The Shapeshifter's Lair

by Peter Tremayne

  The next morning, after attending the Laudare, or Prima, the first service of the day, to make a point, Eadulf ate a sparse breakfast and went in search of the abbot. He found him in the herb garden, which seemed to be Abbot Daircell’s favourite spot. The abbot looked up from the bench on which he had been sitting.

  ‘Are you looking for me, Brother Eadulf?’

  ‘I wondered if I could ask of you a favour? I wanted to see your pigeon loft.’

  Abbot Daircell was surprised at the request. ‘Why would you want that?’

  ‘I have only recently discovered that you often use pigeons to carry messages,’ Eadulf explained disarmingly. ‘You seem to know much of this subject and I would learn something about the way it is done.’

  Abbot Daircell could not help the look of pride and enthusiasm that came into his features. He hastily composed himself.

  ‘I thought it was a common practice in most places,’ he replied. ‘I am told that the Persians taught the Greeks, and the Greeks taught the Romans, who then spread it to all parts of their empire.’

  ‘I have heard something of the history,’ Eadulf admitted, ‘but I did not know it was in use here until a short time ago.’

  ‘All the royal centres use it. The method is used in war as well as to convey important messages and therefore it is now adopted as a means of communication between important ecclesiastical centres …’

  ‘Such as this one?’

  Abbot Daircell pressed his lips in a grim line of self-satisfaction. ‘Especially this one. Although we are isolated we are still a centre to which many students come to learn the Faith. We are in touch with several other centres of the Faith. So I have made this a matter of practical interest.’

  ‘That is what surprised me, for I was told the species used to carry these messages were Rock Doves. Surely they live on the coast and therefore would not fly inland?’

  ‘As you will observe, the birds that we breed are able to fly across land.’

  ‘And so you train them yourself?’

  ‘I did initially. Then, when Brother Dorchú joined us, I found that he too had developed the art of training them.’

  ‘I am fascinated. It would be a privilege if you would take me to show your birds and how you can work this magic.’

  Abbot Daircell was nothing loath to escort Eadulf immediately.

  The pigeon loft was not the romantic place that Eadulf imagined it might be. The smell of the birds confined together with the accumulated excrement from the nesting or roosting birds was overpowering.

  Abbot Daircell saw his nose wrinkling and smiled. ‘After a while we soak the dried excrement and remove it to use it in my herb garden. It makes an excellent fertiliser.’

  Eadulf choked back a feeling of nausea and tried to concentrate on the task he had been given. He glanced round to check there was no one else within hearing.

  ‘What really intrigues me is how secure these birds are in carrying messages?’

  Abbot Daircell looked surprised. ‘Nothing is ever completely secure but I would maintain that they are secure enough for our abbey’s purposes.’

  ‘That’s just it. I was thinking about what you told us when we arrived. You had a message from Princess Gelgéis saying that she wanted to speak to you about intrigue in Osraige. She starts out for the abbey and her Brehon is killed and she disappears.’

  ‘So?’ The abbot appeared puzzled.

  ‘Could that message have fallen into the wrong hands and alerted those who then went to waylay her?’

  ‘Not unless she sent another message, which I did not get. The bird bringing her message arrived and was brought straight to me. That was how, when the body of Brehon Brocc was brought here, I knew something must have happened to her.’

  ‘You said the message was brought to you. By whom, and who else knew of this message?’

  ‘Brother Dorchú brought the message to me as soon as the bird arrived.’

  ‘Ah, yes. He more or less is in charge of the pigeon loft now. So he knew of the message?’

  ‘The message was in a small container. Even if he opened it and read it quickly, it would have been impossible to understand, for the message was in Latin but written in Ogham characters.’

  ‘But he could have read it?’ pressed Eadulf.

  ‘With respect to him, Brother Dorchú’s education is somewhat limited. He would not have had the ability to read it.’

  ‘So you are saying that no one could have known from that message that the princess was on her way here?’

  ‘No one.’

  ‘Who else knew about the message?’

  ‘I told Brother Eochaí when I sent him to Cashel to inform Colgú of my fears.’

