‘You did not know him at Streonshalh?’
‘I did not. Was he there?’
‘So where and how in Canterbury did you meet him?’ went on Eadulf without answering.
‘I was going to find a band of religious or merchants heading to a new abbey that I had heard about in the east of the Kingdom of Kent and . . . I think I met him in a tavern.’ He saw the expression on Eadulf’s face and grimaced. ‘Where else would one pick up news of a merchant band leaving Canterbury?’ Eadulf was about to point out that there were plenty of religious houses and hostels in Canterbury, but Egric was continuing. ‘I was despairing of finding such a band when I fell into conversation with the Venerable Victricius. He told me that no less a person than Archbishop Theodore had given him a special commission which would take him here. I mentioned that I had been in the land of the Cruthin; I knew something of the common tongue, though I had never been here before. All this I told you earlier.’
‘And so he asked you to accompany him?’
‘He needed my skill; also the fact was that he was old and I was young.’
‘And you agreed without knowing the purpose of the trip, to come on a long and arduous journey into an unknown land? It seems strange.’
‘How so, strange?’ Egric challenged.
‘That you set out from Canterbury to accompany the Venerable Victricius, without knowing him and without any idea of his purpose.’
‘Strange but true, brother. I had no other urgent task to occupy me and the prospect of adventure seemed good. Did you never set out on a journey without knowing where it would lead you?’
Eadulf paused, for his brother had a point. ‘I do not have to be convinced, Egric. But the fact that Brother Cerdic arrived here to tell us that there was a deputation coming from Canterbury and then was murdered . . .’
Egric frowned quickly. ‘Are you accusing me?’
‘Don’t be so touchy, Egric. You did not arrive at Cashel until after Brother Cerdic was found murdered. What I am trying to find is some thread that would lead me into untangling this mystery.’
‘You were always trying to resolve riddles when you were a boy.’ Egric sounded disgusted.
Eadulf sighed. ‘Isn’t it curious that Brother Cerdic came here from Canterbury and was killed here? That you and the Venerable Victricius came here from Canterbury and were attacked here, leaving Victricius dead? Surely there is something more you can tell us.’
Egric was shaking his head firmly. ‘All I know is what I have said. It might well have something to do with the Venerable Victricius’ purpose in coming to this kingdom – I don’t know.’
‘Bishop Arwald will soon be here in the company of the Venerable Verax. You said that you had heard of Arwald – but what of Verax?’
Egric was silent and covered the silence by taking a sip of his drink.
‘So you do not know the Venerable Verax?’ pressed Eadulf.
‘Eadulf, I am a lowly cleric – not one who mixes with highly placed members of the Faith.’
‘Yet you were travelling as companion to the Venerable Victricius,’ Eadulf said patiently.
‘That is different.’
‘How different?’
‘When is this deputation due in Cashel?’ asked Egric, without replying.
‘They were reported as being about a day’s ride away.’
Eadulf sat watching his brother for a moment. He knew instinctively that Egric was keeping something back. But what was it? He could hardly accuse him of complicity in the death of Brother Cerdic because, as he pointed out, Brother Cerdic had been murdered
before
Egric arrived at Cashel. But he was sure that his brother knew far more than he was telling him.
‘I must get back to the palace,’ Eadulf finally said, rising. He tried to conceal his exasperation. ‘I have things to do before the Venerable Verax and his party arrive. I will see you later.’
Egric glanced up at his brother. ‘I am sorry to give you such trouble.’
‘Don’t worry. As soon as this deputation has come and gone, we must get together properly and catch up on all that has happened to each of us. I’ll take you fishing along the Siúr; the river circles to the west of us here and further north there is good fishing. I remember how you liked to fish in the Fromus where it passed by our father’s house . . .’
‘That was long ago.’
‘Not so long that it has passed from memory. But there is good fishing here. Good hunting, too.’
Egric was suddenly looking thoughtful. ‘You are right, brother. Maybe I should take time to relax.’
‘That’s the spirit.’ Eadulf leaned forward and patted his brother’s shoulder approvingly. ‘You’ve had a bad time. Once we find out what the Venerable Verax wants, things should feel a lot easier.’
He turned. Raising a hand to Rumann, and to Dego and the others, he left the tavern.
