Badger's Moon

Chapter Eighteen

The Great Hall of Becc, chieftain of the Cinél na Áeda, was packed so that there was little room for anyone except officials of the clan to find seats. So many people had sought entrance to hear the findings of the famous dálaigh from Cashel that some of Becc’s warrior guards had to hold people back at the doors. Becc was seated in his chair of office which, as usual on such occasions, was placed on a wooden dais at the far end of the hall. Fidelma was seated to his right and on the same level. Behind her chair stood Eadulf while Accobrán, the tanist, was standing behind his chieftain’s left shoulder. Immediately to the left sat Abbot Brogán, as senior cleric of the clan, attended by his steward, Brother Solam.

In the first row facing them was a small group of petty chieftains and religious representing the abbey. At Fidelma’s request, the three Aksumite brothers were among them. Behind them, attended by two of his warriors, was the tall, dark-faced warlord of the Uí Fidgente, Conrí the Wolf King. They had ridden into the fortress that morning under their banner of truce, protected by Fidelma’s guarantee that no harm would be visited on them. She had ordered Adag to ensure that Accobrán and his warriors were kept as far away from them as possible. Even so, everyone treated the Uí Fidgente with deep suspicion and scowls and they appeared to form a vulnerable and isolated group.

As Fidelma examined the waiting crowd she could see all those she had especially requested to attend in the hall itself. Even Liag had been persuaded to come after Menma had put some pressure on the old recluse. Menma and Suanach sat near him. Gobnuid was scowling in the crowd, seated near Seachlann the miller. Seachlann’s brother Brocc had been brought from his cell and stood to one side, against a wall, between two watchful warriors. Goll and his family were there. Tómma and Creoda, the assistant tanners, with Sirin the cook, were pressed into a corner. In fact, all Rath Raithlen was represented.

Adag the steward moved forward and, unnecessary as it was, called for attention and silence. He glanced at Becc who, in turn, inclined his head towards Fidelma. She rose and gazed thoughtfully at the crowded hall for a moment before speaking. She spoke slowly and deliberately.

‘I came to this land of the Cinél na Áeda and found evil. What is evil?’ She paused as if expecting an answer. ‘Philosophers for many ages have argued over its precise nature. Evil is doing or intending to do harm, causing discomfort or pain in either a physical or a mental sense and creating trouble and anguish. It is the antithesis of good. Yet Brehon Morann, my mentor, once said that if we tried to abolish evil from the world, then we could know very little of the nature of our being. For often those who perform evil deeds are persuaded that what they do is honourable and necessary. Indeed, unless we all share the same moral codes of behaviour, we cannot propound a definition of evil and we must accept it as a natural part of the world in which we live.’

The people stirred, shuffling their feet, most of them not understanding her words.

‘If we wanted a sermon, Sister, we would have gone to the church,’ cried Brocc, still aggressive in spite of his bonds and not cowed by the warriors standing guard next to him. One of them pushed him roughly to make him quiet.

Fidelma smiled sadly. ‘Even the church does not possess a monopoly on goodness. Evil is to be found there just as it is found among those who do not follow the Faith.’

Abbot Brogán looked as if he were about to respond but snapped his mouth shut, while Liag was actually smiling with cynicism.

‘I have come here and found malevolence,’ continued Fidelma with emphasis.

‘We know that!’ cried Seachlann. ‘Have we not lost our daughters? Stop your sermon and tell us who is responsible.’

‘I shall come to it,’ promised Fidelma in a patient tone. ‘I shall come to it in the proper time. Our culture and our laws are our indication of evil and we must use that as our definition. We seek those responsible for evil, for Seneca once wrote that the most important evil is the evil of cringing to evil and surrendering to it. We must always defy evil and face any suffering before we give in to it.’

Becc leant forward and nodded approvingly. ‘This is true, Fidelma, but show us where this evil lies.’

