‘Thank you, brother, for choosing me,’ she said with a happy smile.
‘It was, frankly, not my choice,’ Colgú said, with a shake of his head. ‘It was Abbot Iarnla who specifically requested you,’ he replied dourly. ‘He remembered that you had resolved the problem with Maolochtair.’
‘It is still well,’ Fidelma replied, undeterred.
‘Then there is the condition that Ségdae and I would impose on you before you accept this undertaking,’ her brother added. ‘In sending to Abbot Iarnla and saying that you would attend him, we have presumed your acceptance of this condition.’
An expression of uncertainty crossed her features. ‘I shall not withdraw my request to the Council of Brehons,’ she said firmly.
‘I did not expect you to. The condition is that you are to be accompanied by one other.’
Her expression grew dark and ominous.
‘After all this time, you do not trust my experience?’ she said sharply.
‘On the countrary, I do trust your experience. Sometimes, however, I do not trust your emotions.’
‘Who have you foisted on me to investigate this matter?’ she demanded aggressively.
‘Someone you have worked well with in the past and to whom my kingdom owes a great debt. I have asked Brother Eadulf to be here by this afternoon.’
Fidelma stood for a moment, saying nothing. Colgú watched the emotions chase each other across her face until she brought them under control.
‘I had not imagined that you were a matchmaker, brother,’ she finally said in a tone of irony.
Colgú resumed his seat before responding.
‘Neither am I, sister. In such a matter as this, where the community of Lios Mór now speak of dark, supernatural deeds, I felt that I should send those best qualified to bring about a rational resolution. Do you deny that you and Eadulf have worked on such mysteries in the past and come to a logical resolution of them?’
‘I do not. Yet it seems that you have not accepted what I have said about Eadulf.’
‘I have understood exactly, Fidelma.’
‘He will not accept this,’ she said firmly. ‘He will not come.’
‘In that case, you are absolved from the condition and you may go alone.’
Fidelma hesitated. Her brother’s words suggested that he had no doubt Eadulf would come.
‘We shall see, then.’
Later, in her chamber, Fidelma sat alone and reflected on the situation. She had to admit to herself that she did hope Eadulf would come but Eadulf was a stubborn man and she had been particularly caustic with him during that last argument. She gazed moodily at the fire in the hearth as she remembered their parting. He had called her arrogant and accused her of being too concerned with her own wishes and having little or no concern for others. He had even told her that she was unwilling to tolerate other people’s opinions or beliefs. That was partially untrue. She knew her own faults.
It was when Eadulf had said that she had too much pride in herself and scorned others that she had lost her temper and told him to leave. It was true that she would not tolerate ignorance or false pride in others but her own pride … she did not think of it as pride to have faith in her knowledge of law and to pit thatknowledge against others. She did not tolerate fools gladly. That was not arrogance. She was not full of unwarranted pride or self- importance. It was only when she came up against those who would not treat her with the respect her knowledge of law warranted that she was forced to remind them that she held the second highest degree it was possible to obtain from the law schools. If they had no respect for that, then she reminded them that she was the daughter of a king and the sister of a king. It was so easy to be overwhelmed by the dictates of others that she was determined to repulse anything that she saw as an infringement of her independence. Was that being overbearing and haughty, as Eadulf pointed out?
Fidelma sighed deeply. She was aware that she was trying to justify her faults and that made her more irritable. At the same time, she tried to examine her feelings for Eadulf. He was only the second man she had allowed into her life. The first had been a young warrior called Cian who had awakened her sensuality as a girl and then brutally discarded her for another. She had barely been eighteen years old when she had met the handsome warrior of the High King’s bodyguard, the Fianna. Cian’s pursuit of her had been frivolous and her life had become a turmoil of conflicting emotions. The memory of Cian had haunted her until she had met him again on a pilgrim ship and events had caused her to realise the folly of the bitter-sweet intensity of her youthful affair.
And Eadulf? Eadulf was very different to Cian. When she had first met him at the great synod held by King Oswy at Streoneshalh, she had not liked him but, by the end of the council, she reluctantly felt that he had become a friend. It had taken a long while before she had come to accept that friendship could become the basis of a partnership in marriage. Even then she had been cautious, first agreeing to a trial marriage of a year and a day, as was the custom of her people — tobecome his
She stirred again and sighed.
And there was their son, little Alchú. She suddenly felt guilt as she recalled her emotions following his birth more than three years ago. They had bordered on the resentful. Initially she had felt confined by the presence of the child and a responsibility she did not want. When she was called to investigate a series of murders at the great abbey of Finnbarr, she had had a wonderful feeling of freedom and then, returning to Cashel, of depression. She loved her child; she declared it fiercely to herself. Too fiercely? After his birth she had had all manner of depressive thoughts. She even began to question whether she was ready for marriage — marriage to anyone.
Her mind turned quickly back to Eadulf. She had concerns for him. She was concerned that, under the law of her people, theirs was not a marriage of equals. She was of royal rank and Eadulf, being a foreigner, did not have equal property rights with her. Did Eadulf still feel resentment because of this? She knew that she could not really contemplate an existence without Eadulf’s support. Who else would tolerate her sharp temper, which she accepted was her biggest fault? She enjoyed Eadulf’s company, his friendship and his tolerance. Perhaps she had taken it all for granted and when, a few weeks ago, he had proposed his idea of a withdrawal from Cashel … well, bitter words were exchanged. After he had left Cashel, she had felt a curiousisolation, a loneliness, which she had tried to cover with her fierce determination to pursue the law.
She wanted to apologise to Eadulf for her temper but, at the same time, she felt that she was right; that she should be allowed her individuality and the freedom to pursue her own path in life. She had no wish to dominate but she wanted a supportive partnership. Would Eadulf see an apology as surrender? She was growing more confused than ever.
There was movement outside that caused her to look up from her meditation.
Fidelma knew who it was as soon as she heard the footfall outside the door. A smile of excitement came to her lips, which she immediately sought to control. Before she could do so there was a knock and she had called out, ‘Come in, Eadulf.’
Eadulf stood uncertainly on the threshold.
In spite of her misgivings, Fidelma rose and moved towards him, both hands outstretched.
‘I’ve missed you,’ she said simply.
‘And I you,’ he replied slightly stiffly, although he responded to her embrace. She drew back, her eyes searching his.
‘You should know at once that I have asked Abbot Ségdae for his blessing on my withdrawal from the religious.’
He was silent for a moment, his face expressionless.
‘I did not doubt that you would follow that course once you had set your mind to it. I assume that you are sure that this is what you want?’
