Fidelma had never had dealings with the northern Uí Néill kingdom. She only knew that Ailech was a fortress city in the extreme north-west of the country where the king was currently Mael Dúin, who also claimed descent from the great High King, Niall of the Nine Hostages.
‘Your man said that the torc was made in Ailech,’ she observed quietly.
Ibor nodded.
‘There is little love lost between the two dynasties of the Uí Néill, northern and southern,’ he explained. ‘Mael Dúin is not the first king of the northern Uí Néill line to argue that his dynasty are the true heirs of the kingship of all the north, and not only the kingship of Ulaidh but he claims the right to the High Kingship at Tara. He further claims that the High Kingship should not be a matter of conferred honour among the provincial kings but a reality and that the High King should have a real power over all the five kingdoms of Éireann.’
Fidelma examined him suspiciously.
‘And what does Sechnassuch say to this?’
‘You have met Sechnassuch,’ Ibor replied. ‘His principle is the law. He is king of the southern Uí Néill of Tara and acknowledges the courtesy accorded by the laws of the Míadslechta of being High King. But as the Míadslechta says – why are the provincial kings greater than the High King?’
‘Because they appoint and ordain the High King,’ interrupted Fidelma quoting the text, ‘the High King does not ordain the provincial kings.’
Ibor nodded appreciatively at her knowledge.
‘You are correct, dálaigh of Cashel. Sechnassuch would give his entire honour price of fourteen cumals in forfeit if he ever broke this law.’
‘Is there any likelihood of him doing so?’
‘Not while he is alive. But this cannot be said of the northern Uí Néill; nor of Mael Dúin of Ailech. He has ambition. And that ambition has grown since he went on a pilgrimage to Rome before he took the crown of Ailech.’
‘How so? What has a pilgrimage to Rome to do with this matter?’
‘He saw the greatness of Rome and became enamoured of the Roman path of the Faith. He went to a Roman-trained confessor and priest who taught him about the great temporal empires and the peoples who fell under the suzerainty of the emperors of Rome.’
‘There are several in the five kingdoms who have already accepted allegiance to Rome,’ observed Fidelma. ‘Allegiance to Rome is surely a matter of individual conscience? My companion, Eadulf, bears allegiance to the Roman ways, unlike myself being committed to the Church of Colmcille. We do not fight but we discuss in fruitful amity.’
‘Fair enough, Fidelma of Cashel. Each to his own path. But when one is forced along a path one does not wish to take, then there is dissension in the land.’
‘This Mael Dúin believes, then, in forcing his beliefs on others?’
‘That he does. And he does so in two ways. Firstly with his religion and secondly he has been fired to create in this island the feudal empire of the type which he has learned about in Rome, a central kingdom ruled by one emperor. And he wants that emperor to be himself.’
Fidelma let out a soft breath.
‘I begin to see where you are leading us. Mael Dúin of Ailech wishes to firstly subsume the southern Uí Néill to his kingdom of Ailech. Then he wishes to claim the High Kingship and turn it from an honour alternated between the provincial kings into a single dynasty which will maintain a supreme authority over all of the five kingdoms in the manner of the Roman emperors?’
‘That is exactly what he proposes,’ confirmed Ibor.
‘Then the kings of the provinces must be warned against Mael Dúin’s ambitions. They would never stand for such a usurpation of law and morality.’
‘But there is something further.’
‘What more can there be?’ Fidelma’s expression was grim.
‘Mael Dúin has, as I say, won the support of Ultan of Armagh.’
‘I knew that Ultan has long been in favour of adopting the rules of Rome in our Church and prefers to use the title of archiepiskopos instead of Comarb. Indeed, many have, out of courtesy referred to him as such. Even I myself. I know he would wish to reorganise our Church on the model Rome has provided but not even Ultan can believe that he can change our law of kingship.’
‘Why not? If Mael Dúin of Ailech thinks he can, so can Ultan. If Mael Dúin can create a powerful High Kingship at Tara which favours Roman rite and organisation, then Armagh will also prosper being within the puruchia of the High King. Ultan plans to become the head of the Faith in Ireland just as Mael Dúin plans to become a High King with real central power.’
