The son of Gulban looked from Fidelma to Eadulf and spread his hands helplessly.
‘He accuses me of some conspiracy.’
‘Your father Gulban has conspired with the Ui Fidgenti to overthrow Cashel.’
‘My father?’ Olcán was bitter. ‘My father does not confide his plans in me. Am I to be blamed because I am my father’s son?’
‘Not for that reason but Adnár claims that you were involved in this conspiracy with Torcán. Are you denying that you know anything about this plot? Even though your friend Torcán was involved in it?’
Olcán’s face was an angry mask.
‘Torcán was a guest of my father’s. It was my father’s wish that I accompanied him to hunt and fish. I was asked to keep him company and extend every courtesy to him.’
‘Why did you come to the abbey the other day and question me and then go to see Odar on the Gaulish ship and question him?’
‘Because Torcán asked me to do so.’
The reply surprised Fidelma.
‘Do you obey Torcán without demanding an explanation as to why you should be an errand boy for him?’
‘No, it was not like that. Torcán said that he suspected that you and Ross were plotting something … He thought that you had interfered with Adnar’s right of salvage compensation for the Gaulish ship.’
‘And you believed that?’
‘I knew that there was something strange happening at this place. I knew that you and Ross seemed to be part of it.’
‘Are you saying that you heard nothing about the insurrection until Adnár had you imprisoned?’
‘Truly. I was asleep in my bed yesterday morning when Adnár had his men wake and bring me here. Then he came by later that day and told me that he had killed Torcán. He told me that my father, Torcán and Eoganán of the Uí Fidgenti had been in some plot together to overthrow Cashel. By the holy cross of Christ, sister, I am not interested in power or principalities. I knew nothing of it.’
Fidelma shook her head wonderingly.
‘Your story is so weak, Olcán, that you might just betelling the truth. A conspirator, indeed, a murderer, would tend to weave some more elaborate tale.’
Eadulf looked at Fidelma with surprise. He had been thinking just how guilty Olcán’s tale had sounded.
‘Fidelma,’ he interrupted, ‘we have heard from Sister Comnat that Gulban’s capital was a military camp where Torcan was training Gulban’s men. How could Olcán not have been aware of this?’
‘I have not seen my father for several months. We do not mix well together. I have already explained that.’
‘How long have you been a guest of Adnár?’ Fidelma asked.
‘I arrived here two days before you. I think I mentioned as much to you previously.’
‘So you were not here when the headless corpse was found at the abbey?’
‘No. I told you so.’
‘Where were you before that?’
‘I was a guest of the chieftain of the clan of Duibhne.’
‘For how long?’
‘For three months.’
‘We have only to send to the chieftain of the Duibhne to verify this.’
‘By all means do so. I have nothing to hide.’
‘So when did you return to the Beara?’
‘A few days before I came to Adnár. I came more or less straight here knowing my welcome by Adnár would be better than any welcome my father would give me. He has already adopted a cousin of mine as tánaiste, his heir-elect. I have no ambitions among my father’s clan.’
‘Then how was Gulban able to ask you to play host to Torcán?’ Eadulf demanded.
‘It was the morning after Fidelma arrived here that Torcán arrived bringing a written message from my father requesting me to accompany him while he was hunting in the area. My father knew my preference lay in hunting rather than anyother pursuit. I probably still have the message in my baggage.’
‘And you heard no talk or rumours of conspiracy or insurrection?’
‘None, I swear it!’
‘How did Adnár come to learn of the plot against Cashel?’ pressed Eadulf.
‘I presume he heard it from Torcán or one of his men. I don’t know.’
‘But, he said …’ began Eadulf.
There was a sound at the cell door and Brother Febal stood in the entrance. There was anger on his handsome features.
‘What is the meaning of this? What right have you to be here, sister?’ he demanded, recognising Fidelma. ‘This young man is a prisoner of Adnár. He is accused of plotting against Cashel.’
‘I have the right to question him by reason of my rank and authority,’ Fidelma replied calmly. ‘You should know that, Febal.’
‘I can’t allow it without approval of Adnár.’
‘You do not have to.’ Fidelma gazed thoughtfully for a moment at Olcán. ‘I have finished with you, Olcán. Soon this matter will be heard before the chief Brehon of the Loigde. Until then you will have to put up with this new accommodation.’
‘But I am innocent!’ protested Olcán.
‘Then look on this passing misfortune as a test,’ Fidelma smiled. ‘Seneca, in De Providentia, warns us: ignis aurum probat, miseria fortes viros. Fire tests gold; adversity strong men. May you prove to be strong.’
She left the cell, followed by Eadulf.
Brother Febal followed them, motioning the guard to shut the door again.
‘I will have to report this to Adnár.’
‘Everyone in this fortress is now answerable to the Loigde warship anchored in the inlet and to Beccan, the chief judgeof the Loigde, acting as the voice of Bran Finn, your chieftain. Then it will not be up to Adnár to approve or disapprove. At the hearing we will discover the truth of these tragedies.’
Brother Febal regarded her resentfully.
‘There is no one more anxious than I am for that time. Then everything that I have said about Draigen will be brought into the open.’
Before he could say anything further, Fidelma had led Eadulf back in the direction of the small jetty outside the fortress. She surprised Eadulf by asking the waiting boatmen to row them back to the Gaulish merchant ship and once there asking Odar to join them.
‘I want you to take me to see that farmer from whom you obtained the horses,’ she told him.
‘Barr?’
‘Yes, that is the man. Is it far from here?’
‘A moderate walk across the mountain but easily done if we take it steadily,’ answered the sailor.
Barr was a stocky little man with a bushy brown beard and gave the impression of never washing. His clothes were as dirty as his face. He was hoeing a small patch of ground when they arrived. He regarded them with small dark eyes in a round face that caused Fidelma to think that a pig was handsome by comparison.
‘Odar,’ the farmer greeted in a gruff voice, ‘if you have come to trade for horses again, I have sold them. Cuirm is better comfort to me than horses during this cold winter.’
‘It is not for horses that we have come, Barr,’ Fidelma said.
The man waited, a questioning look on his face.
‘Have you found your daughter yet?’
The man gave a bark of laughter.
‘I have no daughter. What …’
His eyes went wide and a flush of guilt spread across his cheeks. Clearly Barr was not a good liar.
‘Why did you tell the abbess that your daughter was missing?’
Barr stood confused.
‘You were told to go to the abbey, weren’t you?’
‘There was nothing wrong in it,’ protested the farmer. ‘The young man told me to go and ask to see a corpse, pretending that my daughter had gone missing and that I was anxious to identify whether it was her or not.’
‘Of course. He offered you money?’
‘Enough to buy three good horses.’ The farmer pulled a face. ‘You see, I bargained with him. He was most anxious for my services.’
‘And exactly what were you supposed to do?’