The Devil's seal

CHAPTER EIGHT

Eadulf moved quickly and called upon one of his companions to hold the weight of the body while he loosened the rope. Luan put down his lantern, then he and Enda did as requested while Eadulf took a knife to sever the rope. The body was lowered to the floor. Eadulf did not need to examine the corpse to see that Rudgal had choked to death, for the face was blackened and the features distorted. There was something else that caught his attention; something protruding from the corner of the corpse’s mouth. At first Eadulf thought it was his tongue, but when he carefully took it with thumb and forefinger and pulled, he found it was a piece of cloth.

Enda was peering at the corpse without emotion. ‘So he preferred death to the rule of law?’

Eadulf glanced up at him cynically. ‘So you think he hanged himself?’

Enda was puzzled at his response. ‘Isn’t it obvious? No wonder he was calm about being brought here as a prisoner. He knew he would never have to face the consequences of his actions.’

‘He was calm because he thought he could bargain for his freedom,’ Eadulf corrected.

‘I don’t understand.’ Enda was still baffled.

Eadulf stood up impatiently. ‘The facts are obvious. Look! His hands, as you saw earlier, are still bound together. So you leave a man tethered in this place and, as you claim, you have secured the doors properly.’

‘Doesn’t the fact that the bar was in place, even though it was not done as correctly as it should have been, indicate that no one else was involved in this?’ Gormán felt obliged to defend Enda.

‘Are you asking me to believe that a man who has confidence that he can negotiate his way out of this situation resorts to hanging himself? Are you suggesting that a man with hands securely tied can, in the darkness of this place, find a length of rope, fashion a noose, throw the rope over that high beam, place the noose round his neck, tie the other end to that bar across there and. . then what? Miraculously levitate himself so that the rope leaves him suspended in the air?’

‘If he had tied that end of the rope it would have been secured, then he could have found something to stand on, place the noose round his neck and taken the plunge that ended his life,’ Enda argued.

‘So, if that were possible — which it is not — where would he have taken the plunge from? Where is the stool on which to climb or a wooden box? Are you saying that after he had hanged himself, he climbed down and hid them? And he did all this with his hands still tied together?’ Eadulf tried to keep the derision out of his voice

‘What conclusion is there, friend Eadulf?’ Gormán asked patiently.

‘While we have been speaking with the King, someone came to this shed, removed the bar, stuffed that cloth into Rudgal’s mouth in the form of a gag, took the rope, put it in position and then hauled the victim up, choking him to death. The killer then secured the rope to the bar, and left the body. Perhaps he left in a hurry, for he did not properly secure the bar in its place at the door. Rudgal has been murdered — silenced to prevent him revealing the information with which he planned to barter for his freedom.’

Gormán was staring at him in amazement. ‘But that means. .’

‘Yes. It means that someone in the palace is the killer. That same person who killed Brother Cerdic has now killed Rudgal, which proves that there must be a connection.’

‘Well, we can eliminate some people from being suspected of the crime,’ Gormán suggested brightly.

‘Such as?’

‘Well, everyone who was in Colgú’s chamber. They are still there, waiting for us to take Rudgal before them.’

‘That still leaves a lot of suspects,’ Eadulf pointed out gloomily. ‘You had better take charge here while I inform Colgú. Question anyone who had business in and around the Laochtech while Rudgal was incarcerated. Someone might have seen or heard something that could lead us to the killer.’

‘I’ll do my best, friend Eadulf.’

Eadulf was not prepared for the reception that he received from Colgú’s Chief Brehon, Aillín, when he reported the death. Everyone had been shocked by the news, but Brehon Aillín stood forward aggressively.

‘I should now take over this matter, lord,’ he said stiffly. ‘This is the second murder in your palace within days, and both remain without a resolution. I would argue that this is because I have not been allowed to follow the obvious suspect. I should have been permitted to investigate the killing of Brother Cerdic in the first place. Had I done so, perhaps this second murder would have been prevented.’

