The Devil's Seal (37 page)

Fidelma smiled. ‘Don’t worry, little hound,’ she told him. ‘There is plenty of time to have your cake before we go.’

Aibell climbed down from her perch and helped Alchú dismount.

Della suddenly appeared on the porch wiping her hands on an apron. She was about forty years of age, of short stature but the years had not diminished her youthfulness or the golden sheen of her hair.

‘Fidelma, have you come to collect the child already? I was just about to serve some hot cakes. Ah, and Brother Conchobhar is with you. Welcome, Brother. I have all your herbs ready. So come in, come in. Taste some of the cakes I have just taken from the oven and I have good cider to wash them down with.’

Like a mother shepherding her young, she drew everyone into the house. Aibell had calmed the dog, once more excited by the arrival of visitors. It took its impatient post just outside the door. Alchú was placed at the table with a cake and a beaker of the crushed juice of apples.

After the formalities of tasting the delicious cakes and sipping strong apple cider, Fidelma asked: ‘Have you seen Beccan in these parts recently?’

‘Beccan? I don’t really know him,’ Della replied with a shake of her head. ‘He’s the new steward at your brother’s palace, isn’t he? A strange little man, I am told. I gather he’s very proper, very courteous, but he surrounds himself with a wall so no one ever gets to know him.’

‘Ah, I thought you might have known Beccan and seen him passing here.’ Fidelma was disappointed.

‘Dar Luga told me that Beccan was given a job in your brother’s kitchens and then, scarcely a full moon or two went by before he rose to become steward of the King’s household.’

‘That was because of the unexpected death of the previous steward,’ Fidelma pointed out.

‘I thought it strange that your brother did not choose a steward from one of the Eóghanacht clans rather than a man of the Déisi. At least, Dar Luga
said
he was from that clan.’

Fidelma’s head jerked upwards. ‘The Déisi?’ Of course, she had been overlooking the fact that Beccan came from that territory.

‘Now why would you think Beccan would be coming around here?’ Della asked comfortably.

Fidelma explained the story Beccan had told her about Maon, and where she and Brother Conchobhar had been and what they had seen.

‘Odd you should mention that hut,’ Della commented. ‘The other day, Gormán had an errand which took him through the woods, along that very path. When he came back, he asked me about the woodsman’s cabin and whether it was used. I said it had not been used, so far as I could recall, since I was a young girl – and that is certainly not yesterday. When I asked my lad why he was enquiring, he said he had seen a horse tethered outside.’

Fidelma sighed. ‘Dar Luga said the same to me. She had also passed along that path.’

‘Shame on Beccan if he took a poor sick girl to nurse her there,’ Della sniffed. ‘There was room enough here, had he sought my hospitality.’

Fidelma exchanged a meaningful glance with Brother Conchobhar. ‘Somehow, I do not think that we need fear for her health just yet,’ she said dryly. ‘Anyway, we must return to the palace and have a further word with Beccan to find out where the girl has gone.’

‘It seems strange that she should have gone anywhere, immediately after a fever. It usually takes a few days to recover one’s strength,’ Brother Conchobhar observed.

Fidelma silently agreed with him. Then she remembered the other matter she wanted to raise with Aibell.

‘Aibell, I need to prepare you . . . Brother Conchobhar here has a relative who has been staying at the palace. He is of the Luachra and from Sliabh Luachra.’

A scowl formed on the girl’s face. ‘I hoped never to hear the name of those people and that place again.’ She looked accusingly at the old physician. ‘I did not know you were from Sliabh Luachra?’

‘I am not,’ replied the old man. ‘But I had a sister who married a man of the Luachra. She died many years ago, but now and then her son passes through Cashel and insists on visiting me.’

Despite being of the age of choice, Aibell had been sold to Fidaig, the chief of the Luachra, as a bondservant in an act of petty revenge. Her father had been an evil lout and wife-beater, and when his wife had fled from his home, he had carried out the illegal transaction of selling his own daughter into bondage. She had remained trapped in that position among the Luachra until she had seized a chance to escape.

