‘So, surely you would know if Liamuin communicated with her father while he was here?’
The stable-master frowned. ‘After he came here? Of course, all this was a long time ago. I am not sure.’
‘Well, if old Ledbán told anyone here about his daughter, surely it would have been you?’
‘Not necessarily so,’ replied Brother Lugna. ‘Ledbán was friendly with many people. There was a young scribe here that he often talked with. I also remember that he was once visited by a very disagreeable man, who shouted at him – I had to intervene. As I remember, he kept shouting the name Liamuin. Maybe that was this Escmug that you have mentioned?’
Fidelma sighed. ‘Then this is where I must speculate, which is something I do not like to do. Liamuin managed to contact her father and tell him not only where she was, but that she had possession of the Cathach given her by her brother. Liamuin was a dutiful daughter. In the joy of hearing from his daughter, old Ledbán revealed that information to someone he trusted.’
There was a silence and then Marban said: ‘Are you saying that Liamuin was killed – indeed, that Menma’s rath was attacked and burned – because of the Cathach?’
‘That is precisely what I am saying,’ Fidelma replied.
‘But we know that a warrior of the Golden Collar led the raid that destroyed Menma’s rath,’ Marban declared. ‘It was the same warrior who had been staying at the rath and with whom Liamuin was supposed to have fallen in love. Are you trying to exonerate whoever that Cashel warrior was?’
‘I do not intend to exonerate anyone,’ Fidelma returned in an even tone. ‘I intend to uncover the truth. The truth certainly is that, in the aftermath of Cnoc Áine, my brother sent his commanders and warriors into this territory and stationed them in certain areas to maintain the peace while Prince Donennach negotiated the treaty. Such a warrior was, indeed, sent to the rath of Menma. Apparently he fell in love with Liamuin and she with him. I should add that Liamuin’s husband had already been killed by Marban, who justly claims self-defence. Is that not so, Marban?’
‘I have no shame in admitting it,’ Marban said sombrely. ‘He was my own brother but he was evil and a brute. I should have dealt with him many years ago, and much anguish could have been avoided.’
‘I have already said that there is no legal consequence from what you told me,’ replied Fidelma gravely. ‘Liamuin was, apparently, a woman of beauty and charm. Several men fell in love with her when she was at Menma’s rath, but she responded only to the warrior from Cashel.’
‘And he was the person who killed her!’ Marban said heatedly.
‘Not so. The person who wanted to recover the Cathach killed her. A raid was led by someone wearing a gold torc and carrying my brother’s shield – the very shield which is on the table before you. It was a shield abandoned at Cnoc Áine. That same person took some men to Menma’s home and killed all the inhabitants, including Liamuin, in order to recover the Cathach. The ruse worked, for the one survivor – an old woman named Suanach – described the leader as wearing a golden collar, and she also described the shield. She did not, however, know the significance of its device. The story was then handed down among locals that it was the warrior from Cashel and his men who were responsible. The blame was laid squarely on them.’
‘You claim that this shield, your brother’s shield, was the one used in that attack? But this shield has been kept in the abbey all these years. You are making wild speculations.’ Brother Cuineáin’s tone was angry. ‘You are trying to shift the blame onto the abbey.’ He went suddenly pale. ‘In fact, you are accusing the abbot or myself – as we have the keys to the shrine! You are trying to say that whoever led the raid on this Menma’s rath came from the abbey and used items from our special collection to mislead people. You are trying—’
Fidelma decided to bring a halt to his rising hysteria. ‘I am not trying to say this, Brother Cuineáin,’ she said sharply. ‘I am saying it.’
Conrí was frowning, attempting to follow her arguments. ‘I do not see how this fits in with your claim of a plot to kill your brother or overthrow Prince Donennach and all else that follows?’
‘Be patient, my friend,’ Fidelma chided gently. ‘I will explain. This story of the raid on Menma’s rath was swiftly spread, much to the real culprit’s satisfaction. The blame was put on the nameless Cashel warrior and his men – the horror being that he had this relationship with Liamuin and claimed her love, only to ruthlessly cut her down. But two other men happened to be hopelessly in love with Liamuin.