‘We have already seen the position that Prince Donennach has been presented with,’ Eadulf said.
‘A fronte praecipitium, a tergo lupi,’ Fidelma observed quietly.
Seeing Conri’s frown, Eadulf translated: ‘A precipice in front, wolves behind. Whatever decision Prince Donennach makes, he will be faced with war; an internal war among the Ui Fidgente or a war against Cashel. And we have only nine nights to avert it.’
CHAPTER NINE
‘It is time we talked,’ Eadulf announced.
The couple were alone in their chamber and should have been asleep but they were both finding it difficult to clear their minds and compose themselves. It was a warm summer night. Fidelma had been standing by the window gazing up at the star-sparkling sky above the distant hills which were lit by the white-blue haze of the moon. Eadulf was stretched on his back on the bed, his head pillowed by his clasped hands.
‘I thought we had been talking most of the day,’ she replied. Eadulf heard the faint amusement in her voice. He eased himself up to a sitting position.
‘Every time I go over the facts as they have been told to us, I cannot see any way of escaping the inevitable explanation: that Gorman is guilty of this crime.’
Fidelma swung round from her position to face him. The light from the night sky through the window caused her to see him almost clearly whereas she stood against the light, showing only the silhouette of her figure.
‘Do you really believe that he could do such a thing?’ she asked.
‘I would say no, but there is no alternative explanation,’ he replied.
‘One explanation is that someone is not telling us the truth.’
‘But who?’ Eadulf asked. ‘The events, as we have been told them by witnesses, allow for no doubt or difference in interpretation.’
‘Abbot Nannid would argue that it is because the facts are the facts, and Gorman is guilty.’
‘Yet putting the facts together as we know them, together with Gorman’s character, is difficult for me. We all have the capability of killing in the right circumstances. Gorman is a trained warrior, commander of your brother’s bodyguard. It is true that he has killed in battle. But he is imbued with a warrior’s honour code and in these circumstances …’ He ended by raising his arms in a helpless gesture.
‘So having reached an impasse between the facts and your assessment of his character, what would you propose?’ Fidelma asked.
‘I don’t know, truly I don’t. Maybe we must hope that Gorman escapes and that is an end to it.’
‘You mean that Gorman simply vanishes into permanent exile?’
‘That would be a solution.’
‘But what kind of solution? Is it a solution for Della, his mother? Is it a solution for Gorman, or for Aibell? It would mean that they become fugitives for the rest their lives.’
‘But it would be a means to stop the ensuing conflict.’
‘That, I doubt. Abbot Nannid would say that Gorman’s escape underlines his guilt, and force Prince Donennach to demand compensation from Cashel. Cashel would refuse and …’
‘But according to your law any reparation should go to Imleach, not to the Ui Fidgente.’
‘That is true to an extent. However, because the murder happened in the fortress of the Prince of the Ui Fidgente, it is an affront to his hospitality and he could demand compensation.’
‘But would he?’ asked Eadulf.
‘As I said, he might be forced to it,’ countered Fidelma. ‘Abbot Nannid is already manipulating him into following his lead.’
‘What do we have to defend Gorman with? Only our belief that it is not in his character to commit murder, especially to kill a churchman that he knew well.’
‘That is a start,’ she replied without enthusiasm.
‘Faced with this situation, at what point does one abandon the search for truth to prevent conflict and bloodshed?’
‘When truth is found,’ Fidelma said firmly.
‘So you do not think that we have heard the truth?’
‘As you have just pointed out, when the facts are so cut and dried, but are in conflict with character, then something is amiss. Why do you think that Brehon Faolchair purposely created errors in preparing this case?’
‘Because he also wanted to prevent conflict,’ Eadulf said simply.
‘Just that? I think he knows that something more sinister is happening here.’
‘The overthrow of Donennach? Brehon Faolchair would not want to see the law of the land supplanted by these Penitentials from Rome.’
‘You are right, Eadulf. I suspect that Faolchair believes the murder of Abbot Segdae, especially the circumstances in which it happened, might have been done by design.’
‘How is that possible?’ Eadulf asked. ‘Gorman’s arrival here was not planned. He came to warn the prince about Glaed, and we are told that it was only when Donennach didn’t show an interest that, on learning that Abbot Segdae was here, Gorman went to protest to him. I believe that chance has more than a hand in this.’
‘That is a puzzling thing. Where did the story that Donennach was not interested in the potential threat from Glaed come from? Both Donennach and Conri have confirmed that Glaed was perceived as a real threat.’
Eadulf stirred uncomfortably. ‘I had forgotten that with everything that has been happening. You do well to remind me.’
‘So you see, not all is as cut and dried as we have been led to believe. There are still contradictory matters.’
‘Even Gorman and Aibell’s story does not come from a first-hand account but from Ciarnat.’ Eadulf was beginning to sound excited. ‘Didn’t you find it strange that she was waiting for us along the road to tell us her account of events before we reached this place? Could she have gone to that spot in answer to the signal fires? When Conri and his warriors came to meet us, why did she not wait but was on her horse and away into the woods so that she would not be seen?’
In the gloom of the bedchamber, Fidelma crossed to a small table, picked up a beaker of water and took a swallow.
‘In retrospect, I wish I had gone to see Gorman immediately, and Aibell also, but the value of the well is often not realised until after it has dried up.’
‘Then what can we do? We have examined all the witnesses.’
‘There are still a few people that I would like to talk with. We will start tomorrow.’
‘Who, for instance?’
‘With the only member of the guest-hostel that we have not yet spoken to – Brother Mael Anfaid.’
‘But he was not there at the time of the killing,’ Eadulf objected.
‘Neither was Brother Mac Raith, but the information he gave us was useful.’
As Eadulf gave a low puzzled sigh, she crossed to the bed. ‘Now we must try to sleep for I am thinking we will have a long day tomorrow.’
The sun was already bright and the day promised to be very warm when Fidelma and Eadulf, having had the morning ablutions, went to the feasting hall. To their surprise only Prince Donennach and Brehon Faolchair were finishing their breakfast. Attendants approached but there was no need for them as the guests could help themselves. A jug of apple juice stood on the table. There was a choice of hard-boiled goose eggs, a hard cheese known as tanag, and a sausage that Eadulf had not encountered before.
‘It is called longin boshaille,’ offered Brehon Faolchair when Eadulf hesitated, examining it. ‘It’s finely cut ox meat, stuffed in an ox gullet, spiced with wild garlic and thyme and cooked as a sausage. Often the meat is salted.’
Besides these dishes was eorna, the barley bread, and gruiten, salt butter. To finish was logg di shubuip, a bowl of wild strawberries and a pile of apples. They chose their food and took their seats. After some time had passed in silence, Prince Donennach glanced moodily at Fidelma and spoke.