‘Caol, my lord. Fifteen years in the service of the kings of Muman.’
‘I see, Caol, that you wear the golden necklet of the élite bodyguard of Cashel,’ Colgú said.
The warrior was not sure if this was a question or simply a statement of fact, as his emblem was obvious.
‘I do, lord,’ he responded.
‘We have heard, Caol, that you were on guard on the day Sárait was killed,’ Colgú went on.
‘I was on guard at the main gate of the palace, lord.’
‘Tell us, in your own words, what happened.’
‘It was just after darkness fell, late in the afternoon, that a child approached the gates. I did not recognise him for it was dark and even by the torchlight at the gates the manner of his clothing hid his features. But I doubt whether I have seen him before.’
Eadulf frowned. ‘You say “him”. Are you certain of the child’s sex? In which case, presumably, you could see enough to tell whether the child was girl or boy?’
The warrior glanced at him and hesitated before replying.
‘Speak up, man!’ snapped Brehon Dathal.
The child was clad in a robe from poll to ankle, a cowl being around its head. Yet I would say that it was male.’
‘Why so? And why, not being able to perceive the features, did you also say that you doubt whether you had seen the child before?’ Brehon Dathal said pointedly.
‘The same answer applies to both questions. The child, in spite of the robes, seemed thickset in appearance and walked with a curious waddling gait. I believe that no girl would be so thickset, and that figure and gait would have been known to me if it were a child I had seen in the township or the palace. So I therefore concluded it was a stranger.’
Brehon Dathal sniffed irritably.
‘It behoves you only to tell us the facts,’ he rebuked the warrior. ‘This is speculation.’
‘Nevertheless,’ intervened Bishop Ségdae with a smile, ‘it is a logical conclusion to have drawn.’
‘You told Capa that the child was mute,’ went on Brehon Dathal, a tone of sarcasm entering his voice. ‘How did you conclude that? Speculation again?’
‘That is simple, learned Brehon. The child did not talk but handed me a piece of birch bark on which was written “I am sent to see Sárait”. By signs and grunting noises the child indicated that he could not speak. I told him how to find her chamber.’
‘And you didn’t retain this piece of bark?’ asked Eadulf.
The warrior shook his head. ‘There was no reason for me to do so.’
‘In what form was the writing?’
The warrior looked perplexed.
‘Was it in the old form that you call ogham script or in the new script?’ Eadulf explained.
‘I cannot read the ogham,’ replied the warrior. ‘But I have been taught to read by the monks of Lios Mhór. The message was written in the new script that we now learn, and in bold letters.’
‘Then what happened?’ asked Brehon Dathal.
‘A short while later, the child returned through the gate and did not respond to my salutation, from which I felt that he was not only dumb but hard of hearing. He disappeared into the night and I presumed at the time he was heading down the hill to the township. A short time elapsed and then Sárait came hurrying through the gates with a baby in her arms and told me that she had been called urgently to see her sister and would return shortly should anyone enquire after her or the child. She told me there was no one with whom she could safely leave the baby so she was taking it with her. That is all I know of these matters until someone came from the village on the orders of Capa to say Sárait’s body had been discovered.’
‘Which was when?’ asked Eadulf.
‘Towards the end of my period of duty, just before midnight.’
‘Yet Sárait had told you that she would return shortly and she had not returned by midnight. Were you not worried for her?’
Caol shook his head. ‘She had told me that she was visiting her sister. Everyone knows Gobnat. Her husband stands before you, the commander of the king’s guards. Capa would have seen her safely back to the palace.’
There was a silence. Then Colgú dismissed the warrior and turned to Capa.
‘You may bring in your wife.’
The woman who entered looked slightly awed by the company. She was an attractive woman, although no beauty. Her features were perhaps a little too sharp and angular for that. Eadulf could recognise something of Sárait in her sister. Gobnat had a certain amount of strength in her features, almost a defiance, that was not possessed by the dead nurse. Sárait was softer, Eadulf thought, while Gobnat’s mouth was firmly set. She exchanged a quick glance with her husband, as if seeking reassurance, then came to stand somewhat stiffly before the king.
‘Do not be nervous, Gobnat.’ Colgú smiled quickly. ‘You know all of us and we have spoken with you severally during these last few days. You also know that we share your sorrow over the death of your sister.’
The woman bobbed as if performing a curtsey.
‘I do, my lord. Thank you.’
The Brehon Dathal was sterner than the king.
‘We want you to place in evidence your knowledge of the events of Sárait’s death. We are told that she received a message telling her that you wanted to see her urgently. Not finding anyone to take care of the baby, she took him with her and went to see you.’
Gobnat shook her head. ‘Not so, lord. All I know is that Conchoille, the woodsman, came to my door and told me that he had found my sister’s body,’ she said in a broken voice. ‘I could not believe it as she lived and worked here, in the safety of the palace. Conchoille said that she was in the woods outside the village. My husband sent a message to the palace and went with Conchoille to recover the body. Between them they brought it to my house.’
‘And you had not sent your sister a message that evening asking her to come to see you as a matter of urgency?’ asked Bishop Ségdae in a more kindly voice than Brehon Dathal had employed.
‘I had not.’
‘You did not send a message by a child?’ pressed Brehon Dathal, determined not to be left out.
‘I have told you. I did not.’ Gobnat stood twisting her hands together, clearly upset by the elderly judge’s tone.
‘You do not know any such child as is said to have delivered the message to Sárait?’ Brehon Dathal seemed to wish to labour the matter.
‘An improper question,’ snapped Bishop Ségdae. ‘The witness was not here when the description was given by Caol.’
Brehon Dathal flushed and Colgú hurriedly intervened again to keep the peace.
‘This is not a court of law, so we do not have to be so formal. However, I think that we may accept Gobnat’s word that she did not send any message to her sister at that time.’
‘What time did the news come to you of the discovery of Sárait’s body?’ asked Eadulf.
‘My husband and I were about to retire for the night. That was just before midnight.’
‘And your husband had been with you since when?’ asked Brehon Dathal.
Gobnat frowned quickly before answering.
‘He had returned from the palace for the evening meal. That was a few hours after dusk had fallen. We had eaten, talked a little and were preparing for bed, as I have said.’
Bishop Ségdae was nodding sympathetically.
‘It is as Capa says,’ he said heavily for Brehon Dathal’s benefit. Then he turned to the warrior. ‘I suppose that you have asked throughout the township and surrounding countryside whether anyone recognised the description of the child given by Caol?’
‘It was my first thought to make such enquiries, lord,’ replied Capa.
