‘You do not seem unduly concerned with the woman’s loss of her life, but only by the loss of your customers,’ Fidelma observed. ‘Last night you were only too keen to publicise her curse in order to attract the morbid curiosity of people.’
‘I am a good adherent of the New Faith, lady,’ Rumann replied spiritedly. ‘She was probably responsible for the death of Spelán and brought fear and devastation to the annual Samhain festival. I suspect she brought death on herself. I was amazed that she had been allowed to wander free after the things she said. Why, last night, there were many who would gladly have …’ He suddenly halted, realising what he was saying.
Fidelma regarded him grimly. ‘Many who would have wanted her dead? For example, you felt she should be punished?’
Rumann looked unhappy. ‘You know I am not capable of such a thing. I have run this inn in the shadow of your family’s fortress for long enough that you know me well, lady. The woman put fear into many in this township and, I am willing to admit, the fear was in me as well. However, the solution to such evil is not murder.’
‘But you said that many in the inn last night expressed that very thought,’ Eadulf pointed out.
‘So they did. Curnan the woodsman, for instance. He was all for gathering a group and running her out of the township after we heard that she was released from the palace last night.’
Fidelma immediately asked: ‘So when did you hear that she had been released?’
‘Gormán came to join his mother, Della, and his wife, Aibell, at the bonfire later on. He told us that she had been questioned by the King himself and that he had been told to release her. We did not want her coming to curse the fire and our festivities again so we kept a watch on those attending the fire ceremony.’
‘Did she come to the festival fire?’ Eadulf asked.
‘Not so far as I am aware. No one else saw her except …’ He paused thoughtfully.
‘Except?’
Rumann put his head to one side. ‘I think it was Curnan. He was bitter about her because, as I mentioned before, he had been in charge of building the festival fire this year and he wanted to be remembered by it. Now it will be remembered for all the wrong reasons. He felt it an affront to his honour.’
‘We should speak again with Curnan,’ Eadulf advised. ‘Is he still here, sleeping off the effects of the night?’
Rumann shook his head. ‘He left not long before I started to attend to the morning chores and took himself off to his home. He was not affected by drink.’
‘Was he not?’ Fidelma said reflectively. ‘And he left before the body was discovered or afterwards? I thought his duties would be to see that the fire had been safely extinguished and to clear away the debris.’
‘Oh, it was before I saw the body. He said he would return later to accomplish that before this day is out.’
‘So he did not see the body?’
‘Obviously not, lady.’
‘Who else was in your inn when it was mentioned that Brancheó had been released from my brother’s fortress? I mean those who agreed with Curnan that the woman should be chased out of this township?’
‘The place was crowded as befits the occasion. I don’t think I could recall the names of them all.’
‘We will discuss it later after you have had time to remember,’ Fidelma told him, aware that it was not going to be a profitable line of inquiry. ‘If you see Curnan before I do, tell him that I shall want a word with him.’
They left Rumann, still nervous and worried looking, and made their way through the drowsing township towards Della’s homestead. Aibell, Gormán’s wife, was already busy grooming the horses in the paddock when they arrived. She waved gaily to them as they entered the gate and made their way to Della’s porch. Gormán had heard their approach for he came out to greet them with a smile of welcome.
‘You have timed your arrival well,’ he said. ‘My mother is in the kitchen preparing a meal to break our fast with, lady. You are very welcome to join us. But why are you so early abroad? You, too, Aidan. I would have thought that you would all be resting after the festivities of last night.’
Fidelma’s expression was serious. ‘I am afraid it was not for breakfast we came here,’ she told him. ‘Nor shall we disturb Della in her cooking.’
Gormán raised an eyebrow in query. ‘You sound solemn, lady. What is it?’
‘When my brother asked you to escort Brancheó from the feasting hall last night, what did you do?’
‘Do?’ Gormán echoed, puzzled. ‘I obeyed his order. He told me to take her and tell her to go.’ He confided, ‘I will admit to you, lady, that I had no liking for the King’s behaviour last night. He was not himself.’
