The Seventh Trumpet

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

As Fidelma and Eadulf rode up the slope towards the gates of the fortress of Gelgéis of Éile, they could see that this time they had been recognised. One of the guards had disappeared inside, apparently to alert the steward. The other guard greeted them respectfully as they trotted through the gates into the courtyard, and two attendants came forward to hold their horses’ heads while they dismounted. The atmosphere was friendlier than at their first arrival at the fortress — was it only two days ago?

The sallow-complexioned steward, Spealáin, appeared on the steps of the Great Hall, then came forward to greet them with a wary smile of welcome on his dark features.

‘Greetings, lady, and to you, Brother Eadulf. We did not expect you back so soon, especially with the news from the west.’

‘And what news would that be, Spealáin?’ Fidelma asked.

‘Have you not heard, lady? It is bad news, indeed.’

‘I have heard that there has been some battle near Muine Gairid,’ she said, glancing at Eadulf, ‘and that the bandits were dispersed.’

‘That is old news now, lady. Apparently there is to be another and bigger battle expected any day now. Your brother, King Colgú, has led his troops out of Cashel to meet the rebel force. I am told that he has led an entire cath, a battalion of three thousand warriors, into the land of the Uí Fidgente.’

They heard his words in amazement and Eadulf began: ‘But if the bandits had fled after being confronted …?’

‘The raiders apparently rode back into the western mountains where, it is reported, they have regrouped and were joined by many others. Now a large rebel force has gathered.’

‘How did you come by this news?’ Fidelma wanted to know as the steward conducted them into the Great Hall of Durlus.

‘We heard the news only last evening, when Drón of Gabrán and his daughter arrived from Cashel. Your brother had sent them hither for safety in case the day does not go well for him.’

‘They brought this news to you?’ Her tone was slightly incredulous.

‘Indeed, they did, lady.’

‘And they are still your guests here?’

‘They are. They came with an escort of Drón’s bodyguard.’

‘We would like to see the Lady Gelgéis,’ Fidelma said after a brief pause.

‘I will take you to her chambers immediately.’

They followed him across the Great Hall which, for the time being, appeared to be empty. Eadulf could see that Fidelma was as astonished by the news as he was. It was astounding to hear that a band of raiders had grown overnight into a large rebel army. However, it seemed unlike Colgú to send anyone away from Cashel for safety. The great Palace of the Eóghanacht was one of the strongest fortifications in the country, rising 200 feet above the surrounding countryside on its base of limestone rock; its walls had never suffered a defeat since the great King Corc had first kindled his fires on it and proclaimed it to be the seat of the Kings of Muman many centuries before. Not even when Colgú had led his troops against the rebellious Uí Fidgente some years before at Cnoc Áine, had there been any necessity to abandon Cashel. This was strange news indeed. She wished that she had not let Enda ride off to Cashel at dawn if all was not well there.

Spealáin accompanied them up a wide stone stairway on the far side of the hall to the next floor, where the senior members of the fortress had their living quarters. At the end he asked them to wait while he knocked respectfully on the door of what turned out to be Gelgéis’s personal reception room. He entered and closed the door behind him, only to reappear a moment later and beckon them in.

Gelgéis had risen from her chair in token of respect to Fidelma. Eadulf, behind Fidelma, saw her body tense a little. Then he realised that Gelgéis had been closeted with Drón, the emaciated-looking noble of Gabrán. He had also risen, and there was something close to a sneer on his thin, red lips. Unattractive as it was, Eadulf knew from past experience that this was the closest the man could come to a smile.

‘It seems that my small fortress has become a place of refuge for the Eóghanacht and their kin,’ greeted Gelgéis dryly.

Fidelma took a deep breath. ‘I am not seeking refuge …’ she began.

‘Then you have not heard the news?’ It was Drón who intervened.

