‘But Solin and Dianach came into Gleann Geis alone,’ interrupted Orla, with a flushed face. ‘Any of our guards at the ravine will tell you that.’
‘I will not argue,’ Fidelma replied evenly, ‘for you are correct. Brother Solin and young Dianach entered Gleann Geis alone … having left the woman. She showed two of Ailech’s warriors the path which the Cashel cleric was likely to come by, the spot where the bodies must be laid out. Then she entered the valley by anotherway she knew, the secret path along the river where Artgal’s body was found.’
Orla was about to say something when her husband intervened.
‘You say these warriors of Sechnassuch followed these people here? Where are they? What proof do we have of what you say?’
‘You ought to have deduced that the warriors who have secured this ráth are the same men. Ibor of Muirthemne is their leader and not a horse dealer. Ibor is commander of the Craobh Rígh of Ulaidh.’
Ibor took a step forward and bowed stiffly towards Laisre.
‘At your command, chieftain of Gleann Geis,’ he said formally but with humour in his voice.
‘Not my command,’ replied Laisre with distaste. ‘Get on with this tedious tale, Fidelma.’
‘Mael Dúin’s men and their hostages approached Gleann Geis. The men from Ailech, for I will not grace them with the term “warriors” as they were no more than butchers, were watching for the cleric from Cashel. In other words they were watching for me. As soon as Eadulf and I had been spotted, the ritual slaughter began. The bodies were placed in position for me to find. The rest was going to be up to me.
‘I hindered their plan, however, because I did not flee in horror from the spot to raise Cashel’s wrath against Gleann Geis and plunge Muman into civil war.’
‘Yes, yes, yes! You have made your point, Fidelma of Cashel,’ Murgal said hurriedly. ‘But the fact is that once you knew of this matter, it provided you with the best motive for killing Solin. Better than anyone here.’
‘Anyone except the killer. The fact is, I did not know about this plot at the time of Solin’s death nor his involvement in it. The fact of his involvement was only later revealed to me by Ibor of Muirthemne. That was when I realised there were two different affairs taking place. The barbarous, to use Laisre’s well-chosen word, plot against Muman and a simple murder … though murder is never simple.’
She paused and shrugged.
‘Before I go further I should present the evidence of who in Gleann Geis was involved with the terrible plot of the king of Ailech. I would remind you of the woman who met Mael Dúin’s men. Ibor and his warriors saw her …’
Fidelma turned directly to Orla.
‘The person was a woman, a woman of commanding appearance.’
Orla suppressed a cry of rage.
‘Do you see what she is doing? This is the second time that she has accused me of murder. Not content with claiming that I killed Solin of Armagh, she would now accuse me of a heinous crime against my people. I shall destroy you for this, Fidelma of Cashel …’
She tugged out a knife from her belt and made to spring forward.
Ibor had moved towards her but Colla already stood in her path, placing himself defensively in front of his wife. He reached forward and took the knife gently but firmly from her hand.
‘This is no answer, Orla,’ he said gruffly. ‘No harm will come to you while I defend you.’ He rounded on Fidelma, his eyes blazing in anger. ‘You will have me to deal with,
Fidelma spread her arms nonchalantly.
‘So far, I do not recall having made any accusations, false or otherwise. I am simply stating facts. You will know when I have made accusations.’
Colla grew bewildered, he took a step forward but Ibor touched him lightly on the arm with his sword point and shook his head, reaching out a hand for Orla’s dagger. Automatically, Colla handed it to him without thinking or protesting. Ibor then motioned him to resume his place.
‘Let us return to what became a weak link in this terrible tragic chain. Brother Solin of Armagh. Brother Solin was a man of ambition. He was ambitious and sly, a worthy plotter in this affair. But he had a weakness. He was, in a word, a lecher. He made a lewd suggestion to you, didn’t he, Orla?’
The wife of the tanist’s face went crimson.
‘I could take care of myself,’ she muttered, ‘especially with such a man.’
‘Indeed, you could. You hit him once.’
‘I dealt with him,’ replied Orla softly. ‘He did not lay a hand on me. He just made a lewd suggestion. A thing he swiftly regretted. He learnt his lesson.’
‘No, he didn’t,’ contradicted Fidelma. ‘He was an incurable lecher. He lusted after someone else. Someone else not only slapped him but threw wine over him. You will recall, Orla, that I asked if you had thrown wine over Solin?’
Orla was still suspicious.
‘I told you I did not and I did not.’
‘True. You see, there is another attractive woman in the ráth,isn’t there, Murgal? In fact, a woman who has some resemblance to Orla, tall and with a commanding appearance.’
The Druid frowned, trying to understand her path of thought.
‘You found out that she was unappreciative of your own advances, didn’t you? At the feast, Marga the apothecary slapped you across the face.’
Murgal blinked with embarrassment.
‘Everyone saw it,’ he muttered uncomfortably. ‘Why should I deny it? But I do not understand where you are leading us.’
Fidelma now faced Marga. The apothecary’s face was an interesting study of emotions.
‘Brother Solin had not only made a lewd suggestion to you … he came to your chambers and tried to force himself on you.’
Marga raised her chin aggressively.
‘I threw wine over him to quell his ardour. I slapped him. He did not bother me again. I did not kill the man.’
‘But he had made advances to you, Marga,’ insisted Fidelma quietly. ‘And for that reason Brother Solin was murdered.’
There was a sudden quiet in the chamber broken only by a sob of denial from the apothecary. Everyone was staring at Marga. The pudgy figure of Cruinn moved forward and put an arm around the girl.
‘Are you telling us that Marga killed Solin?’ gasped Murgal.
‘No,’ Fidelma replied immediately. ‘What I said was that Solin’s attack on Marga was the triggering point for his murder.’
‘Are you also claiming now that it was not Orla but Marga whom you saw at the stables?’ pressed Colla.
Fidelma shook her head negatively.
‘It was someone who looked exactly like Orla, and that misled me. They were clad in a cloak and hood so that I saw only the top part of their face as the light fell on them.’
She turned to Laisre.
‘It was not until I saw the top part of your face above the wooden screen last night, Laisre, in just such a light, that I realised the mistake I had made. It was you, Laisre of Gleann Geis, who came out of the stable, not your twin sister, Orla.’
Chapter Twenty
Laisre sat back in his chair as if he had been struck a blow. He stared in open-mouthed dismay.
There was no mercy in Fidelma’s eyes as she made her accusation.
He swallowed and then, curiously, the chieftain of Gleann Geis seemed to hunch in his chair and throw out
