Then, more brightly: ‘When do you set out?’
‘At first light in the morning. We might be able to reach Delbna Mór by evening tomorrow.’
‘Have you good horses? If there is anything I can provide, you need only ask.’
‘We have everything we want.’
‘Then, success to the journey and may we see you back safely as soon as possible.’
‘Tonight we shall have a special feasting,’ Abbot Colmán added, ‘to wish you well on the journey.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The territory of Delbna Mór lay mainly along the east bank of the dark waters of the River Daoil, which fed through a tiny loch that was named Diseart after the hermitage that had been built there. The ecclesiastical centre was located in picturesque wooded territory. Apart from the wooden church among a group of similarly constructed buildings, there was little else to distinguish it from the various settlements that were scattered throughout the hilly countryside.
Fidelma and Eadulf, with Caol and Gormán behind them, rode up the track towards what appeared to be the main building beside the wooden church. As they did so, they became aware of groups of religious emerging from the buildings in twos and threes.
Caol coughed discreatly to attract Fidelma’s attention.
‘Don’t worry,’ she called quietly to him. ‘I have noticed.’
Eadulf then realised that every one of the brethren was carrying a weapon of some description and their expressions were certainly not welcoming.
‘They don’t seem very friendly,’ he muttered.
‘Perhaps they are just very frightened,’ replied Fidelma as they came to a halt at the main building.
A short, stocky man, red of face and breathless, came forward and stared at them. He was middle-aged and was not armed. However, he was quickly joined by a young man who took a position by his side and his hand nervously fingered a sword.
‘What is your business here?’ the stocky man demanded harshly. There was neither customary greeting nor invitation to dismount.
Fidelma regarded him in silence for a moment and remained seated on her horse. Then she glanced at his companion with the sword before returning her gaze to the speaker.