Fidelma was impatient. ‘I want the details, Gormán.’
Gormán had seen her in such a mood before and was not offended. ‘In response to your brother’s order, I escorted her from the hall to the main gate and told her to go. That is all.’
‘So she left without a word?’
‘Far from it. Brancheó was as malicious in speech as when you saw her at the feast. She continued to curse the entire race of the Eòghanacht, the Rock and all who served there and dwelled in Cashel. Her curses were quite colourful and she repeated that, by the end of the Samhain festival, Cashel would be destroyed. With that parting shot she vanished into the darkness.’
‘At what time was that?’
‘I did not delay, lady. I took her from the feasting hall directly to the gates. I would say that the moon was not yet at its zenith. So it was before midnight. The bonfire in the town below was still blazing and you could hear the celebrations continuing. I had left Dego in charge of security in the feasting hall and, frankly, by the look of the amount of the beer and wine being consumed, there was little point in me staying. I had promised my mother and Aibell that I would join them at the bonfire as soon as I could.’
‘You must have followed close behind Brancheó after she left the palace?’
‘Not that close. Before I left I had a few words with Enda and by that time, the woman had vanished into the night. I didn’t see her at the bonfire either when I reached it and found my mother and Aibell.’ He paused. ‘There was one curious thing, now that I come to think of it.’
‘Which is?’ Fidelma prompted, trying to curb her impatience.
‘As I was taking the woman across the courtyard to the gates, one of those religious scholars came after us. Well, I am not sure that he came after us or was merely on his way to the chapel. It was a dark area but I think that I would know him when I saw him again.’
‘You mean it was one of the scholars who arrived for the council with Brother Mac Raith? They were at the feast.’
‘One of those,’ agreed Gormán.
‘What happened?’
‘Well, the religieux seemed to follow us from the feasting hall. It was as if he were observing us and Brancheó noticed, for at one point she halted and looked back at him. The fellow had also stopped, and was standing in the shadows with one of the brand torches behind him. She looked at him and gave a strange laugh.’
‘Were any words exchanged?’
‘Yes – but I had no understanding of what they were talking about.’
‘Do you mean that they were conversing in a language that you did not know?’
‘No – they were speaking in our language.’
‘Can you not remember anything that was said?’
Gormán thought carefully. ‘She said – “I have been warned about you.” Then the figure in the religious garb said something like: “Have a care, raven-caller, for you associate too closely with the evil ones.” To which she replied: “I am told your name means ‘lightbringer’ but I know that in this matter you bring neither light nor illumination.” Then the religieux replied: “If you think that you know so much, raven-caller, I guarantee that it will be returned and its words hidden from those who would use them to create chaos in this world. That must be, even if you conjure legions of wraith
s from the Otherworld.” Something along those lines, anyway.’
There was a silence as Fidelma and Eadulf considered this curious exchange. ‘It? What was “it” a reference to?’
‘As I said, lady,’ replied Gormán with a shrug, ‘I had no understanding of that exchange other than the thought that the religieux was contesting the power of her Samhain curse. I did, in fact, ask the woman what was meant. I also asked how she knew the man. She merely laughed and said that she had been told about him and that it was not for a mere warrior to know the hidden truths of the world. That was when she started to curse the Eóghanacht again.’
‘Are you sure that you would know the religieux again, Gormán? You are positive that he was one of the newly arrived brethren?’
‘I am certain of it. Why?’
Fidelma was thoughtful. ‘You say that Brancheó said his name meant “lightbringer”? As you know, I like to understand the meaning of names. But none of the religieux of the council bear any name that has that meaning.’
‘Lightbringer? Isn’t that the name of the Morning Star?’ Gormán queried.
Eadulf was frowning. ‘It is also the name of the Devil, who is depicted as the fallen Morning Star in the New Faith. That is certainly a suitable name in these circumstances.’