Fidelma’s eyes narrowed dangerously; she already anticipated who the pugnacious Brehon would suggest as ‘the obvious suspect’.

‘You have a theory then which connects the murder of Brother Cerdic with this young outlaw?’ Colgú invited, not being as perceptive as his sister in the matter.

Fidelma could not restrain herself. ‘Yes — speak, Aillín. Share your insight with us and explain how the solution of the first murder might have prevented the second one?’

Brehon Aillín flushed angrily at her mocking tone. ‘Am I to be questioned by a junior, a dálaigh?’ he demanded.

‘I presume you do have an explanation?’ Colgú asked quietly. ‘The investigation into the death of Brother Cerdic has been placed in the hands of my sister who, junior or not, is experienced in such matters. But if you have a theory. .?’

Brehon Aillín drew himself up to his full height and his scowl deepened.

‘I am more experienced in law, which is why I am your Chief Brehon.’

‘By default!’ exclaimed Abbot Ségdae, softly but audibly. He had no time for the elderly judge.

‘I would at least be independent of undue influence,’ retorted the Brehon heatedly, glancing at Eadulf, who now picked up what was being implied and coloured hotly.

‘Independent?’ Fidelma found it hard to control her irritation. ‘By which I presume you imply that I am biased? As I recall, you wanted to blame the death of Brother Cerdic on Eadulf, based on the simple fact that he, too, was of the same nation. Is that so?’

Brehon Aillín would not back down. ‘I would have used logic, not emotion. The fact that Brother Eadulf has now been shown to be in the proximity of both deaths would not be ignored by me.’

Eadulf took an involuntary step forward, his hands clenched at his sides, but Colgú raised his hand to stay him. His own scowl had deepened. His voice became cold and deliberate.

‘You forget yourself, Brehon Aillín. In the matter of the death of this man, Rudgal, your logic may recall that Eadulf was here with us from the time Rudgal was brought into the palace until the time he went with Gormán to bring him before us and discovered the body. As for the death of Brother Cerdic, I thought you were joking when you claimed that Eadulf should be regarded as a suspect. Now I think I see some prejudice in your reasoning, for I see nothing else that needs to be responded to. You may now leave us.’

Brehon Aillín’s figure was rigid as the King spoke. His lips were bloodless; it seemed he had difficulty in articulating. ‘B-but the death of Rudgal,’ he stammered. ‘That has to be investigated.’

Colgú stared moodily at him for a moment. Then he said: ‘I shall appoint someone to consider the matter. I suggest you now retire to consider your own position. You are impugning the character of my sister’s husband without just cause and before witnesses.’

Brehon Aillín continued to stand absolutely still for a moment or two. His lips were still twitching, as if he were trying to respond. Then his jaw clenched, he swung round and strode out of the council chamber.

Fidelma’s expression had softened from anger to sadness. ‘Perhaps we were too hard on him, brother,’ she ventured.

Colgú regarded her in surprise. ‘You have a changeable temperament, sister.’

Fidelma shook her head. ‘I admit my faults. Sometimes I allow my passion to control me. I am inclined to think that Aillín is an old man and old men are sometimes wont to foolishness.’

‘He is Chief Brehon of Muman,’ Colgú replied sternly. ‘Even if he came to the position by the untimely death of poor Áedo, he is still the chief official of the law in my kingdom. He has standards to uphold.’

Eadulf cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘I would not like to see the man suffer simply because he dislikes me,’ he ventured.

‘Dislike is one thing, Eadulf,’ Colgú pointed out, ‘but accusing you of murder on the basis of dislike only, places him beyond service to the law. We all take an oath to pursue the truth.’

‘And to commit such a breach of etiquette in front of visitors. .’ It was the voice of Abbot Ségdae which brought them back to reality. Throughout the exchange Prince Cummasach had been sitting in silence with his Brehon standing at his side. They had been shocked by the exchange, and the news that had engendered it, but they had offered no comment. Now Cummasach rose from his chair.

