The Seventh Trumpet (40 page)

‘But she was supposed to be confined in the Glen of Lunatics. How would she get the money to pay her band of cut-throats and escape?’ Brehon Áedo stopped at a gesture from Fidelma.

‘The Glen of Lunatics is no prison, and while the most dangerous are closely watched by the religious of Imleach, it would be easy for someone aided by outsiders to escape. Her own cousin, Cronán of Gleann an Ghuail, sent her money and support, probably via his son, Sillán, or one of his men like Biasta. I shall come to them later. Brother Ailgesach had become aware of the conspiracy during his last days working among the unfortunates in the Glen of Lunatics, and he warned Gelgéis – is that not so, lady?’

Gelgéis immediately confirmed it.

‘Ailgesach promised her that he would try to get some proof of the conspiracy and find out what was behind it,’ Fidelma went on. ‘Unfortunately, he did not name Étain – and only at the last moment mentioned Bran Finn. He arranged with the latter to get that proof and bring it to him, at the same time arranging for me and Tormeid to meet with Bran Finn at his chapel. We were there at the appointed time but Bran Finn did not appear.’

‘That is because he was already dead,’ Eadulf told them. ‘It was his body that Tóla found at the stream bordering his farm. The fellow was killed on his way to the rendezvous.’

‘But I thought the body bore the emblem of the Uí Máil, the Kings of Laigin?’ Colgú frowned.

‘That was part of the proof to show the alleged involvement of Laigin. It was what was inside that brooch that was the real evidence,’ Fidelma said. ‘But whoever killed Bran Finn had removed the paper inside the brooch yet neglected to take the evidence of the brooch itself.’

‘So Fianamail was waiting to hear that Cronán and Étain were rampaging through the kingdom,’ Colgú said. ‘Then he would use the excuse to enter the kingdom to stop civil strife. But Étain has been captured and Cronán must soon surrender or be destroyed.’

Gelgéis sighed deeply. ‘So close and yet so far.’ There were frowns from several who had gathered there. ‘If Bran Finn had reached us, he would have brought proof of the conspiracy and told us who was involved. We waited in vain at Ailgesach’s place. When he did not appear, I returned here to Durlus. Tormeid decided to go to the river, intent on travelling to Imleach or the Glen of Lunatics to see what he could discover about Bran Finn.’

There was a silence for a while.

‘There is one thing that mystifies me,’ Abbot Ségdae said slowly.

‘Only one thing?’ Fidelma smiled.

‘We know that Étain suffered from extreme religious zeal. I can accept that was what inspired her madness, sent her riding forth to murder and pillage under the banners we have seen. Are we to understand that Cronán, who has declared himself to be an abbot, is similarly cursed?’

‘His purpose and that of Étain, his cousin, were not the same,’ explained Fidelma. ‘He was simply prepared to allow her to be the distraction in the west of the country. True, he had his warriors carry out some similar raids under religious banners against the Uí Duach. That was in order to fool people into thinking it was all part of a general unrest to provide the excuse for Fianamail. But Cronán’s goal was power. Power and pure avarice. He was waiting until he knew the warriors of Laigin were gathered on the border before he unleashed his main assault. His belief was that the conflict would bring Laigin in on his side and precipitate him to power.’

Colgú shook his head with a smile. ‘For the first time there is a flaw in your argument, Fidelma. You have overlooked the most important point, sister. Cronán is no Eóghanacht. As powerful as the Laigin men could make him, he would never be able to claim the throne of Muman as a legitimate King. The
derbhfine
of the Eóghanacht have to make that choice according to law, not only from the most worthy to govern – the best able, if you like – but also from the bloodline. Cronán is of the Osraige. He is not of the Eóghanacht bloodline. Anyway, he is answerable to Tuaim Snámha, the Prince of Osraige.’

Brehon Áedo was puzzled. ‘This is complex. Are you saying that Tuaim Snámha is involved?’

‘I cannot prove that, but I suspect that he is not. I believe that Cronán’s conspiracy with Fianamail of Laigin would be that Tuaim Snámha would be displaced and that Cronán would be made ruler of Osraige.’

