‘It’s the first time I have heard someone demanding to be a suspect in a murder.’

  Eadulf grinned. ‘All I am saying is that Aillín has a point.’

  ‘Aillín is a bitter old man who was not talented enough to be endorsed as Chief Brehon by the Council of Brehons. Only Áedo’s death caused him to reach the position he has, as my brother said. Unfortunately, he has no breadth of vision, no imagination to see beyond literal fact. Anyway, enough of Aillín. Let us go and speak with Brother Conchobhar and see if he has anything more to tell us, now that he has examined the body.’

  But Brother Conchobhar could tell them nothing more than to confirm the manner of Brother Cerdic’s death, which they already knew. With a feeling of frustration the couple left the apothecary. A call arrested their attention and they turned to see Gormán hurrying after them.

  ‘Gormán!’ Fidelma smiled at the newly appointed commander of her brother’s bodyguard. ‘It is good to see that you have returned safely. Did you resolve the dispute at Áth Thine? Is all well?’

  Gormán returned the greeting with a big smile. ‘Áth Thine was nothing more complicated than an argument that a local Brehon could have resolved, lady. It was a simple dispute over cattle straying across the border. However, there seems to be a more serious dispute brewing among the Déisi.’

  ‘More serious?’ queried Eadulf.

  ‘Some travellers were attacked on the river east of the Field of Honey, and two boatmen and one of the travellers, an elderly religieux, were killed. It occurred on the river just beyond Brother Siolán’s little chapel,’ confirmed Gormán. ‘We were just crossing the Mountain of Women, heading for the Field of Honey in the late afternoon, when we came across the scene.’

  Fidelma was shocked. ‘Who attacked these travellers?’

  ‘We heard that Prince Cummasach of the Déisi has been having trouble with some of his young men of late. We reported the matter to the Brehon at the Field of Honey and he will investigate. One of the travellers survived and said they had arranged to meet a Brother Docgan there. We asked around, but no one had heard of such a man.’

  ‘Docgan is a Saxon name,’ Eadulf told them. ‘It means “a little dog”.’

  ‘You say there was a survivor?’ Fidelma asked.

  ‘Yes. We brought him here with us. I think you should speak with him, friend Eadulf. I have taken him to your chamber.’

  Eadulf gazed at the young warrior for a moment, waiting for him to explain further.

  ‘You are being very mysterious, Gormán.’ It was Fidelma who made the comment.

  The warrior shrugged diffidently. ‘I just need to make sure that the man I have escorted here is who he says he is. Friend Eadulf needs to see the man first.’

  Eadulf was puzzled, but quickly realising that he would get no more information from Gormán, he said: ‘Then the sooner I see this survivor, the better.’

  He turned and led the way to the chambers that he shared with Fidelma.

  Entering, they were aware that Gormán had apparently left Enda to watch over the guest. The warrior greeted them with a quick nod and smile before they turned to examine the figure on the far side of the chamber, standing with its back towards them, gazing out of the window. Hearing their entrance, it slowly turned. It was a young man.

  Eadulf moved involuntarily backwards with a gasp. ‘You!’ was all he said.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The young man simply stood with arms held out.

  ‘It is indeed myself, Eadulf,’ he replied with a chuckle. The words were exchanged in their own language but Fidelma knew enough of it to understand.

  ‘I believed you to be dead, these many years,’ Eadulf said with emotion.

  ‘Far be it for me to shatter your beliefs, dear brother,’ replied the other, still smiling. ‘Yet, in this matter, I am glad that I can do so.’

  ‘Egric, it is truly you?’ Eadulf was still shaking his head in disbelief.

  ‘And ten years older, brother.’

  Eadulf suddenly moved, crossing the distance between them, and flung his arms around the young man. A torrent of his native language poured from him that Fidelma had no hope of following, so rapid and inflected was it.

  The newcomer laughingly disengaged himself, replying in the same language. Then he looked towards Fidelma and seemed to ask a question. Eadulf turned with an apology.

  ‘This is my younger brother, Egric.’ The introduction was almost unnecessary. With the two of them, side by side, the likeness was obvious.

  ‘He said as much,’ Gormán told them. ‘But I had to make sure. Now we shall leave you to your family reunion.’ He motioned to Enda to follow him from the room.

