‘I was investigating the murder of Abbot Nessán, as you instructed,’ the young man explained. ‘I thought the girl, Cairenn, had killed him and then escaped from the abbey. You left the matter in my hands.’
‘I did,’ Fidelma acknowledged solemnly.
‘Well, the girl was totally innocent.’
Fidelma allowed a pause rather than say that she had thought as much from the beginning. Instead she said: ‘I understand that you were looking for the tall religieux who was at the abbey? How did you work out that this man killed the abbot?’
The young man shrugged. ‘With no great thought on my part, I am afraid. I eventually learnt that the man who had come to the abbey disguised as a religieux and left just after the murder was, in reality, Fínsnechta mac Dúchado of the Síl nÁedo Sláine and first cousin to the High King. I did not know this until I had followed the girl all the way to Ard Nemed. Having found out who he was, I set off to track him and followed him to this territory. I had just missed him at the River of Noise. That warrior,’ he nodded at Petrán, ‘met me there while I was in pursuit of him.’
‘So how did you know Fínsnechta was really the guilty one and Cairenn was innocent?’ Eadulf rephrased Fidelma’s question.
‘It was part of a conspiracy. Cairenn was to be blamed for the murder to ensure she did not leave the abbey. Some of Fínsnechta’s hirelings were left to guard the likely roads she would take from the abbey if she did escape and to make sure she did not complete her journey. They thought she would take the main road east to meet up with Grella.’
‘How are you so sure of this?’ Fidelma demanded. ‘When it was thought she was guilty, you supposed she would head west to seek sanctuary with her family.’
‘After you had left the abbey, the trackers that we hired reported that Cairenn had gone east. I set out to follow and came to the Great Island. Prince Artgal told me Cairenn had been there but insisted on her innocence. He also said that you had stayed with him and were in pursuit of her, too. The important matter for me was that he had some Uí Liatháin prisoners, one of which was a northern mercenary whom he had been questioning. The man admitted that he had been hired by the northern prince Fínsnechta.’
‘I remember Artgal saying one of his prisoners was from the north,’ Fidelma recalled with a frown.
‘Artgal allowed me to interrogate him. The prisoner was talkative, hoping to negotiate a better future than that he was facing. He said he was hired by Fínsnechta to waylay Cairenn if she came into his hands. Fínsnechta wanted the girl to be eliminated. The prisoner said he was given a seal to identify himself among Fínsnechta’s band.’
‘And the seal was a female figure with a solar wheel on her right shoulder?’ pressed Fidelma.
Oengarb allowed a momentary look of surprise to cross his face before he acknowledged she was correct.
Eadulf breathed out deeply. ‘So the solution was there all the time … had we stayed and questioned those prisoners at Artgal’s fortress we might have known it earlier!’
Fidelma shook her head ruefully. ‘It never occurred to me to question Artgal’s prisoners. Anyway, we would have had only an isolated part of the story.’
‘An important part,’ Eadulf observed quietly.
Éladach was examining Fidelma keenly. ‘And you now have the entire story, Fidelma?’
‘I will put it together for you,’ she said, drawing an irritable look from Eadulf. ‘It is a very complex and sad story. Let us first remember that Cenn Fáelad is in an unenviable position. He became High King after the murder of his brother Sechnussach. There are factions in his family that wanted the High Kingship for themselves – and none more so than his first cousin, Fínsnechta. He coveted Cenn Fáelad’s power and status.’ She paused. ‘We must also remember that Grella was of the Uí Liatháin and knew this territory, being a cousin to you, Éladach, as well as to Glaisne and Antri.’
Éladach impatiently waved for her to continue.
‘The idea of how to overthrow his cousin came to Fínsnechta while observing the behaviour of Grella at Tara. The fact was that Grella enjoyed the social life there whereas Cenn Fáelad did not. She enjoyed the feasting, the songs and dances, and especially the company of the foreigners … and she found one Saxon prince particularly attractive: Aescwine of the Gewisse.