Arriving back in the palace, Eadulf went to their chambers to see if Fidelma was there. Muirgen was actually tidying up while Alchú sat watching her.
‘Hello, little hound,’ Eadulf greeted him as he came in.
The boy looked up and peered around Eadulf as if expecting someone to be behind him.
‘Where is that strange man,
athair
?’ he asked.
‘Strange man?’ Eadulf was puzzled.
‘He means your brother,’ Muirgen offered sheepishly pausing from her work.
‘That is no strange man, little hound.’ Eadulf shook his head reprovingly. ‘That is Egric, your uncle.’
The little boy pouted. ‘I don’t like him.’
Eadulf sat down opposite his son with a strained smile. ‘So what makes you not like your uncle?’
The child stared intently at his hands then mumbled: ‘I don’t know. I just don’t like him.’
Eadulf wondered how best to deal with the situation.
‘You must have some reason,’ he said gently. ‘Why, you don’t even know him. Tell me, what do you feel about your uncle?’
The little boy did not respond but stared stubbornly down, not meeting his father’s eyes.
Eadulf raised his eyes in a helpless gesture to Muirgen. She motioned him with her head to come to the far side of the chamber and then spoke quietly.
‘He seemed strangely silent after you had introduced your brother to him this morning. Some children – indeed, most children – have an intuitive feeling for certain things. To ask them to explain those feelings by means of logic is futile.’
‘I have great respect for your abilities as a nurse, Muirgen. Indeed, that is why we brought you and your husband, Nessan, all the way from Sliabh Mís to look after our son. But I have no understanding of this.’
‘Well, a child will suddenly say they don’t like eggs, or some other food. You ask them why, and often they can’t explain. The same goes with people. Sometimes, someone will come along and you will take an instant dislike to them. Why? You, being older and more mature, might try to find reasons but usually you fall back on instinct.’
‘So you say I shouldn’t force Algú to like him?’
‘What I say is that it will be up to your brother to win the boy over.’
Eadulf grimaced. ‘Easier said than done. Alas, Egric doesn’t seem to have a way with children.’
‘Well, from what I have picked up from gossip, he might be finding it hard to be open with people here at the moment. Having survived an attack, his companion killed, he finds himself a stranger in a strange land. Whom can he trust? No wonder he is awkward with everyone, not just our Alchú.’
Eadulf stared at the nurse for a moment, surprised at her understanding. ‘I swear that you would make a good philosopher, Muirgen.’
She chuckled. ‘Why, sir, I was raised in a family of country folk. Being close to nature, we are closer to all living creatures than most people who are raised in townships. Your brother keeps his thoughts and emotions to himself. That is all.’
‘So you advise me to let matters take their natural course?’
‘Yes, that is my advice.’
‘And not try to challenge or correct the boy?’
‘Exactly so.’
‘So be it,’ agreed Eadulf. Then: ‘Have you seen Fidelma? It must be nearly time for the
eter-shod
.’
The
eter-shod
was the midday meal.
‘There is food prepared in the adjacent chamber and the lady Fidelma has said she would return for it after she had finished speaking with her brother.’
‘Is there a place laid for Egric?’
‘Naturally.’ Muirgen seemed slightly offended and Eadulf apologised immediately.
But Egric did not return to eat with them. Fidelma and Eadulf made no mention of the fact in front of Alchú as they ate the light meal which was usual at this time of day. Only after they had finished and Muirgen had removed the boy did Fidelma broach the subject. Eadulf described the stilted encounter between their son and his uncle, and then spoke of Alchú’s dislike and Muirgen’s views on the situation.
Fidelma sighed absently and asked: ‘Egric knew he was to eat with us?’
‘He did.’
‘Perhaps you had better check on him. I want to have a further word with Brother Conchobhar.’
Eadulf did not really want to return to Rumann’s tavern to remonstrate with his brother for not joining them for the midday meal. He was sure that Egric would resent the fact. However, as he made his way down to the courtyard he saw Gormán, and some instinct made him ask if the guard commander had seen Egric return to the palace.
‘I think he is still in Rumann’s tavern, friend Eadulf. I was on my way back from my mother’s place and had cause to have a word with Rumann. He and Dego were still in there. They are as thick as thieves and talking about fishing or something.’