  After Eadulf had introduced Fidelma, Muirgen was summoned to bring drinks and refreshment as they seated themselves before the fire.

  ‘There is obviously much to catch up on,’ Eadulf said, first in his own tongue and then he lapsed into Latin, knowing that Fidelma was fluent in that. ‘Do you know enough of the tongue to follow?’ he asked his brother.

  Egric chuckled. ‘I spent some time among the followers of the New Faith, but I also speak a dialect of the tongue of this country. I was converted to the Faith by teachers from this land, just as you were. Not only that, I spent some years among the Cruthin of the north as a missionary after Oswy defeated them in battle. There were many from Dál Riada who had settled among them and speaking a similar tongue, so I was able to extend my knowledge.’

  ‘You and Eadulf will have much to talk about.’ Fidelma reverted to her own language, deciding to test Egric’s knowledge. The thought had struck her that he must have had a sufficient command of the language to have communicated to Gormán and the others. ‘But first things first: what purpose brought you here?’

  ‘It is a long story but I shall make it short,’ replied Egric. ‘I don’t know whether Eadulf has told you of my past?’

  Fidelma frowned for a moment and then decided that she could only speak the truth. ‘I am afraid that he has never mentioned his brother.’

  Eadulf appeared uncomfortable for a moment. ‘It was because I thought him dead. As young men we were converted to the New Faith by Fursa and his brothers. They were missionaries from this land who came to preach in the Kingdom of the East Angles. Fursa inspired me to study at Tuam Brecain and so I left Seaxmund’s Ham. I had thought young Egric had gone to join Athelwold’s warriors at Rendel’s Ham. Egric was always dreaming about becoming a warrior. At the time, our land was threatened by Wulfhere of Mercia and an army was being raised. When I returned to Seaxmund’s Ham, no one had news of Egric. I never heard from him again until this moment. I truly thought he had perished in a battle.’

  ‘A boy may grow to maturity,’ shrugged Egric. ‘I decided to follow the Faith and not the army.’

  ‘But it is amazing to meet up after all these years – and to meet here, of all places in the world!’ Eadulf exclaimed.

  ‘Our paths never seemed to cross after you left Seaxmund’s Ham, brother. I found myself among a band of brethren at the court of Oswy at Streonshalh. It was there I heard your name spoken of in connection with the Great Debate that had been held there. But it was said that you had gone on to Rome.’

  ‘True enough,’ agreed Eadulf. ‘That was my second journey to Rome.’

  ‘Oswy had accepted the Rule of Rome, even though there were still some among his priests and bishops who favoured the ways of the missionaries of Aidan of Iona, who brought the Faith to Northumbria,’ explained Fidelma. ‘Eadulf and I made the journey to Rome together. So what abbey did you join when you were in Streonshalh?’

  ‘I did not,’ Egric replied. ‘Oswy wanted new missionaries to preach the Faith among the Cruthin over whose kingdom he ruled as lord. Thus I went to that land and spent some years preaching among them as well as learning their language.’ He paused and then went on: ‘Last year, before spring was on us, Oswy died. The Cruthin were then ruled by Drust, son of Donal, who had been a client king under Oswy. The Cruthin had long chafed under what they saw as rule by foreigners, and now they rose up in rebellion. I had to flee for my life. I managed to make my way back to Streonshalh.

  ‘Things were also changing in Oswy’s kingdom. There was a confusion of sub-kings of Deira and Northumbria, each vying for power. Wilfrid, who had led the pro-Roman faction at the Great Debate at Streonshalh, had obtained almost a king-like power. He began ensuring the removal of many of those who were of the old Columban Church, like Bishop Chad. Presumably he wanted them removed from any position where they might harm his Roman party. Even Oswy’s wife, Eanfleda, and her daughter had fled for safety into the abbey of the dead King’s relative, Hilda, who also still favours the teachings of Colmcille. Apparently, Wilfrid had full permission of Theodore of Canterbury to pursue these policies, and now Theodore had designated Wilfrid as Bishop of Northumbria.’

  He paused to sip thoughtfully at his drink.

