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overly punctilious, waved him back into his seat, while he went to his chair of office and sat down, resting his arm carefully. Fidelma took a chair on the left-hand side while Donndubhain sat to the King’s right. Eadulf took a standing position near to Capa.
    ‘Well now, Donennach, how may I serve you?’
    ‘I came here as your guest, Colgú,’ the Prince began. ‘I came here with the desire that we of the Uí Fidgente might form a lasting peace with the Eóghanacht of Cashel.’
    He paused. Colgú waited politely. There was nothing to be said for this was a mere statement of fact.
    ‘The attack on me …’ Donennach hesitated, ‘on both of us,’ he corrected, ‘raises certain questions.’
    ‘Be assured that they are questions to which we are urgently seeking answers,’ intervened Fidelma softly.
    ‘I would assume as much,’ snapped Donennach. ‘But Gionga here informs me of things which I find disconcerting. He tells me that the assassins, whom he slew, are men of Cnoc Aine, the land ruled by your cousin, Finguine. Therefore, they are men over whom you have responsibility, Colgú of Cashel. I saw for myself the body of one of these assassins bearing the insignia of your own military elite.’
    ‘You have doubtless heard the saying, Donennach , fronti nulla fides?’ asked Fidelma quietly.

    Donennach scowled at her. ‘What are you trying to tell me?’ he sneered.
    ‘No reliance can be placed on appearance. It is easy to pin a badge on a person just as it is easy to put a coat on a person. The coat or the badge does not really tell you who the person is but only who the person wishes us to believe that they are,’ replied Fidelma calmly.
    Donennach’s eyes narrowed. ‘Perhaps you will leave it to the King, your brother, to explain the meaning of that defence?’
    ‘Defence implies an accusation,’ Colgú rebuked mildly. ‘We should not be interested in throwing accusations at one another but in getting to the truth.’
    Donennach waved a hand indifferently. ‘So you accept that you have an explanation to make to me?’
    ‘We accept,’ replied Colgú carefully, ‘that one of the two men killed by Gionga bore the insignia of an order of Cashel. But that does not identify him as being a man in my service. As my sister has told you, it is easy to place something on a man to mislead people.’
    Donennach suddenly looked uncomfortable and glanced to Gionga. ‘How do I know that this is not an attempt by Cashel to destroy the Uí Fidgente?’ he demanded.
    At that Donndubháin exploded in anger. He sprang from his seat, hand going to the place where his sword sheath would have been. But it was a rule never to go armed into a king’s great hall.
    ‘This is an affront to Cashel!’ he cried. ‘The Uí Fidgente should be made to swallow his words!’
    Gionga had moved forward in front of his Prince, his hand also searching for the non-existent sword.
    Colgú held up a hand to stay his tanist.
    ‘Calm yourself, Donndubháin,’ he ordered. ‘Donennach, order your man back. No hurt will come to you while you are in Cashel. I swear this by the Holy Cross.’
    Donndubhain sunk back to his chair while Gionga, at a swift gesture from Donennach’s hand, retired to his position behind his Prince.
    There was an icy silence
    Colgú’s gaze had never left the face of the Prince of the Uí Fidgente. ‘You say that you do not know whether what occurred was an attempt by Cashel to destroy you? Can I be as assured that this was not some Uí Fidgente plot against my life?’ he said evenly.
    ‘A plot by me? Here in Cashel? I was nearly killed by the assassin’s arrow.’ Donennach’s voice was developing a tetchiness.
    ‘Instead of hurling accusations at one another, we should be working together to discover the identity of the culprits,’ Colgú repeated, trying to curb his annoyance with his guest.

    Donennach gave a bark of derisive laughter.
    Fidelma rose abruptly and went to stand between the two men,