Fidelma was troubled as she contemplated the enormity of Ibor’s revelation.
‘This explains much of what Brother Solin was boasting about. So then Ultan will use the powerful centralised authority of Mael Dúin to exert the authority of Armagh over all other Churches of the five kingdoms?’
‘Just so.’
Eadulf intervened for the first time.
‘One thing you forget,’ he said quietly. ‘Even if this king of Ailech overcomes the southern Uí Néill, he could not be in power in Tara for long. Cashel, supported by Imleach, would be among the first to challenge such preposterous claims.’
Ibor glanced at him almost sadly.
‘So therefore Imleach and Cashel would have to be made weak,’ he pointed out.
Fidelma jerked her head up quickly; her flashing eyes sought those of Ibor.
‘You have news of such a plot?’
‘The plot has already begun here in Gleann Geis,’ he replied. ‘It is Mael Dúin and Ultan who are behind it. If the northern Uí Néill move in force then the southern Uí Néill might not long delay them. There are too many ties of kinship and blood for a serious contention between Mael Dúin and Sechnassuch. Once that happens …’ Ibor threw out his arms in a gesture of resignation.
‘But Cashel would not allow it to happen,’ Fidelma vowed. ‘Wishing Cashel to be weak does not make it so.’
‘True. It has to be made so. Cashel represents the biggest barrier to the northern Uí Néill’s ambition to take over the High Kingship. Mael Dúin has been probing for Cashel’s weakness for a while now. And where is Cashel’s greatest weakness?’
Fidelma paused for a moment’s reflection.
‘Why, among the Uí Fidgente in north-west Muman,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘And among the clans west of the Shannon. They have been the most restless clans of Muman. The Uí Fidgente have tried many times to overthrow the kings of Cashel and split the kingdom.’
‘There is the weakness of Muman – the Uí Fidgente,’ Ibor declared like a schoolmaster summing up his lesson.
‘So Brother Solin was sent here to create new dissensions between the Uí Fidgente and the Eóghanacht of Cashel? Is that what you are saying?’ Eadulf asked.
‘He was sent as Ultan’s agent and through Ultan as an emissary of Mael Dúin.’
‘And why were you sent here? To kill Brother Solin?’
‘No. I told you that I had no hand in his death. I did not kill him. But I was sent to discover the details of Mael Dúin’s plot.’
Fidelma was finding difficulty encompassing the fiendishness of what the lord of Muirthemne was revealing. She looked at Ibor directly.
‘What of the slaughter of the young men? The ritual killing?’
‘You have a reputation for working out puzzles. You came as an emissary from Cashel and Imleach and stumbled across what you thought to be a ritual killing. Who would stand to gain had you reacted as you were supposed to react?’
She stared at him in incomprehension for a moment.
‘How was I supposed to react?’ she asked uncertainly.
‘Those responsible for the slaughter simply knew that a religieuse was due to arrive at Gleann Geis. The ritual slaughter was arranged by them in the belief that such a religieuse would understand the pagan symbolism in it and then see nothing further.’
Fidelma began to understand.
‘They thought that th
e religieuse would panic and go riding back to Cashel and call for a religious war to exterminate the barbarians of Gleann Geis for having perpetrated such a crime?’
‘Exactly so,’ Ibor agreed. ‘Cashel would come down with all its might and fury on Gleann Geis to seek retribution. Gleann Geis would be protesting its innocence and indeed some evidence would be placed in the hands of the friends of Gleann Geis to indicate that it was Cashel’s own hand in the slaughter. The surrounding clans would be told that Cashel was the evil doer and had used the slaughter as a justification to annihilate Gleann Geis. Indignant, the clans would also rise up in support of Gleann Geis. The Uí Fidgente would be persuaded, and not with difficulty, to also rise once more against Cashel. Civil war would split the land.’
‘But most clans in this kingdom would support Cashel,’ Eadulf pointed out.