  ‘No one else?’

  ‘No one.’

  Eadulf thought for a moment. ‘You say that Princess Gelgéis mentioned some intrigue in Osraige. You are her cousin and also from Durlus Éile. What did you make of that?’

  ‘You know the recent history of Osraige. You were with Fidelma in Durlus Éile when Crónán set up his coup. We also know that Tuaim Snámha and Fianamail, the King of Laigin, were involved in that plot. But they held back from commitment until Crónán was ready. I do not believe that the fanatics who claim to seek an independent Osraige are all gone away. Nor do I think that members of the ruling family of Laigin, the Uí Máil, have ceased their activities to involve Osraige in war.’

  ‘You think that is the ultimate aim?’ Eadulf tried to sound surprised but he knew it was a foregone conclusion.

  ‘I have heard that you have witnessed many attempts by the Uí Fidgente in the west to overthrow the Eóganacht. Both the Uí Fidgente and the Déisi would seize any opportunity to overthrow the rule of the Eóganacht.’

  ‘Surely this is all speculation. Are there any hard facts to indicate that Laigin is encouraging Tuaim Snámha to rise up again? He was lucky that he kept his warriors out of the conflict led by your cousin Crónán, but he still has to pay reparation on his cousin’s behalf. He must see that as an injustice?’

  ‘If you want my opinion, all that business about gold and silver being stolen from the lord of The Cuala’s mines is a cover. Dicuil Dóna is involved and such gold and silver leaving these mines is used to help Tuaim Snámha rebuild his army. I believe that Dicuil Dóna is the man behind this plot. He is not merely lord of The Cuala but uncle to King Fianamail, who is a powerful king himself.’

  It was with his mind filled by such speculations that Eadulf finally parted from the loquacious abbot.

  TWENTY-THREE

  That same morning, Fidelma was passing the cabin of Teimel. It was as if he had been waiting because his tall form emerged from the doorway at that moment, saw her and raised a hand in greeting. When Fidelma reined in her horse, he came forward with a feigned smile.

  ‘I did not see you yesterday, lady. Are you anywhere nearer to finding the missing Princess Gelgéis and her companion?’

  ‘The mystery is not resolved,’ Fidelma replied shortly without actually lying.

  ‘So you have discovered nothing?’ He paused but she made no comment. ‘It may be a mystery that will be unresolved?’ It was almost as if he were probing her to find out her suspicions. He glanced about with a slight frown. ‘Where are your companions today?’

  ‘They are tired of aimless searching,’ Fidelma replied diffidently. ‘Eadulf is with the abbot talking about pigeons. Apparently he is fascinated by the art of sending information by this means.’

  ‘But you are usually accompanied by Enda, your bodyguard.’

  ‘I believe he has taken himself off to do some fishing in one of the lakes. He likes to keep himself in practice.’

  Teimel looked at her speculatively. ‘I heard he was not at the abbey last night?’

  ‘Some fish are best caught at night,’ she replied.

  ‘Then it seems you have given up on your search?’

  ‘I suppose you may say that.’

  Teimel looked puzzled, as if trying to interpret he
r responses and attitude. ‘I thought the old saying of your profession was that you only give up when you have achieved your goal?’

  Fidelma grimaced sourly. ‘The older saying is that you give up when there is no more to be done. Anyway, I was going to see Beccnat to find out if there is any further information about smuggled gold and silver. Do you want to come with me?’

  Teimel smiled without humour. ‘I heard that you had an argument with her,’ he said artfully.

  ‘Did you now?’ Fidlema’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Yes, I heard it was over young Scáth, the steward of Dicuil Dóna. Several people know about the affair. This is a small township.’

  ‘So the township knows that the boy is her …?’

  ‘Her lover?’ Teimel chuckled. There was something lewd about his expression. ‘It is known, although no one here dares mention it. It is best that the news does not get back to his father, the lord of The Cuala. Anyway, do you still intend to fulfil Dicuil Dóna’s commission about his claim of theft from his mines?’

  Fidelma shrugged again. ‘After today, there is little time to pursue it. I have done all that I can. In two days at the most, I hope my companions and I will be heading back to Cashel.’