‘We are wasting time,’ he announced distantly. ‘I have done my duty in capturing the man who led the attack on the religious on the river. I brought him here and placed him in the custody of the King. Now he is dead. I shall return to the Land of the Déisi.’

‘One thing remains, however.’ It was the Déisi Brehon, Furudán, who demanded their attention. ‘Although a confessed killer, Rudgal was killed unlawfully and in the palace of the High King. He was brought here under the protection of Cummasach, Prince of the Déisi. Therefore reparation must be given to Cummasach, whose reputation is thus impaired as being unable to extend his protection to those who have submitted to him.’

There was a silence before Colgú turned with a helpless glance to Fidelma.

‘Is that true?’ he asked.

Fidelma nodded slowly. ‘It is so. However, an adequate time must be given for a Brehon to be able to investigate and consider who was responsible for the unlawful killing before reparation is offered.’

‘An adequate time?’ queried Colgú, looking relieved and turning back to Brehon Furudán.

‘It is the law,’ agreed the Brehon. ‘Yet “adequate” is a word that can be debated.’

‘That which is acceptable for the task to be undertaken?’ suggested Fidelma softly.

‘Comchirte,’ replied the Brehon. It was the legal word for ‘acceptable’.

‘Then, as we are approaching the full of the moon,’ Fidelma said, ‘so let us wait until the next full of the moon. We will endeavour to complete the investigation by that time. Is that acceptable?’

Brehon Furudán and Cummasach exchanged a glance and both nodded at once.

‘Comchirte,’ repeated Furudán.

The rituals of the departure of Prince Cummasach and his Brehon were amiable enough. The laws of hospitality were adhered to. They had been pressed to stay and attend the evening meal, but politely declined. If the truth were known, Colgú was relieved.

After they had gone, he said to his sister, ‘It’s all very well, but what if you can’t resolve this matter? Now we have that to deal with as well as the death of that emissary of the deputation from Canterbury.’

‘There is no mystery without a solution, Colgú,’ Fidelma said firmly. ‘Leave it to us. A period between the full moons is adequate.’

The King did not look confident but accepted her optimism.

‘Gormán is already questioning the members of the bodyguard to see if they noticed anything,’ Eadulf told him.

‘The body should be taken to Brother Conchobhar to prepare for a funeral,’ Colgú declared. ‘Where is Egric? Did he identify the man as his attacker?’

Eadulf was unhappy. ‘My brother hasn’t returned from Rumann’s tavern since Cummasach brought his prisoner here. He’s with Dego. I will fetch him now and take him to view the body.’

‘Let us try to resolve this matter quickly,’ Colgú urged. ‘Now that Fidelma has informed me that this coming deputation includes none other than a brother of the Bishop of Rome, it becomes even more urgent.’

‘Are we sure that this Venerable Verax is truly brother to the Bishop of Rome?’ Abbot Segdae looked questioningly at Eadulf. ‘Brother Madagan did not know.’

‘If the man is the Venerable Verax, son of Anastasius of Segni, then that is the case. And he has great authority in the Church. There was no reason why Brother Madagan should know this. Only I recognised the name, having been in Rome for a while.’

‘Well, it is known now,’ Colgú said heavily. ‘This means we are dealing with someone of importance, a prince among princes. It also means,’ he turned with a scowl in search of his steward Beccan, ‘that we will have to prepare a feast and entertainment fit for such a man.’

‘What of Brehon Aillín, brother?’ Fidelma asked, still feeling guilty about the departure of the disgraced elderly judge.

Colgú sat back with a look of resolution at Fidelma. ‘I shall need a new legal adviser.’

‘Aillín is still your Chief Brehon,’ she demurred.

‘The man is a liability. He has never liked you nor accepted Eadulf. Now he has gone beyond reasonable behaviour. He has dishonoured me in front of the Prince of the Déisi and his Brehon.’

‘It will be up to the Council of Brehon to see if he has erred in any way and whether he needs to be replaced,’ Fidelma reminded him. ‘You cannot take his title from him before that happens.’