‘Possibly. But the northern Uí Néill, expressing themselves appalled by such acts,’ went on Ibor, ‘would then encourage and supply its allies to march on Cashel. Once Cashel had been destroyed, Mael Dúin would begin the process of obtaining the High Kingship and exert its will over all the kingdoms. With the Eóghanacht of Cashel destroyed, there would be no one to challenge the Uí Néill.’
Fidelma was incredulous. But she realised the grim logic of what Ibor was saying.
‘And all this might well have happened,’ she murmured.
She did not have to glance at Eadulf to make the Saxon feel uncomfortable. The Saxon lowered his head when he remembered his advice to her on the finding of the bodies and the realisation of what they symbolised. He had a feeling of growing horror.
‘Do I understand you correctly?’ he asked Ibor. ‘The slaughter of those thirty-three young men was carried out for no more reason than for our benefit? That it was a grotesque charade the purpose of which was to make us return in panic to Cashel and call for a holy war against the pagans of Gleann Geis?’
Ibor regarded the Saxon with some solemn amusement.
‘That is precisely what I have explained.’
‘And these sons of Satan were watching us all the time,’ Eadulf muttered reflectively. ‘Do you remember,’ he turned to Fidelma, ‘that we saw the sun flash on metal as we climbed to that valley? We were being watched. They must have watched our approach and knowing the path by which we were entering Gleann Geis they then arranged their terrible show along the course which we were taking, assured that we would see the bodies.’
Ibor of Muirthemne smiled grimly at Fidelma.
‘A war such as they planned might have happened had you reacted in the manner that was expected of you. But, God be praised, you did not. You kept your head and went on into Gleann Geis in search of the truth.’
There was a silence as they reflected on the quirk of fate which had prevented this carefully laid plot from coming to its hoped for fruition.
‘Sechnassuch once told me that you were an individualist, Fidelma,’ Ibor continued appreciatively. ‘Sechnassuch claimed that you were a rebel against the conservative ways of doing things.’
‘It was a plot that was well thought out,’ she admitted. ‘But, Ibor, you have not told us who was responsible for that slaughter?’
Ibor replied without hesitation.
‘Warriors from Ailech itself. Chosen men from Mael Dúin’s own bodyguard, with sworn allegiance to him and no one else.’
‘Did you witness this slaughter?’ demanded Eadulf.
‘No; we did not witness it otherwise we would have done our best to prevent it,’ Ibor replied quietly.
‘How then do you know that it was men of Ailech who did the deed?’ pressed Eadulf.
‘Easy enough. Our small band, there are twenty warriors and myself, were following Brother Solin and Brother Dianach. We knew that they would lead us to the substance of Mael Dúin’s plot. We followed them from Armagh on their journey south for many days. Then Brother Solin met up with a strange cavalcade. There was a band of warriors from Ailech. They were escorting the column of prisoners. Each man of them was …’
‘Shackled in leg-irons?’ interrupted Fidelma.
‘How did you know?’ Ibor asked. ‘I saw the bodies after the slaughter and the men of Ailech had removed all signs of identification; leg-irons, clothes, anything which might have identified the perpetrators of the deed.’
‘I saw the chaffing and scars left by the irons on the ankles of the slaughtered. I also saw the soles of their feet. They were covered with blisters and abrasions. That told me that the men had been forced to walk a long distance.’
The lord of Muirthemne did not seem astonished by her deductions.
‘They had, indeed, marched all the way from Ailech. May the place now be cursed. They must have been special hostages rounded up by the tyrant, Mael Dúin, and marched south specifically for the purpose of this appalling crime. With the warriors were men on foot controlling several large hounds, presumably as a precaution against escape. An interesting thing, which puzzled me at the time, was that this strange procession was followed by two empty carts, large farm carts used for transporting hay.’
‘Ah yes.’ Fidelma nodded. ‘The carts. I would have expected them to be there. What exactly happened at this rendezvous which you witnessed?’
‘Brother Solin and the commander of warriors from Ailech greeted each other in friendly fashion and they camped together for a day before Solin continued on with Brother Dianach …’
‘Did you identify the commander of these warriors?’ interrupted Eadulf.