‘The steward has told us a story which we can hardly believe,’ she replied. ‘I find it curious that my brother, the King, should advise you, Lord of Gabrán, to seek refuge away from Cashel whose walls have never once been breached since the Eóghanacht made it their capital. I am told that a rebel army has suddenly materialised as if by magic out of the western mountains.’

Eadulf was sure that the twitch at the corner of Gelgéis’s mouth was one of amusement. She indicated that they should be seated and resumed her own seat.

‘We were just discussing the matter,’ she said. ‘Of course, your brother would be concerned with the safety of his bride-to-be but I think Drón was about to answer this very question when you arrived. If I understand matters correctly, Drón himself made the suggestion that they come here.’

‘I was concerned,’ admitted Drón. ‘I suggested that we removed ourselves from Cashel until this matter of rebellion in the west is resolved.’

Fidelma turned to him. Her expression brought a faint colour to his pale cheeks.

‘I have my daughter’s safety close to my heart, lady,’ he continued defiantly. ‘It was not of myself that I was thinking. I would stay and draw my sword in defence of the King if it were necessary. I have tried to keep Dúnliath out of harm’s way ever since her mother abandoned her. Were it not for my daughter, I would gladly volunteer to join any of the King’s hosting.’

‘Of course,’ agreed Gelgéis in a sweet tone of voice. ‘No one is questioning your loyalty to the King. Yet I perceive no danger to Cashel. You have told me that Colgú is leading an entire battalion of his warriors out to face these rebels …’

‘And yet,’ Fidelma intervened with emphasis in her voice, ‘my understanding was that these same rebels, whoever they are, were just a band of raiders, bandits who had already been defeated by a single company of my brother’s warriors. How have they now grown into a great rebellious army?’

‘The survivors of these rebels were driven back into the western mountains and there they were joined by many others,’ Drón said immediately. ‘That certainly was the story that merchants brought to us and why I decided to hasten here for safety when Colgú left to confront them.’

‘With my brother gone from Cashel, who was left in charge of its defences?’ asked Fidelma.

‘Why, his heir-apparent, I suppose. Finguine.’

‘So Finguine has returned from the Cenél Lóegairi?’

‘He returned a few days ago. However, with rebellion abroad I felt that we should seek protection in a more neutral territory.’

Fidelma’s eyebrows rose slightly. ‘A neutral territory? Éile is still part of the Kingdom of Muman,’ she pointed out.

‘Well, whatever the cause of your coming here, Drón,’ Gelgéis said quickly, ‘be assured that you and your daughter are welcome to share the safety of these walls from any enemy, be they foreign or domestic. The freedom of our fortress is yours, Drón. I shall look forward to your company at the midday meal?’

It was clear that Drón was being dismissed. He did not look happy but rose reluctantly to make his exit with formal etiquette. However, as he passed by Fidelma, he paused and whispered: ‘There is a matter I wish to speak with you about. Urgently.’

‘Then I will find you later,’ nodded Fidelma.

When the door had closed behind him, leaving Gelgéis alone with Fidelma and Eadulf, the Princess of the Éile seemed to relax.

‘I cannot forget that Drón is of the Osraige and I find it difficult to trust him,’ she confided. ‘So now, Fidelma, you seem sceptical of the news he brings. You do not believe that there is a full-scale rebellion in the west of the kingdom rather than just a series of bandit raids?’

‘What do you believe?’ countered Fidelma.

‘I think Drón is more timid than he likes to admit.’ Gelgéis smiled. ‘I believe he came here fearing more for his own safety than that of his daughter. But I can’t see him inventing the idea of your brother having to lead an entire army to the west if he was just going to put down a few bandits.’

Fidelma was thoughtful for a moment.

‘I could understand the matter of a western rebellion more readily if the Uí Fidgente had joined it. For a long time they tried to overthrow Cashel, but the defeat of their warriors at Cnoc Áine some years ago saw an end to such ambition. Prince Donennach, who rules now, is a wiser head than his predecessors. He has brought the Uí Fidgente to a peaceful and productive state of affairs. And, of course, we have heard that these western raids were as much against their settlements as anyone else.’

