made?’
‘I do not want a key made myself, but within the last few weeks someone from the royal enclosure did — and probably they did not want anyone to know.’
The smith looked surprised and then he frowned in recollection. After a moment’s thought he asked: ‘Would the man have been a member of the Fianna?’
A thrill of excitement went through Eadulf. ‘You know of such a person?’
‘A matter of fact, not so many weeks ago, a warrior from the Fianna did ask me to copy a key for him. He said it was a key to a lady’s chamber — a lady who was jealously guarded by a husband …’ He smiled and winked. ‘You know how these things go, my friend, for you look like a man of the world.’
‘Tell me, did the key have a nick on it, as if it had been struck by something sharp — and did the warrior ask you to copy even that mark?’
The smith suddenly looked apprehensive. ‘You are not the husband, surely? I have done nothing wrong … ’
‘You have done nothing wrong,’ Eadulf immediately reassured the man, ‘and if you give me a description of the warrior, there is a
The smith scratched his head for a moment and said: ‘He had dark hair, bony features and close-set eyes. Oh, and he had a scar over the right eye. I gave him the key and the copy of it and he paid and went away happy enough.’
Eadulf smiled broadly and handed the man the coin. He returned to the royal enclosure with a light step.
Fidelma had met Gormflaith only once before and that was less than a year ago when the latter had accompanied her husband Sechnussach, the High King, to the festivities of Fidelma’s own wedding at Cashel. She was a handsome woman and no more than thirty-two or three. She must have married young, only a year or so after the age of choice, Fidelmathought, for her daughter, Muirgel, being sixteen, must have been born soon after. Gormflaith bore a striking resemblance to her daughter so that they could have been sisters. She had black hair, dark eyes and a pale skin, and the same arrogance about her features. She carried herself with that regal bearing that suited the meaning of her name — ‘illustrious sovereignty’. At the same time, she wore an air of extreme melancholia. It was as if tears were glistening on her eyes which, Fidelma reasoned, was to be expected of someone whose husband or lover had met their death.
Unlike her daughter, Gormflaith rose and welcomed Fidelma as an equal, recognising her position as sister of the King of Muman, and acknowledging her with courtesy. She ordered refreshing drinks to be brought and bade her be seated.
‘It is a sad business that brings you hither, Fidelma.’
‘Sad indeed, lady. I presume that you know why I am here?’
‘Cenn Faelad …’ She paused. ‘Cenn Faelad has told me that the Great Assembly had sent for you. A logical decision and one with which I agree. While I have great respect and friendship for Barrán, it is best if the people see that someone outside of the Uí Néill has investigated this matter. Have you made progress?’
‘We can say that we are making steady progress,’ replied Fidelma in a neutral way.
‘That is good. How may I help you?’
Fidelma leaned forward confidentially. ‘I hope you will bear with me, lady, when I ask you under which law you were married to Sechnussach?’
Gormflaith stared in surprise for a moment.
‘Which law? Why, our marriage was under the
There were three main types of marriage in the five kingdoms: a marriage of equals, those of equal social and financial position; then there was the marriage where the man was of higher social and financial position, and the marriage where the woman was of higher social and financial position. Each type of marriage had particular rights and responsibilities.
Fidelma smiled gently. ‘So you stood in equal position before the law?’
‘I married Sechnussach before he was High King and when he was merely a noble of the Sil nÁedo of Brega. His being High King did not change our status under law.’
‘Exactly so, lady,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘And, forgive me not knowing, what was your lineage?’
Gormflaith smiled thinly. ‘I am a
‘Clan Cholmáin, who dwell around the sacred Hill of Uisnech and by the shores of Loch Ainninne?’
‘For someone from Muman, you are well-informed of the geography of Midhe, lady.’
‘For eight years I studied at the college of Brehon Morann of Tara, not more than a short walk away from where we now sit,’ pointed out Fidelma.
Gormflaith raised an eyebrow slightly. ‘Ah, is it so? I must have forgotten, if I was ever told.’
‘No matter. So, you and Sechnussach stood on equal terms?’
‘Even as I have said.’
‘I am told that you and he were estranged?’ The question came quickly and without preamble.
Gormflaith coloured a little and blinked, but that was all the emotion she showed.
‘It seems that your enquiries are indeed making progress.’
‘Do you confirm it?’ Fidelma asked.
‘Does it need confirmation?’
‘It needs explanation.’
‘Then it is easy to explain. Soon after Bé Bhail was born, perhaps there was a change in me or perhaps there was a change in Sechnussach. I cannot apportion blame as to who changed first. All I know is that we began to grow apart. He became arrogant towards me. Once he told me that he preferred a woman who made no demands on him and came and went like a maid when bidden to his bed. Our arguments grew strident and he struck me on three occasions. I demanded my own apartments and we no longer were man and wife. For the sake of the five kingdoms, we appeared together at feasting and other occasions when it was required.’
‘Do I understand,’ Fidelma asked softly, ‘that there was no relationship between you other than your duty as wife of the High King?’
Gormflaith bowed her head. ‘None.’
‘And what was your relationship to Dubh Duin?’
The question was asked in the same soft voice so that for a moment it seemed that it had not registered with Gormflaith. Then her head came up sharply.
‘What did you say?’ she almost whispered.
‘Dubh Duin,’ repeated Fidelma. ‘Your husband’s assassin. What was the nature of your relationship with him?’
Several expressions crossed Gormflaith’s features as she tried to form an answer.
‘Perhaps,’ Fidelma continued in her soft tone, ‘it would save time if I tell you that we have questioned the guard who let him into the royal enclosure several times after midnight. He did so on the authority of your daughter, Muirgel. We have already spoken to her.’
Gormflaith’s shoulders slumped noticeably. ‘Then you must know that he was my lover,’ she said simply.
Fidelma was nodding gently. ‘You realise that there are implications to what you say, lady?’
‘Implications?’ Gormflaith was puzzled.
‘It provides a motive as to why Dubh Duin killed your husband, and furthermore, it also casts suspicion on you as having some role in a conspiracy to kill him.’
Gormflaith stared at her for a moment and then, to Fidelma’s surprise, she gave a wistful smile.
‘I regret that Sechnussach’s murder is not so easily solved, lady,’ she replied.
‘How so?’
‘I believe you are suggesting that Dubh Duin killed my husband to release me from wedlock, so that he and I
