Dancing With Demons

we control the linen.’

‘Are you saying that you, Báine and Cnucha use this room more than anyone else?’

‘Just so.’

‘And it serves no other purpose than storing the bedlinen and old clothes?’

‘What other purpose could a storeroom serve?’

‘An interesting question,’ replied Fidelma dryly. ‘Tell me again, Brónach, where is your room?’

The woman scowled. ‘On the floor above this one.’

‘I see. I thought some of the maids slept on this level?’

‘They do. Down the corridor.’

‘And who are they?’

‘Báine and Cnucha, of course.’

‘They are both young,’ observed Fidelma as if the thought had just occurred to her.

‘Too young,’ confirmed the woman. ‘They have no conception of what it means to attend to the needs of a High King.’

‘Yet they have worked here for some time?’

‘If two or three years are long.’ Brónach sniffed deprecatingly. ‘I myself have been in service to this house for nine years. Apart from me, Báine has been here longest but she has ideas above her station. She claims to be the daughter of an ollamh, a learned man with an honour price of twenty seds. If this is so, why is she in service, and no more in rank than a saer- fuidhir — a servant? Her mind has been turned by-I mean, the lady Muirgel seems to have befriended her. That is not good. It gives food to her ideas of grandeur. She thinks that we, her fellows in service, are not good enough for her.’

‘And Cnucha?’ asked Fidelma.

‘She is a poor thing, scuttling about, hardly dares say boo to a goose. She will not rise to be a trusted servant. The girl has been here three years, but she still has to be chased and told what she should do.’

Fidelma glanced along the corridor. ‘And their rooms are at the end, along here?’

‘They are.’

Fidelma nodded thoughtfully and thanked the woman before moving off towards the hall with Eadulf following.

‘It doesn’t help us, does it?’ he asked softly.

‘What …?’ She seemed distracted for a moment. ‘Oh, you mean because anyone could have entered the storeroom and used the secret door if they knew how?’

‘Just so. But there is one thing I have learned.’

‘Which is?’

‘That if there was a conspiracy to kill Sechnussach, the conspiracy could not have been so close to him, because they would have surely known about the secret passage and stair to his chamber. That would have been a perfect route to kill him and none the wiser.’

Fidelma paused in mid-stride and regarded him thoughtfully for a moment.

‘Could it be that the passage is a secret that Sechnussach did not share with others?’

‘Surely such a thing could not be completely hidden from the household?’

‘Had Brónach known, I think she would have guessed why we were no longer on the floor above and commented on it,’ pointed out Fidelma. ‘Nevertheless, it is worth pursuing. Let’s go and find Brother Rogallach. If anyone knows about it, he would.’

They found Brother Rogallach in the library room checking an inventory. He looked up and smiled a greeting as they entered.

‘Do I know about the history of the building of Tech Cormaic?’ he replied to the question. ‘Well, I am in charge of running the household and there is nothing that I do not know about it. I was bollscari, the house steward, to Sechnussach’s father Blathmac and to his brother Diarmait when they were joint High Kings. I rode with them in the royal procession when they came to Tara over twelve years ago. It was an epoch in our history. They were just and kindly kings who, alas, fell victim to the dreadful Yellow Plague. Their deaths, for me, ended a golden age that is now sung of in ancient sagas.’

There was no doubt that Brother Rogallach was proud of his role.

‘But what of the house, rather than the household?’ pressed Eadulf.

Brother Rogallach shrugged as if dismissing the subject. ‘As its name suggests, the great King Cormac, the son of Art, first built it. A magnificent structure.’

‘You are know all the rooms?’

‘Of course.’

‘Are there any odd rooms?’

‘Odd rooms?’ He was puzzled.

‘Secret rooms, passages, stairways, anything of that sort?’ asked Fidelma.

Brother Rogallach chuckled. ‘What need of secret rooms and passages in the house of the noble High Kings, lady?’

‘So you’ve never encountered a secret passage?’

‘Never. And I would know,’ he added confidently.

‘Of course you would,‘smiled Fidelma. ‘Thank you for your time.’

Outside, Eadulf turned a doleful expression to Fidelma. ‘If Rogallach did not know … ’

A look of satisfaction on her face, Fidelma began to say: ‘I think I know how-’

‘Lady!’

They turned together as Irél, the commander of the Fianna, approached and greeted them enthusiastically.

‘I arrived back this morning. The prisoners we took from the raiders’ encampment will be here soon. The wounded are being attended to at Ceananas and at Delbna Mór. A most satisfactory conclusion to this attempted rebellion. I thought I would report back to Cenn Faelad.’

The commander of the Fianna seemed pleased with himself.

‘So peace has returned to Midhe?’ Eadulf said.

Irél answered affirmatively. Then: ‘I saw Ardgal, as I was entering Tara. He told me that you had caught up with Cuan, trying to escape to Alba. I look forward to my next meeting with him. He is the first deserter from the Fianna in many a year.’

Fidelma shook her head. ‘That meeting will have to be deferred until after I have presented certain facts to the Great Assembly,’ she said.

‘About Sechnussach’s death? So Cuan was involved?’

‘I can say that much, at least.’

‘Then I can wait,’ Irél assured her. ‘You have questioned him as you wanted?’

‘I have.’

Irél paused and then added: ‘There was a merchant from An Uaimh that I met on the way here. He gave me news about that foreigner, Verbas of Peqini.’

Fidelma was interested. ‘What about him?’

‘Apparently, he has sailed. The merchant consulted a local Brehon about his rights to get back his slave and the Brehon was so outraged to hear that Verbas felt he could own a child that he boxed his ears and told him the sooner he left our country, the better.’

Fidelma chuckled. ‘Excellent. So he has left these shores. Let us hope that he decides to stay away from them in the future.’

‘Oh, and Bishop Luachan and Brother Céin have arrived by wagon. His ankle is improving but, rather than wait, he felt his place should be here in Tara at this time.’ Irél raised a hand, half in salute, as he turned away to continue on his way.

‘What now?’ asked Eadulf.

‘Now I think that we can go to Cenn Faelad and Brehon Barrán. I havehad enough of Tara and its intrigues. It is time we returned to the peace of Cashel and to our little Alchú. At this rate, our poor child will not know us. We barely spend any time at all with him.’