Read The Seventh Trumpet Online

Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_NB_Fixed, #_rt_yes, #blt, #Clerical Sleuth, #Crime, #Fiction, #Medieval Ireland

The Seventh Trumpet (37 page)

BOOK: The Seventh Trumpet
9.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Ailill’s features were set firm but the girl was blinking in bewilderment.

‘What does that mean?’ Her voice was whiny as she looked up at Ailill. ‘I want to go home to Gabrán.’

‘It means that Laigin’s warriors will soon be sweeping through Gabrán, if they have not done so already,’ Gelgéis explained testily. ‘Now, I suggest you return to your chamber, lady. We will keep you informed if we hear any further news.’

Ailill swallowed hard. ‘Is Cashel in danger, cousin?’ he asked Fidelma. ‘What of this rebellion in the west? You have only to call on my service, although I feel that I should be rallying the men of Gabrán for I am … was … the foster-son of Drón.’

‘You understand that even if the attack does not materialise, you are to remain here until we have determined how Drón came by his death? I have taken charge of this matter.’

There was a slight tension of the man’s jaw and then he nodded. ‘Of course. But shouldn’t we have more concern for the threat to the kingdom?’

‘Do not be concerned. Both matters will be dealt with.’

Ailill took the miserable and still-complaining girl by the arm and ushered her out.

Fidelma turned back to Gelgéis. ‘I think time is running out, don’t you?’ she said.

Gelgéis obviously knew what she meant and, without a word, turned to a curtained alcove, drawing back the drapery to reveal a wooden door beyond. She opened it and gestured for Fidelma and Eadulf to follow. A steep wooden stair led below. Oil lamps lit the depths into which they descended. They came to another wooden door. Gelgéis paused and rapped on it.

‘It is I,’ she called softly.

There was a movement from beyond and a bolt rasped in its metal holder before the door swung inward.

Whoever opened it was standing back and Gelgéis led them into a chamber which was surprisingly filled with natural light as one side seemed to open on to grounds at the back of the fortress. Fidelma had a glimpse of a vegetable and herb garden beyond. Then she turned to face the person who was just shutting the door behind them.

‘Well, Torna? Or should I say Tormeid?’ She smiled thinly. ‘We meet once more.’

Tormeid, whom she had last seen briefly under Drón’s window, stood before them. He looked at Gelgéis with a question in his eyes.

‘Events are fast moving,’ she told him. ‘Fianamail of Laigin has gathered an army to invade Muman. I had to bring Fidelma to you.’

The man they had known as Torna turned back to Fidelma and Eadulf. ‘It is good to see you alive and well,’ he said. ‘I feared for your safety when we were captured on the riverbank.’

Gelgéis indicated some chairs. The room was apparently an antechamber to the garden, filled with numerous tools, plants and boxes. Neither Fidelma nor Eadulf spoke.

‘Forgive my receiving you in these conditions,’ the erstwhile poet continued. ‘Once you saw me from the window, I suspected that it would not be long before you found me.’

‘I have been trying to track you down since Cronán’s men took you. We followed you to Liath Mór.’

‘So I heard. Gelgéis has told me who you thought I was. It was well worked out, lady.’

He sank into a chair, and only then did Fidelma and Eadulf seat themselves as well.

‘Was I right?’ enquired Fidelma.

The young man smiled again. ‘Your reputation has not been acquired for nothing, lady. You were right in most particulars. I am Tormeid of the Uí Duach. I may also add that I was one of a group of so-called hot-headed young warriors who went to demand reparation from Cronán of Gleann an Ghuail. I was captured and deprived of my liberty along with others.’

‘And all else was correct?’

‘It was.’

‘But it leaves many questions to be answered.’

‘Of course it does.’

‘These questions might have been answered more rapidly had you both been honest with me from the start,’ Fidelma observed sharply.

Gelgéis was shaking her head. ‘We could not answer your questions before we knew if we could trust you.’

Fidelma’s eyebrows arched a little. ‘If you are loyal to Cashel, as you claimed, why couldn’t you trust me?’

‘The fact that you were the sister of King Colgú,’ Gelgéis said simply. ‘You might have been part of the conspiracy to overthrow him.’

For the first time, Eadulf saw Fidelma rendered speechless for a few moments. Finally she said: ‘I think an explanation is in order. Why should I be planning to overthrow my own brother?’

‘All in proper order, lady,’ Tormeid replied. ‘Your actions have now shown that you are to be trusted. We are satisfied that you are not part of this conspiracy.’

