‘Very well, Brehon Aillín,’ Fidelma replied after a moment or two. ‘Any advice that you or my cousin Finguine need, is yours for the asking.’
Finguine looked relieved that a possible awkward moment had been avoided. He turned to Brehon Aillín. ‘It was Gormán who admitted the assassin to the hall,’ he said. ‘I presume you will want to question him first?’
The place was almost empty now. Apart from Brehon Aillín and Fidelma, only Finguine and Caol now remained amidst the empty tables still laden with uneaten food. Gormán had remained at the door and, on Caol’s summons, the young warrior advanced, his face pale and his manner nervous.
‘Tell me what you know about this man, Gormán,’ Brehon Aillín said, indicating the corpse of the assassin.
Gormán pursed his lips and gave a little shrug. ‘There is little I can tell you. I was on duty outside the doors of the feasting hall, for it was my turn to act as sentinel. One of the guards from the main gates approached, accompanying this religieux.’
‘Who was the guard?’ asked Brehon Aillín.
‘Luan, the one they nickname the “hound”.’
‘Caol, send someone to find Luan,’ instructed Finguine before indicating that Gormán should continue.
‘Luan told me that the religieux had approached the gates, saying that he was Brother Lennán from Mungairit and had come with an important message for the King. He did not look suspicious. He looked just like an ordinary religieux. He confirmed his purpose to me and said his message was very important, but for the ears of Colgú only. Therefore I told him to wait outside while I entered the feasting hall and told the steward about him. Beccan went directly to Colgú and explained about the visitor. Beccan then signalled for me to admit the man and I did so. The rest you all saw for yourselves, for I had returned outside to my station.’ He sighed, turning his worried expression to Fidelma and adding sorrowfully, ‘I could not have prevented what happened, lady.’
‘No one is blaming you, Gormán,’ Fidelma told him. ‘We were all taken completely by surprise.’
‘So far, that tells us nothing,’ Brehon Aillín murmured. ‘We had better examine Brother Lennán’s corpse.’
At that moment the door opened and Caol returned with another warrior. The man was looking about apprehensively as he was guided towards the group.
‘Is it true?’ the newcomer asked in a whisper. ‘Is the King badly wounded?’
‘It is true,’ confirmed Brehon Aillín, ‘but God be praised that he still lives. However, Brehon Áedo is dead. Now, I presume that you are called Luan? We need you to tell us about this man who has proved to be his assassin.’
‘I did not know,’ the guard burst out, obviously distressed. ‘I should have been suspicious … but he fooled me.’
Brehon Aillín smiled thinly. ‘Just tell us what happened.’
The guard stood frowning, as if forming his recollection.
‘I was on guard at the gates when the figure of a religieux came up the hill, walking easily and openly. He came to me and announced that he was Brother Lennán from the Abbey of the Blessed Nessán and that he had walked from Mungairit to bring an important message to King Colgú. I knew that the King would be celebrating the feast of Colmán and told the man so. He replied that his message was important, that he needed to see the King at once and that he would take responsibility for disturbing him. I ordered my companions to maintain their vigil at the gates and instructed Brother Lennán to follow me to the feasting hall. There I spoke with the warrior, Gormán, and handed over my charge to him.’
Brehon Aillín was about to dismiss the man when Fidelma turned to the guard with a thoughtful expression.
‘One moment, Luan. Why did you say that you should have been suspicious? What gave you such a thought?’
The guard looked unhappy, licking his dry lips for a moment.
‘Lady, it is a long way to come on foot from Mungairit in the land of the Uí Fidgente, yet this man strolled up to the gates here as if he had barely walked from the centre of the town, let alone from Mungairit. There was no sign of his having been on the road for any time. His clothes were not creased or dusty, and he did not even carry a walking staff.’
‘He could have travelled by horse or some other means, and also stopped along the way,’ Brehon Aillín commented. ‘That is what taverns and hostels are for.’
‘He did say that he had walked,’ Luan repeated. ‘I suppose that he could have changed his clothes and footwear before arriving at our gates. That would make sense.’