Atonement of Blood(126)

‘But to kill his own brother and switch identities …’ Conrí was shaking his head in disbelief.

‘There is an easy way to get confirmation,’ Eadulf murmured. ‘Any competent apothecary or physician can tell the difference between the scar left by an axe and the bite of a horse.’

Brother Lugna, who had remained silent the whole time, went to move forward, as if to extend his arm for inspection, but then he suddenly turned and made a grab for Gormán’s sword, his placid features twisted in anger. Gormán was quicker and his dagger was at the stable-master’s throat. Brother Lugna wisely halted his action and stood glowering at them.

Eadulf glanced briefly at the man’s wrist. ‘No horse made that scar,’ he confirmed.

Fidelma pointed to the forehead of the erstwhile Lugna. Anger had caused the blood to flush his features. In so doing, a faint white scar was shown in relief.

‘A further proof? That is doubtless where poor Brother Lennán struck his killer when he tried to seize the Cathach on Cnoc Áine.’

‘I can hardly believe it,’ the abbot almost wailed.

‘This fits with Lorcán’s character.’ Temnén was reflective. ‘I knew him, as I told you. He was ambitious and cruel. I did say that physically, Lorcán and Lugna could pass as one another except for their differences in personality.’

‘I am afraid that it was Lugna who was slain,’ repeated Fidelma. ‘And it was not by Uisnech, although he received the blame – presumably from tales circulated by Lorcán. He, as you say, had no morality. After the defeat and death of his father, he fled to this abbey. He did not think twice about killing his own twin brother and taking his place. Brother Lugna would not be suspected. Who would question him? Then he was free to plot for the future. As the surviving son of Prince Eoganán he determined he would find a way to claim the princedom and continue the war against Cashel. It was as simple as that.’

‘Yet not so simple to me,’ Conrí said. ‘Explain the details of this.’

‘It was Lorcán, in his guise of stable-master, who learned from poor Brother Ledbán, working as a groom under him, where his daughter Liamuin was hiding. He also learned that she had the Cathach which her brother had given her for safekeeping. Having heard that a warrior of the Golden Collar was living at Menma’s rath, he conceived the idea of retrieving the Cathach in the guise of Eóghanacht warriors, even taking the shield that he knew had been retrieved from the battlefield and kept in the shrine here, along with one of the Cashel torcs. It was not hard for him to gain access to the shrine room.

‘But when he recovered the Cathach from Menma’s rath he found it had been damaged during the battle. It needed repair – and who were the greatest smiths in the kingdom? The almost legendary smiths of Magh Méine, the Plain of Minerals on the Great River.’

‘And so they restored the Cathach?’ queried Temnén.

‘The task was given to Gláed, one of his loyal followers. Gláed knew Ordan of Rathordan and made the deal with him to take the Cathach to the smiths of Magh Méine. When it had been repaired, Ordan was to bring it back to him at the Ford of the Oaks. Gláed also gave Ordan money to purchase some new weapons – swords, spears and shields, for the quality of items produced by those smiths is known throughout the Five Kingdoms. And this Ordan did … he fulfilled his task – except that he fell into our hands. Then Gláed was caught by Conrí.’

Brother Cuineáin was aghast. ‘I served with this man for four years and was fooled. He was my cousin, and I was fooled. Why did he hide here for four years in disguise before acting?’

‘He had to await the right opportunity. That was when Prince Donennach felt secure enough to make a visit to Tara to see the High King. It was then Lorcán decided to use another weapon. As I have told you, that weapon was poor demented Maolán, whose secret he had learned. He told Maolán that it was my brother Colgú, the King of Cashel, who had led the raid on Menma’s rath. Maolán was advised to dress as a religious and say he had a message from this abbey in order to gain entrance to Cashel. Perhaps it was his own idea to give his name as that of Liamuin’s brother, Brother Lennán. That I do not know.’

Conrí was undecided. ‘I am not sure what to do with him.’

Lugna scowled. ‘You would know what to do if you were a true Uí Fidgente! Call yourself a warlord? If you hold the sacred banner of our people in respect, you would turn on our oppressors! You, too, Temnén – you fought against the Eóghanacht. Are you still possessed of any Uí Fidgente manhood and pride? Will you let an Eóghanacht trample on your people?’