Fidelma’s expression remained grim. ‘Three crimes have taken place here. The crime of murder, the crime of deception and theft, and the crime of abusing the laws of hospitality. From these three evils, several other small infractions of our law code have flown.’

There was a sudden sense of expectancy among the people in the Great Hall. Fidelma gazed on their upturned faces. A variety of emotions showed in their features: excitement, like dogs waiting to be unleashed in the hunt; consternation and apprehension and, here and there, fear.

‘Let me begin with the crime of the abuse of the laws of hospitality. That is the least serious of the offences that have been committed against the Cinél na Áeda. But we deem it a grave misdemeanour nevertheless.’

She turned and looked down at Brother Dangila and his companions, then glanced towards Brother Solam. ‘Since I have to speak in our own language so that the majority of people may understand, I charge you, Brother Solam, with translating my words into Greek for the convenience of the three brothers of Aksum.’

The steward of the abbey inclined his head, left his place and walked to where the Aksumites were sitting and swiftly interpreted what Fidelma had said. The solemn-faced Brother Dangila bowed slightly in a gesture of acceptance towards her.

‘The three brothers from the far-off land of Aksum have abused the hospitality of the abbey-’

‘I was right!’ interrupted Brocc raucously. ‘They are the killers. I said so all along and I demand-’

Fidelma swung fiercely round on him. ‘You will demand nothing. If you do not remain silent I shall have you removed back to your cell.’

Brocc blinked before her fury and fell sullenly silent.

‘The three brothers from Aksum, being strangers, may themselves have been misled and might use that argument to defend their actions,’ Fidelma said.

Brother Dangila spoke directly to Fidelma, with Brother Solam translating for the rest of the people. ‘We have no understanding of this alleged abuse, Sister. Please explain.’

‘You came here, so you have told us, to study the works that are in the abbey of Finnbarr. Correct?’

‘Correct.’

‘Abbot Brogán gave you hospitality at the abbey on the grounds of that study and for no other purpose. But you had another reason for coming here, didn’t you?’

Brother Dangila’s eyes narrowed slightly and he made no reply.

‘Before you entered the brotherhood of the Faith, Dangila, you told me that you worked in the gold mines of your country, the mines of Adulis which produce gold that is exported all over the world. And was not your father a worker in those same mines?’

Brother Dangila nodded slowly. ‘I do not deny it. I did work in the mines in the shadow of Ras Dashen before I joined the brotherhood of the Faith.’

‘Your words to me were that you learnt more than just how to spot a rich vein of gold or copper,’ Fidelma continued. ‘In fact, you were a craftsman in your field. You knew all about mining techniques.’

The Aksumite shrugged indifferently but made no response.

‘We know how you were saved from a ship that foundered off the shores and take to the house of Molaga. You were there some time. Do you remember telling me how you decided to come here and stay in the community of the abbey of Finnbarr?’

‘My memory is not so short,’ replied Brother Dangila. ‘And yet I cannot see-’

‘Be patient. You told me that you came here to study the writings of Aibhistín about the moon and its effects…’

There was an uneasy murmur from those assembled.

‘That was not entirely true, was it?’ snapped Fidelma.

Brother Dangila said nothing. His two companions, Brother Nakfa and Brother Gambela, exchanged glances. Their expressions were not lost on Fidelma.

‘Perhaps you did not even tell your companions the truth of why you really brought them to the land of the Cinél na Áeda,’ she went on confidently, hoping she was interpreting the movement correctly.

Again, Brother Dangila was silent.

‘It was Accobrán who suggested that you came to this abbey, wasn’t it?’ Fidelma prompted.

The young tanist, who had been lounging with a cynical smile on his face, suddenly tensed.

‘What are you implying?’ he demanded, moving forward, but Becc reached out a hand and held him back.

Fidelma ignored him.

‘What did Accobrán offer you in return for coming here to use your talent in spotting gold veins in the old mines here?’ she said.

‘Outrageous!’ cried Accobrán, taking another involuntary step forward but this time finding his path blocked by the stocky frame of Eadulf. ‘How dare you…?’

