Hemlock at Vespers

Surely, he would do his best to support Ailill so that when civil strife arose over the non-production of the sacred sword, Ailill, as Tanist, the heir presumptive, would be in a position to immediately claim the throne of Sechnasach?”

“What are you saying?” asked Sechnasach, trying to keep track of Sister Fidelma’s reasoning.

Sister Fidelma turned to him, her blue eyes level, her tone unhurried.

“There is another factor in this tale of political intrigue. Cernach Mac Diarmuid. His name was mentioned to me several times as a fierce adherent of Rome.”

The young man who had so far stood aloof and frowning, now started, his cheeks reddening. A hand dropped to his side as if seeking a weapon. But no one, save the High King’s bodyguard, was allowed to carry a weapon in Tara’s halls.

“What do you mean by this?”

“Cernach desired the throne of Tara. As son of one of the joint High Kings, he felt that it was his due. But moreover, he would benefit most if both Sechnasach and Ailill were discredited.”

“Why…” Cernach started forward, anger on his face. One of the warriors gripped the young man’s arm so tightly that he winced. He turned and tried to shake off the grip but made no further aggressive move.

Sister Fidelma spoke to one of the guards.

“Is the warrior, Erc, outside?”

The guard moved to the door and called.

The burly warrior entered holding something wrapped in cloth. He glanced at Sister Fidelma and nodded briefly.

Sister Fidelma turned back to the High King.

“Sechnasach, I ordered this man, Erc, to search the chamber of Cernach.”

Cernach’s face was suddenly bloodless. His eyes were bright, staring at the object in Erc’s hand.

“What did you find there, Erc?” asked Sister Fidelma quietly.

The warrior moved forward to the High King’s seat, unwrapping the cloth as he did so. He held out the uncovered object. In his hands there was revealed a sword of rich gold and silver mountings, encrusted with a colorful display of jewels.

“The Caladchalog!” gasped the High King. “The sword of state!”

“It’s a lie! A lie!” cried Cernach, his lips trembling. “It was planted there. She must have planted it there!”

He threw out an accusing finger toward Sister Fidelma. Sister Fidelma simply ignored him.

“Where did you find this, Erc?”

The burly warrior licked his lips. It was clear he felt awkward in the presence of the High King.

“It was lying wrapped in cloth under the bed of Cernach, the son of Diarmuid,” he replied, brusquely.

Everyone’s eyes had fallen on the trembling young man.

“Was it easy to find, Erc?” asked Sister Fidelma.

The burly warrior managed a smile. “Almost too easy.”

“Almost too easy,” repeated Sister Fidelma with a soft emphasis.

“Why did you do this deed, Cernach Mac Diarmuid?” thundered Sechnasach. “How could you behave so treacherously?”

“But Cernach did not do it.”

Fidelma’s quiet voice caused everyone to turn back to stare at her in astonishment.

“Who then, if not Cernach?” demanded the High King in bewilderment.

“The art of deduction is a science as intricate as any of the mysteries of the ancients,” Sister Fidelma commented with a sigh. “In this matter I found myself dealing with a mind as complicated in thinking and as ruthless in its goal as any I have encountered. But then the stake was the High Kingship of Ireland.”

She paused and gazed around at the people in the chamber, letting her eyes finally rest on Sechnasach.

“There has been one thing which has been troubling me from the start. Why I was called to Tara to investigate this matter? My poor reputation in law is scarcely known out of the boundaries of Holy Brigid’s house at Kildare. In Tara, at the seat of the High Kings, there are many better qualified in law, many more able dálaigh of the Brehon Courts, many more renowned Brehons. The Abbot Colmán admitted that someone had told him about me for he did not know me. I have had a growing feeling that I was being somehow used. But why? For what purpose? By whom? It seemed so obvious that Ailill was demonstrably innocent of the crime. Why was it obvious?”

Ailill started, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her. Sister Fi-delma continued oblivious of the tension in the chamber.

“Abbot Colmán summoned me hither. He had much to gain from this affair, as we have discussed. He also had the opportunity to carry out the crime.”

“That’s not true!” cried the Abbot.

Sister Fidelma turned and smiled at the ruddy-faced cleric.

“You are right, Colmán. And I have already conceded that fact. You did not do it.”

“But the sword was found in Cernach’s chamber,” Sechnasach pointed out. “He must surely be guilty.”

“Several times I was pointed toward Cernach as a vehement advocate of Roman reforms. A youthful hothead, was one description. Several times I was encouraged to think that the motive lay in replacing Sechnasach, a traditionalist, with someone who would encourage those reforms. And, obligingly, the sword was placed in Cernach’s chamber by the real culprit, for us to find. To Cernach my footsteps were carefully pointed… But why Cer-nach? He was not even of the age of choice, so what could he gain?”

There was a silence as they waited tensely for her to continue.

“Abbot Colmán told me that Cernach was a supporter of Rome. So did Ailill and so did Ornait. But Ornait was the only one who told me that Cernach desired the throne, even though unable to do so by his age. Ornait also told me that he would be of age within a month.”

Sister Fidelma suddenly wheeled round on the girl.

“Ornait was also the only person who knew of my reputation as a solver of mysteries. Ornait told the Abbot and encouraged him to send for me. Is this not so?”

She glanced back to Abbot Colmán who nodded in confusion.

Ornait had gone white, staring at Sister Fidelma.

“Are you saying that I stole the sword?” she whispered with ice in her voice.

“That’s ridiculous!” cried Sechnasach. “Ornait is my sister.”

“Nevertheless, the guilty ones are Ailill and Ornait,” replied Sister Fidelma.

“But you have just demonstrated that Ailill was innocent of the crime,” Sechnasach said in total bewilderment.

“No. I demonstrated that evidence was left for me in order that I would believe Ailill was innocent; that he could not have carried out the deed as it was claimed he had. When things are obvious, beware of them.”

“But why would Omait take part in this theft?” demanded the High King.

“Ornait conceived the plan. Its cunning was her own. It was carried out by Ailill and herself and no others.”

“Explain.”

“Ailill and Ornait entered the chapel that night in the normal way through the passage. They proceeded to carry out the plan. Ornait took the sword while Ailill broke the bolt, making sure of the obvious mistake. They relied on discovery by the two guards and Ailill waited for them. But, as always in such carefully laid plans, there comes the unexpected. As Ornait was proceeding back through the passage she saw the Abbot coming along it. He had left his Psalter in the sacristy and needed it. She pressed into an alcove and hid until he had gone by. When she left the alcove she tore her gown on some obstruction.”

Sister Fidelma held out the small piece of frayed colorful cloth.

“But the rest of the plan worked perfectly. Ailill was imprisoned. The second part of the plan was now put into place. Ornait had been informed by a sister from my house at Kildare that I was a solver of mysteries. In fact, without undue modesty, I may say that Ornait’s entire plan had been built around me. When the sword could not be found, she was able to persuade Abbot Colmán to send for me to investigate its mysterious