Brehon Aillín seemed to suppress a snort. ‘I fail to see how this is answering the question of the tánaiste, the heir apparent.’
‘I preface my remarks in order that you will know that I am not responding lightly,’ replied Eadulf, looking him straight in the eye.
‘Continue,’ Finguine ordered, casting a frown at the Brehon.
‘I have said what I have said so that you will know that my preference would be for Fidelma and me to stay here to look after the wants of our son. However, in this case, the only logical path to discovering who is behind the attempted murder of Colgú and the death of the Chief Brehon, is to follow what little information has been given to us. That is the path Fidelma has outlined to you. If there is any other way we can proceed, then let me hear it now.’
There was a silence among the gathering. It was finally broken by Brehon Aillín. ‘This opinion contains a rather arrogant presumption.’
Fidelma’s head came up quickly. There was a dangerous look in her eyes.
‘I was responding to a question,’ Eadulf said quietly. ‘I fail to see the arrogance in my response.’
‘Perhaps “arrogance” is too strong a term,’ Brehon Aillín replied with a thin smile. ‘And yet the opinion you express is that only you and the lady Fidelma would be fit to take on the task of investigating this matter among the Uí Fidgente.’
Eadulf witnessed the stormclouds gather on Fidelma’s features and put his hand on her arm.
Finguine also noticed, for he said immediately: ‘You are quite right, Brehon Aillín. You do well to remind us that you are senior in this matter.’
Fidelma noticed there was a twinkle in her cousin’s blue eyes as he brushed his Eóghanacht red hair away from his forehead.
‘As the senior Brehon, Aillín himself might want to take on this task of riding into the country of the Uí Fidgente to discover what more can be found out,’ explained Finguine.
The heir apparent’s voice sounded innocent enough, but Fidelma was sure he was inwardly laughing at the crusty old judge, whose features had whitened considerably at the suggestion.
‘It would be an honour to undertake this task,’ Brehon Aillín stuttered a little. ‘Of course, I could do so … But – but I am now acting Chief Brehon following the death of poor Brehon Áedo.’ His voice grew stronger. ‘It is therefore my duty to remain in Cashel as your adviser, Finguine, until the King returns to health. Perhaps a more junior dálaigh would be capable of gathering what additional evidence there is to be garnered?’
‘Naturally,’ agreed Finguine solemnly. ‘And since Fidelma has investigated thus far, and with some notable success, I would suggest that she continues to fulfil this task.’ He turned to Fidelma. ‘And in accepting it, I suggest that our friend Eadulf be at your side as always.’
Fidelma bowed her head so that her amusement was not seen by Brehon Aillín.
‘I will carry out the wishes of my cousin, the tánaiste,’ she forced a sombre note in her voice. ‘And I am sure that Eadulf, in spite of his stated reluctance,’ she glanced meaningfully at the old judge, ‘will be happy to accompany me.’
‘But you cannot go into the country of the Uí Fidgente alone.’ It was Caol who protested. The commander of the élite warriors of Cashel turned anxiously towards Finguine. ‘They must be accompanied by a bodyguard of warriors.’
But Fidelma was already protesting. ‘If we go into the country of the Uí Fidgente with a company of warriors, we will be asking for trouble. There is peace between Prince Donennach and Cashel. Armed warriors riding into his territory will be seen as a sign of aggression. Best go there as what we are – two people who travel in peace.’
‘We cannot trust the Uí Fidgente,’ Caol said obstinately. ‘I have fought against them at Cnoc Áine, and I am responsible for your safety as a Princess of the Eóghanacht. Remember that Abbot Nannid of Mungairit is the uncle of Prince Donennach. I cannot allow …’
Fidelma’s eyes flashed suddenly. ‘Cannot allow?’ she demanded coldly.
Finguine once again raised his hand for silence. ‘I am inclined to agree with Caol, Fidelma. It crosses my mind that this is an interesting time for this attack to have happened.’
‘Why so?’ Fidelma was impatient.
‘Because Prince Donennach is due here before the next full moon. He is coming to negotiate a new treaty with Colgú to supersede the one concluded at the end of the Uí Fidgente uprising against us four years ago.’