Socht had brought a company of twenty-five warriors as an escort. He rode at the head of ten of them. The war banner of red silk with the ravening wolf emblem was borne aloft by the standard-bearer at his side. Then came Conrí with Fidelma, Eadulf and Gormán. They were followed by the remaining warriors. It had been an easy ride from the Ford of Oaks. They had kept to a track on the western side of the river, as Conrí had said it would save them time rather than having to follow the wriggling path of the water on the eastern side. Beyond the Ford of Oaks the river seemed to increase the number of twists and turns in its path from where it rose in the distant southern mountains.
Conrí surveyed the settlement. ‘It seems our fears might have been for nothing, lady,’ he observed. ‘The place appears tranquil enough. If there had been an attempt to attack it, we would surely have seen evidence.’
‘Better to be wrong than to have one’s fears set aside until too late,’ Eadulf offered defensively.
Fidelma made no comment as they rode down the short hill towards the riverbank and found a wooden bridge, still under construction, across the river into the centre of the settlement. Although it was still being worked on, the bridge had been reinforced sufficiently to take the passage of horses.
Conrí turned to Socht. ‘Take half of the men and wait on this side of the river. I’ll go with the lady Fidelma to the fortress and see what can be discovered. If all is well, I’ll signal you to join us.’
They walked their horses carefully across the construction, the hooves beating a hollow tattoo on the wooden planks while Socht dispersed his men as instructed. As they moved through the township, some folk recognised Conrí and hands were raised in greeting. Other folk regarded them with looks of curiosity while a few stopped and held whispered conversations as they watched them pass.
They moved directly to the pathway that led up to the gates of the fortress. Now they could observe sentinels. A thickset man was waiting for them in the middle of the open gateway. He stood legs apart and hands on hips, a broad smile on his face.
‘Welcome, Lord Conrí!’ His voice was almost a bellow. ‘We saw your banner across the river. What brings you here?’
Conrí swung down and greeted the man as an old friend.
‘Greetings, Cúana. We come here out of curiosity.’ He waved a hand towards Fidelma and Eadulf. ‘This is the lady Fidelma of Cashel and Brother Eadulf.’
The names registered with the man, who regarded them with a surprised expression before quickly acknowledging them.
‘This,’ went on Conrí, ‘is Cúana, the steward to Prince Donennach. He commands the fortress while the Prince is absent.’
‘That is, I have a guard of just a score of warriors,’ Cúana added with a wry smile. ‘Nothing so imposing as at Cashel, lady.’
Fidelma and Eadulf had dismounted. ‘Is all quiet here, Cúana?’ Fidelma asked.
The young steward frowned. ‘Should it be otherwise, lady?’ he countered.
‘It is just that there have been some strange happenings, my friend,’ Conrí explained. ‘The lady Fidelma has come to investigate the attempted assassination of her brother, King Colgú – an attack which succeeded in killing the Chief Brehon of Muman.’
At once the steward showed concern. ‘Is your brother out of harm’s way then, lady?’
‘So far as we know.’
‘Then what brings you here?’
‘A torturous path,’ she replied. ‘We will talk about it later. Right now, I would like to know if you have heard of any plot against Prince Donennach? Have there been any rumours that some rival to his rule may be plotting to seize this fortress?’
Cúana’s eyes widened and he glanced at Conrí as if for confirmation that she was being serious. When he saw his friend’s expression, he turned back to Fidelma. ‘None that I have heard of, lady. All is quiet here, as I have said. If there is some plot to discredit the Uí Fidgente, then I have seen no sign of it.’
Conrí laid a hand on his arm. ‘But what better time for a plot to be put in motion, my friend? What better time to overthrow the rule of Prince Donennach – when he is out of the territory? We must admit there are some among us who resent the peace that was made with Cashel. That is why I hurried here to make sure that all is well with you.’
‘The country has never been quieter,’ the steward assured him.
‘In that case, my friend,’ smiled Conrí, ‘I would formally ask hospitality for myself and my guests as well as for my men.’