‘Added to the fact that the bandits have never been large in number,’ according to reports, it seems curious that an entire army has suddenly emerged to frighten Drón,’ Eadulf said.

Gelgéis was nodding slowly. ‘I cannot disagree with your observations.’

There was a tap on the door and Spealáin came in, looking anxious. He hurried over to Gelgéis and murmured in her ear. She visibly started and her expression matched that of the steward. Then she rose.

‘You will have to excuse me,’ she said. ‘Some urgent matter needs my attention. I shall be busy for a while but I trust you will join me for the midday meal. We shall talk more then.’

Fidelma and Eadulf rose in surprise at this brusque dismissal.

‘We were hoping to put some questions to you,’ Fidelma protested.

‘The hospitality of Durlus is yours, lady,’ replied Gelgéis. ‘I hope, before long, that I may fully explain my situation. But, like you, until I can understand certain things and who is involved, I can trust no one … not even the sister of a King.’ She turned to Spealáin. ‘See to the wants of our visitors,’ she instructed him.

As Spealáin was ushering them from the chamber, Fidelma saw that Eadulf about to speak, but she shook her head in his direction to stop him making any remarks in front of the steward.

‘How may I be of service to you?’ asked Spealáin.

‘Where is Drón at the moment?’ Fidelma enquired.

‘He went to the stables where some of his men are tending their horses.’

‘His Osraige warriors are at the stable?’

‘Some of them. Others are playing buanbaig in the courtyard.’

Buanbaig was, like fidchell and brandubh, a popular board game.

‘Do you have a good garrison here?’

Spealáin appeared to realise what her question implied.

‘Enough to protect Durlus,’ he replied distantly. ‘But I fear that your question is inappropriate. I can answer only to the Lady Gelgéis on matters of detail of the security of this fortress.’

‘Inappropriate or not,’ Fidelma said steadily, ‘I would be on constant alert, with warriors from the Osraige being allowed unhindered access to this fortress.’

The steward stared at her for a moment and then gave an eloquent shrug. ‘You share my lady’s concerns. Don’t worry. They will be watched — as will all the strangers within this fortress.’ The last sentence was added softly, almost as an afterthought.

They had come to the main door of the Great Hall where the steward halted and said apologetically, ‘If you will forgive me, I have other duties to attend to. But you can see the location of the stables from here. Unless you have specific need of me, I will let you find Drón by yourselves.’ With a swift nod of his head, he vanished into the hall.

Fidelma was thankful, for she did not want the steward present when she spoke with Drón. She was about to proceed down the steps to the courtyard when she saw Eadulf looking puzzled. As he was about to speak, Fidelma gave him one of her rare mischievous grins. ‘I swear I shall scream if you say that you have no understanding of these matters, Eadulf.’

‘I wish I could say it were otherwise,’ he sighed. ‘It is clear that Gelgéis is not being open with us. What does she mean, that she cannot trust you? Whose side is she on?’

‘Fidelma!’

The call of greeting was almost gushing with good will. They turned to see the slender figure of Dúnliath emerging from the Great Hall behind them.

‘Why, Fidelma, and Brother Eadulf … how wonderful to see you both here! I thought I was going to be so bored. Now I am happy.’

Fidelma suppressed an inward groan. ‘It is good to see you so well, lady,’ she replied pleasantly. ‘I had heard that you came here with your father.’

The girl pouted. ‘Oh, indeed. He is a dear person but such a dullard — always busy with affairs of state and law and wars and all those silly things. He insisted that we must come here … and for why?’

Fidelma’s expression was solemn. ‘He did not tell you?’ she queried.

The girl frowned. ‘Something about being safe until affairs in Cashel were cleared up. I don’t know what affairs. Do you?’

Fidelma ignored the question and asked: ‘How did you leave my brother?’

‘Colgú? He was well when I last saw him.’

‘When and where was that?’

‘Yesterday morning at Cashel, when he left.’

‘Where was he going?’