Sister Fidelma smiled softly at him. ‘I dare because I am a dálaigh. As Brother Dangila seems reticent, perhaps you will tell me what you offered him to come and be your mine surveyor?’

Becc leant forward, frowning at his nephew. ‘A tanist has a duty to clear such a matter not only with myself but with the council of the Cinél na Áeda. He could not act arbitrarily.’

Fidelma continued to look questioningly at Accobrán but replied to the chieftain. ‘Your tanist was not intending to share any wealth that he discovered with you or the Cinél na Áeda. This leads me to the second of the crimes that I have said have been committed here — a betrayal of trust by your tanist, the man whom you appointed your heir-apparent.’

Accobrán had grabbed his sword hilt to unsheathe the weapon but Eadulf seized a short sword from a nearby warrior and placed its point lightly against the tanist’s midriff. He smiled apologetically.

‘Aequo animo,’ he said softly, advising the man to be calm. ‘Aequam servare mentem.’

‘This affront cannot be tolerated,’ growled Accobrán, but he made no other movement.

Becc was looking on in confusion. ‘We must hear more than accusations, Fidelma.’

‘Oh, so you shall. I am not sure how long Accobrán, Gobnuid and Brother Dangila have been working an old mine on the Thicket of Pigs.’

Gobnuid, still seated, groaned and placed his head in his hands.

‘Can you prove this?’ demanded Becc.

‘I have witnesses to all I say. And when I went to explore the mine, I found a missing piece of an Aksumite crucifix that Brother Dangila had dropped there. When I had previously taxed him with its loss, he told me he had left it in the dormitory of the abbey. But I found it in the mine. Brother Solam will bear testimony that he has seen Accobrán and Dangila going by wagon to the mine. Menma and Brother Eadulf have seen Dangila outside the mine and also Gobnuid. Earlier, I had also witnessed them together with Eadulf.’

She turned back to Brother Dangila with raised eyebrows in silent interrogation. The tall Aksumite seemed to have slumped a little in his seat. But Becc interrupted again.

‘You are accusing Accobrán and this stranger, who hardly speaks our language, of collusion? In what language could they have conducted such subterfuge?’

Fidelma smiled easily. ‘Did you not know that Accobrán spoke Greek, Becc? He was some years studying for the Faith in the house of Molaga and learnt a basic Greek. I learnt that the second day I was here when your tanist started to recite some Greek poetry. Anyway, Brother Dangila, what do you have to say to the charge?’

The tall man raised his eyes to her. ‘During the course of conversation at the house of Molaga, Accobrán found out that I had once been a surveyor in the gold mines of my own land. He told me that he thought he had discovered some gold in his own territory, a place where there had been rich mines until not so long ago. He said he knew a little of how to recognise gold…’

‘That I can confirm,’ nodded Fidelma. ‘When we were in Bébháil’s bothán I chanced to pick up a gold rock and remark on it. Accobrán was knowledgeable enough to glance at it and assure me that it was fool’s gold. He seemed relieved by the fact.’

‘But he did not know enough to follow a seam and mine it from a rock face,’ continued Brother Dangila. ‘He asked me if I would survey it and find out whether the seam would yield riches or simply wither after a short while. For this I was offered a quarter of everything that could be extracted. I believed that this mine belonged to him.’

Fidelma raised her hands, palms outwards, to still the crowd, which had begun to mutter in astonishment.

‘Do not leave us, Gobnuid,’ she called, espying the smith, who had risen and was heading towards the doors. ‘You probably received another quarter, didn’t you?’

Rough hands pushed Gobnuid forward to the front of the crowd.

‘I’ve done nothing,’ he said in surly fashion.

