‘Except to say it is all lies!’ spat the young man, finally speaking.
‘Even to your attack on me and the slaughter of Lachtine the apothecary?’ she replied. ‘Well, no matter. We shall proceed. Oh …’ She turned. ‘Socht, would you bring the stable-master here? I am sure he will not be far away, fretting about how to deal with an extra sixty horses gathered into his abbey.’
Socht was not gone long before he returned with Brother Lugna.
‘Ah, Brother Lugna. I am sorry to bring you here but I need you to witness some things I have to say.’
The man looked around, seemingly puzzled by the company, and gave a quick shrug.
‘You did not want me to make arrangements for the horses, lady?’
‘Not for the moment. I just wanted you to confirm a few things about your old friend, Brother Ledbán, and his son.’
‘Brother Ledbán and Brother Lennán were good men and I will defy anyone who says otherwise,’ asserted the stable-master with spirit.
‘That is fair enough.’ Fidelma paused, collecting herself. ‘I am afraid that I have to start with the Battle of Cnoc Áine. When Eoganán and his standard-bearer were cut down during the battle, Brother Lennán was tending the wounded and dying. In accordance with the rules of war, as the Blessed Colmcille postulated before the Brehons at Druim Ceatt, he was not to be harmed by either side, being a non-combatant. He found the body of Eoganán’s standard-bearer. Next to him lay the Cathach of Fiachu, the battle emblem of the Uí Fidgente, which was considered sacred by your people. Its haft had been splintered and, being of gold, the more delicate parts of the metalwork had been broken off. Brother Lennán stooped to pick it up.
‘As he did so, he was attacked and mortally wounded by a warrior who desired the emblem above his honour. Lennán turned and saw the threatening face above him. Even as he did so, the man thrust his sword into him. Lennán recognised him as Lorcán son of Eoganán …’
Brother Lugna winced. ‘My poor misguided brother,’ he muttered sadly. ‘God be merciful to his soul.’
‘Realising what would happen if the sacred battle emblem fell into the wrong hands, Lennán found a horse, and taking it, rode from the field. He was dying. It was a painful ride but he knew that his sister, Liamuin, dwelled only a short distance from the battlefield. She was married to a fisherman on the nearby River Mháigh. Lennán handed the standard to his sister with the instruction to hide it. He then tried to return to the battlefield in order not to give his sister away. His body was found near the battlefield where loss of blood from his wound had overcome him.
‘I will not go into the personal details but suffice to say, Liamuin had an unhappy relationship with her husband Escmug, a brutal, dominant man. Fortuitously, he was away when Lennán had brought her the Cathach. She knew if her husband returned, she would not be able to carry out the dying wish of her brother. Her daughter was also away from the house, working in the fields. Liamuin had no time to waste. She decided to flee to a relative, Marban the millwright, whom you see before you. She told him the whole story. Marban sent her for safety to his friend Menma. It was at Menma’s rath that she buried the Cathach. Is this not so, Marban?’
The miller shuffled awkwardly. ‘It is even as I told it to you, lady.’
‘It was then that Liamuin’s evil husband played a cruel hand. He went searching for her. He threatened Marban. In his rage he even illegally sold his own daughter, Aibell, as a bondservant to Fidaig of the Luachra, to spite his runaway wife.’
Gláed showed some surprise for the first time.
‘You did not know that Aibell, who served your father, was the daughter of Liamuin?’ asked Fidelma. ‘Ah well, the fate of Aibell does not concern us for the moment; I will deal with it elsewhere. Marban, tell us something about Liamuin’s character.’
‘She was a dutiful wife, even though Escmug beat and ill-used her,’ Marban told them. ‘It was only when her brother gave her a sacred charge to take the Cathach and hide it that she found the courage to finally break away from Escmug. She had remained with him simply to protect her daughter.’
‘A dutiful wife,’ mused Fidelma. ‘Was she also a dutiful daughter?’
‘She was,’ affirmed Marban.
‘Her father was Brother Ledbán, who had come to this very abbey to work as a groom in the stables after his wife died from the Yellow Plague,’ Fidelma went on. ‘Isn’t that so, Brother Lugna?’
The man started when his name was called but he nodded quickly in agreement. ‘It is so. I became the stable-master here long ago, as anyone will tell you. When Brother Ledbán came to join his son Lennán at the abbey, I realised he had served in the stables of our nobility. It was natural that I gave him work in our stables. It was only recently that age and illness caught up with him.’