palace. He frowned as he thought about it. He felt that he wanted to leave Cashel and make his way to some more peaceful spot, away from the crowds, away from the dignitaries and nobles, away from the hustle and bustle. A place of solitude. A place like the glen of Eatharlaí. Brother Berrihert had the right idea. Solitude and peace in a wooded valley.
He suddenly felt pangs of guilt again.
Was he being selfish? Of course, there was no question that he wanted to share his life with Fidelma and little Alchú. He caught himself again. Share his life? That was looking at things from a one-sided viewpoint. Should he not also be thinking of sharing Fidelma’s life, and wasn’t that life part of Cashel and all it stood for? He shook his head in perplexity as he tried to reason things out. Was he simply apprehensive of this large festival? As soon as it was over, as soon as the marriage contracts were agreed, surely life would return to its normal ebb and flow.
When had there been a normal ebb and flow to his life? Ever since he had known Fidelma there had been one adventure after another, one mysterious killing after another to be investigated. He found himself chuckling aloud.
‘You seem amused by something, my friend?’
The hollow voice came from behind him, and Eadulf turned to find the bright blue eyes of Brother Conchobhar regarding him quizzically.
‘Amused?’ Eadulf repeated.
‘You were laughing to yourself.’
Eadulf grimaced.
‘At myself,’ he corrected with a sigh.
Brother Conchobhar smiled knowingly. ‘Yet you do not find yourself an object of humour. There was a bitter quality in your laughter.’
‘I shall not deny it.’
‘You worry about tomorrow. We have an old saying — marry a woman out of the glen and you marry the whole glen.’
Eadulf was astonished.
‘How did you know that I was thinking of that?’
Brother Conchobhar grimaced. ‘It is my nature to know these things. It is difficult for you, Brother Saxon, for you are a stranger in this land. But take comfort, for many who are not would find the path that you are taking difficult. Did you think it would be easy to marry an Eóghanacht of Cashel?’
‘I did not think of it. Certainly, I did not know what it meant.’
Brother Conchobhar inclined his head with a sad smile. ‘Yet you must have learnt something from your trial marriage.’
‘I suppose I did.’
‘Have you lost the feelings that you had for the lady Fidelma?’
‘Of course not!’
‘Have you lost the feelings that you had for Alchú, you son?’
Again, Eadulf’s reply was emphatic.
‘Then,’ smiled Brother Conchobhar, ‘your malady seems a simple one. You are simply fearful of the responsibility that you will take on.’
Eadulf raised his chin pugnaciously. ‘Fearful?’
‘Exactly so. Perhaps you are not ready to be the husband of an Eóghanacht?’
Eadulf snorted indignantly. ‘I have been so this last year.’
Brother Conchobhar pulled a wry face. ‘Then what else can it be?’ he mused. ‘Unless. .’
Eadulf’s brows came together. ‘Unless?’ he demanded irritably.
‘Unless. . it is merely the pomp and circumstance that you are fearful of? The gathering crowd and the nobles and officials who are assembling to see the sister of Colgú wed? Do not forget that her father was the great Fáilbe Flann mac Aedo, one of the greatest kings of Muman. Fáilbe was a man respected among all the kingdoms of this island. And you are fearful of the honour that the people do to the lady Fidelma?’
Eadulf flushed.
‘That is not the way of it,’ he snapped. ‘I am just a plain man and no noble.’
Brother Conchobhar grinned crookedly. ‘You are no common man.’
‘I am but a simple magistrate who decided to choose the way of the religious. .’
‘That is not what I meant. Whatever your birth, you are no common man. No common man would be the choice of the lady Fidelma. She has seen in you something uncommon, something complementary and necessary to her. So, my friend, is it not how she perceives you that is the most important thing? Not your fears of how others perceive you.’
Eadulf was silent as he pondered the old man’s words.
‘Do I judge the basis of your fears correctly, my Saxon friend?’ Brother Conchobhar prompted.
Eadulf stirred uncomfortably.
‘I think. .’ he began, but he was silenced by the blast of a trumpet outside the chapel.
‘That sounds like another distinguished guest arriving,’ sighed Brother Conchobhar, ‘and an important one for a trumpet to be sounded. Let us go and see who it is.’
Unprotesting, Eadulf followed the old man to the doors of the chapel and they halted on the steps overlooking the courtyard.
Two riders followed by a wagon had entered through the gates. To both Brother Conchobhar and Eadulf’s surprise, the wagon contained two religieuse with luggage, while seated on the riding box were two armed men in menial dress, not of the religious. One of them had a small trumpet on his lap and had clearly sounded the announcing blast. However, the two riders caused the observers an even bigger surprise.
The first rider was a tall, middle-aged man, fairly handsome in a dark and saturnine way, who carried himself with an arrogant manner. He was looking round with an expression of disdain. At his side, his companion was elderly and sharp-featured. What was astonishing was that they were clad in monastic robes. True, they were richly embellished, but nevertheless the men were clearly members of the religious.
Brother Conchobhar snorted in disgust.
‘Since when have the religious given themselves airs and graces?’ he muttered to Eadulf. ‘I know not these strangers.’
Caol, the commander of Colgú’s bodyguard, had come hurrying from the stables with Dego, one of his warriors, and halted before the newcomers. Eadulf noticed that Caol looked slightly bewildered and guessed that he had shared their expectation of the trumpet’s announcing the arrival of some noble or even a minor king. He was apparently nonplussed at being confronted by religious.
‘You are welcome to Cashel,’ he said warily. ‘Whom am I addressing?’
It was the elderly, sharp-featured man, who replied in a grand tone, ‘You are in the presence of the abbot of Cill Ria, Bishop Ultán of the Uí Thuirtrí, envoy from the
Caol continued to frown uncertainly. ‘Dego will see you to your chamber, Abbot Ultán, and then conduct your companions to the hostels set aside for them. The hostel for females is within the fortress but that for males is in the town below.’
The abbot did not move as Dego went forward but the elderly man at his side, glancing uneasily at his master, raised his tone querulously.
‘Does your king not come to the gate to welcome the envoy from the
Caol had begun to return to the stables but now turned with surprise.
‘My king does not even come to the gate to welcome the Comarb of the Blessed Ailbe who brought the Faith to our kingdom, let alone to welcome an abbot from the north who represents someone with a title that I do not recognise,’ he replied shortly.
Even from where he stood, Eadulf could see the saturnine abbot’s brows drawing together in anger. Beside Eadulf, Brother Conchobhar was stifling a chuckle.
