They left Ceit as the guard commander set about following the orders of the warlord, and they went to the great hall.
Prince Donennach and Brehon Faolchair were just entering the hall as they came in.
‘Have you heard?’ were Brehon Faolchair’s opening words.
‘I have,’ replied Fidelma grimly. ‘Abbot Nannid has imprisoned Gorman in the abbey and refuses to hand him over.’
‘For the time being,’ Prince Donennach added.
‘Eadulf has just told us that Abbot Nannid had a secret meeting with Glaed and his marauders, and that it was Glaed himself who handed over Gorman as prisoner to him,’ said the Brehon.
‘The escort that Abbot Nannid brought into this township were four of Glaed’s men,’ Conri said curtly. ‘We should prepare for the worst.’
Prince Donennach slumped into his chair. His pale and strained features showed his apprehension.
‘How do you know this?’ he asked.
‘We saw them together,’ replied Conri.
‘We have witnessed the destruction wreaked by his marauders,’ Fidelma told the prince. ‘A woodsman was killed and his cabin burned. A farm was likewise fired, animals stolen for food for the band, and the farmer and his wife both killed. We managed to rescue Aibell, but Gorman was captured by Glaed and then handed over to Nannid, who seemed most friendly with the robber chief.’
‘And the guard who was bribed to help Gorman escape from here, and then escaped himself, is also one of Glaed’s men,’ put in Conri.
‘So Abbot Nannid is working in collusion with Glaed to overthrow Prince Donennach?’ It was a terrible shock. Brehon Faolchair was aghast.
‘The abbot has the right to be called to account and explain his own involvement,’ Fidelma stated. ‘He must now release Gorman to the custody of Brehon Faolchair.’
‘I have already been to the Abbey of Nechta to demand custody,’ Brehon Faolchair said helplessly. ‘He refused.’
‘I heard the story from Ceit.’ Fidelma was angrier than she had ever been in her entire life.
Brehon Faolchair’s cheeks assumed a red glow of mortification as Fidelma ignored him and spoke directly to Prince Donennach. ‘I suggest that you send your bodyguard to disturb Abbot Nannid’s rest.’ Without waiting for an answer, she added: ‘I will withdraw so that my companions and I can refresh ourselves after our journey here. On my return I shall expect to see Abbot Nannid and his steward here before you, explaining themselves, and Gorman placed in your custody.’
She did not even wait for an acknowledgement from the depressed-looking prince but stormed out of the hall and made for the guests’ rooms. Eadulf and Aibell were waiting for her; they had been joined by Enda. A young female attendant was standing by, looking nervous.
‘We want water for washing,’ Fidelma demanded in ill-humour and when the girl had hurried off, she said to her companions, ‘Eadulf, you and Enda will share the room next to mine. Aibell will stay here with me. I do not want any of us separated until we have sorted out this mystery.’
They had washed and changed by the time there came a discreet knock on the door of their chamber. It was the young girl attendant.
‘If it please you, lady,’ the young girl mumbled, ‘Prince Donennach requests that you and Brother Eadulf join him in the great hall.’
‘Is Abbot Nannid in attendance?’ she asked.
‘He is, lady,’ confirmed the girl.
‘Is the warrior Gorman there also?’
‘I overheard Ceit saying that Abbot Nannid has refused to hand him to the custody of Brehon Faolchair. But will you come, lady? They are waiting.’
‘We’ll be there directly.’ Fidelma turned to Enda, saying, ‘Aibell had better stay out of the way. If Abbot Nannid has presented himself without Gorman, then he must have some secret plan, so if you think there is any danger, I’ll leave it to you to exercise good judgement.’
‘You may trust me, lady,’ the young warrior replied.
As they went down to the great hall, Fidelma confided in her husband, saying, ‘I am not sure what astounds me more – the fact that Abbot Nannid has the boldness to present himself before Prince Donennach or that he apparently defies him.’
‘Something is not right,’ Eadulf agreed. ‘As you say, it seems that he has some strategy of which we are ignorant.’
The atmosphere of the gathering in the great hall was tense.
Prince Donennach, still looking exhausted, slumped in his chair of office. His sister, Airmid, sat next to him; Brehon Faolchair in front and just below the dais as protocol dictated. Conri stood behind his prince as usual, but there were several other warriors stationed in the hall, with Ceit among them. At the table, predictably, were Prior Cuan with his steward, Brother Tuaman, seated to the left, while to the right sat Abbot Nannid and his steward, Brother Cuaneain. The abbot did not seem a whit abashed and wore a complacent smile on his thin features.
‘Where is Gorman?’ Fidelma demanded immediately, barely glancing at Abbot Nannid.
It was the steward, Brother Cuineain, who replied. ‘Where he should have been all this time. In a cell awaiting punishment.’
‘You have no right to hold him in the abbey,’ Brehon Faolchair told them. It sounded as if he had raised the point before.
Abbot Nannid rose to his feet. ‘Since you have been negligent in pursuing the interests of justice by allowing a base murderer to escape, it behoves me to protect our people, both physically as well as spiritually,’ he declared.
‘Does your spiritual and physical protection involve dealing with a bunch of brigands, thieves and cut-throats?’ Fidelma decided to get straight to the heart of the matter. ‘There are witnesses to your meeting with Glaed of Sliabh Luachra at the Hill of Truth. Following that meeting, Glaed handed you his prisoner, Gorman, and you came here with four of Glaed’s ne’er-do-wells as your escort.’
There was a moment’s silence and then, to everyone’s surprise, Abbot Nannid started to chuckle. Even Brother Cuineain looked puzzled for a moment and then, as the abbot continued to laugh, he seemed to feel that he should join him with a wan smile.
Brehon Faolchair finally leaned forward and said firmly: ‘This is a serious charge, Abbot Nannid. Glaed is not only a thief and killer but he is an enemy to the Ui Fidgente and a threat to the peace of this princedom. Do you admit that you met with him and his marauders and had dealings with him?’
Abbot Nannid said, ‘I mean no disrespect to you, Prince Donennach. I am simply amused by the feeble attempts of the sister of the King of Cashel who, a few years ago, waded in the blood of the Ui Fidgente on Cnoc Aine, to claim that I am an enemy to my own people!’
Prince Donennach raised his head to look long and hard at the abbot. ‘You deny that you met Glaed and had dealings with him?’
‘I have every intention of telling you the truth of that encounter.’
‘Then before you do,’ intervened Brehon Faolchair, ‘let me say that it is not merely the lady, Fidelma of Cashel, who brings evidence of this event but Conri, warlord of the Ui Fidgente, who was with Fidelma and her companions as a witness.’
Brother Cuineain made a lewd sound. ‘It is well known that lord Conri of the Ford of Oaks has been an intimate of the lady Fidelma for many years.’
Eadulf was on his feet amid the gasps of disapproval from those present. He was so enraged that he ignored the protocol that he could not speak until invited.
‘I could forget I wear the cloth of the New Faith long enough to disobey the ruling of Our Lord and not turn the other cheek,’ he snarled.
Abbot Nannid rose to his feet and threw out a protective arm as if to shield his steward from attack.
‘Peace, Brother Eadulf,’ he said mockingly. ‘You misinterpret the words of poor Brother Cuainean. Let us put it down to your Saxon lack of fluency in our good tongue.’
It was Conri himself who responded. ‘I did not misinterpret the words, Nannid, so do not accuse me of a lack of fluency in my mother’s speech. Also, friend Eadulf speaks our tongue as well as any native of the Five Kingdoms.’