she had heard.
‘Then you have led a sorrowful life, Aibell,’ she said. ‘Now I begin to understand your bitterness.’
‘Never!’ The word came out like the crack of a whip. ‘No one will ever be able to understand me, to understand what I have had to endure. But I will do so no more. If you try to send me back, I shall resist.’
‘You shall not be sent back. If you were at the age of choice when you were sold, then your father was contravening the law in selling you as much as Fidaig was in buying you. Both will answer to the law. I promise this.’
The girl sniffed; scepticism was clearly on her features.
‘My father is dead and who is going to punish Fidaig? He is powerful and rules the mountains of Sliabh Luachra.’
It was Della who intervened. ‘Young girl, I do not know your troubles but I will tell you this – when the lady Fidelma says that something will be done, then it will be done.’ Her voice was vehement and, for a moment, seemed to impress Aibell. Then the girl turned away with a defensive movement of her shoulders.
Fidelma glanced at Gormán. ‘Keep an eye on our young friend here,’ she said quietly before turning to Eadulf. ‘Eadulf, come with me to the paddock. I want your advice.’
Eadulf was about to comment when he saw her expression and so followed her without demur. They walked slowly down to the paddock gate.
‘What is it?’ he asked, when they stopped. They both leaned on the wooden bar of the gate watching the two horses that still stood grazing contentedly in the field.
‘This is perplexing,’ she sighed.
Eadulf grinned. ‘It is not often that you admit to being perplexed about anything.’
Fidelma said, ‘Well, I am now. When we found this girl, I thought we would be reaching a rapid conclusion in this matter.’
‘I am not so sure that we have not,’ replied Eadulf. ‘We know the assassin came here on horseback. He arrived, put some narcotic on the meat for Della’s dog so it wouldn’t cause an alarm, and thus was able to place his horse in Della’s paddock. Then he changed into the guise of a religieux from Mungairit, leaving his clothes in the woodman’s shed, and came to the palace. His saddle-bag is branded with the symbol of the Uí Fidgente, not just any of that clan but the mark of the princely family itself. The Eóghanacht and Uí Fidgente have been blood enemies for generations … you know well enough that if there is any rebellion in the kingdom, the Uí Fidgente are usually behind it.’
‘Not always,’ objected Fidelma. ‘Not since my brother defeated them at Cnoc Áine.’
Years before, Colgú had crushed a rebellion mounted by Eoghanán, the prince of the Uí Fidgente, on the slopes of Cnoc Áine. Eoghanán’s warlike sons, Torcán and Lorcán, also met their death during the same conspiracy. And when the princedom of the Uí Fidgente passed to Donennach, son of Oengus, he had agreed a peace with Cashel; since when an unsettled calm had been maintained over the kingdom.
The cause of the friction was thus: the Uí Fidgente had long insisted that they should be in the line of the rightful rulers of the kingdom and not just the Eóghanacht, the descendants of Eóghan Mór. They claimed to be descended from Cormac Cass, the elder brother of Eóghan Mór, and sometimes called themselves the Dál gCais, descendants of Cass. But outside of their own lands, they found little support for the claim.
‘True, your brother defeated the Uí Fidgente and that could be the reason behind this attack. The assassin could have come to enact vengeance on him for defeating them in battle. Their capital is Dún Eochair Mháigh where this girl says she came from. We find her sheltering in the very hut the assassin used. She is truculent and uncooperative. What more is needed to make the connection?’
Fidelma was looking unconvinced. ‘These things make sense only superficially.’
‘Superficially?’
‘Your arguments are correct, Eadulf. But
‘Then you have led a sorrowful life, Aibell,’ she said. ‘Now I begin to understand your bitterness.’
‘Never!’ The word came out like the crack of a whip. ‘No one will ever be able to understand me, to understand what I have had to endure. But I will do so no more. If you try to send me back, I shall resist.’
‘You shall not be sent back. If you were at the age of choice when you were sold, then your father was contravening the law in selling you as much as Fidaig was in buying you. Both will answer to the law. I promise this.’
The girl sniffed; scepticism was clearly on her features.
‘My father is dead and who is going to punish Fidaig? He is powerful and rules the mountains of Sliabh Luachra.’
It was Della who intervened. ‘Young girl, I do not know your troubles but I will tell you this – when the lady Fidelma says that something will be done, then it will be done.’ Her voice was vehement and, for a moment, seemed to impress Aibell. Then the girl turned away with a defensive movement of her shoulders.
Fidelma glanced at Gormán. ‘Keep an eye on our young friend here,’ she said quietly before turning to Eadulf. ‘Eadulf, come with me to the paddock. I want your advice.’
Eadulf was about to comment when he saw her expression and so followed her without demur. They walked slowly down to the paddock gate.
‘What is it?’ he asked, when they stopped. They both leaned on the wooden bar of the gate watching the two horses that still stood grazing contentedly in the field.
‘This is perplexing,’ she sighed.
Eadulf grinned. ‘It is not often that you admit to being perplexed about anything.’
Fidelma said, ‘Well, I am now. When we found this girl, I thought we would be reaching a rapid conclusion in this matter.’
‘I am not so sure that we have not,’ replied Eadulf. ‘We know the assassin came here on horseback. He arrived, put some narcotic on the meat for Della’s dog so it wouldn’t cause an alarm, and thus was able to place his horse in Della’s paddock. Then he changed into the guise of a religieux from Mungairit, leaving his clothes in the woodman’s shed, and came to the palace. His saddle-bag is branded with the symbol of the Uí Fidgente, not just any of that clan but the mark of the princely family itself. The Eóghanacht and Uí Fidgente have been blood enemies for generations … you know well enough that if there is any rebellion in the kingdom, the Uí Fidgente are usually behind it.’
‘Not always,’ objected Fidelma. ‘Not since my brother defeated them at Cnoc Áine.’
Years before, Colgú had crushed a rebellion mounted by Eoghanán, the prince of the Uí Fidgente, on the slopes of Cnoc Áine. Eoghanán’s warlike sons, Torcán and Lorcán, also met their death during the same conspiracy. And when the princedom of the Uí Fidgente passed to Donennach, son of Oengus, he had agreed a peace with Cashel; since when an unsettled calm had been maintained over the kingdom.
The cause of the friction was thus: the Uí Fidgente had long insisted that they should be in the line of the rightful rulers of the kingdom and not just the Eóghanacht, the descendants of Eóghan Mór. They claimed to be descended from Cormac Cass, the elder brother of Eóghan Mór, and sometimes called themselves the Dál gCais, descendants of Cass. But outside of their own lands, they found little support for the claim.
‘True, your brother defeated the Uí Fidgente and that could be the reason behind this attack. The assassin could have come to enact vengeance on him for defeating them in battle. Their capital is Dún Eochair Mháigh where this girl says she came from. We find her sheltering in the very hut the assassin used. She is truculent and uncooperative. What more is needed to make the connection?’
Fidelma was looking unconvinced. ‘These things make sense only superficially.’
‘Superficially?’
‘Your arguments are correct, Eadulf. But
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