Dancing With Demons

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

This new announcement was greeted with a stunned silence, as if everyone present had suddenly been transformed into statues of stone. Even the conspirators, about to be led away, looked shocked.

It was Abbot Colmán who finally broke the spell that had descended on the hall.

‘I think you had better explain, Fidelma,’ he said at last, trying to sound stern but sounding merely bewildered.

Fidelma turned to Iceadh the physician. ‘I would like to present my first witnesses for this statement. Stand up, Iceadh.’

The old physician did so, peering round nervously at the assembly.

‘When I first asked you to describe to me the wounds inflicted on Sechnussach’s body, what exactly did you tell me?’

Iceadh sniffed impatiently. ‘My account was no different from the one I gave everyone else. Sechnussach’s throat was cut. The jugular vein severed. Short stab to the heart. Either could have been fatal. Sharp instrument found with assassin. A hunter’s knife. Honed to sharpness that would slice anything. Sechnussach died instantly.’

‘Precisely,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘And the one thing that we have been overlooking was the short stab to the heart that, as you say, could be just as fatal as the cutting of the throat.’

Iceadh frowned and shook his head fiercely. ‘I did not overlook it,’ he said grumpily. ‘I reported it as I saw it.’

‘And I am glad you did so,’ confirmed Fidelma, with a pacifying smile. ‘But everyone else overlooked it. You see,’ she went on, turning to the Great Assembly, ‘Sechnussach had already been stabbed in the heart and killed before Dubh Duin entered the chamber and cut his throat.’

Brehon Sedna was leaning back and smiling sceptically as a ripple of sound ran round the Great Assembly.

‘Now that is a theory that you will be hard-pressed to prove, Fidelma,’ he remarked, almost patronisingly.

Fidelma flushed a moment and then returned his smile with her most dangerous icy look.

‘I never make claims that I cannot substantiate, Brehon Sedna. I now intend to prove it,’ she said sharply. She turned again to the physician. ‘Now, Iceadh, I know little of your profession but I have often watched my old mentor, Brother Conchobhair, at his work in Cashel.’

‘Brother Conchobhair is known to me,’ Iceadh acknowledged, ‘for I have read his treatise on the treatment of galar poil-the epilepsy which it is thought that Paul of Tarsus suffered after his vision.’

‘Would you have any objection if Brother Eadulf asked you a few questions? Most of you will know that Brother Eadulf studied for a while at the great medical school of Tuam Brecain.’

‘I will answer any question worthy of an answer,’ replied Iceadh coldly.

Eadulf stood up and smiled briefly at the physician.

‘I have but few questions, but hope you will find all of them worthy of answers, Iceadh. Let me begin by pointing out the obvious so that all members of the Great Assembly can follow our logic. Arriving here two weeks after the assassination, we were not able to inspect the body of Sechnussach, who had already been buried according to custom. That being so, we must rely on your eyes and observations.’

‘My observations are as sharp now as when I first examined the body,’ Iceadh replied fussily. ‘It is not often that one is called to examine the murdered body of one’s High King. I see the body very clearly in my mind’s eye.’

‘And that is good, for you have given us a weighty piece of evidence. As indicated by Fidelma, you pointed to the wound to the heart, which you said was as fatal as the cutting of the throat.’

‘That is true,’ Iceadh conceded, ‘but in what order the wound came, whether it was made before the cutting of the jugular or after it, I cannot say.’

‘I think, as we examine this, you will be able to do so,’ Eadulf assured him, to more gasps from the members of the Great Assembly. ‘I make no claims to be a surgeon, but at the medical school where I studied, I attended many lectures and demonstrations of surgery.’

‘Tuam Brecain is one of our greatest medical schools,’ Iceadh admitted. ‘I grant that the teaching there is of the best.’

‘I have never seen a man have his throat cut,’ went on Eadulf, ‘and, Deo volente, I hope I never will. However, the skilled masters at Tuam Brecain taught by showing what happens when the throat of an animal is cut, how the blood spurts forth like a great spring, powerful and strong.’