‘On the contrary. I feel that you have done much,’ retorted Fidelma. ‘There is no need to tell you how rich the lands of the Cinél na Áeda were in mines and how a generation or more ago those mines were worked out. Along came a ruthless young warrior. An intelligent warrior, who had once studied in the Faith. He found a cave on the Thicket of Pigs in which he saw gold. He saw a plan to get personally rich and powerful instead of sharing his find with his people. He found a smith who would mine and transport the gold to traders on the river and he found a mine surveyor so that he and the smith knew what seams to follow.’

She paused for a moment.

‘I saw Gobnuid not so long ago driving a wagon which he said was loaded with hides sent by Accobrán for traders on the lower river. Hides? The wheels of the wagon were rutted so deeply in the track that the weight must have been considerable. From such a wagon a gold nugget fell on the track near the Ring of Pigs which was picked up by a boy called Síoda. Innocently, the boy took it to Gobnuid who sought to persuade him that it was only fool’s gold. But it was not, was it, Gobnuid?’

Gobnuid hung his head, flushing, confirming the truth of her words.

‘The trouble was that Accobrán gave the game away when he went to the sea port looking for a pliant captain to help transport the gold out of this territory. He made a mistake in sending some samples of his prospective cargo with the captain of a trading ship. That man was in the country of the Uí Fidgente when fate overtook him. He was dying and confessed the source of the nuggets he had to a warrior named Dea. But all he managed to tell Dea was that the rich source was on the Thicket of Pigs. He did not know where the mine was but he knew that a hunter lived at that place, a hunter called Menma. He suggested to Dea that the hunter must know. Menma did not. However, Dea had joined a host commanded by his brother Conrí who were going to the lands of the Corco Loígde for the annual games.

‘Dea and his band of warriors, without the knowledge or permission of Conrí, raided Menma’s cabin in search of him. You already know what transpired. They took Suanach as a hostage to force Menma to follow them.

‘They did not realise that they would be pursued by Cinél na Áeda warriors led by the very man who was the source of the gold. Accobrán realised that the merchant had betrayed his gold find to the Uí Fidgente. He did not know details, of course. When he chased them, he had one thing on his mind. He resolved that no one among the raiders should live to breathe a word of their purpose. That is why he killed them all.’

There was a gasp from those assembled.

‘Menma and Suanach will testify that the Uí Fidgente were not given a chance to surrender.’

Becc was sitting back with a combination of sadness and anger on his features. ‘A tanist takes oath to pursue the commonwealth of his people. I have become increasingly aware that Accobrán’s actions are questionable. I have made the excuse that he is young and untutored in the code of chieftainship. But this…? This is against law and morality. This is an evil betrayal of the trust of the Cinél na Áeda.’

‘There is more,’ went on Fidelma. ‘I happened to question Gobnuid the smith about the gold nugget that Síoda had found. He panicked and thought I was on to the secret of the mine in the cave. He tried to arrange an accident without consulting Accobrán. The next morning, Eadulf and I had climbed onto the watchtower at the gates of the rath. Gobnuid joined us, saying that he had a message from Accobrán. He had loosened a rung of the ladder. When we started to go down it was sheer luck that Eadulf, who went first, did not fall to his death when the rung gave way.

‘Subsequently, Accobán must have assured Gobnuid that we were too concerned with the deaths of the three girls to bother about the gold mine. It was a stupid mistake, for Gobnuid had now alerted me to the connection.’

The tanist was standing silently, still covered by Eadulf’s sword. Fidelma had already motioned a warrior to take charge of Gobnuid.

‘Cousin Becc, your tanist has betrayed you and the office of trust that he held among you. Avarice! When all the sins are old, avarice will remain young. It is the oldest and the strongest of motives for evildoers.’

Becc leaned forward with an angry frown. ‘Are we to take it that Accobrán and his conspirators were responsible for the killings of the three young girls? Had they discovered his secret and were their deaths a means to still their tongues?’

Fidelma answered in the negative. ‘In that matter, Lesren was actually correct in his charge.’