‘Had we but known it, Fínsnechta was probably involved in the conspiracy to murder Cenn Fáelad’s brother Sechnussach – you’ll remember that Eadulf and I were instrumental in solving that mystery. Fínsnechta now came up with a more subtle plot to overthrow the High King. He knew that Grella was having an affair with Aescwine – I concede it was probably more intense than just an affair. Fínsnechta put a proposition to her. We cannot know how willing she was to be involved in the overthrow of her husband. Perhaps Fínsnechta threatened to reveal her affair. Anyway, she made accusations to her husband about an Eóganacht plot, using Abbot Nessán as a source of authority. Fínsnechta’s idea was to have Nessán killed to authenticate this. But who could get close enough to the old abbot to do it …’
‘Cairenn?’ finished Eadulf.
‘Cairenn was an Eóganacht Raithlind. She was a useful person to take the blame on that account. She realised she was being used as a cat’s paw and was clever enough to escape after Fínsnechta had killed the abbot. She had been meant to be identified as an agent of her people, which would have caused dissent between the Uí Néill and Eóganacht … even warfare.
‘Grella told her husband she had gone to get the proof of the conspiracy and that she would stay with her family.’
Éladach was following Fidelma’s exposition thoughtfully. ‘I am not sure why Antrí went through this charade of being an abbot?’
‘Grella had made the excuse to her husband that she was going to stay with Antrí, whom she pretended was abbot of a newly revitalised community at Cluain. I suspect Antrí’s services were bought rather than having a political motive. That seems to fit his character. She was to hide there while she was supposedly, with Cairenn’s help, gathering details of the plot against her husband. She was actually expecting to hear that Nessán was dead and Cairenn killed or a prisoner. The reality was she was awaiting the arrival of Aescwine’s ship and was ready to be taken on board. She and Aescwine were to sail to his country, the land of the Gewisse, while the Five Kingdoms erupted in a war caused by the accusations and counter-accusations created by Fínsnechta with Grella’s help. Fínsnechta and his followers – that gold seal was the symbol of the conspirators, as Oengarb identified – would have remained behind to continue to foment the idea that the Eóganacht, perhaps led by my brother, were involved in a plot to assassinate the High King and claim the throne, and they would be blamed for Grella’s so-called abduction. That was why the Saxon ship took Grella on board here in my brother’s kingdom rather than off the coast nearer Tara. A war between the Eóganacht and Uí Néill was essential – whether he won or lost, the High King would be denounced as a weak ruler to have allowed it to happen and be deposed by his nearest rival: Fínsnechta.’
She paused for a moment while they digested this, then added: ‘But once we knew of Fínsnechta’s involvement, he had no alternative than to join Grella and Aescwine and flee with them.’
Éladach sighed. ‘I can follow it all, Fidelma, except how did my brother, Glaisne, become involved?’
‘Cinniud,’ she said simply.
Eadulf was puzzled, not sure of the meaning of the word.
‘Destiny, fate,’ Fidelma explained. ‘Fínsnechta’s cleverness backfired. Not really trusting Antrí, he thought to involve Glaisne in case things went wrong. Glaisne, equally corrupt, saw his chance to benefit either way – whether the conspiracy failed or succeeded. So he killed Antrí’s men and took charge of Grella. If the plot did not work, then he could claim to have saved Grella from abduction. If it did work, then he would achieve wealth and position as a friend of the new High King. And again, destiny lent a hand because Antrí managed to escape Glaisne’s massacre
.’
‘It’s complicated,’ admitted Éladach.
‘And, I’m afraid, you made it more so,’ Fidelma told him solemnly. ‘You obviously heard what had happened to Antrí at Cluain but thought your brother, Glaisne, had abducted Grella and that she was entirely innocent. You are loyal to the High King, so you went to Eochaill to rescue her. During your rescue mission, your brother was killed. You then brought Grella here, thinking that it was to protect her. In fact, Aescwine arrived at Eochaill to pick her up as arranged, Fínsnechta arrived here, and tricked you into releasing Grella to his care. The rest Petrán has told you.’
Éladach sat shaking his head as he tried to come to terms with the conspiracy.
‘And you are saying that the purpose of it all was for Cenn Fáelad to believe that his wife had been abducted? The High King would have been fed with the story it was an Eóganacht conspiracy and would therefore march on Cashel to seek retribution from Colgú. And even if Cenn Fáelad was victorious, he would still be seen as a weak ruler?’