‘I wish I could,’ her brother sighed. ‘However, I can appoint whoever I like to advise me, so long as they are qualified. We have two unexplained deaths on our hands. You have already been charged with investigating one, Fidelma. Now you must take on the investigation of the other. Also. .’ he paused for a moment. ‘You and Eadulf will have to hold yourselves ready to advise me when this deputation arrives.’

Eadulf cleared his throat awkwardly.

‘You have a problem with this, friend Eadulf?’ the King wanted to know.

‘Brehon Aillín should be at your side during the visit by this deputation. Won’t it look strange if your Chief Brehon is absent?’

Colgú made a dismissive gesture. ‘I want someone I can trust, someone without prejudice. Moreover, someone forward-looking rather than the pedant and conservative that Aillín is.’

‘He will not take kindly to being dismissed,’ Fidelma warned.

‘I do not like doing it,’ confessed her brother. ‘But it is one of the responsibilities of kingship.’

‘It is up to you who you appoint to advise you, but it is the Council of Brehons who must appoint their Chief Brehon,’ repeated Fidelma.

‘The Council appointed Áedo as Chief Brehon,’ replied Colgú. ‘When Áedo was killed a few months ago while trying to save me from that murderous assassin, Aillín took over the office because the Council had made him deputy out of respect for his age and service. They did it as an honour for his age, not expecting him to accede to the office. Now it is time they convened and a new Chief Brehon was appointed.’

Abbot Ségdae smiled meditatively at Fidelma. ‘You stood against Áedo for the position last time.’

Fidelma replied, without amusement, ‘That is true. But it taught me that being Chief Brehon was not the position I thought it would be. I need to be involved in administering the law. A Chief Brehon spends most of their time administering the work of judges and lawyers throughout the kingdom and dealing with complaints and appeals. They become removed from the people — and it is with the people that my strength lies. I am content to remain an advocate.’

Eadulf disguised the relief that he felt at her words. For a while he had wondered if Fidelma would seize the opportunity to apply again for election before the Council of the senior Brehons of the kingdom. If truth were told, he had been delighted when she was rejected in favour of Áedo.

‘Well, we must ask the Brehons to convene their Council soon,’ Colgú decided. ‘I will send a messenger to let the leading Brehons know of my request.’

‘What of Brehon Aillín? How is he to be told?’ Fidelma asked, still concerned.

‘I will have a private talk with him,’ Colgú assured her. ‘He is a widower but his daughter and her husband have a farmstead south of Rath na Drinne. He will be well looked after.’

‘He might not accept this without protest,’ Fidelma said anxiously.

‘But accept it he must,’ Colgú replied, his voice firm. ‘Now we all have much work to do. Keep me informed of the events of your investigation.’

He rose, indicating their meeting was over.

Outside the King’s chamber, Fidelma seemed dispirited. ‘I wish there was some more pleasant way to end Aillín’s career. After all, he was not always an aging curmudgeon. Many young lawyers learned from him.’

‘It is out of our hands now,’ Eadulf responded philosophically.

Fidelma did not reply for a moment. Then she said: ‘Let us go in search of Gormán and see if has come up with anything. With luck, someone saw something around the storehouse.’

‘First I must find Egric and get him to identify the body, if he can,’ Eadulf reminded her.

As they entered the courtyard they found old Brother Conchobhar hurrying towards them.

‘I was coming to find you,’ he murmured, casting an almost conspiratorial look around him. ‘There is something that you must see.’

He turned and led them to his apothecary. They asked no questions, for the physician seemed in a state of some agitation. They followed him to a small room at the back of his workshop — a place where he usually examined and prepared bodies ready for burial. The corpse of Rudgal was stretched out on the table, ready to be washed for the burial. A racholl or winding sheet loosely covered him.

‘I was undressing the body,’ explained Brother Conchobhar, ‘when I found this object tied around the waist.’ He turned, and from beneath a bundle of clothes on a nearby chair he picked up a piece of material and handed it to Fidelma.