The youth, Gabrán, leapt from his seat and struggled to reach the door through the crowd. It took a moment for the people to recover from their shock. Two men caught and held him while Fínmed, the boy’s mother, started to scream and wail in hysterical desperation.

‘How can that be?’ gasped Becc. ‘He was cleared by my Brehon Aolú, and even you said…’

‘You were all wrong about Gabrán,’ replied Fidelma firmly.

Fínmed fell to silently sobbing, while Goll had risen and moved forward to the dais. His face was filled with shock and growing anger.

‘You are wrong, Sister Fidelma. You are wrong. We protest against this prejudice…you…’

‘If you are silent awhile, Goll, I will explain.’

Her voice was quiet but commanding. When the murmuring of the crowd in the hall died away, Fidelma began.

‘It is true that Gabrán and Beccnat were going to get married. But it is also true, exactly as Lesren claimed, that Beccnat had changed her mind.’ Fidelma turned to where Lesren’s widow Bébháil was sitting next to Tómma, her head hung low. ‘Now that Lesren is no longer a threat to you, Bébháil, perhaps you will tell us the truth of what happened?’

The woman raised her head slowly. ‘You already know what sort of character Lesren was and why he did not want our daughter to associate with Gabrán. That much is certainly true.’ She paused and licked her lips. ‘It is also true that Gabrán wooed our daughter and they did, indeed, plan to get married. They used to meet regularly and they went to Liag’s place for his instruction, more from the opportunity to use it as a meeting place than a real interest in star lore.’

Liag, the apothecary snorted in disgust but Bébháil went on.

‘Lesren also spoke the truth when he said that Beccnat had decided not to marry Gabrán…’

‘Lies!’ shouted the boy, struggling between the two men who held him. ‘Becc, you have dealt with this before and dismissed the case against me. It is lies.’

‘It is the truth as Beccnat told me,’ insisted Bébháil quietly.

‘What caused her decision?’ asked Fidelma.

‘She heard that Gabrán had been seeing Escrach in secret. He had told Escrach that he was only pursuing Beccnat because he wanted to avenge himself on Lesren for what Lesren had done to his mother.’

‘Who told Beccnat this?’

‘It was Escrach herself, who was horrified at the idea, and as Beccnat was a friend had decided to warn her quietly. But Escrach was, at the same time, in love with Gabrán and could not denounce him openly nor desert him. She merely thought to warn Beccnat about him. Beccnat decided to break with the boy and, in truth, she was already finding consolation with the tanist there.’

Eyes once more turned on Accobrán, still held covered by Eadulf’s short sword.

‘We have already heard from a witness that Accobrán and Beccnat were meeting and behaving as lovers. Gabrán also displayed a hate of the tanist because he suspected him of having some affair with Beccnat,’ said Fidelma.

Goll stared at her in anguish. ‘But this does not mean to say that Gabrán killed Beccnat. The Brehon Aolú showed that he could not.’

Fidelma smiled quickly.

‘I will come to that. So now,’ she said, turning to the people in the hall who remained as if mesmerised by her, ‘we have the seeds of a first motive. The terrible feud between Lesren and Fínmed, which grew into the hatred of Fínmed’s son for Lesren and his desire for vengeance. If not directly on Lesren then on his daughter, Beccnat. From then on, there came cause and effect.’

She turned and sought the tanner’s assistant. ‘Creoda, stand forth for a moment.’

The youth came reluctantly to his feet.

‘You were attending sessions with Liag when he taught you about star lore.’

‘I have told you so,’ the young man said nervously.

‘Now tell me again, who were in these sessions with you?’

‘Beccnat and Gabrán, Escrach and Ballgel, and sometimes Accobrán came along.’

‘These sessions, did they usually take place at night?’

‘Of course. When else can you see the stars?’

‘Just so. Cast your mind back to the night of the full moon two months ago.’

‘You mean the time when Beccnat’s body was found?’

‘I mean just that. Did you have a session then?’

‘We did.’

‘Who was there?’

‘Only Escrach, Ballgel and myself.’