‘I thought I should mention this to you in case you encountered the man and recognised him, or he recognised you,’ Fidelma said gently. ‘At the moment, he is under guard as a suspect in the deaths that have occurred. But I thought it best to forewarn you.’

‘I shall do my best to avoid any member of the Luachra,’ the girl shuddered.

‘Indeed. Anyway, you have nothing to fear now from any member of the clan Luachra.’

‘We have heard gossip of deaths in the palace,’ interposed Della. ‘Is this man responsible?’

Brother Conchobhar broke in here, on the defensive. ‘I refuse to believe it. Even though I disagree with my nephew’s views and way of life, I know he would never raise a hand in anger to anyone.’

‘Who is this relative of yours, Brother Conchobhar?’ asked Aibell. ‘Would I have known him in Sliabh Luachra?’

‘Perhaps not. His name is Deogaire.’

The effect on the girl was remarkable. Her mouth opened with a loud gasp and her eyes widened.

‘Do you mean Deogaire the soothsayer?’ she breathed.

‘Indeed, I do. Deogaire is my sister’s son.’

The girl took a pace backwards and sat down abruptly.

‘S
o you do know him?’ Fidelma observed quietly.

To her surprise, a happy smile spread over Aibell’s features. ‘Yes, I know him. Where may I see him? Is he at the palace?’

A feeling of disquiet came over Fidelma at the girl’s enthusiastic response.

‘What is he to you?’ she enquired.

‘He was someone who was very kind to me.’

‘Deogaire was kind to you?’ Brother Conchobhar looked even more surprised. ‘How so, child?’

‘Without Deogaire’s help I would not have been able to escape from the household of Fidaig, where I was confined as a bondservant against all law and morals,’ the girl said firmly.

‘You have never told us the story of your escape from the mountain fastness of the Luachra,’ Fidelma said now. ‘I know only that you escaped; that you reached the Ass’s Ford at the River Siúr and managed to get a ride on the wagon of the merchant Ordan of Rathordan. He brought you to Cashel where we found you in the woodsman’s hut across the paddock there.’

‘There was little enough to tell,’ the girl shrugged.

‘Tell us that little, so that we might understand,’ coaxed Fidelma.

‘For a long time I was forced to serve in the house of Fidaig of Sliabh Luachra. I was ill-treated and could confide my anguish to no one. Hope was beyond my thoughts until . . . until one day, Deogaire came to the fortress of Fidaig. He was treated with respect because the Luachra are very superstitious; many believe in the old gods, even though some, like Artgal and Gláed, the sons of Fidaig, seem to follow the New Faith. You know how remote the territory is, surrounded by many mountains and set in impenetrable marshes. Don’t they call the twin peaks that rise there the Breasts of Danu? She was pagan Mother Goddess of our people.’

Aibell paused for a moment and then continued: ‘Whenever there were guests at Fidaig’s fortress, which was not often, I was forced to serve them and thus I served Deogaire. He was truly in tune with the spirits, for he saw at once how unhappy I was; how desperate I had become. For the first time since I was taken by Fidaig, I found I had someone to talk to. All my anguish poured forth with his encouragement. At last, he said that his heart went out to me. He taught me that even a barren wood can eventually renew its foliage. He gave me hope for the future. He helped me flee from the fastnesses of that terrible place.’

‘He helped you escape from Fidaig?’ Fidelma was surprised.

‘One night he took me on his horse. We avoided the guards and rode off into the mountains. Fidaig sent his warriors after us. Once or twice they nearly caught us. Then we were sheltering in the Glen of Ravens – a grim solitude in which, Deogaire told me, the old Goddess of Death and Battles dwelled. From our hiding place, we saw Fidaig’s men searching for us and realised that it would not be long before they discovered us.

‘Deogaire said we would have to part company. If we both fled on our single horse, we would soon be overtaken and captured. If he fled using my cloak, he might be able to convince them that I was clinging to his back. He could then lead them away from the Glen of Ravens. He told me that as soon as he drew them off, I should make my way out of the mountains and go eastward, where he would try to join me. It happened as he said. I saw him galloping down the valley and, in hue and cry after him, rode a score of Fidaig’s warriors. As soon as they were out of sight, I set off on the route he had instructed me to follow.’ She looked at Fidelma. ‘I never saw him again.’

