Dancing With Demons (6 page)

Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_NB_Fixed, #_rt_yes, #Adult, #blt, #Clerical Sleuth, #Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery, #Suspense, #Medieval Ireland

BOOK: Dancing With Demons

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CHAPTER FOUR

W
hen their presence at the gates of the royal enclosure was announced, it was Abbot Colmán, the spiritual adviser to the
Airlechas
or Great Assembly of the High King, who emerged to greet them. He was a thickset, ruddy-faced man in his late fifties. As Fidelma dismounted from her horse, he came forward with both hands outstretched, as if greeting an old friend, but behind his welcoming smile, his features wore an expression of anxiety.

‘Sister Fidelma! It is always good to see you here at Tara. But alas, it is sad that such tragedy brings you hither again.’

He gripped her hands warmly and she returned the greeting with the same warmth. It had been some time since their last meeting, when Fidelma had won the respect of the abbot by her abilities, firstly in solving the riddle of the theft of the High King’s ceremonial sword, and next by discovering the truth that lay behind a haunted tomb in the graveyard of the High Kings.
³

‘You are looking well, Colmán, and I swear that the passing years have not changed you,’ she complimented him.

Colmán assumed a solemn countenance.
‘Vanitas vanitatum, omnia vanitas
,’ he quoted piously. ‘I would like to think so, but alas, my reflection calls me vain if I do.’ Then he turned to greet Eadulf. ‘You are welcome here, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham. We have heard much about you, Brother Saxon. The tales of your deeds with our dear Sister Fidelma are told by the storytellers around many a hearth during these dark winter months.’ Then Colmán greeted Caol and Gormán in turn as Fidelma introduced them.

‘The hospitality of Tara is yours,’ he said with a gesture that encompassed them all, before adding significantly, ‘Such hospitality as can be obtained in this troubled time.’

‘What is the situation here?’ asked Fidelma, as Abbot Colmán signalled to the waiting
gilla scuir
, stable lads, to take their horses and remove their saddlebags.

‘It is best that Cenn Faelad tells you directly,’ the abbot said. ‘He desires to see you. However, the rituals of hospitality must first be observed. Rooms have been prepared in the guests’ hostel and orders already given for water to be heated. Come, I will show you to where you may refresh yourselves.’

Fidelma fell in step beside Colmán while Eadulf and the others followed. Caol and Gormán had taken the saddlebags from the stable lads and kept close behind Fidelma and Eadulf.

‘Who knew that I had been sent for, aside from the Great Assembly?’ asked Fidelma.

Abbot Colmán glanced at her, surprised by her question. ‘It was no secret. All the members of the Great Assembly who met to debate the situation after the death of Sechnussach knew it and there has been talk of little else. Why do you ask?’

‘I just wondered. It’s of no consequence,’ she replied. ‘I presume that the obsequies have been conducted for Sechnussach?’

‘He rests among his predecessors and ancestors in the compound of royal graves,’ replied the abbot, a trifle unctuously. ‘It was not possible to wait for all the
cóicedach,
the kings of the five kingdoms, and their nobles to attend the ceremonies. However, it is the intention of Cenn Faelad to invite all the kings and nobles to a memorial feast once the investigation into his brother’s death has produced its findings.’ He added with emphasis, as if it needed explanation,
‘Your
investigation, Fidelma, and
your
findings.’

‘Sechnussach was a great king and a generous man,’ Fidelma observed softly. ‘I hope Cenn Faelad stands in likeness to his brother.’

‘A wise sentiment and heartily echoed, Fidelma,’ agreed the abbot. ‘I have known him many years and I think the five kingdoms will notice little change, for he and his brother agreed on most things.’

‘And when will be Cenn Faelad’s inauguration as High King? That will certainly need the presence of the
cóicedach.
’

The worried look on the abbot’s face deepened.

‘It has been decided, on the advice of the Great Assembly, that there must be a delay before Cenn Faelad can take the sword of the High Kings in his hand and place his foot on the
Lia Fail
to proclaim his accession.’

‘The
Lia Fail
?’ queried Eadulf, remembering what the old woman had said at the river crossing.