‘Were there any nightly sessions after that?’

‘A few.’

‘And can you confirm that at these sessions, after Beccnat’s death, you saw Escrach and Gabrán quite friendly towards each other and so confirm what Bébháil has reported to us?’ When the youth confirmed it, Fidelma went on: ‘Indeed, I think we can accept that there was close friendship between Escrach and Gabrán. Until Gabrán found out that he — according to his warped reasoning — had been betrayed to Beccnat by Escrach. Whether it took him some time to find out or whether Beccnat had told him before he killed her, we will have to leave it to him to tell us or not. I think he deliberately chose the night of the next full moon to arrange to meet Escrach at the Ring of Pigs, near where he had killed Beccnat, and there he slaughtered her in the same way.’

She glanced at the angry and pale-faced youth. If looks could kill, she would have long been dead.

‘Gabrán had nursed his hate for some time and I think by this time his reasoning had deserted him. He became filled with Liag’s stories of the power of the moon and the knowledge that is power. Maybe the terrible thing he had done to Beccnat had unbalanced his mind and that was what made him wait until the full of the moon for his second killing.’

‘And the third killing?’ questioned Becc, rousing himself like some somnambulant. ‘Why would he kill Ballgel? You are not saying that he also had some affair with Ballgel?’

‘That is not so!’ shouted Sirin the cook in protest from the side of the hall. ‘I would have known it.’

‘The death of poor Ballgel. Even that killing, at the next full of the moon, had a motive. Ballgel was the third of the three girls, three friends, who had been close to one another and studied star lore. Maybe Gabrán suspected that what Escrach had told Beccnat she might also have mentioned to Ballgel. Perhaps Beccnat herself might have said something to her. He knew that the three of them, as young girls do, shared secrets. Creoda told us that the girls were, in his words, “thick as thieves and no secret safe with any of them but was shared between them”. Gabrán had to be sure that no secret knowledge remained outside his own. He decided to kill her as well.’

A deep, collective sigh seem to resonate throughout the hall.

‘If you asked my opinion, I would be hard pressed to judge such a person as Gabrán in terms of his responsibility in law,’ Fidelma added. ‘Is he truly a dásachtach, a person of unsound mind, who is unable to plead in law? Do not forget our law is concerned not only to protect society from the insane but also to protect the insane from society. I suspect I would consider that he started out as a fer lethchuinn, a person who under our law is only half sane.’

‘You have been very clever, Sister Fidelma,’ sneered Goll. ‘You have almost made the people here believe your story.’

‘Everything I have said is based on the evidence as it has been told me,’ Fidelma assured him. ‘Surely you wanted the truth? You yourself were not sure about your son. That’s why you were following him when you encountered Brother Dangila and Gabrán on the Thicket of Pigs the other day.’

The shot went home. Pale-faced, Goll sat back. Then Fínmed rose, having calmed herself. She spoke steadily.

‘Yet there is one thing that you have forgotten in spite of your cleverness, Sister Fidelma. That is the very thing that has shown my son to be innocent of Beccnat’s murder, and so every other accusation that you have made against him falls. It is the very point by which the Brehon Aolú judged Gabrán innocent, and under that judgement he cannot be tried again.’

‘Before you go further,’ Fidelma replied gently, ‘Aolú did not find Gabrán innocent. He looked at the evidence and said that there was none to charge Gabrán with the crime. Under law, he has not been tried. So my arguments may still stand in court.’

‘Clever, dálaigh!’ the woman replied triumphantly. ‘But too clever. You have forgotten the crucial point of the evidence. Gabrán was not in this territory on the night of the full moon. He was at the house of Molaga. We have the evidence of Accobrán the tanist who was at the same place and I am sure you have already checked with Brother Túan, steward of Molaga, when he was visiting our abbey. This evidence proves my son was not in the territory when Beccnat died.’

Fínmed sat down, staring at Fidelma with a look of victory. There was a momentary quiet in the hall. Then Accobrán slapped his thigh with a laugh.