  ‘Anyway, Oswy’s Kingdom was not mine and so I was thinking of going south. I made my way to the town of the people of Kent. It was there I met an aging cleric from Rome, the Venerable Victricius of Palestrina. He told me that he had been given a mission from Theodore, Archbishop of Canterbury, to journey to this kingdom and contact some people here. The Venerable Victricius knew little of the tongue therefore asked me to accompany him as translator and companion.’

  ‘So it was Theodore who sent you hither?’ Eadulf was regarding him in surprise. ‘This is a curious tale, brother, for I myself was adviser to Theodore during my short time in Rome and accompanied him to the Kingdom of Kent. Then it was as his emissary that I came here – and here I have remained.’

  ‘Understand that I did not meet with Theodore, but all my dealings were with the Venerable Victricius,’ Egric said hurriedly.

  ‘Why did Theodore of Canterbury send this Venerable Victricius hither to this corner of the world?’ asked Eadulf. ‘Is it the same mission that brings Bishop Arwald of Magonsaete to this kingdom?’

  Egric sat up, suddenly alert. ‘Is Bishop Arwald here?’

  ‘He is expected to arrive any day soon. So, there is some connection?’

  Egric seemed to relax with a slight shrug. ‘Perhaps. Alas, Victricius never shared the objective of his mission with me; I was merely asked to act as companion and interpreter on his journey here.’

  Fidelma and Eadulf glanced at one another in surprise.

  ‘He never gave a single hint of his purpose during the long journey here?’ demanded Fidelma. ‘Did he mention Bishop Arwald?’

  Egric shook his head. ‘Bishop Arwald was known at Canterbury, but I have never met him.’

  ‘Then, by the holy rood, this is a curious tale,’ Eadulf declared in astonishment.

  ‘The Venerable Victricius did not explain anything,’ insisted Egric. ‘He had a box with him and was very careful of it. When we were attacked, the contents were destroyed or carried off by the raiders. I never found out what was in it.’

  ‘So never once, on the long journey between Canterbury and here, did your companion take you into his confidence about the purpose of your journey,’ clarified Fidelma.

  ‘That is the truth, lady. The Venerable Victricius was the type of person who keeps his own counsel. I know it is hard to believe that I could journey with him under those conditions, but I did so – and willingly. My allegiance was to Venerable Victricius; his was to Theodore of Canterbury; and Theodore’s allegiance was to Vitalian of Rome. It was as simple as that. I accepted that I would be told the purpose, when the time was right for me to be told.’

  Fidelma bowed her head. Her voice was slightly cynical when she responded: ‘In such blind faith and obedience, you certainly differ from your brother. But now the Venerable Victricius is dead and his papers disappeared, how then will you be able to fulfil his purpose if you do not know it?’

  ‘I cannot,’ replied Egric simply. ‘All his papers seem lost.’

  ‘I suppose you will be told when Bishop Arwald arrives with his companions,’ Fidelma said.

  ‘His companions?’ There seemed uneasiness in the way Egric asked the question.

  ‘A Roman cleric named Verax.’

  Egric sighed. ‘I do not know him.’

  ‘What about Brother Cerdic – do you know him?’ Fidelma asked suddenly.

  Egric turned to her, startled. ‘What name do you say?’

  ‘Brother Cerdic,’ she repeated carefully.

  This time, Egric tried to assume a blank expression but it was clear the name had registered. ‘Brother Cerdic? I don’t think so. Who is he?’

  ‘An emissary sent here to announce the imminent arrival of a deputation from Theodore of Canterbury.’

  There was an awkward silence and then Egric said: ‘Are you saying that Brother Cerdic is here already? Perhaps he could explain everything.’

  ‘He can’t,’ Eadulf replied shortly.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ his brother returned with a puzzled glance.

  ‘He is dead.’

  Egric paled. ‘Dead? Cerdic is dead?’

  ‘He was murdered this morning in the chapel here. We don’t know by whom or why.’ Eadulf went on: ‘You seem disturbed, Egric, yet you said that you don’t know him.’

  Egric passed a hand slowly across his brow. ‘Nor do I,’ he maintained. ‘But a Saxon visitor to this place … I may be in some danger. I have already survived one attack that killed my companion.’

  ‘It is true there is a mystery here,’ Fidelma said patiently. ‘So that is why we require all the information we can get in order to resolve it.’

  ‘Of course,’ Egric nodded. ‘I am but newly arrived here and my first encounter with any animosity was the attack on my companion and myself on the river.’