It was a narrow band of woven lambswool, once white in colour, but stained and dirty now. It was a curious shape — a band some three fingers thick, made as if to loop through itself. Embroidered on it were six black crosses.

‘In the old days,’ Brother Conchobhar recalled, ‘something like this was a ritual vestment worn by all bishops of the New Faith. Although this seems to be of a slightly different design.’

‘But why would Rudgal be hiding it around his waist?’ asked Fidelma. ‘Was this what he thought was significant?’

‘Do you think that Rudgal stole it from Victricius?’ Eadulf wondered. ‘Maybe Victricius was a bishop and this was his vestment?’ He took the lambswool from her and examined it carefully.

‘If so, he must have known something more about it,’ Fidelma said sensibly.

‘But what would someone like Rudgal know about the vestments of the ecclesiastics?’ Eadulf was frowning. ‘According to Brehon Furudán, Rudgal claimed that someone at Láirge’s harbour had paid him and his thugs to attack and kill the Venerable Victricius and my brother. I suppose that person may have told him something about it.’

‘That doesn’t sound likely.’ Fidelma was dubious. ‘If they were just hired thugs, Rudgal and his gang of cut-throats would not be let into any secret which gave them additional power, surely.’

‘Then if they weren’t told, why did he take it and hide it on his person? Why did he come here confident we would make a bargain with him? And why was he killed?’

Fidelma returned his gaze thoughtfully. ‘You are asking too many good questions, Eadulf. Anyway, I think we can be sure that he kept it as a means of bargaining for his freedom. But now I think we have another question to pursue.’

‘Which is?’ prompted Eadulf.

‘We know that this used to be a symbol that was worn by bishops years ago. Perhaps that symbolism has changed?’

Brother Conchobhar intervened. ‘I can make some discreet enquiries. Our Keeper of the Books is a man of great knowledge, and an enquiry from me would not give rise to any undue attention.’

‘But don’t show him this,’ Fidelma warned, folding the band. ‘Just describe it to him as if it was something you had once seen. In the meantime, I suggest you hide it somewhere safe.’

They emerged from Brother Conchobhar’s apothecary more perplexed than they had entered it. They found Gormán looking for them.

‘I just wanted to tell you that I have spoken to all the members of the bodyguard who were around the Laochtech while the prisoner was held there.’ He sounded frustrated. ‘None of them saw anything. Enda was in charge, since he and Luan secured the prisoner in the storehouse, as Eadulf will have told you. The Déisi warriors never left the brandubh game. Everyone else had their guard duties to perform and have been accounted for.’

‘The trouble is that the storehouse is behind the Laochtech,’ Fidelma observed. ‘Anyone could have gone round it and entered it without being seen by the warriors in the Laochtech.’

‘Well, there are other matters that I must proceed with,’ Eadulf said. ‘Has my brother returned yet? He needs to identify Rudgal’s body to say whether he was one of the attackers. He can’t still be in Rumman’s tavern, surely?’

Gormán turned to him in surprise. ‘He didn’t tell you?’

Eadulf frowned. ‘Tell me what? I haven’t seen him since I asked you where he was earlier.’

The young warrior nervously cleared his throat at Eadulf’s response. ‘He has left with Dego. They will be gone for a few days.’

Eadulf was staring at Gormán in incomprehension. It was Fidelma who asked the question. ‘Gone where for a few days, Gormán?’ she asked softly.

‘I told friend Eadulf here earlier that they were talking about fishing or hunting.’

‘And?’ snapped Eadulf, his voice dangerous. ‘What are you saying now?’

‘Well, Dego had permission from me to take some days’ rest after our recent trip. He was going to spend a few days fishing and hunting. He has a cabin somewhere in the Sliabh na gCoille.’

Eadulf knew that the Mountains of the Forest was the name of the peaks to the south-west. It was a large area.

‘When did you learn this?’ he asked coldly.

‘When you went to tell the King about the discovery of the body of the prisoner. Dego came back to the fortress at that moment to tell me he was leaving. As he had been in the township, the matter of questioning him about the death of the prisoner did not relate to him. I saw no objection to allowing him to leave.’ The warrior looked embarrassed.