‘He said something about having to ride off with some of his warriors. I don’t understand it. We were going to have such fun with a feasting and entertainment, and he suddenly changed his mind and said he had to leave.’

Fidelma regarded the girl with disapproval. She wondered how on earth her brother could be attracted to such a … the word that came into her mind was óinseach, which described a foolish, giddy young woman. How could she become Colgú’s wife when she had no thought for anything other than pleasure?

‘So Colgú left Cashel before you?’ Eadulf interrupted her thoughts. ‘Did he expect you to leave as well? Or did your father decide to leave after he had left?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Anyway, it is good that you are here, lady.’ The girl was chattering on, oblivious of their serious expressions. ‘Maybe we can persuade Gelgéis to organise a feasting and entertainment? I heard there is a travelling band of gleemen in the township.’

Eadulf had to think before he was able to translate the word crossan as gleemen. Dúnliath caught his frown and said quickly: ‘I mean jugglers, buffoons and entertainers.’

‘Perhaps you should speak to Gelgéis about it.’ Fidelma forced an icy smile. ‘We have some serious matters to attend at the moment.’

Dúnliath pouted once more. Eadulf half expected her to stamp her foot. ‘Everyone, it seems, has serious matters to pursue. Does no one find time to enjoy themselves here? At Cashel there was always business that called Colgú away. As King he should instruct others to carry out his orders and not have to do things himself.’

‘Lady,’ it was Eadulf who spoke softly, ‘it is in the nature of kingship to be the servant of the people.’

‘A king is not a servant!’ The girl giggled as if he had made a joke. ‘You speak nonsense, Saxon.’

‘Angle,’ corrected Eadulf mildly, but the girl ignored him.

‘My father is Lord of Gabrán and this being so, people hurry to carry out his will. If they don’t, they know they will incur his displeasure.’

‘The sign of good kingship is wisdom and the ability not to ask of others what you cannot do yourself.’

‘A king may do what he pleases, Saxon,’ she said airily. ‘He is higher than the people and they must obey or be punished.’

Eadulf’s smile was fixed. ‘When I came to this country, I found a question in the law text known as the Crith Gablach. It asked: what makes a king higher than the people?’

‘And did you also find the answer?’

‘The answer was that it was because the people ordained the king and not the king who ordained the people.’

For a moment the girl stared at him in incomprehension. It was Fidelma who felt that she had to try to explain. ‘No one is above the law, Dúnliath, not even a king. A king is there because the people appointed him, and he can only remain king as long as he has their approval. He is there by the will of the people.’

The girl shrugged, saying, ‘I have no understanding of such things. But I find Brother Eadulf speaks in amusing fashion. In truth, you must come to a feasting and entertain me with tales of your strange land. You will be better entertainment than a simple gleeman.’

Eadulf looked outraged but Fidelma gave him a warning look.

‘We must be off,’ she said coolly. ‘Doubtless, we shall see you later.’

She turned and walked down the steps to the courtyard and Eadulf hurried after her. As they walked over the flags towards the area of the stables, he could not restrain himself.

‘It is not my place to criticise, but-’ he began.

Fidelma cut him short. ‘De gustibus non est disputandum,’ she said. The words literally meant ‘about tastes there is no disputing’. She felt a little guilty as she said it because it was her brother’s tastes to which she was referring.

Eadulf thought for a moment. ‘I suppose that it is better not to argue about matters of personal preference, but I have no understanding of the attraction apart from the physical.’

They came to the stables and found Ailill. The handsome young warrior hailed them with a broad smile.

‘Greetings, cousin Fidelma. I did not expect to find you here. When did you arrive?’

‘We have only just come,’ returned Fidelma. ‘I observe that you still travel with Drón and his retinue?’

‘You sound disapproving, cousin,’ the young man said. ‘But he was my fosterer and raised me as a warrior, and so I am beholden to him. I command his small bodyguard.’

‘I did not mean to sound critical of your motives. We do not seem to have had much time to get to know one another.’