‘Well, that is something,’ she replied dryly. ‘Very well. All in good order as you say. Let us finish the story of how you came here, Tormeid. You escaped from Cronán’s fortress together with his daughter, Muirne. Is that correct?’

There was a slight tightening at the corner of his mouth but he nodded.

‘You have just escaped a second time from Cronán’s fortress of Liath Mór,’ said Eadulf. ‘By the same method?’

The young man nodded again. ‘Indeed. Both times it was by the same method.’

‘Through the underground vaults you yourself helped to construct?’

‘When I was a prisoner, a
daer-fuidir
, I was set to work on the vaults of Cronán’s fortress. I think you will have seen enough of it to realise that it is a massive construction. Those of us who were forced to build those cellars and fortifications made sure that we created a means of exit unbeknown to those overseeing the work.’

‘It was by that method that some of the
daer-fuidir
, the Uí Duach slaves, also helped us escape,’ Eadulf commented.

‘We were helped by a girl called Ségnat,’ Fidelma added. ‘She told me that it was Tormeid who had escaped with Cronán’s daughter, so then I realised your true name. I tried to persuade her to escape with us. There were reasons why she stayed.’

Tormeid’s face was a white mask of guilt. ‘Gelgéis has told me. Believe me, I did not know until now that I had cost the lives of five of my good friends and cousins. When I escaped with Muirne I knew the secret way in and out of those dark vaults,’ he said softly. ‘I did not think Cronán would be so cruel and vindictive to punish others for my actions.’

‘So you escaped with Muirne and were trying to cross the Suir. But the river was in flood and she drowned, just as you told me. Is that correct?’ pressed Fidelma.

The young man lowered his gaze. ‘It is.’

‘How did you come to Durlus?’

‘Gelgéis and Spealáin happened to be passing along the river road, north of here. They found me more dead than alive on the riverbank. They also found the body of Muirne. They brought me to the fortress where I was nursed and revived. I told them my story and Gelgéis gave me shelter and promised not to inform Cronán. The body of Muirne was buried by Bishop Daig.’

‘How long have you sheltered here in Durlus?’

Tormeid actually forced a smile. ‘Ever since that day I was dragged from the river. I now serve among the warriors of Gelgéis here in Éile.’

‘How did you learn about this conspiracy? From Brother Ailgesach?’

Tormeid and Gelgéis exchanged a glance.

‘You seem to know much,’ Tormeid remarked softly.

‘And deduce much,’ Fidelma smiled confidently. ‘Brother Ailgesach, when he came to Durlus, told Gelgéis that while he was an attendant to those afflicted in the Gleann na nGeilt, the Glen of Lunatics, he had come across some frightening information. The years he had spent there among the insane had driven him to drink; but even with his drink problem he had learned something that he needed to tell someone, hadn’t he? He had learned about a conspiracy.’

Gelgéis spoke quietly: ‘When he left the Glen of Lunatics, Abbot Ségdae appointed him to run the chapel at Fraigh Dubh. But he came here first. He had discovered that someone was being paid to persuade people to join a band who would attack religious communities and isolated settlements in the west. This person was a religious fanatic who had been recently incarcerated in the Glen of Lunatics because of their religious madness. Ailgesach kept the name of this person a secret because he wanted to gather more information. He told me that a relation of this person was due to visit the latter at the Glen of Lunatics. Ailgesach had contacted this relative, who had promised to find out what information they could uncover.’

‘So you and Tormeid arranged to visit Ailgesach at Fraigh Dubh when this person returned from the Glen of Lunatics with the information. Correct?’

‘We did.’

‘Brother Ailgesach had already told you that the conspiracy concerned a noble of Osraige. That person was none other than Cronán, and presumably that was why Tormeid was an enthusiastic ally in this venture. You both went to stay at Brother Ailgesach’s cabin, waiting for the man with his information.’

‘He did not show up,’ Tormeid said. ‘But while we were waiting, Brother Ailgesach did reveal his name. It was Bran Finn, the Prince of the Déisi Muman.’

‘So the fact that he did not show up was worrying to you both. Gelgéis had to return to Durlus to host the big harvest festival that had been arranged. That was why you parted company.’

Tormeid agreed. ‘We had gone a good way back to Durlus when I decided that I should return to Imleach, even to the Glen of Lunatics, to find out if I could get some news of Bran Finn. We met a merchant who told us about a place where I might get a boat back downriver. I thought I would travel that way in the guise of an itinerant bard. This would allow Gelgéis to take the horses back to Durlus. Alas, the ferry, with the tavern and chapel, had been destroyed. That spot was where you met me.’