‘That was not the problem.’ Fidelma spoke quietly. ‘This prisoner was supposed to be the man who attacked Egric, so Egric was needed as an official witness. Why did you not keep him here so that he could identify him?’

Gormán raised his arms in a helpless gesture.

‘Egric did not come back with Dego. I presumed that he was waiting for him in Rumann’s tavern. I thought that he had already told Eadulf his intention when Eadulf went to the tavern to see him earlier. In fact, I’ve just seen Beccan, who was asking whether Egric would be feasting with the King this evening. He was worrying about the arrangements as usual. I never saw a steward so worried about details. But. . well, didn’t you say that you were speaking about fishing to your brother?’

Eadulf shook his head in annoyance. ‘He did not mention any intention of leaving immediately with Dego on a fishing or hunting trip.’

The warrior was looking unhappy. ‘I did not realise that he had not told you, and it did not occur to me that you would disapprove.’

‘It’s not that I disapprove,’ muttered Eadulf fiercely. ‘However, the timing and circumstance are. . are odd.’

‘It’s not your fault, Gormán,’ Fidelma intervened. ‘We just needed to ask if Egric could identify this Rudgal as his attacker. But it is no matter, since that was just a formality. We have evidence aplenty. But with this second murder and the fact that the arrival of the deputation from the east is imminent, it would be better had all the trusted members of the King’s bodyguard remained in the palace.’

‘Perhaps if I sent a fast rider after them?’ Gormán offered.

‘Just a moment. Were they both on horseback?’

‘They had the horses they left with this morning. Dego only came back here to collect his belongings for the trip. Your brother had lost all his belongings in the attack on the Siúr, so I presume they would purchase some items in the town before they left.’

‘Which way were they heading?’

‘I am not sure. Dego’s cabin is among the mountains south of the Valley of Eatharlach.’

Fidelma turned to Eadulf. ‘A good rider might eventually be able to overtake them if he were sure of the direction they were taking.’

‘Surely there is only one main track to the south-west?’ he protested.

‘I think Dego would know a dozen more,’ she replied. ‘One could hide an entire army among those mountains, searching for years without being able to discover them.’

Fidelma understood the real reason why Eadulf was upset. His brother had felt so little concern for Eadulf’s feelings that he had left without a word, having only just been reunited with him.

‘If Dego has promised to return in a few days then he is a man of his word. We will have to wait until then, as probably nothing will be resolved meanwhile,’ Fidelma said soothingly. ‘Anyway, twice now Egric has told you that he did not know the purpose of the Venerable Victricius’ journey. Will he change his mind on a third questioning? He told you that Victricius carried papers. We now know from Cummasach, or rather his Brehon, that the papers had been destroyed by Rudgal and his companions. So there is not much help there.’

Eadulf breathed in deeply and then let the air out in a rush. It seemed to calm him a little. ‘So you advocate that we wait for Egric and Dego to return?’

‘There seems little else to do,’ she said. ‘There will be time to try to understand your brother’s attitude later.’

Eadulf was still troubled. He addressed Gormán: ‘You said that Dego’s cabin is in the mountains of Sliabh na gCoillte. Has he ever told you where?’

‘Dego likes to keep what he calls his “retreat” a secret from people.’

As Eadulf sighed, Fidelma asked: ‘There is something else on your mind. What is it?’

‘I was just thinking that, if what Victricius and Egric carried were part of this wider mystery — that they were attacked because of it, and now Rudgal has been killed because of it — then some danger may still attend Egric. After all, it was only by the smallest luck that my brother escaped from being killed alongside Victricius and the boatmen in the first place.’

Fidelma thought for a moment. ‘It is a good point, Eadulf. Yet by going away with Dego, whom we know from our own experiences to be a good warrior and able bodyguard, Egric may be safer than staying here in Cashel.’

Eadulf had not considered the point before. After a few moments, he concluded, ‘Perhaps you are right. He is safer being out of the way.’