Abbot Colmán smiled indulgently. ‘It is part of our inauguration custom here, Brother Saxon. You probably do not know of it, but those about to be installed in the office take the ancient sword of the High Kings in their hand and place their foot on an ancient stone, which we call the
Lia Fail
, the Stone of Destiny. It was said in pagan times that when the sacred stone feels the foot of a just ruler it responds with a shout of joy. You may see the stone in the royal enclosure, beyond those buildings …’ he indicated with his hand ‘ … for it stands here still.’ For a moment, the abbot looked embarrassed. ‘Do not think it is merely a pagan custom, Brother. Our ecclesiastical scholars have concluded that the stone was used by Jacob as his blessed pillow, and was brought out of Ancient Egypt by Goidel, son of Scota, daughter of the Pharaoh Cingris, after whom we Gaels take our name. And it was the descendants of Goidel, the worthy sons of Mile Easpain, who brought it hither to this land so that all our rightful rulers can rest their foot upon it and receive the blessing of the one true god.’

Fidelma sniffed impatiently. ‘It is an old legend … ’ she saw Abbot Colmán frown and corrected herself. ‘An old
story
. The stone is supposed to be of great antiquity – but remember that there is another story about the stone. Four or five generations ago, the brother of the High King Murtagh mac Erc became king of the Dál Riada across the sea in Alba. Fergus mac Erc sent to his brother Murtagh and requested that the stone be shipped to Alba so that he could be crowned upon it. Murtagh obliged his brother and after the inauguration Fergus refused to return the stone and the true
Lia Fail
now rests in Dál Riada.’

Abbot Colmán appeared irritated. ‘I have heard that story, Fidelma, and the answer is that Murtagh mac Erc sent another stone to his brother Fergus. The true
Lia Fail
remains here in Tara and always will.’ He turned and glanced at Eadulf. ‘Why are you so interested in the
Lia Fail
, Brother Eadulf?’

‘Eadulf is always delighted to learn new things about our lands and its legends,’ Fidelma answered for him. ‘Now, Colmán, you were saying that there will be a delay before the inauguration ceremonies for the new High King?’

Eadulf sighed, wondering why Fidelma was apparently unwilling to mention the encounter with the old woman.

They came to a large wooden building at the far end of the royal enclosure. Abbot Colmán indicated that this was the
bruden
or special guesthouses for the High King’s visitors. He halted outside the doors and turned to Fidelma.

‘With the murder of the High King, even though we know who did the deed, your enquiry into the motives and whether anyone else was involved, is essential before any ceremonies can begin. We have to know all the details. So nothing can be done before you have concluded your investigations. We await your findings.’

‘Surely Cenn Faelad is not suspected of involvement?’ Eadulf asked. ‘After all, Sechnussach was his brother.’

‘Brother Saxon, family feuds are not uncommon,’ Abbot Colmán said. ‘The killer, Dubh Duin, was a member of the southern Ui Néill. Sechnussach was of the same Uí Néill ancestry as Dubh Duin. So, of course, is his brother Cenn Faelad. Some might suspect that there is an internal family quarrel here. A grasping for power. No one is above suspicion here. You can see why it was thought proper that Cenn Faelad should not be named as High King until this matter is resolved.’

Fidelma had already appreciated the point.

‘Where is Sechnussach’s sister, Ornait?’ she asked suddenly.

When Sechnussach was about to be inaugurated as High King, the sacred sword of office, the sword said to have been fashioned by Gobhain, the smith god for the ancestors of the Uí Néill, had been stolen. For a High King not to be inaugurated with the sword and with his foot placed in the
Lia Fail
, the sacred Stone of Destiny, could have brought chaos and dissension in the five kingdoms. It had been Fidelma who had discovered that the culprits had been Ornait, the sister of Sechnussach, and her lover, Ailill Esa Flann, who had then been the
tánaiste
or heir apparent.

Abbot Colmán’s eyes sparkled in amusement. ‘I was awaiting your question about Ornait. Her name did cross my mind at the time of the murder,’ he admitted. ‘But, as you know, the Chief Brehon exiled Ornait and her lover Ailill and they went to the kingdom of Rheged on the island of Britain. To my knowledge they have remained there ever since.’

