But two hundred years of the spread of the Faith had produced men, and even a few women too, who sought to reject the rule of civil law and, led by Finian of Clonard, they had devised ecclesiastical laws which sought to replace the Law of the Fénechus by which the five kingdoms were governed.
Febal had mentioned the Penitentials of Cuimmíne, which had been inspired by Finian’s laws. These were now being taken from religious foundation to religious foundation, with the approval of Ultan of Armagh. Cuimmine had died only four years ago and already his ecclesiastical laws were finding
converts among the male religious for they, like Febal’s views, were based on the precepts of Paul of Tarsus.
Fidelma had good reason to resent the Penitentials of Cuimmine. Cuimmine had been responsible for the tragic death of her childhood friend, Liadin, who had been educated with her at Cashel. Liadin had become a religieuse and a poet of remarkable talent. She met a fellow poet from the kingdom of Connacht named Cuirithir and they had fallen in love. Cuimmine was the abbot of the community in which Cuirithir served and he sent him away, forbidding him ever to see Liadin again and using the arguments of Paul of Tarsus to forbid the relationship. He was an abbot of ascetic extremism. Cuirithir had left the shores of the five kingdoms and was never seen again. Liadin eventually sickened and died, broken and unhappy. Her grief had been extreme.
Fidelma had little respect for laws which made people unhappy for no accountable reason, that denied human beings their greatest asset — love. Liadin and Cuirithir should have ignored the ascetic extremism of Cuimmine and been strong enough to have gone away together. As she had lain dying, young Liadin had written her last song, ending:
Why should I hide
That he is still my heart’s desire
More than all the world.
A furnace blast
Of love has melted my heart
Without his love, it can beat no more.
A few days later she had indeed stopped her heart from beating.
Fidelma suddenly exhaled and shook her head. This was not what she should be thinking of. She should not be making moral judgments but looking for the evidence which
would identify the person responsible for two horrendous killings.
At least her next step was clear. She must have a longer talk with Sister Brónach.
She rose and began to walk along the seashore and up to the wooden jetty.
As she ascended the steps on to the quay she suddenly noticed a sail, white against the green and brown of the far hills which marked the opening to the inlet. She could hear a horn sounding across the little bay from the fortress of Adnár, obviously warning the occupants of the entrance of a ship into the inlet.
Fidelma raised her hand to shield the sun from her eyes and peered across the stretch of sparkling water.
Suddenly her heart began to beat more rapidly.
It was the
Foracha,
Ross’s
barc,
sailing swiftly and surely into the harbour.
All thoughts of Febal and even Draigen were gone from her mind. Now her thoughts were concentrated on what news Ross was bearing. Her mind was wholly concerned with the mystery of the Gaulish merchant ship and, more importantly, the beat of her heart was more for fear, fear of what news he might have about the fate of Brother Eadulf.
Fidelma had almost reached the side of the
barc
before Ross’s crews had finished hauling down the sails. The boat that she had taken from the abbey’s quay had positively skimmed the waters as she had bent into the oars with a will. The bow of the boat was bumping into the side of the
Foracha
before she realised it and she was being helped over the side of the craft while a sailor made her boat fast with a rope.
Ross came forward with a smile of greeting.
‘What news?’ demanded Fidelma breathlessly even before greetings could be exchanged.
Ross motioned towards his cabin at the stern of the ship.
‘Let’s go and talk a while,’ he said, his facial expression changing to one of seriousness.
Fidelma had to contain her curiosity until they were seated in the cabin and Ross had offered her an earthenware vessel of
cuirm,
which she declined. He poured himself a measure and sipped slowly.
‘What news?’ she prompted again.
‘I have found the place where the Gaulish merchant ship was moored three nights ago.’
‘Is there any sign of Ead … the crew or the passengers?’ Fidelma demanded.
‘I must tell the story in order, sister. But there was no sign of anyone.’
Fidelma compressed her lips for a moment at the disappointment which she felt.
‘Tell me the story then, Ross. How did you discover what you did?’
‘As I said, before I left here, judging by the tides and winds, there were two likely places from where the Gaulish ship might have been blown. The first was over to the southeastern headland called the Sheep’s Head. That is where I sailed first. We sailed around but could find nothing out of the ordinary. We encountered some fishermen who said that they had been casting their nets in those waters all week and had seen nothing. So then I decided that we should go on to the second likely spot.’
‘Which was where?’
‘A place at the end of this very peninsula.’
‘Go on.’
