Dancing With Demons

‘But some reason must be suspected?’

The young man glanced at Colgú as if asking him to respond.

‘This messenger has come here from the High King’s tánaiste, his heir apparent …’ Colgú paused and shrugged. ‘The next High King, Cenn Faelad.’

‘Sechnussach’s brother? I have met him.’

‘Cenn Faelad sends his messenger with a request: that you make the journey to Tara and undertake the enquiry into the causes of the murder of the High King.’

Fidelma looked astonished. ‘But what of the Chief Brehon, Barrán? Surely it is he who should conduct this enquiry?’

‘That is impossible, sister. You see, Barrán is of the Uí Néill, too. He is cousin of Sechnussach and Cenn Faelad. Apparently the Great Assembly, or those of it who were present in Tara, felt that someone from outside the Uí Néill should undertake this investigation, someone who is not seen as partisan to one branch of the Uí Néill or another. As both victim and assassin were members of different branches of the Uí Néill it is feared that, at best, a blood feud could arise or, at worst, a war that would have devastating effects on the unity of the five kingdoms. The investigation should be seen to be without bias.’

Fidelma thought for a moment. ‘And what if such an investigation found that it was an internal Uí Néill quarrel?’

Colgú shrugged eloquently. ‘The truth is the truth, Fidelma, and truth is often a bitter fruit.’

‘There is another aspect that you might have forgotten, brother,’ Fidelma said. ‘The motivation of the Eóghanacht for their intervention in this matter might also be questioned.’

Colgú looked perplexed, then replied, ‘The motivation is that you have been requested to investigate by the Great Assembly. Neither I, nor my tánaiste, Finguine, who have a right to sit in the Great Assembly, were privy to this decision. So what other motivation could be ascribed to the Eóghanacht?’

‘If there is strife between the septs of the Uí Néill, then the Eóghanacht might be suspected of taking advantage of the situation to reassert the old tradition of also providing High Kings.’

‘One needs a long memory to go back to the old days when the Uí Néill and the Eóghanacht contended with each other to elect one of their number to the role of High King!’ Colgú scoffed. ‘Why, according to our chroniclers, it is five centuries ago when the last Eóghanacht was High King.’

Fidelma smiled gently. ‘You see, brother? Even you can put a dateto it when our ancestor Duach Donn was High King. People do not forget.’

But Colgú was adamant. ‘No one could seriously bring forward the accusation that I, or any Eóghanacht, want to claim the High Kingship. The Uí Néill have maintained the office for too many centuries now. We are content with our own kingdom of Muman.’ He looked his sister in the face. ‘Are you saying that you do not want this mission?’

Fidelma grimaced. ‘I am saying that I will undertake it for the sake of the memory of Sechnussach. The truth about his assassination deserves to be known. Out of respect and my duty to the next High King, Cenn Faelad and the Great Assembly, I will go to Tara even though it grieves me to desert my son after returning here a short time. But it is fair to be aware of any pitfalls that lie ahead.’

Colgú seemed to relax and he smiled at his sister.

‘We are not always in control of our destinies, Fidelma. I will ensure the boy is well looked after. I presume that you will take Eadulf?’

She nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘Can I suggest that you also take Caol? It will take you several days to ride north to Tara and you do not know what dangers may be in wait. If a High King can be assassinated …’ He left the sentence unfinished.

‘I will be happy to accompany the lady Fidelma and her husband,’ Caol suddenly broke in. He had stood in silence during the whole of the exchange and now felt he should say something, since he had been referred to. ‘I would suggest one other warrior of the guard accompany me.’

‘Who did you have in mind?’ queried Colgú.

‘All my warriors are fine men but perhaps it would be best to take Gormán. He has accompanied the lady Fidelma before. He is not only adept with his weapons but has a good mind and is able to act on his own initiative.’

‘An excellent choice, Caol. Do you agree, Fidelma?’

She inclined her head. ‘I am happy with the choice. It is too late to begin the journey today, so I suggest we leave at first light tomorrow. If we make a steady pace and do not overtax the horses, we can be in Tara within five days. I will go and tell Eadulf.’ She turned towards the door.

‘Much hangs in the balance of this investigation, Fidelma,’ Colgú called after her. ‘Perhaps the peace of the five kingdoms itself …’

CHAPTER THREE

Fidelma was correct in that her party, consisting of four riders, reached the gates of the palace of the High King at Tara in the afternoon of the fifth day after leaving Cashel. The five kingdoms of Éireann were well provided with roads. There were six different types of road and each of them classified by a different name. They ranged from a small track called lámrota to the great highways called slíge. There were only five slíge. These were the main arteries of the five kingdoms, which all converged at Tara. The highway that ran from the kingdom of Muman to Tara was called the Slíge Dalla or the Way of the Blind. It carried its unusual name because it was said that it was such a good and well-kept highway that a blind person would have no problem traversing it. It spanned rivers with bridges of wood and stone called droichet and crossed marshes and bogs on causeways called tóchar. A slíge was constructed so that two large wagons had plenty of space to pass one another without having to slow down.

The laws on the repair and maintenance of the roads were strictly enforced. It was the responsibility of the local chieftain, in whose territory each section of the road lay, to maintain it. This was part of his duties to the provincial King, and part of the provincial King’s duty to the High King. The chieftain had to ensure the road was in good condition, clear of brushwood and weeds and drained of water. The laws stipulated that there were three times when the roads had to be inspected: at the beginning of every winter; at the time of horse racing when some roads were turned into racing tracks; and, of course, during time of war when the roads became the arteries along which bands of warriors had to pass. If any person caused damage to a road, they had to pay compensation to the chieftain in whose territory the road ran.

Fidelma and Eadulf, with Caol and Gormán, had set out along the SlígeDalla just after first light on the day after they had heard the news of the High King’s death at Tara. Fidelma was aware that this was the beginning of winter with the daylight period at its shortest so that they were restricted to travelling only during those hours. She made a mental calculation of the length of time it would take them to reach their destination. Fidelma was as much at home on horseback as on foot but decided on an easy pace, not merely because she knew that Eadulf was not the best of horsemen but because of her care for the horses themselves. They should maintain the horses at a fast walking pace for long periods but now and then allow them to canter. She dismissed trotting, as this was tiring not only to the horse but also to the rider, who had to rise up and down in the saddle on alternate beats.

In this fashion, the party made good progress and as dusk began to fall on the first day they had reached a little fortified church and hostel called Rath Domhnaigh. By the end of the second day, leaving the territory of Muman and entering the kingdom of Laigin, across more hilly country, their pace slowed but they had reached Dun Masc, a fortress rising on a rock nearly fifty metres high and dominating a flat plain in the land of the Uí Chremthainn Ain. The chieftain had heard the news of the High King’s death and shrewdly guessed why Fidelma