  ‘Won’t your failure cause problems with your brother? After all, it is well known that Princess Gelgéis was his betrothed.’

  ‘I think you may leave my brother’s response to me,’ Fidelma replied coldly.

  ‘I meant no offence, but it is a bad thing that has happened.’ Teimel tried to sound apologetic. ‘I just wondered if there were loose ends in your mind that needed clarification. For example, the body that we found at Lúbán.’

  Fidelma knew she had to be on her guard. ‘Obviously it was some traveller who found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. I would imagine there is no way we can be certain who he was.’

  ‘I know you are concerned with our missing Brehon Rónchú?’

  ‘I presume he will turn up after he has finished his circuit,’ she replied, trying to sound uninterested. ‘By the way, I will ensure your fees for your services are left with Abbot Daircell before I return to Cashel.’

  ‘Well, if you are sure you do not need my services further …?’

  Fidelma shook her head. ‘I am sure we will probably see one another before I depart.’ She raised a hand before he could answer and turned across the bridge into the main square of the township. Out of the corner of her eye, she was aware of him gazing as if in thought for some time before he turned back into his cabin.

  She spent the rest of the day somewhat bored as she moved aimlessly about the township, trying to avoid the impulse to go to Cétach’s cabin to ensure that all was well with Gelgéis and Spealáin. However, she had a feeling that eyes would be on her and she wanted to ensure she gave no clue to their hiding place. She talked to Síabair, the physician, but the subjects were of little consequence and she avoided the sort of questions that she really wanted to ask him. It seemed he had no suspicion or knowledge that she had spoken with Muirgel. There was certainly no sign of Beccnat, and for that she was quietly thankfully. She spent a little time with Serc, the prostitute. However, Serc could give no further details of the religieux who had raped her, which was something that Fidelma had been thinking about as a legal matter to reopen on the woman’s behalf.

  The day was a long one and, when she met up with Eadulf before the evening meal at the abbey, both felt it had been the most exhausting day they had ever spent. However, Fidelma thought they should have lulled their opponents into a false sense of security.

  Eadulf seemed curiously happy.

  ‘I think I have worked it out,’ he announced when they were alone.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘We have now learnt there is a conspiracy to replace the ruler of Osraige. Only a member of the family can hope to succeed. Therefore whoever the successor is must be a relative recognised by the derbfine. The most likely person is the abbot himself. He has the contacts, especially with Dicuil Dóna. As a prince of the Uí Máil Dicuil Dóna can afford to raise warriors to help establish Daircell as ruler in Osraige.’

  Fidelma pursed her lips thoughtfully. ‘And the theft of the gold and silver from his mines? Surely he would need that to pay his warriors and equip them?’

  ‘Well, remember a solution we previously dismissed? He is robbing himself so that he does not have to account for it to his nephew, King Fianamail.’

  ‘So this conspiracy is happening without Fianamail’s knowledge? Well, I think you are right on that point.’

  Eadulf felt pleased. ‘So you agree that Abbot Daircell is behind this, seeking to make himself ruler of Osraige?’

  Fidelma sighed. ‘I am hoping we shall be able to reveal everything tomorrow. But remember, I think it was Cicero who wrote, “manifestum est recta solutio semper”. The obvious is not always the right solution.’

  Next morning, there was no sign of Enda returning. There was only a faint light tinge to the low, grey clouds when Fidelma and Eadulf took their horses and rode towards Láithreach. Before they reached the settlement, Fidelma took a route through the woods that circumnavigated the township, coming on Cétach’s cabin from the rear. They could see the horses they had taken from the guards at the abandoned mine still loose in the small fenced area behind the cabin. Fidelma paused for a moment and looked cautiously around. Then she glanced at Eadulf.

  ‘Well, so far so good,’ she said, before turning to lead the way down the hill to the fenced area. As they dismounted, she called: ‘Gelgéis! Spealáin! It is Fidelma and Eadulf. Is all well?’

  The door of the cabin opened and Spealáin came out, looking relieved as he recognised them.

