A Prayer for the Damned

‘What did you do?’ asked Eadulf.

‘I gently stroked him on the head with the blunt part of my sword, and while he was stunned I tied his hands with some cord.’

Fidelma grimaced. ‘He will doubtless complain of ill treatment but you did the right thing. Where is he now?’

‘Well, I know he is a guest here but, judging by his behaviour, he needed to be placed somewhere secure until you can decide what to do with him. I had him placed in the Duma na nGiall.’

At the back of the fortress was an area that was separated from the rest of the palace buildings by a high wall through which only someone with authority or special permission could enter. It was know by the ancient name Duma na nGiall — the mound of hostages. Nobles who had been taken prisoner in battle, who would not give their gell, their word of honour, not to escape, were imprisoned there. Until recently it was where the Uí Fidgente chieftains had been held until the peace with the new Uí Fidgente prince Donennach was concluded.

‘Has my brother been informed of this?’

Caol nodded quickly. ‘I explained the circumstances. The king said that he would inform Blathmac of Ulaidh because Drón was theoretically under his protection. Colgú does not want any arguments to arise. .’

Fidelma held up her hand, nodding.

‘. . over such a sensitive matter,’ she concluded. ‘He is punctilious.’

‘But Colgú agreed to allow Drón’s incarceration until your return.’

‘So Brother Drón is still incarcerated in the Duma na nGiall?’

‘He is.’

‘Good. I will see my brother before I have a long talk with Brother Drón.’

She turned to Eadulf as they began to walk back across the courtyard to the main buildings.

‘Find Pecanum and Naovan in the hostel for the male religious in the town. Tell them gently what has happened to their father. Take Gormán and two spare horses with you and go to Ardane, as we have agreed. Explain to Miach that he should do all he can to help Brother Berrihert and his brothers with their burial of their father. They must be allowed to do it in the manner they think fit. Say it is my wish.’

‘I will. But what of you? This means I shall not be back before tomorrow morning at the earliest. You promised the High King that you would tell him tonight who killed Ultán and Muirchertach.’

Fidelma gave him a reassuring look. ‘I promised only to tell him whether I was in a position to have a hearing before the Chief Brehon. I think I can do that now. Don’t worry, I shall not be bringing this matter to a conclusion before your return. We need all the suspects to be brought together here before that can happen. So make sure that you return safely with Brother Berrihert and his brothers.’

Colgú was actually with Blathmac when Fidelma was shown into her brother’s chambers. The king of Ulaidh looked up with a frown.

‘You are placing a heavy burden on me, lady,’ he greeted her sourly.

Fidelma took a seat before the fire.

‘What burden would that be, Blathmac?’ she inquired innocently.

‘The incarceration of Brother Drón of Cill Ria.’

‘Why would that be a burden?’ she asked as she warmed herself at the flames.

‘Whatever has happened here, lady, and however Ultán and Drón have been regarded, they were still the emissaries of Ségéne, abbot of Ard Macha, and, moreover, the Comarb of the Blessed Patrick. It is to Ségéne that I have to justify these events. Even if the southern kingdoms do not regard him as the senior bishop in the five kingdoms, we in the northern kingdoms do so. Abbot Ségéne can be a powerful friend and a powerful enemy. Remember that I am king of Ulaidh and if I am not seen to be protecting the interests of my people — all my people, the good and the bad — then my position will be questioned.’

Colgú was anxious to placate his fellow king. ‘We understand that, Blathmac.’ He glanced at his sister. ‘Fidelma, is there a good reason to hold Brother Drón in such a manner?’

‘I am afraid so. Caol has undoubtedly informed you of the facts?’

‘He has, and I have explained them to Blathmac.’

‘I simply require him to be held long enough for me to question him,’ Fidelma explained.

‘You are no longer suggesting that he killed Muirchertach?’ inquired Blathmac.

‘I have long ago learned to refrain from speculation until I know all the facts. I know that he has taken a curious interest in one of the Cill Ria group — Sister Marga. I want to know why, and until I have put these questions to him I cannot allow him to range across the country at will, which is what he is intent on doing. Do you know anything about him, Blathmac?’

The Ulaidh king made a negative gesture.

‘I try to avoid having anything to do with the abbey of Cill Ria,’ he confessed. ‘You have doubtless talked to my cousin Fergus Fanat on that subject, since he had some interest there. But Abbot Ultán was not a person I favoured. God forbid, but I think the judgement of the wind and waves was wrong on the day that he was washed back to shore and claimed conversion to the Faith.’

‘Did you believe that conversion was not genuine?’

‘Whether I did or not, the Comarb of Patrick thought it was and welcomed Ultán into his circle of friends and senior clerics. And Drón, as you may know, was trained at Ard Macha and sent as a scribe to Ultán. What I am saying is that Abbot Ultán and Brother Drón have powerful friends at Ard Macha. So we must walk softly in their shadows. Even a king such as I has to be careful.’

‘I understand,’ Fidelma said. ‘I will ensure that Drón is held no longer than is necessary. In fact, I came only to reinforce what Caol has told you before I go to question him.’

‘You have my gratitude, lady,’ Blathmac acknowledged. ‘I hope this whole matter will come to a speedy conclusion.’

Fidelma left them and went to find Caol before making her way to the back of the palace complex and the gates of the area separated from the rest of the buildings by a high wall.

The same wiry little man that Fidelma had already encountered during the release of the Uí Fidgente prisoners was still the giallchométaide, or chief jailer. Fidelma found that she still did not trust him but put it down to his unfortunate ferret features: the close-set eyes, thin lips and ready smile. However, it did not signify whether she liked the jailer or not, provided he was efficient in his job.

He unlocked the gate at their approach, smiling and bobbing his head in obeisance.

‘Welcome, lady, welcome, commander. How may I serve you?’

‘We have come to question Brother Drón whom you hold here,’ Fidelma replied, trying to hide her irritation at the man’s ingratiating behaviour.

‘Brother Drón?’ The man’s smile suddenly seemed fixed and he echoed the name as if it had no meaning.

‘I do not have much time,’ she said tersely. ‘Come, take me to him.’

The jailer looked at her and now dismay was registering on his face. ‘But, lady, your brother the king ordered Brother Drón’s release an hour ago.’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Fidelma’s brows drew together in anger as she stared at the jailer’s bewildered features. ‘Don’t be silly, man! I have just come from my brother, and am here to question the prisoner.’

The man’s face was pale. ‘But. . but. .’

Fidelma was impatient. ‘Take me to the prisoner immediately.’

‘But I tell you the truth, lady,’ replied the dismayed jailer. ‘I released Brother Drón over an hour ago. The Brehon Ninnid ordered his release in the name of King Colgú.’

Fidelma stared aghast at the man. ‘Brehon Ninnid did what?’