‘Not by name, although I do not doubt that we will find him in Mael Dúin’s shadow. One person with these warriors I can tell you more about …’
He paused, obviously to make a better impact but when he saw Fidelma’s irritation he hurried on.
‘There was a woman who rode into their camp. She was obviously expected and greeted with courtesy. I have seen such a woman in Gleann Geis. A slender woman of commanding appearance.’
Fidelma raised her head with a satisfied smile.
‘Was it Orla, sister of Laisre?’
‘I can think of no other woman in Gleann Geis who bears resemblance to the person I saw meeting with the men of Ailech and with Brother Solin,’ replied Ibor gravely.
Chapter Seventeen
‘Orla!’ breathed Fidelma in satisfaction. ‘I was sure that it was her who I saw outside the stable.’
‘Let me be absolutely correct,’ Ibor hastened to add. ‘I could not swear to the fact that it was Orla meeting with Solin and the men of Ailech. We were spying on this scene from a distance, don’t forget. I did not know Orla at that time. But I saw no one else at Gleann Geis who had the same style of dress and authority of command as the woman I saw. One interesting fact I should point out. There was a disturbance during this meeting. It seemed that one of the hostages had managed to escape. The men with the dogs made ready to hunt him down and the woman spoke with their leader. It appeared that she requested to lead the hunt herself, for the next moment she set off on horseback with three huntsmen and their hounds.’
‘Did you try to rescue the escaped prisoner?’ Eadulf asked.
Ibor shrugged resignedly.
‘It was impossible without betraying our presence. It was only a matter of an hour before he was caught and brought back again. It was then that we noticed that he was a priest because he wore a tonsure. The possible fate of the shackled men did not cross my mind at that time otherwise we would have attempted to rescue them all. I was more concerned with following Solin and, to my shame, I left them to their fate not realising what horror would later be perpetrated against them.’
‘Indeed, no one would have guessed the terrible slaughter that was about to take place,’ Fidelma reassured him. ‘There is no blame on you. What did you do then?’
‘It had hardly taken her any time to track the poor hostage down. After the woman returned to the encampment, she spoke a while and then left with Brother Solin and Brother Dianach and two warriors of Ailech. They rode for Gleann Geis.
‘Brother Solin and Brother Dianach went directly through the gorge but the woman did not do so. With the two warriors from Ailech she went across the valley to the point where the bodies were later placed. It could be that the woman showed the warriors the place. These warriors rejoined the rest of their company while the woman vanished into the hills.’
‘That is a pity,’ Fidelma sighed.
‘What?’
‘That is a pity,’ repeated Fidelma. ‘A pity the woman did not enter Gleann Geis with Solin and Dianach.’
‘Why so?’
‘Because we could have easily confirmed that this was Orla by finding out, from the sentinels, who it was that escorted Solin and Dianach into the glen.’
‘I was wondering why Brother Solin had gone on into Gleann Geis,’ went on Ibor, ‘not yet having worked out all the permutations of the plot. Pondering this, my men and I found this hiding place and decided to make it our base until we could discover more details. Then two things happened.’
‘What?’
‘Firstly, while we were hiding in the hills, my scouts reported that the warriors of Ailech had slaughtered the hostages. The slaughter had been done in the shallows of a stream back in the hills, presumably to hide the deed for the water would have dispersed the blood. By the time my scouts alerted me, the bodies had been stripped, placed on carts and taken across the glen – as I say, to the spot where the woman had previously accompanied the two others. We were about to follow them when we observed the empty carts returning with the warriors of Ailech. There were no bodies. We saw that one cart was piled with the bloodied clothes of the victims. Then both carts proceeded northward with their escort.’
He passed his hand over his mouth distastefully as he remembered the scene.
‘Go on,’ urged Eadulf, intrigued by the horror.
‘Then my scouts reported your arrival on the plain and that you had halted where the bodies had, as my scouts reported, been dumped. After a while, from our vantage point in the hills, we saw you and Brother Eadulf crossing the plain and then being greeted by a band of warriors with a woman at their head. By her appearance, it was the same woman who had met Mael Dúin’s warriors earlier.’
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