Fidelma was surprised. ‘I was not told this. I had heard that he was going to pay his respects to the High King at Tara, but not that he was returning through Cashel.’
‘It was felt best not to make the negotiation too widely known.’
‘Donennach is a wily politician,’ muttered Caol. ‘That is why I should go with you. You stand in need of protection.’
‘Eadulf and I can protect ourselves …’ began Fidelma.
Finguine intervened again: ‘Your brother has come close to assassination. If there is a danger in the country of the Uí Fidgente then you must take what steps you may for your protection. On the other hand, Fidelma, I can appreciate your argument that it would be ill-advised for you to take an entire band of warriors as your escort. That would draw too much attention to yourselves and might well restrict your enquiries.’
‘What middle path do you suggest?’ Fidelma asked.
‘I would suggest that one warrior of the Nasc Niadh, the Golden Collar, should accompany you.’
Fidelma thought about it and then shrugged. ‘Very well. One warrior will not attract as much attention to us as a band of warriors.’
‘Then it is agreed,’ confirmed Finguine.
‘I will make sure that you are both kept safe,’ Caol promised them with a confident smile. ‘It will be like old times.’
Finguine was shaking his head. ‘I did not mean you, Caol. As commander of the warriors in Cashel your task must be to remain close by my side during this time of unrest. If news of the severity of the King’s injuries becomes known among his enemies, then we may stand in need of your skills.’
Caol’s expression fell in disappointment. ‘But I know the Uí Fidgente,’ he repeated. ‘They are not to be trusted. I was one of the warriors who went with Uisnech, the lord of Áine, to pacify them after they were defeated at Cnoc Áine. And didn’t they assassinate Uisnech before they agreed the peace with Cashel? You must remember that, Finguine. You are of the Eóghanacht Áine and were you not kinsman to Uisnech?’
Finguine would not be moved.
‘My mind is made up, Caol. Your duty is here. Now, who would you recommend to accompany the lady Fidelma?’
Caol looked as if he would argue further, but seeing the determination in the tánaiste’s features, he shrugged. Before he could speak, however, Fidelma had answered her cousin. ‘Let Gormán come with us. He has had a great deal of experience.’
‘An excellent choice,’ Finguine agreed, turning to Caol. ‘Do you raise any objections?’
‘He is a good man,’ Caol admitted reluctantly.
Finguine turned back to Fidelma and asked: ‘Do you know when you will leave?’
‘Tomorrow, at first light.’
‘How will you proceed?’
Fidelma glanced at Eadulf and then said confidently, ‘First we will go directly to the Abbey of Mungairit. It may be that something is known there of Brother Lennán. The road is not too difficult beyond Ara’s Well. Two days’ riding should bring us safely to the abbey.’
‘But if you have no success at Mungairit, what then?’
‘Then we shall ride south-west. We’ll follow the river, An Mháigh, to Dún Eochair Mháigh and see what is known of this girl and her mother Liamuin. That’s no more than a day’s ride from Mungairit. A further day’s ride would put us in Luachra territory if our enquiries force us there. From the territory of the Luachra we could be back in Cashel after two or three days at most. Of course, it all depends on how long we stay in each place pursuing our task, but the minimum we should be away is seven days.’
Finguine was calculating the time. ‘I cannot say I feel comfortable about this, but if there is no other way …’
‘This has to be done so that we can learn if there is more danger threatening,’ Fidelma insisted.
Finguine nodded briefly before glancing around at the assembled company. ‘Then it is agreed?’
They assented one by one, although Caol still looked disappointed that he would not be going with them.
Outside the small council chamber Fidelma turned to Eadulf and apologised.
‘For what?’ he asked.
‘Once more we have to leave little Alchú behind.’
Eadulf smiled at her. ‘In this case it seems necessary. Let us hope it will not be for long. The boy is bright and I feel he now needs our attention. He is beginning to have dexterity in counting and speaking. He is even picking up some of my language, in spite of Muirgen’s disapproval.’
Fidelma laughed easily. ‘Take no notice. It is what we think that is important. Indeed, this is the best time for the boy to learn languages. We should talk to Brother Conchobhar about it. He always says that the younger a child starts learning languages, the more naturally they can pick them up.’