‘At the end of the peninsula lies a long island, it is called Dóirse, which as you will know, means “The Gates”, because, in a way, it stands as the south-western gate to this land. We sailed around the island but could not see anything unusual. I have traded with the islanders several times and so I thought that I would put into the harbour there and see what gossip I could pick up. We landed and I asked my men to keep their ears open for any news about the Gaulish ship. We did not have to seek far.’
He paused and took a sip of his drink.
‘What did you learn?’ urged Fidelma.
‘The Gaulish ship had been moored in the harbour. But therein lay a curious story. Some strange warriors had sailed it in to the island’s harbour well after dusk on the evening before we encountered the ship on the high seas.’
‘Strange warriors? Gauls?’
Ross shook his head.
‘No. Warriors from the clan of the Ui Fidgenti.’
Fidelma hid her surprise.
‘They had with them a Gaulish prisoner, however.’
‘A single Gaulish prisoner? There was no sign of a Saxon monk?’ Fidelma felt a pang of disappointment.
‘No. The prisoner was apparently a Gaulish seaman. Being hospitable, the islanders invited the warriors ashore as it appeared they had no provisions on board. A single guard was left on board with the prisoner. The next morning, the people found that the ship had gone. It had sailed while the warriors were in a drunken slumber due to the islanders’ hospitality. The warrior who had been left on board the vessel was discovered floating in the harbour — dead.’
‘What did they discern from that?’
‘That the Gaulish prisoner had somehow escaped, overpowered the guard, thrown him overboard, and sailed the ship out of the harbour.’
‘A single man? Sail a big ship like that? Is that possible?’ Ross shrugged.
‘It is, if the man was knowledgeable and determined enough.’
‘What then?’
‘The warriors were angry and requisitioned some island ships to take them back across the sound to the mainland.’
Fidelma thought over the matter.
‘It is a strange story. The Gaulish merchant ship is sailed into the harbour of Dóirse by a band of warriors of the Ui Fidgenti with a single Gaulish sailor as their prisoner. The ship ties up. In the morning, it has disappeared with the Gaulish sailor. The warriors then cross back to this peninsula. Later that morning, towards midday, we encounter the ship under full sail and deserted.’
‘That is the story, strange or not.’
‘Can the information you picked up on the island — Dóirse, you called it — be trusted?’
‘The people can,’ confirmed Ross. ‘I have traded with them for years now. They are an independent people who do not regard themselves as under the rule of Gulban the Hawk-Eyed, though technically it is his territory. They hold allegiance to their own
bó-aire.
So they are not concerned with keeping the secrets of those on the mainland.’
‘Do you know whether the warriors of Ui Fidgenti gave any explanations to the local
bó-aire
about what they were doing with the Gaulish ship?’
‘There was some talk that it was trading with the mines on the mainland.’
Fidelma raised her head sharply.
‘Mines? Would those be copper mines?’
Ross glanced searchingly at her before nodding agreement.
‘Across from Dóirse, on the mainland, and in the next bay, there are several copper mines which are worked. They do a trade not only along the coast but with Gaul.’
Fidelma drummed her fingers on the table, frowning as she considered matters.
‘Remember the red clay-like mud in the hold of the Gaulish ship?’ she asked.
Ross inclined his head in an affirmative gesture.
‘I think that they were deposits from a copper mine or somewhere where copper is stored. I think the answer to this mystery might lie at the site of those copper mines. Yet I cannot understand why men of the Ui Fidgenti would be sailing the ship. Their clan territory is a long way to the north of here. Where were the men of Beara, of Gulban’s sept?’
‘I could sail back and make further efforts to gain information,’ offered Ross. ‘Or I could sail to the mines, pretending to trade, and see what can be found.’
Fidelma shook her head.
‘Too dangerous. There is some mystery here which is compounded by the fact that Torcán, the son of the prince of the Ui Fidgenti, is a guest at Adnár’s fortress.’
Ross’s eyes widened.
‘There is surely a connection?’
‘But a connection with what? I believe that this mystery may be fraught with dangers. If you sail back again then you might arouse suspicion. There is no need to put people on guard if we can avoid it. We must know what we are
dealing with first. How far are these copper mines from here?’
‘About two or three hours’ sailing if you keep close to the coastline.’
‘What if you simply crossed the peninsula? How many miles?’
‘As the crow flies? Five miles. By a navigable route across the mountains, perhaps ten miles or less.’
Fidelma was silent as she considered the matter.
‘What should we do?’ prompted Ross.
Fidelma raised her head, having come to the conclusion that she must investigate the matter herself.
‘Tonight, under cover of darkness, we shall ride across this peninsula to the spot where these copper mines are situated. I have a feeling that we might find an answer there.’
‘Why not ride now? I could easily buy horses from one of the farmsteads further down the coast.’