Iceadh smiled as if patiently trying to humour him. ‘Just so. Just so,’ he murmured.

‘Stay there a moment, Iceadh. For I would like to ask a question of Brónach,’ Eadulf said.

The woman looked startled and then rose to face Eadulf. ‘Must I answer this stranger?’ she demanded belligerently of Brehon Sedna.

The Brehon frowned in annoyance. ‘If you do not answer him, then you will answer to me,’ he snapped. ‘Eadulf is no stranger to us and has our entire confidence.’

Brónach flushed.

‘As a servant in the royal household, part of your duties was the washing of all the bedlinen. Is that not so?’ Eadulf did not seemed put out by her antagonism.

‘And still is,’ replied the woman tersely.

‘I recall that you told Fidelma and me that you took all the bedlinen and clothes from the High King’s chamber after his assassination for washing. Is that correct?’

‘If you remember, why ask me?’

‘So that you may confirm this to the Great Assembly and show that I am not putting words into your mouth,’ explained Eadulf patiently.

Brehon Sedna leaned forward. ‘I tell you again, Brónach, you will answer Eadulf’s questions promptly and without prevarication.’

‘It is so,’ snapped the woman.

‘Excellent,’ smiled Eadulf. ‘And there was, of course, blood on the linen?’

‘Of course.’

Eadulf glanced at her. ‘Do you recall telling us that there was so little blood that you were able to wash the sheets so that they could be used again, but Brother Rogallach told you to sell them as it would be unlucky for the royal household to keep them?’

‘I do.’ The woman looked wary now, trying to see if Eadulf was leading her into some dangerous admission.

‘Did you find it strange that there was so little blood?’

‘No — why should I?’

‘Because I have seen what happens when a sheep’s throat is cut. There is so much blood that I would say that the entire bed would be soaked in it. Anyway, I have finished. You may be re-seated, Brónach. Indeed, the matter of the lack of blood was perplexing. When we arrived here, Abbot Colmán mentioned that blood must have spurted like a fountain from the wound. It was only later that I discovered he had not actually examined the wounds. But if the throat was cut, the presumption was a valid one.’

Eadulf turned to indicate Irél. ‘It was the commander of the Fianna who first alerted us to the fact that there was little blood and its significance. He had seen many such neck wounds in battle and so commented at the lack of blood that flowed from Sechnussach’s wound.’

Iceadh, the physician, was now looking thoughtful.

‘It is true, now I think on it, that there was remarkably little blood that came from the area of the jugular; as you point out, one would expect fountains to have issued.’ He paused and his eyes widened. ‘The main area of blood was around the heart area. The High King lay on his back and most blood was pooled there. You have made a good observation,’ he said approvingly to Eadulf.

Brehon Sedna leaned forward to interrupt. ‘So what you are saying is that you think the wound into the heart was the fatal one and the throat was cut afterwards?’

‘Just so, just so,’ replied Iceadh. ‘I would agree with that contention. Mind you, there would have to be a short delay between the wounds — otherwise there would have been no negligible effect in the bloodflow. But, as I say, either one was fatal. Dubh Duin could have stabbed Sechnussach in the chest and then, not realising it was fatal, he could have also cut Sechnussach’s throat some time later. I do not see how the order of the wounds can prove … ’

Eadulf held up his hand to stop the old physician.

‘One more question, Iceadh. You observed the wounds. Were you able to ascertain any difference between the knives that inflicted the wounds?’

‘Knives? There was only one knife. It was found in the assassin’s own heart.’

‘Ah, so I don’t suppose you compared the type of wounds inflicted?’ asked Eadulf. ‘The measurements, for example?’

‘I observed only that the wound in the High King’s chest was one simplethrust, a sharp incision. The one in Dubh Duin’s chest was a jagged wound but this was probably due to the fact that he was in a hurry, having, as I am told, been discovered at that point.’