‘Defeat of my brother would not have been a foregone conclusion,’ Fidelma pointed out with some asperity. ‘You might remember that when the High King Cormac mac Art invaded the Eóganacht kingdom some centuries ago, the King, Fiachra Muillethain, and his army faced Cormac at Cnoc Luinge – the Hill of Ships – and drove them back to Tara, causing the High King to submit, apologise and offer compensation. That could happen again. But either way, Cenn Fáelad would be made to seem a weak and unworthy king. Fínsnechta would find more enthusiastic allies among the Uí Néill. Complicated … but thankfully we have a good witness in Antrí – he is no fanatic and will quickly reveal his part to avoid the High King’s wrath.’
Oengarb cleared his throat to attract attention. ‘There is the warrior that Prince Artgal took as a prisoner on the Great Island and whom I questioned. He is also a witness.’
Fidelma smiled. ‘That is true. We have his witness of Fínsnechta’s involvement in trying to blame or eliminate Cairenn as well as her own testimony.’
There was a silence and then Eadulf sighed.
‘The Uí Néill,’ he said with a shake of his head. ‘With a family like that, who needs to find enemies?’
Éladach was quiet, considering the case that Fidelma had put forward.
‘Are you saying there is nothing else to do now? Fínsnechta and Grella have sailed safely off to the land of the Saxons with this Prince Aescwine?’
‘There is nothing else we can do,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘All I can do is send my report to the High King and the Chief Brehon of the Five Kingdoms.’
‘Then it means that we have lost,’ pointed out Oengarb dolefully. ‘The law has lost to this conspiracy.’
Fidelma smiled thinly. ‘Not exactly. Truth has won by being revealed. It seems, for the time being, the perpetrators have escaped punishment, that is all.’
A week later, Eadulf entered their chamber in Cashel and saw Fidelma sitting before the crackling log fire, sipping a glass of mulled wine. She glanced up with a smile as he entered.
‘I hear that there was a messenger arrived from Tara to see your brother today,’ he announced, throwing off his riding cloak and moving to the fire, rubbing his hands before the flames. ‘Has Cenn Fáelad made a decision on the matter?’
‘The matter of Grella?’ she asked. ‘He has. I have just been discussing it with Colgú. The details of the matter are, of course, to be kept secret.’
Eadulf abandoned the fire and sank into a chair opposite her. ‘Don’t tell me that everyone has been placed under a sacred oath … what was it, a geis? I thought we had had enough of such things?’
Fidelma actually laughed. ‘You need not worry about any sacred oath. It is just that we should be frugal with the facts of the case.’
‘I presume that Cenn Fáelad will divorce Grella?’
Fidelma made an affirmative gesture. ‘He has and that is the minimum that he could do in the circumstances. Grella, under law, is now regarded as one who has fled from her marriage contract without cause and thus has no protection under the law. She loses her honour price, her property and her standing in our society.’
‘So that is an end to it? She has now fled this island and gone with her lover to the land of the Gewisse. No one will follow her, nor will they demand compensation.’
‘No one will bother to exact justice. Compensation will be paid from her confiscated property and if that is not enough, from her relatives. Éladach is absolved from any part he played in the death of his brother. He is obviously considered the senior prince of the southern Uí Liatháin. However, he has already refused the title, preferring to consecrate the abbey at Cluain, establishing it to follow his concept of the rites of the Eastern Church. He cites the authority of the Bishop of Constantinople, claiming the Church there is of purer lineage than Rome.’
Eadulf sniffed disapprovingly. He hesitated for a few moments before saying: ‘Grella would have been executed among the Angles and the Saxons. She would have been executed in the most extreme manner, as an example that fidelity in marriage is sacrosanct.’
‘Not that conspiracy to assassinate a king is a crime unless it fails?’ Fidelma observed cynically. ‘Well, our law, as you know, is always concerned to protect women, and their children. There is no framework for physically punishing women even if they do wrong. We have seven legal concepts for divorce and seven more for separation.’
‘It is hard to understand these from my culture,’ Eadulf admitted.