‘No, we will wait until midnight and for two reasons. Firstly, because we do not want anyone to know we have gone to these mines. If Torcán, or Adnár are involved in some illegal matter then we do not want to warn them of our intentions. Secondly, this evening, I have accepted to attend a feast at Dun Boí with Adnár and his guests, Torcán and Olcán. Perhaps this will turn out to our advantage for I may be able to pick up some news.’
Ross was far from happy.
‘The matter of the Ui Fidgenti worries me, sister. For some weeks now there have been many rumours along the coast. It is said that the Eoganán of the Ui Fidgenti has his eyes on Cashel.’
Fidelma smiled wanly.
‘Is that all? The Ui Fidgenti have always aspired to the kingship of Cashel. Did they not rise up against Cashel twenty-five years ago when Aed Slane was High King?’
The Ui Fidgenti were a large clan in the west of the kingdom of Mumam whose princes and chieftains preferred
to call themselves kings and claimed that they were the true descendants of the first kings of Cashel. They argued that they had a prior claim to Cashel over that of Fidelma’s own family. Fidelma’s father had been king at Cashel at the time of her birth and now her brother, Colgú, had succeeded his cousin to occupy the seat of the provincial kings of Mumam. Fidelma’s brother was answerable to no man except the High King. Fidelma had grown up with tales about the claims of the Ui Fidgenti who sought to depose her family’s right to the kingship of Cashel. None had been more vociferous in such claims than the current prince, Eoganán.
Ross was frowning in disapproval.
‘What you say is so, sister. But your brother, Colgú, has only sat on the throne these last few months. He is young and untried. It is obvious that, if Eoganán of the Ui Fidgenti wanted to make a move to overthrow Colgú, he would make his move now, while Colgú was still unsure of himself.’
‘What sort of move? My brother’s right to office has been endorsed by the great assembly at Cashel. The High King has approved of the decision from Tara.’
‘Who knows what Eoganán is planning? But the gossip along the coast is that some evil is being concocted.’
Fidelma considered the matter carefully.
‘All the more reason why I should attend the feast this evening for perhaps Torcán may reveal something of his father’s plans.’
‘You could only put yourself in danger,’ Ross pointed out. ‘Torcán will doubtless find out who you are …’
‘That I am sister to Colgú? We met in the forest yesterday. He already knows that.’
She paused and frowned a moment thinking about the arrow that nearly ended her life. Could Torcán have fired that arrow deliberately knowing her to be Colgú’s sister? But then why would he attempt her life? She was nothing to do with the succession at Cashel. No. That would not be logical. Besides, Torcán and his men were equally surprised to
discover her identity and sought to cover their mistake. If the arrow had been aimed deliberately by Torcán, it was not at her. They could have easily killed her in the forest.
Ross was watching her expression carefully.
‘Has something happened already?’ he guessed.
‘No,’ she lied quickly. ‘At least,’ she corrected herself after a pang of guilt, ‘nothing to change our plan. At midnight, after the feasting at Dun Boí I will meet you and one of your men in the woods behind the abbey. Secure three horses but do so without arousing any suspicion.’
‘Very well. I will take Odar, for he is a good man to have with us. But if Torcán is at this feast, I would rather that you were not attending.’
‘No harm will come to an official of the law courts of the five kingdoms. It would be more than king or citizen would dare,’ declared Fidelma. She wished, as she uttered the words, that she truly believed them.
She rose to her feet and Ross followed her from his cabin to the side of the barc. It was clear that she did not have his full approval for her plan. But, in the light of nothing better, he accepted it.
She was about to descend down the ship’s side when he asked: ‘How is the matter that brought you here?’ He gestured with a jerk of his thumb towards the abbey. He had almost forgotten the original reason why he had brought Fidelma to this spot. ‘Has the problem been resolved?’
Fidelma felt a little guilty that the mystery of the headless corpse and the matter of Sister Síomha’s death had almost been driven out of her thoughts by the arrival of Ross and his news.
‘Not yet. In fact,’ she grimaced awkwardly, ‘there has been another death in the abbey. The
rechtaire,
Sister Síomha, has been found slain in the same manner as the unknown corpse. However, I believe that the clouds of mystery have begun to clear. But there is much that I find evil in the abbey.’
‘If there is danger …’ Ross hesitated awkwardly. ‘You have but to call on me and on any of my men. It might be best to have a bodyguard from now on.’
‘And alert my quarry that I feel the hunt is nearing its lair?’ She shook her head.
Sister Fidelma reached forward and laid a hand on the worried sailor’s arm and smiled.
‘Just be in the woods at midnight with Odar and the three horses and ensure that you are not seen.’