Dancing With Demons

the hallway of the Tech Cormaic, where she found Eadulf waiting for her.

‘There is no one at the hall of the Great Assembly at this time,’ he explained, ‘but I do have some information that might be useful. I had a word with Irél about Dubh Duin and an argument he had in the assembly.’

‘An argument with Sechnussach over religion?’ Fidelma said.

Eadulf’s face fell. ‘You already know about it?’

She reached forward and took his arm in companionable fashion. ‘In truth, I have only just heard that it took place. I have no details. Come, let us go into the fresh air and then tell me all you know.’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

When Eadulf had related his conversation with Irél, the commander of the Fianna, Fidelma merely commented: ‘It is background information that helps to paint a picture of our assassin, but not much else. There is still much to discover.’

‘What did Brehon Barrán have to say to you? Did Gormflaith tell the truth?’

‘I am afraid that both Gormflaith and Barrán tell stories that are impossible to reconcile. Barrán said that so far as he knew, no divorce was arranged and he was never asked to draw up a settlement to be agreed by them.’

She was about to speak further when the dowdy young woman who had been serving in the guesthouse, Cnucha, came hurrying by. Fidelma called to her and the girl, seeing who it was, came over immediately, her hands demurely folded before her.

‘May I help, lady?’ she asked, eyes downcast.

‘I am looking for Brother Rogallach. Would you know where he is?’

The girl indicated towards the back of the Tech Cormaic.

‘At this hour you will find him in the kitchen, lady. The door at the back is open, so you may go through the house to the kitchen.’

Fidelma was about to thank the girl when the figure of Brónach appeared on the steps of the royal residence and glowered angrily at them.

‘Cnucha! What are you loitering there for? I sent you to help Báine in the guesthouse. Be off with you!’ The woman turned on her heel and went inside.

Cnucha, in an uncharacteristic show of temper, suddenly stuck out a tongue in her direction and then, realising that the others had seen her, she blushed and lowered her head.

‘I am sorry, lady. Sometimes it is difficult to put up with all the insults that have to be endured when people think you have no feelings and no ability to fight back. I am sure Brónach is usually a good person. Recently, however, she has become increasingly irritable. I think it is because her lover may have left her.’

Fidelma was disapproving. ‘It is not seemly to speak of such things, Cnucha.’

The girl tried to appear contrite. ‘It just slipped out, lady. Brónach is a nice woman, very attractive, and it was sad when her husband was killed. I am surprised that she did not take another husband. Someone like her could have many suitors. I am sure she had a lover until a few weeks ago — not that she ever told us or that we knew — but she has been so miserable and snappy of late, and-’

The girl caught sight of Fidelma’s frown and stopped dead. ‘Sorry, it’s just … sorry.’ She moved off quickly on her errand.

Eadulf was smiling at Fidelma’s expression. ‘Well, if there was gossip or rumour to be had, which might help us, we know where to come to,’ he joked.

Fidelma pulled a face at him, indicating mock offence. ‘It is not gossip we look for, Eadulf, but evidence.’

Eadulf raised his eyes towards the sky for a moment and said piously: ‘Much truth in gossip, as your old saying goes.’

‘Vir sapit qui pauca loquitor,’ she quoted back. ‘That person is wise who talks little.’ Then she thought of something. ‘Or maybe it should be the reverse … ’She began to walk towards the kitchen of the royal house with Eadulf, puzzled, trailing in her wake.

It was the custom of the large wooden houses in the five kingdoms to have the ircha, or kitchen, constructed as a separate building at the back. This was because of the heat of the cooking fires and the dangers of sparks of heated oil causing a conflagration. There were still instances of such domestic fires destroying buildings and even entire families.

As they entered the big room, with its stifling heat emanating from two ovens, its pungent odours of herbs and heating foods, they found two people busy preparing the dishes. Fidelma could not see Brother Rogallach although one of the men, who was cutting joints of pork on a thick wooden table, looked up and, laying aside his large-bladed knife, took a step towards them.

‘Can I help you?’ he asked deferentially. ‘I am Torpach the cook.’

Fidelma explained who she was looking for.

‘Ah, Brother Rogallach is in the seallad. He is doing an inventory of the goods there. You’ll find him beyond that door.’

Eadulf recognised seallad as the word for a pantry where provisions were stored and was about to move off but Torpach halted them. ‘Excuse me, lady, but you are the dálaigh come to investigate Sechnussach’s death, aren’t you?’

‘I am,’ she affirmed.

‘He was a good man,’ sighed Torpach. ‘A good cook, too. He was often down in this kitchen, trying out recipes. He was down here even at dawn on the day before his death. I got here early that day to prepare some dishes and surprised him. He told me he couldn’t sleep, poor man, and so came to get his own breakfast ready. Another lord would have roused his servants to do such a task. That was the last time I saw him. Why Dubh Duin wanted to kill him, I do not know.’

Fidelma smiled reassuringly at the cook’s expression of woe.

‘That is what I must discover, Torpach. Thank you for your concern. I hope to have the answers before long.’

The seallad was a separate building from the kitchen, a place without fire so that the heat of cooking would not ruin the foodstuffs that were stored there. Fidelma led the way out into what was a large yard. In one corner of the yard was a medium-sized kiln, an aith, which was used for the drying of corn or other grains to make bread. The large wooden storehouse opposite to it had no windows, although its one door was slightly ajar. This was clearly the seallad or the pantry.

‘Brother Rogallach?’ called Fidelma as they approached. There was no answer.

With a shrug, she moved to the door and pushed it open. The interior of the pantry was in darkness. Eadulf stood at her shoulder.

‘Brother Rogallach?’ She raised her voice a little. ‘Are you in there?’

They both heard it. As if in answer there came a soft moaning sound.

Fidelma stepped inside, trying to adjust her eyes to the gloom and clicked her tongue in frustration that she could not make out anything. It was Eadulf who noticed the extinguished candle on the ground almost at their feet. He had nearly trodden on it as he moved forward. He now bent down and picked it up.

‘Can you light it?’ asked Fidelma.

‘Stay there, don’t go inside,’ Eadulf instructed firmly and hurried backto the kitchen where, without a word to the surprised cook and his assistant, he ignited the candle from one of the cooking fires. It was easier than spending time with flint and tinder trying to produce a flame. One hand cupped over the flickering flame of the tallow candle, he went as fast as he could back to the seallad where Fidelma was waiting impatiently on the threshold.

‘Let me go first,’ Eadulf insisted, and so she stood aside to let him pass within.

The single room of the pantry building was stacked with barrels and sacks in the centre, while all around the walls was wooden shelving on which were placed various items of foodstuffs. Eadulf stood looking round, seeing