Dancing With Demons

immediately.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Eadulf had left the guesthouse and was walking towards the stable buildings when no less a person than Cenn Faelad emerged from them. The commander of his guard, Irél, was at his side and another warrior walked two paces behind, eyes watchful and hand on his sword. Cenn Faelad beckoned in friendly fashion to Eadulf to join him.

‘How are things going with your investigations?’ Cenn Faelad asked. It was the greeting of an equal, with no differentiation of rank or of nationality, and Eadulf felt slightly flattered, although he had heard that Cenn Faelad, in his role as tánaiste, the heir apparent, had earned popularity by being accessible to all his people.

‘We are making some progress,’ Eadulf replied. ‘Fidelma is even now conducting an interview with-’

‘With my brother’s widow,’ intervened Cenn Faelad with a grim smile. ‘I saw the lady Fidelma going into her residence a moment ago. She is very thorough, that wife of yours.’

Eadulf smiled with pride. ‘There is little that escapes her attention in these matters.’

‘But I see that you do not attend all her interrogations?’

‘In this instance it was thought more circumspect for me to stay away. Diplomacy … ’

‘We do not stand on ceremony here, Eadulf,’ Cenn Faelad said immediately. ‘Or should not. You have been in our country long enough to know that. After all, there is a saying here that we are all kings’ sons.’

‘Alas, Cenn Faelad, not all of us can prove it,’ replied Eadulf wryly.

The High King elect’s features broadened and he burst out laughing.

‘That was well and truly said, my friend. Well done! You show a ready wit. But it is true, in our system we say that a people is strongerthan a lord, for they have the final vote at the clan assemblies.’

Irél coughed pointedly at his side.

‘My commander reminds me not to delay,’ Cenn Faelad said. ‘We are on our way to the marketplace below,’ he motioned down the hill outside the walls of Tara. ‘A foreign merchant ship has arrived and we wish to see what goods it brings. It is one of the privileges of my rank that I can see his goods first before he opens his stall in the market. Thus I can make first choice of anything new and interesting.’

Eadulf asked slyly: ‘And does that fit in with your people being stronger than a lord?’

Again Cenn Faelad laughed.

‘I can see that you have the same quality of humour as Fidelma,’ he beamed. ‘But I will answer — I said it was a privilege, not a right. Anyway, perhaps you’ll walk with us and see? It will not take long and I doubt whether Fidelma will be brief in talking with my sister-in-law.’

Again, Eadulf stifled a feeling of being flattered.

‘I would be delighted. Is it known where this merchant ship comes from?’

‘It’s from Gaul, I think. From the port of An Naoned.’

They fell in step and began to move towards the gates of the palace complex.

‘Merchant ships from Gaul are large,’ observed Eadulf. ‘Do they anchor at some coastal port and bring their goods on overland or by smaller vessels?’

‘Some ships can negotiate along the main river, which we call the Bóinn. There is an island in the river just north of here, beyond which it is dangerous to proceed. But a good local river man can pilot a fairly big vessel to the island there and that is where goods are offloaded at a place we call An Uaimh and then brought here overland. We have a good trade with Britain and Gaul.’

Eadulf noticed that Irél had now moved ahead and that both he and the guard behind were looking round cautiously.

Cenn Faelad observed his interest. ‘I am told,’ he said in a low voice, ‘that it is wise for me to be closely guarded until we know the reason for the slaughter of my brother.’

‘I presume that you have some theories?’ Eadulf replied.

The young High King elect gave him a searching glance. Then he said quietly, ‘I suppose that we all speculate.’

‘As Sechnussach was your brother, your speculation would be interesting.’

‘My brother was High King. In that office one is never universally loved. What is justice for one can be construed as injustice for another. Dubh Duin was a man of fixed ideas and he was known for these ideas in the Great Assembly. They were ideas that were not shared by my brother. But that should be no motive for assassination. The place to really change matters is in the assembly, not with the High King — for you can change a High King but the decision of the assembly can only be changed because it is the will of the majority of its members. As I said before, it is the assembly who constrains the High King.’

Eadulf nodded slowly. ‘So you dismiss the motivation of a disagreement of ideas?’

‘Not as such. Dubh Duin might have been consumed by madness. Killing is the ultimate madness, whether done in hot or cold blood.’

They had walked out of the gates and through respectful groups of people, beyond the dwellings that arose around the walls of Tara. Eadulf was aware of great crowds of people, horses, carts, tents pitched wherever there was space. Of course, Tara was the principal city of the five kingdoms of Éireann, its biggest centre, to which all manner of people would be attracted. Having dwelled in Cashel, which was less turbulent, and become used to quieter ways, he had forgotten the hustle and bustle of great towns.

Irél led the way through the maze of people who crowded around the tents and more permanent buildings into a great railed-off enclosure.

‘This is where the foreign merchants are allowed to ply their trade,’ Cenn Faelad explained.

Several stalls had been set up and Eadulf saw all manner of people. There were men in bright colours and styles of dress that he associated with the peoples of southern Gaul or Rome. He could see a few merchants who were unmistakably from the Saxon lands. Then he could hear the rolling accents of the Britons who had for centuries had a constant interchange with their neighbours in Éireann.

‘Where is the new merchant, Irél?’ asked Cenn Faelad.

‘Over here.’ The bodyguard pointed to one corner, where a large tent had been erected.

A tall man was standing at the entrance, clad in fairly rich clothes. He was swarthy but cleanshaven. At his side was a boy about fourteen yearsold. The boy had a metal collar around his neck, fastened at one side with a padlock.

Irél halted before the man and addressed him. ‘Identify yourself, merchant. You are in the presence of the High King elect, lord of all the five kingdoms of this land.’

To Eadulf’s surprise, it was the boy who began to address the tall man in a tongue that he could not identify. It was he who was obviously the merchant’s translator.

The man smiled thinly, raised a hand to his forehead in salutation and bowed low. He uttered a few words.

‘I am Verbas of Peqini, Majesty,’ interpreted the boy in a hesitant but obvious accent of Éireann.

Cenn Faelad looked at the lad with a frown. ‘And who are you?’

The boy grimaced. ‘I am the property of my lord Verbas.’

Eadulf knew that slavery was uncommon among the people of Éireann but his own people had always practised slavery like the Romans. However, Cenn Faelad was disapproving.

‘I was told that you were a merchant from Gaul,’ he said through the boy.

Verbas of Peqini smiled. It was the insincere smile of a merchant.

‘My ship has sailed here from the port of An Naoned in Armorica, Majesty, but I am from a land far to the east, plying my trade throughout the great lands of the world.’

‘And this boy is your interpreter?’

‘He is my voice, Majesty, in these far western lands.’

‘Know then, Verbas of Peqini, that in this land we do not accept that one man may hold another in bondage.’ When the boy seemed scared to translate this, Cenn Faelad sharply ordered him to do so. ‘Only if such a person