‘It is just as hard for a woman to become deorad, an outcast deprived of the protection of the law and her kin,’ observed Fidelma. ‘Apart from her plotting against her husband, Grella is guilty under two of the seven adultery laws and so she is deprived of such protection. Both those laws relate to her abusing her husband by sexually violating his trust. She loses her rights of protection and so her coibche, her dowry, is forfeit and she is made outcast. The confiscation of what property she has follows.’
Eadulf had long since had to come to terms with the fact that women in Fidelma’s society could inherit and hold property on their own account as banchomarbae – female inheritors.
‘What will happen to Fínsnechta?’ Eadulf asked. ‘After all, you made it clear that he was the real power behind the conspiracy. He was first cousin to Cenn Fáelad and could have easily stepped into the shoes of the High King he had deposed.’
At this question, Fidelma looked troubled and her mouth drooped in disapproval. ‘I do not agree with Cenn Fáelad’s decision. He and the Chief Brehon decided that nothing should be done. At the moment it is theoretical, because Fínsnechta has not returned to the Five Kingdoms, so far as is known. He remains in exile in the land of the Gewisse.’
‘But what if he does return?’ Eadulf demanded.
‘He would be rebuked for helping Grella join her lover but no other charge would be made. It is considered better to ameliorate the tensions within the Uí Néill rather than exacerbate them – there are enough rivals for the High Kingship. So while he would not be welcomed in Tara, or anywhere in the High King’s presence or personal territory, Fínsnechta would be allowed to return to his own fortress and estate without penalty.’
‘That is not wise. That is merely storing trouble for the future.’
‘I fear so,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘But the law is the law. At least he will be closely watched if he does return to the Five Kingdoms.’
‘Better to eliminate the cause than wait for the effects,’ Eadulf pointed out. ‘Anyway, what news of Aescwine? What punishment was decreed for him?’
‘Cenn Fáelad does not wish to provoke a war with the Saxons. Aescwine will be safe if he remains in the land of the Gewisse. I would be surprised if he came to our shores again with his ship and his crew.’
Eadulf lips formed a soundless whistle. ‘I suppose that is good politics,’ he said approvingly. ‘But it is politics rather than law.’
‘I am afraid sometimes politics becomes the law. That is why the law and j
ustice are entirely different concepts.’
‘What irritates me,’ sighed Eadulf, ‘is that this is the first case that you have been involved in where you have solved the mystery but the guilty seem to have gone free.’
‘I am not sure what freedom they have,’ Fidelma replied drily. ‘Grella is now without the protection of the law here and, from what you say, her position in the land of the Gewisse will be far from a favourable one.’
Eadulf made a cynical grimace. ‘Indeed, let us hope that she does not attempt any conspiracies against her lover,’ he agreed. ‘She will find the Gewisse are not as forgiving as your people, Fidelma.’
Fidelma regarded him with a slight frown. ‘I trust, Eadulf, that you are now able to consider my people as your people?’ she said quietly, but whether it was a comment or a question Eadulf was none too sure.
HISTORICAL AFTERWORD
A few years after these events, Cenn Fáelad mac Blathmaic, High King of Ireland, was killed by his first cousin, Fínsnechta mac Dúnchad. He died at a place named as Móin Aircheltair, near Loch Dearg (Donegal). Fínsnechta managed to secure the support of powerful nobles and churchmen and thus assumed the High Kingship in AD 674. He ruled as High King until AD 695 and even secured the epithet ‘Fleded’, meaning ‘the bountiful’.
As for Aescwine, in the very same year that Cenn Fáelad died he claimed Cenwealh’s throne and ruled the West Saxons for two years. His only achievement, noted by the Anglo-Saxon chroniclers, was that he defeated Wulfhere, the powerful King of Mercia, in AD 675. A year later, Aescwine himself was also dead but the historical records are silent as to the cause.
No attempt to attack or conquer the peaceful Five Kingdoms of Éireann was made by any of the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms for a further ten years. It was Ecgfrith, son of Oswiu, who had become ruler of Northumbria in AD 670, who led the invasion. He had risen to power as Bretwalda, or Overlord, after years of violent and bloody campaigns against his fellow Anglo-Saxons and the Britons, Rheged, the Picts and Dál Riada. In AD 684, his invasion brought forth protests from Bishop Ecgberht, who had decided to live in Ireland after the Synod of Whitby.
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