‘Is there any possibility that the two wounds were caused by two different knives?’

Iceadh stared at him. ‘It is not impossible. But only one knife was found and one assassin.’

Eadulf reached forward to take the knife that Fidelma had handed him from her marsupium. He passed it to Iceadh.

‘Had that knife been found next to the High King’s body, would you say that it could have been used in his fatal stabbing?’

Iceadh gazed at the knife. ‘Had it been found next to the body, yes I would have to say that it could have been the knife. But it was not found there.’

Eadulf smiled broadly at the other’s caveats.

‘At this stage,’ he said, ‘you do not have to make any other comment than confirm the possibility.’

‘Where was the knife found?’ demanded Brehon Sedna.

‘If you will be patient a moment or two longer,’ Eadulf replied, ‘Fidelma will come to that point. In the meantime, I would like to ask a question of Torpach, the cook.’

Torpach rose, looking puzzled. ‘What can I say about this, Brother Saxon?’ he muttered nervously.

‘Take the knife from Iceadh and tell us if you recognise it.’

The cook did so, examined it and then swallowed quickly. ‘It is the knife that went missing from my kitchen. A favourite knife. I think I mentioned it to you when poor Mer the Demented was found killed. But she was stabbed with a warrior’s knife. You said so.’

‘Indeed, she was — by the knife of Cuan, who confesses the deed and to the wounding of Brother Rogallach. But are you sure that this knife that you now hold is your own knife?’

‘I use it for slaughtering meat for the High King’s table. I have used it for many years. I know its marks on the handle. Oh yes, I know this knife very well.’

‘And when did you find it missing? I think you mentioned that to us.’

‘It was the day after the High King’s assassination, for there was a pig to be slaughtered. When I found it missing, I went to Brother Rogallach and told him. I even wondered whether the assassin had stolen it to usein his murder. Brother Rogallach assured me that it was not the same knife, for that knife had been found. Where was my knife discovered?’

Fidelma now stood up and allowed Eadulf to resume his seat. She looked quickly around the Great Assembly, noting that most of those present were visibly struggling to follow the arguments, before allowing her gaze to rest on Brehon Sedna.

‘Thank you for your indulgence,’ she told them all. ‘We will not be long now. The witnesses can resume their seats.’

Brehon Sedna addressed her. ‘You must tell us where the knife was found, Sister Fidelma. You have implied that it was used to kill the High King before Dubh Duin entered his bedchamber and cut his throat. It is a fascinating argument, but it must be backed by fact.’

‘I am coming to the facts,’ Fidelma replied calmly. ‘The knife was found in a secret passageway which leads from the High King’s chambers to a linen storeroom on the lower floor of the Tech Cormaic. The real killer left it there as they fled from the chamber when Dubh Duin entered. You see, Dubh Duin cut the throat of a man who was already dead.’

Brother Rogallach was expostulating. ‘I know of no such passageway, even though I have served here for many years!’

‘It can easily be shown to you after these proceedings,’ Eadulf promised.

‘We are now drawing to the final conclusion,’ Fidelma said. ‘Let me explain. From the very beginning, one thing became obvious to me. There was another person in the High King’s chambers when Dubh Duin entered to kill him. How do I know this? Because the guards were alerted by a scream from those chambers. They assumed it was Sechnussach’s death scream — but even had the High King not been dead already, how can a man with a severed throat scream? So who was responsible? The answer is: the person who was caught unawares by Dubh Duin. They fled through the secret passage, hiding the knife that they had plunged into the High King’s heart when he slept.’

‘I do not suppose we can identify this mysterious killer?’ Brehon Sedna asked.

Fidelma smiled quietly at his cynicism. ‘Certainly. It was the maid, Cnucha.’

Cnucha, who had been sitting quietly through all the proceedings, made no movement at all, other than to raise her head and smile faintly. Her expression seemed to say ‘prove it’.

The ripple of reaction in the chamber died away after a moment or two.

‘And will you tell us how you came to this conclusion and what motive Cnucha had?’ Brehon Sedna carried on.