Eadulf said in bewilderment, ‘I am surprised he is so interested that he has forgotten to come back for his meal.’
They were interrupted by a shout. It was from Enda, who was on watch-duty in the tower above the gate. ‘Riders!’
‘From the east?’ called Gormán, having been warned to watch for the arrival of Bishop Arwald’s deputation.
‘No, from the south. Six men – four look like warriors. One of them carries a banner.’
‘Whose banner?’ demanded Gormán.
‘I can’t see it from here. They are crossing through the township and making for the palace.’
‘Sing out when you can identify the banner,’ Gormán replied, turning back to Eadulf. ‘Well, at least they don’t appear to be the visitors that the King expects. I have some men placed on the hill to the east, so they should give us ample warning of their approach.’
‘There is certainly a lot of tension about their coming.’
Gormán was in agreement. ‘To be honest, friend Eadulf, some people are a little unnerved by the pronouncements of Deogaire.’
‘Evil from the east?’ Eadulf feigned a laugh. It sounded hollow and he knew it. ‘I would take little notice of that.’
‘I am not personally concerned,’ replied the warrior, ‘but there are others who cleave to the old superstitions.’
‘The riders are approaching!’ Enda called down. ‘I can see the banner now . . . yes, it’s that of Cummasach.’
Gormán whistled softly. ‘Whatever brings the Prince of the Déisi to Cashel? That’s a rare occurrence.’
‘Wouldn’t it be because of the attack on my brother and his companion?’ Eadulf asked, coming to the logical conclusion.
The warrior clicked his tongue in annoyance. ‘Of course, that must be it! But even an event like that makes it unusual to get the Prince of the Déisi to stir himself north of the Siúr. They have a strange history, these Déisi.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Time was when they were a wealthy and powerful people, living in the fertile lands of Midhe – the Middle Kingdom. Legend has it that an argument broke out and their chieftain cast a spear at the High King and took out his eye. The Brehons met and decided that one half of the Déisi, under that Prince, Aonghus of the Terrible Spear, should be banished across the water to the east. They settled and created a kingdom called Dyfed. The other half of the Déisi were sent south where the King of Cashel allowed them to settle south of the great River Siúr.’
Eadulf was startled. He recalled how he and Fidelma had been shipwrecked on the shores of Dyfed and realised that there was some close affinity with the people there and those of the Five Kingdoms.
‘When were they sent into exile?’ he enquired.
‘Oh, that was centuries ago. Don’t worry – the Déisi of Muman are peaceful enough and pay regular tribute to Cashel.’
‘I realise that,’ Eadulf replied, a little defensively, ‘for have I not often accompanied Fidelma through their territory?’
A horn suddenly sounded from the path leading up to the palace gates. It was customary for armed strangers to announce their presence in such a fashion.
‘Make the response,’ called Gormán to Enda. ‘I will greet them.’
Enda drew his hunting horn and gave an answering blast as Eadulf followed Gormán across the courtyard to the main gates. By the time they reached them, the band of horsemen were entering and Eadulf stood back in the shadows while the Commander of the King’s Bodyguard went forward to formally greet them.
The leader was a broad-shouldered man, with wiry brown hair and beard and an expression of authority. His colourful clothes, the cloak and arms, proclaimed him as a man of rank. Next to him rode a warrior carrying a pole with a banner – the emblem of the Déisi. Behind them came a man of advancing years, his dress and insignia proclaiming him to be a Brehon. It was the youth who accompanied him who caught Eadulf’s attention, for his hands were tied with rope before him. His clothes were torn and dirty. There was dirt and blood on his face and his mouse-coloured hair was ragged and askew. In spite of his appearance, the boy wore a smile of superiority and seemed to concentrate his gaze upon the middle distance. Bringing up the rear of the group were two warriors.
Gormán moved forward and greeted the leader.
‘Welcome to Cashel, Cummasach. I am Gormán, Commander of the Nasc Niadh, Bodyguard to the King.’
Cummasach glanced down at the warrior, his glance neither friendly nor antagonistic. The ritual of greeting was a formality.
‘I thank you for your welcome, warrior of the Golden Collar. I have come, with my Brehon, Furudán, to speak with Colgú.’
‘I will have Colgú informed of your arrival, Cummasach. Your escort will be attended to, but who is it that accompanies you as a prisoner?’