‘What you did not know was that Bran Finn was already dead,’ Fidelma said sombrely.

Tormeid’s astonished expression confirmed it all.

‘His body lay not far from Fraigh Dubh,’ she went on. ‘He had been travelling there when he encountered his killer. The conspirators had learned that Bran Finn had visited his relative and was planning to take some evidence to Brother Ailgesach. They knew that this information – evidence of their conspiracy – would be passed on, so they had to make sure of two things. One, that Bran Finn would not supply the evidence he had discovered and, two, that Brother Ailgesach would pass on nothing else of what he knew about the Glen of Lunatics. Biasta was sent to Fraigh Dubh to ensure that Ailgesach’s voice was silenced. He succeeded, in spite of our being there, and he escaped with final instructions to the conspirators in Laigin.’

‘How did Cronán’s men find us on the riverbank and abduct us – and why did they think you were Gelgéis?’

‘Durlus is not isolated, my friends. Doubtless there were people willing to pass information on to Cronán. Spillán came here and was told that you had both gone south to Fraigh Dubh. He was riding south. In fact, you had turned off the main highway to get to the river and he nearly missed you. Sillán was told by the same merchant who had directed you where you had gone. The same merchant misinformed us about the location of the tavern by the river. Sillán did not know that you would part company with Gelgéis, who would go back to Durlus with the horses. But he did know that you would have to camp by the riverbank at that point because there would be few boats downriver until the next day. Sillán rode directly to a place where he had left some of his men and instructed them to abduct you and Gelgéis. They were to bring you to the sheds in Durlus where he waited. They were then to return with the captives to Cronán. The men were looking for you, whom they knew, and a female companion. They made an obvious mistake when they found us.’

‘It sounds complicated,’ commented Tormeid.

‘Events in life can be complicated,’ Fidelma sighed. ‘But this became simple once we found the thread to unravel it. Sillán’s men just made a mistake.’

‘Bran Finn was bringing proof of a conspiracy,’ Tormeid said. ‘Of a rising against Cashel – but by whom?’

‘By someone able to start a minor uprising – something that would distract attention away from what would eventually take place here in the east.’

‘When Bran Finn did not appear on the appointed night, Gelgéis had to return to Durlus otherwise questions would be asked, rumours would be spread,’ agreed Tormeid. ‘I decided to turn back to search for Bran Finn. When I met you, I was aware that the only other thing that Brother Ailgesach had told me about the conspiracy was that whoever was involved in overthrowing Colgú was someone close to the King. That was why I lied to you about who I was and, indeed, that was why Gelgéis did not help you at first.’

‘We needed to know who was leading these raids in the west and the links between them and Cronán. All Ailgesach could tell us was that a strange religieux from Osraige had been reported in the Glen of Lunatics,’ Gelgéis said. ‘He thought this person had brought gold to help recruit the raiders.’

Fidelma exhaled slowly. ‘That makes sense. And so this religieux, who was doubtless one of Cronán’s men, perhaps even his son, Sillán, supplied money to help start the unrest there.’

‘But all Brother Ailgesach could tell us was that there was some religious involvement. Sometimes, when he was in his cups, he said things which did not make sense. He talked about someone who had been chosen by the seventh angel to drive the impure of Faith from the land. He spoke much about the seventh trumpet, until we finally realised that it was a password among the conspirators.’

‘Why did he not reveal the name of the person who would lead the rebellion in the west?’ Gelgéis asked.

‘We did not even know at that time that Bran Finn was the person who would bring us information. We were not told by Brother Ailgesach until we went to Fraigh Dubh,’ said Tormeid. ‘As I say, that is why I lied to you and why Gelgéis was unhelpful, because you were the sister of King Colgú.’

Fidelma felt almost amused. ‘And you both suspected that I might be involved in this conspiracy?’

‘You would not be the first sibling to covet the other’s power and position,’ replied Gelgéis.

‘Why did you not go directly to Colgú with your suspicions?’ asked Eadulf.

‘And give warning to the conspirators who were trusted by him so that they had time enough to hide their tracks?’ Tormeid replied scornfully. ‘We needed more information.’

BOOK: The Seventh Trumpet
9.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Sugar Baby by Erin Pim
Plague: Death was only the beginning! by Donald Franck, Francine Franck
Twice As Nice by Lin Oliver
Skin Tight by Carl Hiaasen
Embracing Everly by Kelly Mooney