‘Following the birth of her last child, Be Bhail, three years ago, the lady Gormflaith noticed an estrangement between herself and her husband. I have already mentioned this. As many of you know, it was soon afterwards that she set up her own household in the royal enclosure. She was sure, as she told her daughter Muirgel, that Sechnussach had taken a mistress or even a secret second wife. Why did Sechnussach reject Gormflaith? Who knows the deeper workings of a man’s mind. All he told her, as she repeated it to me, was that he preferred a girl — a girl was the word — who made no demands but, when called for, came to his bed like a maid. It is an interesting expression and one that revealed much about his mind. Gormflaith was a strong character, an intelligent person, and we can speculate that Sechnussach was not happy in his relationship.’

She looked to where Gormflaith was sitting. She could not see her expression, for the widow of the High King sat with bowed head.

‘If Gormflaith suspected that her husband had taken a mistress, but she didn’t know who it was, then I had to consider the possibilities. In the circumstances there seemed three candidates. It finally became clear in my mind who I was looking for when Brother Rogallach repeated a favourite saying of Sechnussach. Sit non doctissima conjux — may my wife not be very learned. He wanted a mistress who simply obeyed him and who would make no demands. Alas, there are such arrogant men in this world.’

Brehon Sedna was frowning. ‘But what you are now describing, Fidelma, is not the kind of person who would stab her sleeping lover in the heart and kill him.’

‘With respect, Brehon Sedna, I disagree,’ Fidelma said. ‘Cnucha is a plain-looking girl, quiet and overlooked by many. Her fellow maids thought of her as being timid as a mouse. Eadulf overheard her speaking to Brónach about Sechnussach early on, and it was very obvious that she had no high opinion of the High King’s attitudes. That was interesting. How did she know his attitudes?

‘In reality, Cnucha was far from being a quiet mouse. That was shown on two occasions, when she showed a flash of temper towards Brónach and then confessed that she got angry when people thought they could insult her because she seemed so meek and mild. Báine even told Eadulf. that Cnucha had thrown a jug at her once in a fit of temper. So, a passion was simmering there behind that quiet exterior.’

Brehon Sedna was having none of it. ‘These are merely circumstantial arguments, Fidelma. We need proof that places Cnucha in the High King’s bedchamber that night with the knife in her hand and then all these arguments might back your case.’

Fidelma turned to the girl. ‘I have a question to put to Cnucha.’

The girl slowly stood up. The pale eyes that stared at Fidelma were like ice; the face was a mask.

‘Do you recall a conversation with Brónach in the guesthouse in which you were discussing a time, just after Sechnussach’s death, when the lady Muirgel caught you searching his chambers?’

‘I cannot recall all conversations that passed between us.’

‘This one was interesting. Muirgel had struck you. You told Brónach that you had been searching for something that you had lost. Muirgel and Barrán actually thought you were spying on their conspiracy.’

A slight look of uncertainty came into the girl’s eyes. She made no reply.

‘Why were you searching there?’

‘I had lost something, that is all,’ Cnucha said hesitantly. ‘A personal possession. I noticed that I had lost it after I had been cleaning the chamber.’

‘Brónach cleaned the High King’s chambers after his death. I think you had lost this possession beforehand. You told Brónach what it was, didn’t you? It was valuable, wasn’t it?’

The girl mumbled, ‘It was valuable to me.’

‘Because a special person gave it to you? Come, Cnucha. We no longer have time to play games.’

‘It was a bracelet. That’s all.’

‘A bracelet worth a lot of money,’ added Eadulf.

‘It was a bracelet made up of silver Gaulish coins,’ Cnucha replied defensively.

Fidelma reached forward and held up the silver bracelet that she had taken from Cuan.

‘Where would you have dropped it? In the secret passageway, perhaps?’ she asked softly.

The girl’s eyes started as they looked at the bracelet.