‘Doubtless we shall see more of each other, cousin, after the Lady Dúnliath marries your brother.’

‘Doubtless,’ she echoed, trying to keep the lack of enthusiasm for such an event from her voice. ‘We are actually looking for Drón and were told that he was in the stables.’

‘He was here earlier but left.’

‘Do you know where he has gone?’

‘I regret I do not, cousin. But I do not think he has left the fortress. Perhaps he is resting in his chamber. Is there anything that I can help you with?’

Fidelma thought for a moment and then told him: ‘I was surprised that you left Cashel in case of attack from the band of raiders. You must know how strong the defences of Cashel are. I would think that it was the safest place in the kingdom. That was why it perplexes me, to see you here seeking shelter at Durlus.’

Ailill sighed. ‘If the truth were known, cousin, I think the suggestion came from Drón himself. I agree that we would have been safer in Cashel than here, but Drón seemed to get it into his head that there was some rebellion against Colgú. But, after all, what need we fear of a band of religious fanatics, raiders out of the Glen of Lunatics, led by a crazed old woman? However, Drón is a father and is fearful for his daughter’s safety …’

‘Lady!’ One of the guards from the gate came trotting up, apparently looking for her.

‘What is it?’ She turned, distracted for the moment.

‘A man has left an urgent message for you at the gate.’

‘A message — for me? Is he at the gate now?’

‘He left it a short time ago, lady.’

‘Why was I not informed before?’ she asked crossly.

The warrior flushed. ‘Because you were then with the Lady Gelgéis and I could not disturb you. It is only now that I was told you were in the stables.’

‘Very well,’ she said in a conciliatory tone. She glanced back to apologise to Ailill but found that he was already walking over towards the main buildings. She turned to the guard. ‘What is this message and who left it?’

‘The message was simple, but he made me repeat it. It was that you should go to the shed where you were left and meet with him. The man said that he would wait there until midday and no longer. You should go there by yourself if you wanted to learn the secret of Liath Mór. He emphasised that part — that you should come alone, otherwise you would learn nothing. Those were his words and beyond that I have no understanding of them.’

She was examining the guard carefully. His features were without guile. He had delivered the message woodenly as if reciting it by heart.

‘And did this man have a name or a description?’ she prompted.

‘He was man of medium height, clad in a long grey cloak and a cowl over his head that made any close description impossible.’

‘Had you seen this person before?’

‘Not to my knowledge, lady. That is all I know. Is something wrong? Should I report this matter to Spealáin, the steward?’

‘You have done your duty,’ she replied. ‘That will be all.’

‘This is a trap if ever I heard one,’ Eadulf said when the guard had returned to his position. ‘It is one of Cronán’s men.’

‘It could also be one of the daer-fuidir who has escaped with some information; although it does sound more like a trap. On balance, there is enough bait to make the chance worthwhile.’ Fidelma made her decision. ‘Come — let’s find Gormán,’ she said. ‘We shall go and meet this person, but on our own terms.’

Gormán was easily found, in a tavern at the corner of the market square.

‘What do you intend, lady?’ he asked after she had explained the situation.

‘You said that this shed was directly across the river, opposite the wooden quays of the town?’ Fidelma asked. ‘I am afraid I have little remembrance of such details when you rescued me.’

‘You are right, lady. That is probably why this man, whoever he is, has chosen the spot. From that shed he will see you coming across the river and will thereby ensure that you are alone.’

‘Is there any other place where I could cross unseen?’

It was Eadulf who pointed out that where they had recrossed the river and taken Fidelma back to Gobán’s forge, was at the south end of the town. Here, the river curved so that any boat crossing there would be obscured from the hut.

‘That settles it,’ she announced. ‘I shall get a boat and cross from the jetty directly to the hut. I shall be alone.’

‘Alone? That’s inviting trouble,’ Eadulf protested.

‘You two must already be across the river and come up on the hut through the trees that surround it,’ she said. ‘Then I shall cross. We do not want our friend to be able to slip away. Understood?’