  ‘We will do our best to bring the culprits to justice.’ Fidelma rose. ‘Meanwhile, the news of your coming will have spread through the palace. It will be a breach of protocol and manners to keep you to ourselves any longer. First, we will take you to meet the King. You must also meet with Abbot Ségdae who is the Chief Bishop of the Kingdom.’

  ‘Is it really necessary for me to meet the King and his bishop?’ Egric seemed reluctant. ‘My journey has been long and not without incident. I feel quite exhausted.’

  ‘You are Eadulf’s brother,’ Fidelma said. ‘Eadulf is my husband. The King is my brother. Thus your arrival becomes a family matter. The King will want to meet the brother of my husband, especially in view of the circumstances.’

  Egric caught the word and said sharply, ‘What circumstances?’

  ‘The imminent arrival of this deputation, the death of Brother Cerdic, this emissary – not to mention the attack on yourself and your companion. Obviously, the Venerable Victricius of Palestrina must have been a man of authority from Rome. There is already an atmosphere of menace spreading through Cashel.’

  ‘We’ll present Egric to Colgú at once,’ agreed Eadulf. ‘Or perhaps Egric would like to see his nephew first?’

  Egric looked startled.

  ‘Our son, little Alchú,’ Fidelma explained. Then she turned to Eadulf and reminded him: ‘You forget the lateness of the hour, Eadulf. I cannot wake Alchú up even to meet his new uncle. Muirgen would never allow it. There will be plenty of time for that tomorrow. First, we must take you to meet the King.’

  As they rose, Egric cast a nervous glance at Fidelma and then turned to his brother, speaking in their own language.

  ‘I would like to … er, visit the privy before being conducted into the King’s presence,’ he said awkwardly.

  ‘Come, I’ll take you there.’ Eadulf glanced at Fidelma, not wishing to embarrass his brother by pointing out that Fidelma had a knowledge of their language. ‘We will rejoin you in a moment.’

  Outside the chamber, Egric seemed embarrassed. ‘I am sorry, I don’t remember any polite words for a privy in the language of this land.’

  ‘Polite?’ Eadulf smiled. ‘Well, you can call it a fialtech or veil house. A urinal is called a fúatech.’ He pointed to a nearby door and added: ‘I’ll wait here for you. It is the custom here to wash your hands in a basin in the corner,’ he added. The people of the Five Kingdoms were fastidious about washing rituals. There was the full bath at night and then the morning wash. He knew that this was unusual among his own people, so felt it necessary to point it out to Egric.

  His brother nodded and pushed inside. It was not long before he came out. Noticing his brother’s frown, Egric asked: ‘Is there something wrong?’

  ‘Not really. I just thought it was the custom among all religious to perform the Sign of the Cross on entering and leaving the privy.’

  Egric chuckled. ‘What use would that be?’

  ‘Oh, it is the belief that the privy is the abode of demons, and whoever enters is enjoined to bless the demons and themselves. Similarly a blessing is usual on leaving it.’

  ‘A quaint custom,’ Egric replied, amused. ‘But now, do you think that your wife, Fidelma, is right in that the people here are afraid of this recent murder?’

  ‘I am not sure that she used the word “afraid”,’ replied Eadulf. ‘The murder of a foreign emissary – a religious emissary – in the King’s own palace, is certainly disturbing. Then you arrive and tell us that you have been attacked and that your companion, an eminent religious from Rome, has been killed. That is enough to cause consternation anywhere.’

  ‘Eminent?’

  ‘The title Venerable is not lightly obtained.’

  ‘True enough, I suppose.’

  Fidelma was right about the atmosphere in Cashel. By the time they conducted Egric to the King’s chambers, the whole of the palace was abounding with wild speculation.

  Egric was greeted with due politeness by Colgú and Abbot Ségdae, yet Fidelma noticed that he seemed very ill at ease. Many pressed him for details about the attack on the river, especially Brehon Aillín, who was inclined to a sharpness of tongue and obvious suspicion when he questioned the young man.

  ‘The Brehon at Cluain Meala is investigating,’ said Gormán, who was in attendance and apparently felt sorry for the deluge of questions Egric was facing. ‘He shares my suspicions about the Déisi outlaws.’