resonance of his voice — a deep baritone.’
When Lugna’s comrade, Cuan, was called in to answer her questions, he said he could add no more to the story than Lugna had told them. He was a taciturn young man with dark hair, bony features and close-set eyes, and had a slight scar over his right eye.
‘I gather that you were the one who heard the noise from the kitchen which caused you and Lugna to leave the door unguarded during the vital time when the assassin must have passed inside the High King’s house?’
Cuan stirred uncomfortably. ‘I heard something,’ he replied. ‘I told Lugna and he said we should investigate.’
‘And he was your superior that night?’ mused Fidelma.
‘He is a commander of a troop of fifty. I am a mere warrior.’
Fidelma regarded his stubborn features for a while. Then she sighed. She knew that she was not being told the truth, but it was obvious that she could not push against an immovable force without some means of leverage. It was best to leave it for the moment. Of the two, perhaps Lugna would be the better person to apply pressure to, and find out why they had deserted their post at that crucial time.
After Abbot Colmán had escorted Cuan to the door of the library, sheleaned towards Eadulf and said quietly: ‘Already I feel there is far more here than simply an assassin who strikes and then kills himself. As we remarked before, this man seems to have had extraordinary luck. He is let into the royal enclosure by a guard, contrary to orders that only people with permission of the High King can be admitted after nightfall. Then he enters the High King’s residence because the two men who are supposed to be guarding it have chosen that very moment to go out to the kitchen to investigate a noise. He can also enter the High King’s chamber because he has a duplicate key which has been recently cut from the heir apparent’s own key. Indeed, that is not luck, Eadulf. I think there is collusion somewhere.’
‘Do you think the noise was deliberately made to lure the guards to the kitchen?’ Eadulf asked.
‘No. I think they are lying,’ Fidelma replied bluntly. ‘They claim to have heard this noise while at the front of the royal house. That is possible — yet it aroused no one else. No one in the rooms at the back heard anything. If it was some confederate of the assassin seeking to lure the guards away so that he could enter unopposed, it was not a good plan. The sound might have woken lots of other people.’
Eadulf reflected silently. ‘When do you plan to challenge Lugna and Cuan then?’
‘I need something to break through their story and get at the truth. I think they have agreed on this lie and I shall need more information in order to challenge them. Meanwhile, we will continue our investigations with the other witnesses.’
Abbot Colmán had returned. ‘Whom shall I call in now?’ he asked.
‘I think we should see the other guard, the one that was at the main gate. Erc, I think his name is?’
The abbot nodded. ‘He is being held in the cells. Shall I send for him to be brought here?’
Fidelma rose abruptly. ‘We will go and see him where he is held. Perhaps his surroundings will help him concentrate on my questions.’
Erc the Speckled rose from his wooden bench in the dungeon in which he had been incarcerated and stood with a woebegone expression as Fidelma and Eadulf entered with Abbot Colmán. He gave the appearance of a man resigned to fate — and that fate was like an irresistible force that was going to destroy him.
Abbot Colmán announced Fidelma and her status with a solemn tone.
‘Well, Erc the Speckled,’ Fidelma gave the man a smile of encouragement as she seated herself on a stool, ‘you appear to be in a sorry situation.’
The warrior sighed deeply. ‘I am at fault, lady,’ he said tonelessly. ‘I have no excuse.’
Fidelma pointed to the wooden bench and instructed the man to be seated.
Erc sat down nervously.
‘I am told that the facts are simple,’ Fidelma began. ‘On the night that Sechnussach was murdered, you were on guard at the main gates of the royal enclosure. Is that so?’
Erc nodded.
‘Tell me about the events as you know them to be.’
‘I have no defence, lady,’ he repeated. ‘I let the man who murdered the High King into the royal enclosure at a time when entry should have been forbidden.’
‘That is not what I asked you,’ replied Fidelma firmly.
‘I do not understand, lady,’ Erc said with a frown of bewilderment.
‘At what time did you go on guard that night?’ she prompted.
‘About midnight,’ the warrior replied slowly, realising what she wanted. ‘The watches are changed then and I was to take the watch from midnight until after dawn. The main gates are closed and bolted at that time and my task was to stand as sentinel by the gates. On no account are the gates to be opened — but for special people, there is a door set within the gate which can give one person access at a time.’
‘I understand. Now tell me, did anyone else come or go through the gate while you were on watch? I mean, before the arrival of the assassin?’
Erc shook his head. ‘No, lady.’
‘So — only the assassin came to the main gate?’
‘Yes. He arrived a short while before dawn. It was still dark but there was a hint of light on the eastern hills.’
‘What then?’
‘I challenged him, of course. Then he walked into the light of the torches so that I could see his features.’
‘You knew him?’
Erc nodded. ‘That is why I let him in. He was Dubh Duin of the Cinél Cairpre.’
Fidelma frowned slightly. ‘You let him into the royal enclosure simplybecause he was a chieftain that you knew? If I remember my protocol correctly, no one, not even a distant relation of a king, is allowed into a royal enclosure after the gates are shut and barred at night.’ She turned to Abbot Colmán. ‘This is a sorry state of affairs, that an assassin can come to the great complex of Tara, be admitted through gates that are usually bolted all through the hours of darkness. That he can then walk to the house of the High King himself, go through an unlocked door that has been left unguarded, make his way to the High King’s bedchamber, enter with a key provided and kill him.’
Abbot Colmán shrugged uncomfortably. ‘I admit that we must learn some lessons here. We must speak with Irél who is the
Erc’s features were even more woebegone than ever. ‘That’s not true,’ he said suddenly. ‘During the previous two weeks, Dubh Duin had been admitted several times into the royal enclosure after midnight.’
Fidelma glanced swiftly at Abbot Colmán, but he seemed as surprised as she was.
‘And who authorised his admittance?’ she asked sharply.
‘It was the lady Muirgel.’
‘Muirgel? You mean the High King’s eldest daughter?’
‘The same, lady. She had the authority to pass him through the guards. How could I question the orders of the daughter of Sechnussach?’
Fidelma regarded the man thoughtfully for a moment. ‘Let me get this correct in my mind,’ she said. ‘Are you saying that the lady Muirgel, daughter of Sechnussach, gave you orders to pass Dubh Duin into the royal enclosure after midnight, and on more than one occasion during the last two weeks?’
Erc nodded eagerly. ‘Exactly so. And the last time, she said that if I was ever on watch and she was not there to greet Dubh Duin, he should be allowed to pass unhindered at her word. That is why I did not question him on that night.’
‘Did you tell anyone this in your defence?’ demanded Fidelma.
‘No one asked me before I was brought here.’
Abbot Colmán added quickly: ‘He has not really been questioned on the matter before. He was only asked if he allowed Dubh Duin through the gates and when he admitted that he had, he was brought here to await examination by a Brehon.’