‘How long will you give us to get into position before you cross?’ Gormán was ever the practical strategist.

‘I’ll wait on this side of the river until I hear two short blasts from your hunting horn, Gormán. Don’t sound it too near the huts so as to alarm our friend. I want him to think that you are just someone hunting in the forests beyond.’

The warrior agreed. As they rose to leave, Eadulf leaned forward and placed his hand on her arm. ‘For Alchú’s sake be careful, if not for mine.’

She looked back at him. ‘I’ll be careful for all our sakes, Eadulf,’ she replied solemnly.

It took Fidelma a while to explore the quays along the river of the township before she discovered a boatman who had a suitable little craft carved out of a single piece of oak. The owner made no fuss about letting her borrow it. She rowed downriver to the spot nearly opposite the collection of huts on the other bank and pretended to be checking something in the bottom of the boat. Thus she was able to delay until she heard the two short blasts from a horn somewhere in the woods behind the huts. Then she began to row across the river, judging its flow so that she was not swept too far downstream. She was near the bank, her eyes focused carefully on the huts, when it happened almost too quickly to follow.

As she neared the bank, the door flew open and a figure appeared. The man had a drawn bow in his hands and, had she not bent to take up the boat’s painter to make it fast, the arrow would have caught her full in the chest. As it was, it skimmed so low across her back that she could almost feel its passing. There was a cry as Gormán appeared suddenly at one side of the hut with Eadulf running up on the other side. The bowman, his grey robes flying, had taken in the situation in a moment and turned, running down the side of the hut. Eadulf tried to stop him but the bowman, using his bow as a weapon, struck out, causing the wood to crack into two pieces and Eadulf to stagger back and lose his footing from the impact of the blow. Then the bowman, with Gormán following, disappeared from sight.

Fidelma ran forward to help an embarrassed Eadulf to his feet. He was bruised by the blow but otherwise unhurt, and angry that he had been unable to stop the attacker. They heard the whinny of a horse and then the crashing of undergrowth. It was not long before Gormán returned, his expression furious.

‘He escaped?’ There was hardly any need for Fidelma to ask the question.

Gormán was clearly annoyed with himself. ‘He had a horse ready behind the hut and sprang on to it like a veteran warrior. He’ll be halfway back to Liath Mór by now. But I recognised him.’

‘You did? Who was it?’

‘The hood of his robe fell back and it was our friend Brother Sillán.’

Fidelma sighed deeply. ‘Well, at least that does not surprise me. But why try to assassinate me now? Cronán must know that I will have passed on the knowledge we gained and, if not I, then you would have shared that knowledge.’

‘Maybe Cronán wants revenge for the death of his nephew, Anfudán,’ offered Eadulf.

Fidelma turned to her companions. ‘Tonight I shall request permission to stay in the fortress. Now, Eadulf, I think we should have that word with Drón.’

She and Eadulf recrossed the river without incident. Gormán left them and went to take the other boat back and go to Gobán’s forge to collect his horse and their saddle-bags. The warrior who had given Fidelma the message from Sillán greeted her with an anxious look as they approached the gates of the fortress.

‘Did you see the messenger, lady?’ he asked nervously. ‘Is all well?’

‘I saw him,’ she confirmed with dry humour as she passed him. ‘However, he had to leave in a hurry but his message was clear enough.’

As they were crossing the Great Hall, Ailill was coming down the stairs from the guests’ quarters.

‘Are you looking for me, cousin?’ He greeted her with a smile.

‘I am still looking for your foster-father.’

‘I am sure that he is resting in his chamber.’

‘Do you know where that is?’

‘Up these stairs, turn to the right and his chamber is at the end of the passage. Shall I come with you?’

‘There is no need,’ she replied.

The young warrior raised a hand to his forehead in a vague salute and left them. They ascended the stairs and turned into the passage. Eadulf rapped sharply on the door at the far end. There was no answer, but some sound caught Eadulf’s ear.