‘Of course not! I was careful when-’ She suddenly realised what she was saying and then, without warning, she rushed towards Fidelma withoutstretched hands. ‘It’s mine! Give it to me! Give it to me! It’s the only thing he ever gave me … it’s mine!’

Two members of the Fianna caught her flaying arms before she reached Fidelma and held her tightly.

‘So,’ sighed Brehon Sedna, ‘you seem to have proved your point. You found the bracelet with the knife in this passageway?’

Fidelma surprised him by shaking her head.

‘Cuan will confirm the details. He stands confessed of Mer’s death and the wounding of Brother Rogallach, so has nothing to gain by lying now. When he and Lugna entered Sechnussach’s chamber, he saw the bracelet by the bed. Cnucha had discarded it, probably during that last night of lovemaking, before she killed her lover. While Lugna was distracted, Cuan picked it up, saw it was valuable and stole it. Cnucha had told Eadulf it was a bracelet of Gaulish coins. Eadulf is blessed with a good memory for detail and when he noticed that Cuan was wearing such a bracelet, he told me his suspicion. It was easy to get Cuan to confess how he had really come by it.’

Brehon Sedna sat back. ‘You have argued that Cnucha was the mistress of Sechnussach, and Cnucha’s actions here have now betrayed her. But what was her motive in killing the High King, her lover?’

‘A motive as old as the mountains, Brehon Sedna,’ replied Fidelma. ‘Love and hate can be two sides of the same coin. Perhaps Cnucha would like to explain?’

But the girl had relapsed into silence.

After waiting a moment, Fidelma turned back to the Brehon.

‘While Sechnussach saw Cnucha as merely a girl to have his way with, a timid thing whom he could summon to his bed at will and who would make no demands on him, like some pet dog to come at his beck and call, Cnucha truly loved him. Perhaps Sechnussach made her promises. He certainly gave her this valuable bracelet of Gaulish coins. Maybe one of those promises was that he would marry her, if only he was able to.

‘Then Cnucha probably learned, how does not matter, that Gormflaith was divorcing Sechnussach. She went to him, fully expecting him to say that he would marry her. He-’

‘Laughed at me!’ came Cnucha’s cold voice. ‘Laughed at the very idea of marriage to me … a mere servant. I could go to bed with him but I could not appear in public with him. That was when I took the knife fromthe kitchen and, after he had had his way with me, as he lay sleeping, I stabbed him in the heart. The pig will betray no one else again.’

After the tumult that greeted this declaration had died down and everyone was leaving the chamber, Eadulf turned to Fidelma and said privately, ‘I have to say, she was the last person I would have suspected. So quiet, so outwardly shy. You would hardly notice her in company. I felt sorry for her — I still do. It’s hard to think that she could rise to such passion that would make her into a killer.’

‘You should remember the old Roman saying — altissima quarque fiumina minimo sono labi,’ replied Fidelma philosophically.

‘The deepest rivers flow with the least sound,’ translated Eadulf.

‘However, you are right,’ she continued. ‘In a way, you must feel sorry for her. Sechnussach abused her. Yet I admired Sechnussach as High King. Indeed, I helped him come to the throne some years ago. We all have our faults, but his was a grievous fault in his attitude to women.’

‘What will happen to her?’

‘To Cnucha?’

Eadulf nodded.

‘She will be charged with duinetháide — secret killing. For she sought to hide her guilt.’

‘And if found guilty, as she will be?’

‘She or her family will have to pay Sechnussach’s honour price. That is twenty-one cumals.’

‘And if they can’t?’

‘At best, she will be consigned into service more or less as she is now, serving as a maid until the debt is paid or until she dies.’

‘At worst?’

‘At worst, and it rarely happens, she could be put into a boat with one paddle, food and water for a day and set adrift on an offshore wind. But I think a good defence will point out the circumstances of her case and how she was driven to her action. I will speak to Brehon Sedna and ensure she is well represented. The honour price could be greatly reduced in the circumstances, but she will have to pay or serve until such time she has paid off the debt.’