‘You are checkmated there, dálaigh! Too clever by half! I can vouch for what Fínmed has said in spite of my dislike for Gabrán. He was in Molaga on the night of that full moon.’

Eyes turned expectantly on Fidelma, but she did not seem to be perturbed.

‘Along with everyone else, I am guilty of overlooking a crucial point here,’ Fidelma confessed quietly. ‘It is good that it falls to Fínmed, Gabrán’s mother, to bring it forward.’

Accobrán was still chuckling and even Goll was smiling in relief and turning to his son as if to congratulate him.

‘The crucial point is that Beccnat was not murdered on the night of the full moon.’ Fidelma’s sharp voice caused everyone to be still. ‘That fact has made me reason that Gabrán was not initially a moon maniac when he started these killings, even if he developed the tendency afterwards.’ She turned to Liag the apothecary. ‘You examined the bodies, Liag. Do you remember our very first conversation when I asked you about that?’

The old apothecary stood up and nodded suspiciously. ‘I do.’

‘You told me that Beccnat’s body had been found on the morning after that night of the full moon.’

‘I did.’

‘So?’ interrupted Accobrán. ‘That would mean she was killed during that night — the night of the full moon.’

‘I asked you why it was that you had guided people away from the initial idea that the savage onslaught on her had been made by some wild animal,’ went on Fidelma, ignoring him. ‘What did you tell me? Can you remember your words?’

Liag thought for a moment. ‘I said that once I examined the body, it was clear that a jagged knife had been used. It had been difficult to examine the wounds at first.’

‘Exactly, and why?’

‘I told you that it was difficult to see beyond the dried blood, and there was some decomposing for the body must have lain out in the woods for two or three days.’ His eyes widened as he realised what he was saying.

Fidelma turned to the hall. ‘Two or three days! That is what everyone was overlooking. The body had been found on the morning after the full moon but Beccnat had been killed two or three days beforehand.’ She swung round to Bébháil. ‘Lesren told me, and you confirmed it, that Beccnat had gone out one night to tell Gabrán that she was ending the betrothal and that was the last you saw of her until her body was found three days later.’

Bébháil looked shocked. ‘It is true. I had not thought…’

‘So where did you think that she had been for that time?’

‘She often went to stay with friends after rows with her father. We thought she might have gone somewhere with one of her girl friends. I don’t know. Everyone said she was killed on the night of the full moon and we did not question it. The question of where she had been before that did not occur to us once she was dead.’

Fidelma had turned back to Fínmed with a sad expression. Then she looked directly at Goll.

‘When I first spoke to you and your son, I asked Gabrán in your hearing when he had last seen Beccant and he gave one of his few honest answers — he said it was about two days before the full of the moon.’

Goll was standing with his shoulders hunched, tired and defeated as the truth dawned on him. Fínmed was sobbing silently again.

‘Just confirm for me one other thing that you told me, Goll,’ Fidelma said gently. ‘Was it your idea or Gabrán’s that he go to the house of Molaga a day before the full moon following the feast of Lughnasa?’

Goll raised haggard features to face her. ‘You know the answer well enough, Sister. It was he who suggested that he take the goods that day.’

Fidelma turned back to where Gabrán was still being held under restraint.

‘A killer influenced by the moon?’ she mused sadly. ‘Not in the case of Beccnat. The murder was coldly and cunningly planned. Having killed Beccnat, he made for Molaga to establish an alibi. He even started the story of the moon killer, for Adag told us that he had pointed out this fact to Aolú, the Brehon, when being questioned following Lesren’s accusation. It was only later, with the second murder, that Liag pointed out it had been committed on the night of the next full moon.’

The youth regarded her calmly. He even smiled.

‘I am avenged and have come to power. Knowledge is power and I have the knowledge.’ He intoned the words like a priest giving a blessing before beginning to giggle hysterically. At a gesture from Becc, he was led away.