‘And you eventually reached the Ford of the Ass where Ordan the merchant picked you up,’ Fidelma repeated. ‘And you have not heard of Deogaire since your escape?’

‘Alas, I have not heard of him again – that is, until now.’

Brother Conchobhar seemed cheered by her story. ‘Then there must be some good in him, after all.’

‘Good? How could you doubt it?’ demanded the girl, showing a touch of her old aggressiveness. Then before Brother Conchobhar could answer, she went on: ‘I suppose it is because he will not give up the old religion of our people that others condemn him? Why should he accept the New Faith from the east? Because someone does not agree with you, it does not make them bad. I would rather have Deogaire’s friendship and support than someone like my father, who claimed all his life to uphold the New Faith.’

Brother Conchobhar shifted uneasily. ‘I would hope that Deogaire is not beyond redemption,’ he muttered piously.

‘Redemption? Does he need to be delivered from what you see as a corrupted state? When we hear of the quarrels among those professing the New Faith, arguments of whether this interpretation or that is right or wrong – arguments which have often led to bloodshed – who has the right to judge that someone like Deogaire stands in need of being saved from his beliefs? Is there something better to be offered by this New Faith?’

Della looked unhappy, glancing towards young Alchú who was sitting in wide-eyed solemnity at the passionate-sounding adult discussion. ‘Aibell, we are all of the New Faith here,’ she chided gently. ‘Surely you are not saying that you uphold the old ways?’

Aibell flushed and then seemed to calm herself. ‘I am sorry, Della. I do not mean to sound insulting. I am not sure
what
I believe after the way my father treated me. I simply cannot abide someone like Deogaire being criticised because his beliefs are different. They were the beliefs of our people a thousand years before the coming of those new ideas from the east. They were the beliefs of the time before time. Surely he is entitled to them?’

There was a silence and then Fidelma leaned forward and patted the girl’s arm. Secretly, she felt sympathy with the logic of her arguments. ‘No one will condemn a person for their beliefs,’ she said. ‘Everyone is entitled to their own views, so long as those views do no harm to anyone else.’

‘Deogaire is up at the palace?’ Aibell was still animated. ‘I must come up and see him.’

Fidelma said uncomfortably, ‘I have told you that it will not be possible immediately. He is being held under guard while an investigation into several deaths is being conducted.’

The girl’s expression was shocked. ‘Are you serious? He is being accused of involvement in these deaths?’

‘Among other things,’ confirmed Fidelma.

‘Then . . . then you must defend him,’ Aibell burst out. ‘You are a
dálaigh
. You will clear him.’

Fidelma hesitated a moment or two. What was the old saying?
Even truth may be bitter
. ‘I am the one doing the investigating, Aibell,’ she said quietly. ‘It is I who have ordered his incarceration because of the evidence so far.’

The hope seemed to die from Aibell’s face. Then she said in a fierce but respectful tone: ‘I will not accept that Deogaire has harmed anyone. I
refuse
to believe it.’

‘Then let us hope that we can support your belief.’ Fidelma rose. ‘Come, Alchú. We must be getting back now.’ She turned to the girl. ‘I will keep you informed, and as soon as it is possible to see Deogaire, I will send for you, Aibell. You have my word.’

She then thanked Della for her hospitality. Her friend looked troubled as she handed the bags of herbs to Brother Conchobhar and bade them all farewell. Aibell sat silently at the table, staring unseeingly before her and forgot to even say goodbye to Alchú.

After they had ridden a little way, Brother Conchobhar ventured a look at Fidelma. ‘You are worried,’ he commented.

Fidelma glanced quickly at little Alchú on his pony. His mind seemed occupied with his mount at that moment so she replied in an undertone: ‘I
am
worried. This is a new development. Has Deogaire ever spoken to you of Aibell?’