‘Then what of Muman?’ demanded the Brehon. ‘If this conspiracy was to overthrow Colgú, surely that means there is someone else involved?’ His eyes widened. ‘There is only one who can succeed in Cashel. Finguine, son of Cathal Cú-cen-máthair, your
tánaiste
, your heir apparent. He is of the bloodline. And he has been left safe in Cashel with an army at his command.’

All eyes turned to Fidelma. ‘Finguine is—’

She was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door and when Spealáin opened it, they could hear Caol’s voice outside whispering urgently. Spealáin turned back into the room with a shocked expression. He seemed unable to articulate for a moment and Colgú looked to Caol, who stood framed in the door behind the steward’s shoulder.

‘What is it, man?’ he demanded testily.

The commander of his bodyguard took a quick step into the room, glancing round awkwardly.

‘The guard I left outside the prisoner’s room – one of the Éile warriors – has been killed. The Lady Étain has escaped. She is nowhere to be found.’

CHAPTER TWENTY

F
idelma and Eadulf entered the chamber where they had recently tried to question Étain of An Dún. Outside, in the passageway, the body of the warrior who had been left on guard lay in a crumpled and bloody heap. It looked as if he had been stabbed several times in the neck and chest in a frenzied attack. Inside the chamber, the bonds that had secured the woman lay scattered around. Eadulf gave them a cursory glance.

‘Someone has released her from those chains,’ he said, stating the obvious.

Caol and Gormán had entered behind them with the agitated Spealáin.

‘Cathchern was a good warrior,’ the steward grieved. ‘He would never have allowed a stranger to approach and strike him without even attempting to draw his weapon.’

‘That is the only explanation,’ agreed Eadulf. ‘Whoever killed him and released the prisoner was known and trusted by him.’

‘Then there is a traitor here.’ Gormán’s expression was grim. ‘It could be anyone of the Éile.’

‘There are no traitors among the Éile,’ snapped Spealáin.

‘You have every right to protest,’ agreed Eadulf calmly, ‘but we must consider logic. The guard was attacked by someone he knew, or whose rank he had to respect.’

‘We can discuss this later,’ Fidelma said. ‘It is more urgent to find where Étain of An Dún is hiding and who is hiding her. Now she is free, in her current state of mind, she will doubtless be bent on vengeance.’

‘There is one point to consider,’ Eadulf said quietly.

‘Which is?’

‘You know how her mind was when we saw her … well, the person who released her had the ability to do so without her raving or crying out and alarming anyone. That person was well known to her, able to quieten her.’

‘A good point, Eadulf.’ Fidelma turned to Caol. ‘I want you to go to my brother and persuade him to return to the chamber Gelgéis has allotted him and await the outcome of our search for Étain. Do not leave his side, even if he tries to insist. Do not leave him alone until I say otherwise.’

Caol hurried off while Fidelma turned to the steward.

‘Spealáin, you must alert Gelgéis and the guards. There must be a detailed search of the fortress for this woman and anyone else behaving suspiciously.’

‘Are you sure you can trust me and the guards of Durlus?’ the man said bitterly.

Fidelma answered with a thin smile. ‘Trust must be earned, Spealáin,’ she replied. ‘I suggest you set about earning it.’

He bit his lip and then hastened after Caol.

‘Do you think Étain is going to attempt to assassinate the King?’ asked Gormán anxiously.

‘She is crazy enough to try,’ Eadulf said heavily. ‘With the way her mind is working, I do not think she would even be able to find her way to the King on her own and do the deed.’

‘That’s just it,’ Fidelma interrupted. ‘She is not capable on her own. Someone has released her and may even now be leading her to my brother.’

‘Then …’ Gormán was white-faced as he turned to the door.

‘Wait! We can leave Colgú’s protection to Caol,’ called Fidelma, halting him. ‘Our task is to find Étain and her companion.’

Outside in the corridor, ignoring the crumpled body of the warrior, they paused, uncertain of their direction. Then Gormán sucked in his breath and pointed. There were smudge-marks of blood on the stone floor. Someone, either Étain or her rescuer, had trodden in the blood of the guard and moved on, not noticing.