‘There is someone in there,’ he said, raising his fist and hammering on the door. Moments passed without any answer so he grasped the ring-handle and twisted it. It opened easily and they stood on the threshold peering in. The room was well lit from a tall window.

Drón was lying on his back on the floor just under the open window. His chest was covered in blood, and blood was still bubbling from the side of his mouth. He was coughing a little. While there was no sign of a weapon, it was clear that he had been stabbed several times in the chest just below his breastbone. Fidelma stood back to allow Eadulf to kneel down at the man’s side. A cursory glance told Eadulf enough. He raised his face to Fidelma and shrugged eloquently.

‘He’s still alive, but …’

Fidelma bent down. ‘Drón, who did this to you?’

The pale eyes tried to focus but the effort was too much. Between coughing and choking on the blood, Drón strove to form words.

‘Too … too late,’ he managed to articulate. ‘Ét … Étain …’

Then blood spurted like a fountain from the corner of his mouth, and a strangled sound came from him as his body convulsed in its death throes. Then he lay still.

Eadulf’s expression was stern. ‘Do you think that Sillán has been here before us? He kills Drón and then attempts to kill you.’

Fidelma did not respond immediately. Instead she rose and walked to the chamber door and closed it. Then she walked back to the window and glanced out.

‘Sillán might have come to the gate to deliver his message for me, but he then went to ambush me on the far side of the river. This killing was but recently done. There was no way he could recross the river and accomplish this deed. This looks like the work of a separate hand.’

‘If so, it is surely a curious coincidence,’ replied Eadulf. ‘Anyway, we must inform Spealáin, the steward, at once.’

Fidelma put out her hand to stop him. ‘Did you hear his last words?’ she said.

‘I did. It was Étain. Wasn’t that the name of one of his wives?’

‘Ah, so it was,’ she said thoughtfully.

‘Maybe his last thoughts were of her?’

‘Maybe.’

‘At least we know that she did not kill him,’ added Eadulf as an attempt at dark humour.

Fidelma peered around the chamber. There was no sign that Drón had struggled with his assailant before receiving the fatal blow. Everything was neat and tidy; even the man’s bed had not been disturbed.

‘Go in search of the steward,’ she said finally. ‘I’ll see if I can find anything else here. The only thing we can be sure of is that the killer came in by the door. The window is too high above the ground outside. Oh, Eadulf, tell the steward to ask Gelgéis to break this news to Drón’s daughter.’ She frowned suddenly. ‘Her life might be in danger too. Spealáin should have a care for her welfare.’

‘That is, if Gelgéis and her household are not mixed up in this matter,’ Eadulf pointed out. ‘How can we trust anyone?’

‘You are right to remind me of that fact.’ Fidelma was serious. ‘I am convinced that many answers to our questions will be found here.’

‘Here and not Liath Mór?’ Eadulf was surprised.

‘Here,’ Fidelma repeated firmly. ‘Find Spealáin while I see if I can find anything that will help us.’

Eadulf hurried off on his errand.

Fidelma returned to the body and examined it carefully. All she could tell was that Drón had been facing his killer at the time when he had been stabbed. His dagger was still sheathed and there were no other weapons to hand. She noticed his sword standing in a corner near the bed. She went to look at it. It was obviously where he had placed it when he came to the room. It was now clear to her that he had let the killer come inside and there was no suspicion of any impending attack until the person struck. That indicated that he knew his killer. Nothing else provided any other clue at all. She went back to where the body lay under the window, feeling baffled and frustrated. Another mystery or part of the same mystery — and nothing to provide a link!

As she stood there, a sound came up through the open window. It was a soft footstep on the flagstones below.

She leaned out and glanced down into the small passage that ran under the window. A figure was moving quickly by. It took her only a moment to recognise the young man. She gave a gasp.

He heard the sound and turned, looking up to see where it came from. His eyes widened in astonishment as they met her own.

‘Torna!’ she exclaimed.