Eadulf frowned. ‘How would that be possible?’
‘You know how things work among us, Brother Eadulf? The derbhfine chooses a chief from the bloodline but he must be worthy. He must promote the welfare of his people. He has to govern under the law and, should he not conform to the wishes and welfare of his people, should he become negligent or despotic, then he could easily be replaced. Only the most worthy can succeed and remain as chief.’
Eadulf knew the system but it was not what he meant.
‘Do you mean that Dubh Duin held views about religion that were not support by the Cinél Cairpre? I have heard that they too clung to the old traditions.’
‘I have not travelled in the country of the Cinél Cairpre for some years now,’ Brother Céin said, ‘but when I was there last, most of those I encountered were Christian, while only some of the older folk still adhered to the gods of Danú.’
‘The Old Faith?’ pressed Eadulf.
‘The Old Faith,’ confirmed the steward. ‘It is often difficult for some to leave the old path for the new.’
Fidelma was silent. If chieftains like Dubh Duin or his successor Ardgal were involved in backing these raiding bands, and were connected with Sechnussach’s assassination, then she was looking at what had already developed into a rebellion against the High King and perhaps the onset of a civil war. But it would be a civil war like no other, for its terms would be defined by which religion the people supported. It was a frightening thought.
‘Yet with all his fears, Bishop Luachan went alone to answer the call of a sick farmer’s wife,’ Eadulf pointed out.
‘Bishop Luachan is a kind man, a generous man and one who takes his calling as both priest and healer seriously,’ replied Brother Céin.
Fidelma held out her hand for the oil lamp.
‘You brought us here to examine this chamber. Having come thus far, I shall look at it.’
Brother Eadulf immediately shook his head.
‘I shall go in — who knows what wild beasts may have found this entrance and decided it was a warm nest? Wolves and even bears, perhaps. This is the time for brown bears to hibernate.’
‘We don’t often see brown bears in this country now,’ Fidelma told him. ‘But there are certainly wolves about, though they hardly make their lairs in human habitations — even deserted ones.’
‘Nevertheless, I’d prefer to go first,’ insisted Eadulf.
Fidelma decided not to argue. ‘Very well, you go first and I will follow.’
Eadulf moved down into the narrow passageway and began to crawl along, one hand holding the spluttering oil lamp before him. The floor was of sandy clay but it was quite dry and hard. The ceiling was low, the walls narrow — definitely not the place for anyone with claustrophobia. He remembered that Brother Céin had warned him that the passageway would drop to another level, and he thought this just in time, for he had been so busy looking up at the narrowing roof that he almost came to the drop before he noticed. He paused and called back a warning to Fidelma. He could hear her scrambling along behind him.
As he looked cautiously at the drop he suddenly noticed that a candle stub stood on a stone by it. Bishop Luachan had doubtless left it on his excursion into this peculiar uaimh. Eadulf lit it from his lamp so that Fidelma, following him, would be able to see the drop. Then he descended to the next level which was more easily negotiated than he had anticipated, since, albeit awkward, the drop was only a waist-high one. He turned along the new tunnel and found it sloping upwards slightly before emerging into the curious stone-walled chamber. As Brother Céin had said, it was a beehive shape, almost conical, and he was able to stand up in it quite easily. A moment later, Fidelma joined him.
The flickering light of the oil lamp caused a myriad of shadows to dance on the walls as they peered around. The walls were filled with strange carvings, lines of spiral patterns and odd symbols.
‘This place is very ancient,’ Fidelma observed, finding herself whispering.
‘What would it be used for, if not as a storage place for some nearby dwelling?’ asked Eadulf.
Fidelma had moved forward to a place where stones had been grouped to form a box-like area on the ground at one end. A large flat stone was discarded nearby and it took her only a moment to see that this was the lid. She had seen ancient graves formed much the same way, but this was too tiny to hold any human remains.
‘I think that is where Bishop Luachan must have found the silver disk,’ she said.
Holding the lamp high, Eadulf bent down to examine the receptacle.
‘Are you saying that we are in some ancient pagan temple?’ he asked, a little apprehensively. Eadulf had been converted to the New Faith when he was a youth, but emotionally still felt the power of the old gods and goddesses of his people.
‘I think it was a sacred place. Perhaps not a place for people to worship. Have you noticed that some of these walls have carvings on them?’
Eadulf had certainly noticed the strange motifs that spread around the interior. The shadows were not simply cast by the lamp but came from deep grooves in the rocks, depicting curious faces and symbols.
‘Do they mean anything?’ he asked, suppressing a shudder.
‘Probably to someone who can read the signs of the old religion.’ Fidelma pointed to the flat stone lid. ‘Do you see the carving on the topof this stone? I know what that represents: it is the sign of the old sun god, the symbol of knowledge and wisdom.’
Eadulf peered down. From a central point, it appeared as if three arms or legs emerged and each arm had a little tail which gave the symbol its momentum.
‘Is this why Bishop Luachan felt that he had discovered the ancient wheel of fate which Brother Céin mentioned?’
‘It is logical,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘I have seen this motif many times on old coins, and even on one of the ancient crowns of the High Kings.’
At that moment, they heard Brother Céin’s voice echoing faintly from above, apparently anxious that they were so long in the chamber.
Fidelma gave a last look round. ‘Well, we can learn no more here,’ she said.
‘Was there anything to learn?’ Eadulf asked with a sigh.
Fidelma looked at him reprovingly. ‘There is always something to learn, and everything is interrelated in life, Eadulf, you must know that. An investigation is like unpicking a tapestry, tracing a strand here, and one there; sometimes they are not joined and you have to come back to the start; sometimes they are joined and you can move onwards.’
‘Do you really think there is some connection here?’ he asked doubtfully. ‘That this is where the motivation for Sechnussach’s assassination originated?’
‘Too early to say. We only know that Bishop Luachan made a find here. He took it to Sechnussach. The latter was assassinated and the item is now missing. Then Brother Diomasach, who helped make the find, was killed and now Bishop Luachan himself is missing.’
‘So …?’
‘So before any conclusions can be drawn, we need to find more information.’
‘But the only person who can give us that information is Bishop Luachan himself,’ Eadulf pointed out.
Brother Céin was calling again.
‘Let us hope that he is still living and that we may find him, then,’ Fidelma replied briskly, before turning to the passageway and beginning to move back out of the chamber.
Eadulf glanced around a final time. The grotesque carvings seemed to unite, their distorted features staring down at him accusingly from his own pre-Christian past.
He shuddered and quickly followed Fidelma.
It was good to be back out in the light.
Brother Céin was waiting anxiously for them. ‘Well?’ he asked. ‘Does the place tell you anything? Did it help at all?’
Fidelma grimaced. ‘It only supports your story about Bishop Luachan and his discovery, but has revealed little else.’