‘What do you mean?’ Fidelma asked.
‘The Hebrews called the fallen one Heylel, the Greeks called him Hesopharos, and when Eusebius translated the texts into Latin, he was known as Lucifer.’
Fidelma gave a dismissive sniff. ‘Well, none of the scholars in Brother Mac Raith’s group have a name like any of those.’
‘I could certainly recognise the man,’ Gormán stated once more. ‘It was dark but there was light enough from the brand torch.’
‘Then it will be your task to identify which of the religieux it was. We will need to question him.’
‘Wouldn’t it be simpler if we could find Brancheó and ask her who he was?’ Gormán suggested.
Fidelma pursed her lips. ‘That will be impossible, Gormán. It is why I am questioning you. Brancheó was found dead this morning by the Samhain fire.’
The warrior stared at her in silent shock.
Eadulf nodded confirmation. ‘We have just come from viewing her body. She was killed in the same manner as was Spelán.’
‘Do you mean she was a victim of the threefold death?’ The warrior was clearly shaken.
‘That is, indeed, the manner in which she was despatched.’ Fidelma changed the subject. ‘Were you planning to come to the fortress today?’
Gormán’s head came up as if in defiance. ‘Yes, lady. I was coming to offer the resignation of my command to your brother.’
‘You feel your honour was affronted by the way he spoke to you in front of the guests last night,’ Fidelma said softly. ‘Do we not have an old saying, my friend, that when the wine is in, the sense is out. Sometimes it is better to forget the mistakes of a drunken tongue.’
‘But, lady …’
‘I am sure the law is right to assert that a decision made when one is drunk must be reconsidered when one is sober. Come to the fortress and identify the religieux. Identify the man who had the exchange with Brancheó. Forget my brother’s foolishness as he will have probably forgotten what was said. You are needed at his side, Gormán, especially now.’
There was a slight hesitation again and then Gormán sighed and inclined his head in agreement.
‘Be sure you do it in a surreptitious manner,’ Fidelma added as she turned to leave. ‘We do not want to forewarn the man that you are seeking him out. Just let me know which of the three scholars it is.’
‘It shall be done, lady.’
‘My regards to your mother, Della, and regrets that we are unable to stay for breakfast.’
On the way back to the fortress, Fidelma was strangely thoughtful. Once or twice Aidan and Eadulf opened their mouths to speak but decided not to break the contemplative silence.
Colgú had no such compunction as he greeted them when they entered the courtyard. He looked the worse for wear and almost a little ashamed.
‘Is it true that the witch has been killed?’ he demanded without preamble.
Fidelma gave him a withering glance. ‘You look terrible, brother. And your behaviour last night was not seemly.’
Colgú was in no mood to be reproved. ‘I asked a question, sister!’
‘The answer to that is – Brancheó is dead. And in the same manner as the shepherd was killed, apart from two discrepancies.’
‘A revenge killing?’ he asked, surprised. ‘Maybe friends of Spelán killed her in the same manner to make a point?’
‘Except that I do not think he had any friends.’
‘Well, she was blamed by some for his death because she spouted all the ancient curses and so on. Others might have taken exception to that.’ He smiled in grim satisfaction. ‘Yet here we are still. The Eóghanacht have not been transported to the Otherworld. Cashel has not yet fallen and we are not destroyed.’
‘Only your reputation is damaged, brother,’ Fidelma said curtly. ‘I trust you have made appropriate apologies to Gelgéis?’
Colgú flushed. After a moment he added in a sober tone: ‘You do not have to advise me in that matter, sister. I will make my apologies just as I now apologise to you and Eadulf there.’
‘I think you owe more of an apology to Gormán for your temper.’
He frowned. ‘Things are hazy. If I have offended him I will apologise. He is a good man, one of the best commanders of the Golden Collar.’ He raised a hand as if to silence what else she was going to add. ‘I will apologise,’ he repeated. ‘And now I want to know how your investigation of these murders is progressing.’