Gormán eased his sword out and led the way, following the trail. At the end of the passage, the trail turned down another short passage and ended before a stout wooden door. There were no locks on it. The young warrior motioned them back and reached forward. The door pushed open easily. A flight of steps led down into what was obviously a cellar or small vault. They could see a flickering light at the bottom.

‘Wait here!’ whispered the warrior. ‘I’ll go down first.’

They knew better than to object. Gormán moved noiselessly down the stone steps, his sword held ready in front of him. Then he disappeared from their sight. There was a long silence and Eadulf fidgeted uneasily. Fidelma was about to call down when Gormán’s voice came up to them.

‘It’s all right, but you had better come and see this.’

Eadulf went first down the steps and into the cellar, which was lit by an oil lamp. Gormán was standing before what seemed to be a mound of clothing on the floor in front of him.

‘What is it?’ demanded Eadulf.

Gormán stood back and gestured to the huddled figure at his feet.

Fidelma let her breath escape in a long deep sigh. ‘It’s Étain,’ she said softly.

‘A single stab wound in the heart,’ confirmed Gormán.

Eadulf took the oil lamp from its resting-place and held it above the figure so that they could see better.

‘Did you …?’ Fidelma looked up at Gormán.

‘God forbid, lady. I am no killer of old women,’ protested the warrior. ‘I came down here and saw this bundle of clothing, or so I thought. I discovered it was a body and made a quick search, but there is no one else here.’

‘The wound is still bleeding, the body warm.’ Eadulf had peered closer. ‘And …’ his voice rose sharply, ‘she still lives!’

He gently thrust Fidelma aside, handing her the lantern, and knelt beside the woman. Even as he did so, he realised that it was too late. The Lady Étain of An Dún was breathing her last but, in that moment, she was conscious and her pale eyes became wide and staring. A strange understanding entered them. She was trying to speak. Eadulf raised her head a little with one hand behind it, and bent his ear to her trembling lips. Words came as a painful breath followed by a long rattling sigh and she was dead.

Eadulf laid the woman’s head back on the bloody flags, then slowly rose to his feet.

‘Did she say anything?’ Fidelma demanded.

‘I believe she was thinking of her family in her last moment.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because she said two words – “my daughter” – that’s all.’

Fidelma stared at him and he saw comprehension dawning in her eyes. Then she quickly addressed Gormán. ‘Find Spealáin and inform him of this matter. He can remove the body. I will let my brother and Gelgéis know.’

Eadulf followed her as she hurried away.

‘What is it?’ he demanded as they raced back towards the guest quarters.

‘I have just realised that my brother is still in danger,’ she panted.

They found Caol standing outside the guest chamber which had been assigned to Colgú.

‘Didn’t I tell you not to leave my brother’s side?’ Fidelma’s voice was raised in anger.

Caol was shocked, for he had never heard her sound so angry or upset before. ‘It’s all right, lady,’ he protested. ‘The King is not alone. He told me to wait outside.’

‘Did I not make my instructions clear? Not alone? Who is with him?’

‘Why, the Lady Dúnliath.’

To his surprise, Fidelma physically pushed him aside and hurled herself at the door. It was secured from the inside.

‘Break it in!’ Her agitation galvanised Caol into action.

Caol threw himself at the door. The wood around the lock cracked and splintered and gave, precipitating him into the room, followed a moment later by Fidelma.

Dúnliath had been wrapped in an embrace with Colgú and now she spun away and stared at them with cold fury on her face. Colgú himself stepped back in utter astonishment.

‘By the …!’ he roared. ‘What does this mean, sister?’ His voice was low and ominous.

‘I am thankful to find you unharmed, brother.’ There was relief in her voice, but she knew that Colgú was possessed of a temper equal to her own.

‘Of course I am unharmed!’ he snapped. ‘There are boundaries that even you may not trespass across. What do you mean by this outrageous behaviour?’

‘I gave specific instructions to Caol not to leave your side until I said so.’