Eadulf was looking bewildered at this exchange and Fidelma relented.

‘I will tell you the story later, Eadulf,’ she promised before turning back to the abbot. ‘The shore of Rheged is only a day’s fair sailing from these shores,’ she said. ‘Ornait and Ailill were ambitious for power five years ago. They could be equally ambitious today and might have a hand in this matter. They would not be the first to be driven into exile and then return to be acclaimed in triumph.’ Fidelma was actually thinking of her own ancestor, Conall Corc, who returned to Muman after his exile not only to become King but also to establish Cashel as his great capital.

‘We would surely have heard some rumour of Ornait’s return if return she has,’ Abbot Colmán argued.

‘Anyway, these are just speculations,’ Fidelma summed up impatiently. ‘There is much to be talked of, but later with Cenn Faelad. Once we are refreshed, and start to gather all the facts, we can put our minds to this problem.’

The abbot nodded and, turning to the
bruden
doors, he clapped his hands to attract attention.

At once, they were opened and a tall, slim, dark-haired girl came forward to greet them. Her dark eyes seemed to have an angelic quality to them, or so Eadulf thought, and she had a ready smile. ‘Pretty’ was a word that came to his mind. She carried herself with a certain grace.

‘This is Báine,’ Abbot Colmán announced. ‘She will attend to your wants while you are staying in the guesthouse. There is no one else here at the moment and so I have presumed that you will want your escort,’ he nodded at Caol and Gormán, ‘to be on hand. There is room enough for all.’

The girl Báine made a deferential move of her head towards Fidelma. ‘Water is heated, lady, and the
dabach
is filled ready.’

The
dabach
was the wooden vat in which one bathed.

‘Good,’ Fidelma said. ‘Then I will seize the opportunity to bathe first.’

Abbot Colmán made his excuses. ‘After you have refreshed yourselves,’ he said, ‘I will come for you and Brother Eadulf to escort you to see Cenn Faelad. He is staying in my house on the other side of the royal enclosure. It was thought better not to move into the royal residence until after things have been settled. The
tánaiste
has arranged a private meal for you so that we may discuss the matter that brings you hither. Báine will see to it that your warriors are fed.’

He turned with a wave of his hand and moved away towards the central buildings of the royal enclosure.

They followed the young girl into the guests’ hostel. She was thorough and efficient, showing Fidelma and Eadulf to the chamber they would share and then conducting Caol and Gormán to rooms close by. Like most of the buildings, the guests’ hostel was a rectangular structure of wood, mainly oak beams and yew panels, with a thatched roof. It was fairly dark in the interior without
seinester
or windows to admit light, so the place reeked of the heavy fumes of tallow candles and oil lamps, even though it was still light outside.

It seemed that Fidelma and Eadulf had hardly had time to look round
the chamber assigned to them and unpack their few belongings from their saddlebags before the girl, Báine, returned.

‘I will take you to your bath, lady,’ she announced. ‘I have laid out all the toiletries you may need; even a comb is provided so you have no need to bring anything else. We have fragrances and items for all your needs.’

Fidelma glanced at Eadulf with an amused expression. ‘Hospitality indeed,’ she murmured, as she left the room to follow the girl.

Hardly any time passed before the girl was back again, knocking gently at the door of the chamber.

‘Excuse me, Brother, but I wonder if you would like a beaker of the juice of crushed apples to slake your thirst while you are waiting for your bath to be prepared?’

‘Indeed, that I would.’ Eadulf smiled gravely.

The girl went to pour the drink and Eadulf followed her into the side room where she was preparing it.

‘Have you served in the guests’ hostel long, Báine?’ he asked.

The girl looked anxious. ‘I hope nothing is amiss, Brother?’

‘No, no.’ He shook his head reassuringly. ‘Nothing at all is wrong. You are very efficient in your work, that is all.’

Báine looked relieved. ‘This is my first time attending to the needs of the guests here. You are my first guests.’