Dancing With Demons

‘We regard Eadulf as one of our own,’ Brehon Barrán told her. ‘Your names are inseparably linked. Cenn Faelad and I will withdraw from any connection to this matter except as witnesses. Abbot Colmán will act as your adviser on matters connected with Tara.’

‘Very well,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘I presume that any witnesses have been detained in Tara?’ When Brehon Barrán nodded, she added: ‘We will want to examine the chamber where the murder took place.’

‘Whenever you are ready.’ Abbot Colman spoke for the first time since they had entered Cenn Faelad’s presence.

‘I would like to ask some questions of all of you first.’

The Chief Brehon frowned slightly. ‘Questions already? I thought this was just an informal discussion?’

‘I have no objection,’ Cenn Faelad said immediately. ‘The sooner a start is made, the sooner the matter is concluded. What question do you wish to ask, Fidelma?’

‘On the night of Sechnussach’s death, where were each of you?’ There was a brief silence.

Cenn Faelad decided to answer first.

‘I was not in Tara but staying near the Hill of Uisnech.’

Eadulf tried not to show his surprise. Uisnech, the sacred hill, again.

In this weather, Fidelma knew it to be two days’ easy riding from Tara, but a good horseman such as Cenn Faelad could make it in a single day on a fast horse. She glanced at him, feeling guilty for having such suspicious thoughts without good reason.

‘So when did you first hear of your brother’s death?’

‘It was when a messenger from Abbot Colmán arrived at Uisnech.’

Fidelma turned to the abbot. ‘So you were here at Tara that night?’

The abbot gave an affirmative gesture. ‘I was here in my chambers. A servant roused me, saying something had happened.’

‘What time was that?’

‘Before first light. It was light by the time I had dressed, hurried across to the royal enclosure and entered the High King’s chamber. Irél, the captain of the guard, had already taken charge. He it was who sent for me as steward.’

‘I assume, therefore, that you were not at Tara, Barrán?’ Fidelma said. ‘Otherwise, that duty would have fallen to you?’

The Chief Brehon smiled faintly. ‘You are correct in your assumption. I was on my way to Emain Macha.’

‘May I ask what business took you to the capital of the King of Ulaidh?’

‘It has no relevance to this matter but it is no secret. I was to advise on a case involving a territorial dispute between the Dál Riada and Emain Macha. However, I did not reach Emain Macha as a messenger overtook me on the road and told me to hasten back to Tara. It was then that I heard that Sechnussach had been slain.’

Fidelma turned back to Abbot Colmán. ‘So in the absence of the heir apparent and the Chief Brehon, you took responsibility at Tara, Abbot Colmán?’

‘I did. As you know, I stand not only as spiritual adviser to the Great Assembly but also hold office as High King’s rechtaire, his steward.’

‘And, in taking charge, what did you do?’

‘The High King’s physician was sent for but that was merely a matter of procedure because we could see that he was dead. After all, his neck had been cut open so that the blood must have spurted like a great fountain.’ He looked apologetically at Cenn Faelad, whose face was strained. ‘I ordered a search of the adjoining rooms to ensure that the assassin acted alone, and then confirmed the identity of the assassin who had killed himself as soon as he had killed the King.’

‘You confirmed his identity?’ pressed Fidelma. ‘So you knew him?’

‘I had been told who it was by Irél. Irél had already recognised him. Dubh Duin was a member of the Great Assembly, and known in Tara. I had also seen him at the Assembly several times.’

‘And then?’

‘I ordered Irél to despatch messengers to alert Cenn Faelad and Brehon Barrán … ’

‘No one has mentioned the High King’s wife and his daughters,’ Eadulf pointed out. ‘Were they not present?’

The abbot seemed suddenly defensive. ‘They were not and I felt that it was more important to contact the heir apparent and Chief Brehon first.’

‘Very well. What then?’

‘Then I called a scribe to come and make such notes as I thought necessary to be placed in the tech screpta, the library. I asked the guards to give their statements … ’

‘Indeed. I will examine them later. It is more important to question a witness in person. The matter of the guards interests me. Was the High King’s chamber not guarded that night?’ asked Fidelma.

‘The assassin eluded the two guards, Lugna and Cuan. They had been in the kitchen investigating a suspicious noise. Alerted by screams issuing from the King’s chamber, they ran up the stairs and burst in just as the assassin turned his knife on himself.’

‘Alerted by screams?’ frowned Fidelma. ‘What — from the High King?’

Abbot Colmán looked puzzled at the question. ‘Who else would scream in these circumstances?’

‘And were the guards able to explain how the assassin had managed to enter the royal enclosure, even gaining entrance to the High King’s house and bedchamber while it was still dark? Was the building not locked from the inside?’

Abbot Colmán looked uncomfortable. ‘In the centre of Tara, in the royalenclosure, it has always been thought unnecessary to bolt the doors, for two guards are always standing without.’

‘And the door to the High King’s bedchamber, was that not locked?’

This time, Abbot Colmán reached into his leather purse and drew forth a bronze key. He held it out to her.

‘We think it was, but the assassin carried a key.’

She took it and held it up. It was a well-crafted key and had a pattern on it.

‘Where was this found?’

‘In the assassin’s sparrán.’

‘Before you go further, Fidelma,’ Cenn Faelad said softly, looking embarrassed, ‘I know the key to be mine. It bears the same marks that are on my key.’

Fidelma looked curiously at him. ‘You keep a key to the High King’s bedchamber? When did you find your key was missing?’

‘As heir apparent, I have a duplicate set of keys to all the royal apartments. But as for your second question,’ he held out his hands helplessly. ‘I didn’t. I mean, it isn’t.’

‘I do not understand,’ she replied impatiently.

Cenn Faelad drew forth another key and handed it to her. She took it and examined it. Then she held out both keys side by side and looked at them carefully. Now she understood.

‘They have been cast from the same mould but also filed with exactly the same markings. That is unusual, but the explanation is simple. The intruder’s key must have been copied from your key.’

Cenn Faelad nodded quickly. ‘I agree. A locksmith has made both keys to bear the same personal markings. The keys of important buildings are given different markings so that their holders can be identified. In this case, the locksmith has ensured that both keys bear marks that identify them as mine.’

‘How long have you had your key, Cenn Faelad?’

‘Since I was elected tánaiste — that is, five years ago, and it has been in my possession ever since. But, look, that mark at the end of the key … ’

‘Like a deep score in the bronze?’

‘That was made only three weeks ago. Yet the other key also has it.’

Fidelma compressed her lips thoughtfully. ‘How was it done?’ she asked. ‘The mark, I mean.’

‘I had been carrying out an inspection of all the locks with the bollscari, the head of the household staff, as he felt that some of them neededreplacing. We tested the keys of the royal house. At the