  ‘We heard you coming … the noise of your horses approaching. Anyway, all is well with us.’

  Gelgéis emerged behind him, but her face was not as relaxed as her steward’s was.

  ‘All is not well with me. I am cold, hungry for hot food and a bed that is not damp and lice inhabited. I do not wish to hear the noises of animals and vermin nearby, keeping me awake through the night. I am even ready to swap this rotting cabin for the warmth of that abandoned mine.’

  Fidelma smiled thinly. ‘Well, we have brought some better food and some good honey mead. More than that we cannot do at the moment.’

  They entered the darkened cabin.

  ‘I hope it will not be long now before we are able to leave,’ Fidelma assured her. ‘Meantime we have to make the best of it.’

  Princess Gelgéis gestured with distaste to their surroundings. ‘You are not serious, Fidelma, are you? We have to make the best of it? You and Eadulf are living in luxury by comparison in the abbey’s guest rooms and you tell us that we have to make the best of it? How long do you expect that we make the best of it?’ There was not bitterness but just irony in the girl’s voice.

  ‘If Enda is not back by this evening then we shall all have to find a better place to hide.’

  ‘After last night I would rather have spent the time in a pigsty under the stars,’ Spealáin declared quietly. ‘We cannot stay here another night.’

  ‘If Enda does not return with help, then we will have no option but to depart very quickly because all our lives might be in danger,’ Fidelma said simply.

  Princess Gelgéis was clearly perturbed.

  ‘Let me go to my cousin Daircell and demand sanctuary at the abbey. I don’t believe he is responsible for any of this.’

  Eadulf glanced at Fidelma and said, ‘I don’t think we would advise that. All I ask is that you and Spealáin remain here patiently.’ Then to distract them from their discomfort he asked Gelgéis: ‘Have you considered anything more about members of your family?’

  ‘Maybe we are wrong and it is a plot in which Tuaim Snámha himself is manipulating things. He is more likely to be behind any conspiracy to launch an attack against Cashel,’ Spealáin said. ‘He played a role in the last conspiracy.’

  ‘It was never proved,’ asserted Gelgéis. ‘The infor
mation we had was that he refused to cooperate with the emissaries from Laigin.’

  ‘And the information now says warriors are being trained and paid in readiness. Anyway, lady, your cousin Daircell is not to be so lightly dismissed as a suspect. He has personal contacts among the Uí Máil nobility. He could certainly be at the centre of a new conspiracy,’ said Spealáin.

  ‘This is true,’ Eadulf agreed enthusiastically. He wondered if Fidelma would let him come outright with his conclusions.

  ‘More importantly,’ Spealáin added, supporting him, ‘if there was a plot to overthrow Tuaim Snámha, what better lure is there than the abbot bring the princess into his territory, have her captured and forced to be leader of a new regime in Osraige? The people of Osraige love Gelgéis and would gladly follow her.’

  Gelgéis was unconvinced. ‘I don’t believe that Daircell could be responsible.’

  ‘You also believed that Tuaim Snámha would not jeopardise his principality, especially since his cousin Crónán nearly brought it to disaster,’ her steward pointed out. ‘I am sure he would like to see Osraige influential again. He was cautious last time and did not commit himself, letting his cousin play the major part. That is why he has survived as ruler of Osraige for over ten years. What is to prevent him working a similar conspiracy?’

  ‘Well, these speculations can only be revealed in an airecht,’ Fidelma pointed out firmly, trying to seek to end the escalating argument.

  ‘Airecht – a legal hearing?’ Princess Gelgéis asked cynically. ‘How do you plan to hold such a hearing while we are freezing in this disgusting cabin?’

  ‘I won’t be able to make the demand until Enda returns. That is why you must be careful and remain here.’

  ‘But you have refused to tell us where Enda has gone,’ Eadulf pointed out bitterly.

  ‘You will find out soon enough – one way or the other.’

  The time passed uncomfortably and it was mid-afternoon when Fidelma became restless. It was clear she was anxious for Enda’s return. Finally she reminded them: ‘We must give him until nightfall. If he has not returned by then, we must move to another refuge.’