‘Nothing is ruled out at this time,’ Fidelma told him. ‘It seems unlikely that Christians would revenge themselves on Brancheó by using the ritual killing associated with the Druids and of which she claimed to be one. It seems too obvious.’
At that moment, the elderly apothecary, Brother Conchobhar, came hobbling across the courtyard towards them.
‘Aidan’s warriors brought me the woman’s body as you instructed, Fidelma,’ the old man said immediately. ‘You are right that it is exactly the same method in which Spelan was killed. I would go further and say it is so precisely similar that it looks as if the execution was done by the same hand. There are two differences, however.’
‘Which are?’ pressed Fidelma.
‘There was no engraving of the Tau-Rho on the body,’ he revealed, ‘and no smell of the aroma of lavender.’ The latter fact they had already noted.
Fidelma looked troubled. ‘But you really think it is the same killer? What do we know about this ritual? What does it mean? If Brancheó was a self-professed member of the ancient faith that used it, why would she have perished in this manner?’
‘There is something that is not right here,’ Eadulf declared. ‘Is someone seeking to mislead us into believing this is connected with the ancient faith of this land?’
‘That I don’t know,’ Brother Conchobhar replied. ‘Nor would it aid anyone if I made a guess.’
Fidelma was silent and thought lines creased her brow. ‘I wish I knew more about the ancient rituals.’
Colgú was irritated. ‘I thought your knowledge on such matters was complete?’ If he meant it as sarcasm, Fidelma did not take it as such.
‘Not in this matter, brother.’
‘I know little or nothing,’ Brother Conchobhar confessed. ‘But from what you told me that you have discovered, there do appear to be factors that are at odds with the stories I have known of the ancient ways; especially when someone who professes to be of the Old Faith is killed in this manner. It is curious.’
‘So: are we dealing with people carrying out ancient rituals or people who are merely copying them?’ Fidelma asked the question of herself.
‘I believe you should seek advice, lady,’ the old man said. ‘What you need is some expert on the ancient faith. I agr
ee that we have all heard stories of ritual killings such as this threefold death, but it is essential to know the circumstances in which it is usually enacted.’
‘Where could I find such an expert?’ she demanded in exasperation. ‘I should imagine that adherents of the Old Faith are reticent about revealing themselves these days.’
‘There are plenty of folk who still cling to the old rituals,’ observed Colgú. ‘The woman Brancheó was not reticent.’
‘And look what good it did her,’ Eadulf noted sardonically.
Fidelma was thinking hard. ‘I know of no one who has such knowledge of the old ways,’ she finally said. ‘At least not in this part of the kingdom.’
Colgú smiled thinly. ‘A shame on your memory, sister. You once had an encounter with such a person, albeit some years ago …’
‘You don’t mean the fanatics we encountered when the High King Sechnussach was murdered and we were summoned to Cashel to investigate?’ Eadulf asked. ‘They were all wiped out, so I thought.’
‘I do not mean those,’ Colgú answered. ‘It happened before you met with my sister.’
‘I have it!’ Fidelma exclaimed. ‘You mean the hermit … the hermit Erca who lives on the Blue Mountain.’
‘The same,’ conceded her brother. ‘If anyone has the old knowledge it is the hermit of Cnocgorm.’
‘Cnocgorm?’ Aidan screwed up his features as if to help his memory. ‘That is only a short ride to the east.’
‘We can be there and back by this evening,’ Fidelma agreed enthusiastically. ‘Go, get the horses saddled, Aidan.’
Eadulf stifled a long-suffering sigh. He had been hoping for at least one day free of riding long distances.
Meanwhile Fidelma had turned to Brother Conchobhar.
‘I would be happy,’ she said, ‘if you could advise my brother, old friend.’
‘Advise? Advise me about what?’ Colgú asked before the elderly apothecary could frame the same question.
Night of the Lightbringer Page 21