Bishop Ségdae was nodding sympathetically.
‘It is as Capa says,’ he said heavily for Brehon Dathal’s benefit. Then he turned to the warrior. ‘I suppose that you have asked throughout the township and surrounding countryside whether anyone recognised the description of the child given by Caol?’
‘It was my first thought to make such enquiries, lord,’ replied Capa.
‘In that case,’ Colgú intervened ‘that is all, Gobnat. Thank you for attending.’ He glanced at Capa. ‘Would you bring in Conchoille?’
The woodsman who came to stand before them was of an indiscernible age, neither young nor elderly. He was muscular beneath his leather jerkin and his clear nut-brown skin demonstrated that he pursued an outdoor life. He displayed no awe at being confronted by the most prominent men of the kingdom.
‘We just want to record the circumstances in which you found the body of Sárait,’ Colgú said.
The man folded his arms across a broad chest and gazed thoughtfully at them.
‘I have told the story several times.’
Brehon Dathal’s brows gathered in an angry frown and he opened his mouth to speak but Bishop Ségdae, turning a broad smile on the man, spoke first.
‘Indulge us by telling it one more time and we will try to make this the last.’
Conchoille shrugged indifferently. ‘There is little to tell. I had been cutting wood by the place known as the rath of quarrels, south of here-’
‘We know the place, Conchoille,’ snapped Brehon Dathal testily. ‘It is not much more than a mile south from here.’
‘I had finished my day’s work,’ went on the woodsman, unperturbed. ‘By the time I finished clearing up it was dark and so I set off for the township.’
Brehon Dathal leant forward quickly. ‘It is dark in the late afternoon at this time of year. We have heard that it was shortly before midnight that you knocked on the door of Capa and Gobnat’s cabin with news of your discovery. Now, estimating the time you finished work and set off for the township, and the time you spent presumably at the place where you found the body, even a slow walker would have been knocking at Capa’s cabin many hours before you did so. Explain this anomaly?’
Conchoille looked in bemusement at the elderly judge. ‘I do not understand such big words. Should I not be allowed to tell the tale in my own way?’
Brehon Dathal looked scandalised at the retort. Once more Colgú decided to intervene.
‘We are interested in the truth but I can understand Brehon Dathal’s question,’ he said. ‘Why did you take so long to get from your place of work, find the body and arrive at Capa’s house?’
‘Along the path before you enter the dark patch of woods is the inn of Ferloga. I no longer have a wife. It is my custom, therefore, at the end of my day’s work to have my evening meal and a drink in Ferloga’s inn if I am in that vicinity. So there I ate, and after I had exchanged a story or two with Ferloga I continued my journey to the village. I have told this story before.’ He glanced with meaning at the elderly Brehon Dathal.
‘Continue,’ prompted Colgú.
‘The path beyond the lantern that lights the sign of Ferloga’s inn is dark, especially where it winds into the woods.’
‘Did you not have a lantern?’ queried Brehon Dathal pedantically.
The woodsman looked pained. ‘Only a fool would not carry a lantern through the woods at that time. Remember that we have plenty of wolves roaming those woodlands.’
‘I just want it made clear in the record,’ snapped Brehon Dathal defensively.
‘I had a lantern and it was lit,’ returned Conchoille solemnly. ‘I was coming to the outskirts of the township when I tripped over something on the path. I raised my lantern and saw that it was a shawl. A shawl of good quality, so I bent to pick it up. The first thing I realised was that it was bloodstained. Then the edge of the circle of light from the lantern caught something white on the ground. It was an arm. Then, as I moved nearer, I saw the body … it was Sárait. She was dead.’
‘And you knew it was Sárait?’ queried Bishop Ségdae.
Conchoille sighed deeply. ‘Everyone in the village knew Sárait. She was a fine, comely woman and a widow. Many men would start counting how much they could afford by way of a coibche when their eyes fell on her.’
A coibche was the principal dowry paid by the prospective husband to the bride’s family. After a year, the bride’s father had to give one third to the girl who retained this as her personal property.
‘Were you able to see how she had died?’ asked Eadulf.
‘Not then. Only that there was blood about the head.’
‘What did you do then?’ demanded Brehon Dathal.
‘I ran to raise the alarm. I went directly to the house of Capa. I knew he was husband to Gobnat, Sárait’s sister. Capa ordered his wife to remain in the cabin while he came with me, and along the way we saw someone making their way to the palace so Capa told him to raise the guard there. Capa and I carried the body back to his cabin. It was in the light of the cabin that we saw that the head had been battered and there were some stab wounds in the chest. Later, when Caol and his guards arrived, we heard that Sárait had left the fortress with the baby, Alchú. We returned to the woods and searched but there was no sign of the child.’
Capa was nodding slowly in agreement.
This is true,’ he intervened. ‘I had no idea about the missing baby until Caol told me. Some neighbours, who had heard the commotion, joined us. It was clear that Sárait had not been killed by wild woodland animals, which is what we first thought when Conchoille told us that he had found her body. As he said, we went back to the spot and searched by lantern light but there was no sign of the baby. We searched again at first light but once more there was nothing to be found. Men were despatched the next day to spread the word, riding east to Gabrán, south to Lios Mhór, west to Cnoc Loinge and north to Durlas.’
Brother Eadulf had been sitting, head forward, listening to the evidence that he had already heard in emotional exchanges with Fidelma during the last two days. But now he felt more detached, as if he were hearing the facts for the first time. A thought occurred to him.
‘Conchoille, you have said that you were working to the south of the township?’
‘I did.’
‘And you came across Sárait’s body towards the edge of the woods, south of the township as you were returning to it?’
‘That is what I said.’
Brother Eadulf rubbed his chin reflectively.
‘What is it, Eadulf?’ queried Colgú.
‘I can confirm that Conchoille led us to a spot on the track south of the township,’ Capa put in, looking curiously at the Saxon.
‘We seem to be overlooking a curious puzzle here,’ Eadulf said slowly.
‘I don’t see-’ began Brehon Dathal officiously.
‘This fortress stands to the north of the township, correct? You leave the gateway, as Sárait did with the baby, and walk down along the track which leads to the township, and she was found south of the township on the track beyond?’
Brehon Dathal exhaled impatiently. ‘What is your point?’
It was Finguine, the tanist, who had said nothing so far in the council, who spoke. His voice was tinged with bewilderment.
‘I understand the point. Sárait had been summoned urgently to her sister, Gobnat. Gobnat lives in the township.’
‘But Gobnat said she had not summoned her,’ Brehon Dathal pointed out.
True. But Sárait did not know that. Why, then, did she go through the township to be found murdered beyond it in the woods? Why take the child so far? What persuaded her to go past her sister’s house?’
There was a silence. Then Brehon Dathal smiled as if explaining to an idiot.
‘She must either have been forced to do so or she knew the message did not come from her sister.’