Master of Souls

CHAPTER NINE

E adulf and Conri arrived in search of Fidelma just as Sister Sinnchene had made her accusation. They stood hesitantly at the door. Eadulf knew better than to react at the words and he caught the warlord’s eye and shook his head to indicate that he should not enter the conversation either.

Fidelma was examining the girl thoughtfully and ignored their entry.

‘And what is the basis of your claim?’ she asked quietly.

Sister Sinnchene sniffed. It seemed that this was her habit in times of stress.

‘I do not know what you mean,’ she replied.

‘What evidence do you have?’

‘What need of evidence? It is obvious.’

Fidelma was patient. ‘Perhaps it is not so obvious to me. Let us go through your reasoning behind this accusation. Is it because of your relationship with Cinaed? The fact that Sister Buan disliked you and you disliked Sister Buan.’

‘Sister Buan knew of our relationship. Cinaed and I told her. We told her what we wanted. She refused us and was angry. She hated me and she must have hated Cinaed. She killed Cinaed in her jealousy.’

‘Jealousy? Surely the most likely victim of her jealousy would be you, if Cinaed were rejecting her for you?’

‘The woman is spiteful; spiteful enough to vent her feelings on Cinaed.’

‘She must have been a powerful woman to deliver such a stroke as crushed his skull, as the physician has reported.’

Sister Sinnchene laughed shortly.

‘She is strong, that one. And Cinaed was elderly and frail.’

Fidelma shook her head sadly.

‘Accusations without evidence are not valid. What you are telling me is that you suspect Sister Buan’s involvement but have no proof. In which case, Sister, I should remind you to watch how you express that suspicion. The Din Techtugad warns that spreading false stories, satirising a person unjustly and giving false testimony is an offence that results in the loss of one’s honour-price.’

Sister Sinnchene scowled.

‘Law!’ She made it sound like a dirty word.

‘The law is there for the protection of everyone,’ replied Fidelma. ‘I simply warn you to be careful with the words you choose.’

She turned and seemed to notice Eadulf and Conri at the half-open door for the first time.

‘Conri, could you or one of your men find Brother Cu Mara and ask him to come here?’

The warlord nodded without speaking and left.

Fidelma smiled at Eadulf.

‘We will catch up on matters shortly,’ she said, but before she could elaborate further Conri re-entered with the rechtaire.

‘He was just passing outside,’ the warlord explained, ‘so I did not have to search far.’

‘You wanted to see me, lady?’ asked Brother Cu Mara, glancing with a frown from Sister Fidelma to Sister Sinnchene and back again.

Fidelma nodded and gestured for the steward to seat himself on a stool, which she placed beside Sister Sinnchene’s. She reseated herself facing them. There was strategy in Fidelma’s indicating where he should sit. Seated alongside one another, the two would find eye contact difficult and so it would be impossible to pick up any warning expression from the other.

‘I need to ask you for your comments on a conversation that has been reported to me,’ she began, looking at the rechtaire. ‘A conversation between you and Sister Sinnchene.’

The steward frowned.

‘And this conversation?’

‘It took place before the death of the Venerable Cinaed.’

‘And?’

‘Sister Sinnchene wondered whether a certain secret had been revealed by Cinaed to Abbess Faife. You responded that it could not be a coincidence that the body of the abbess was found at a certain spot. What was

Brother Cu Mara’s face reddened as he turned back to her.

‘I was trying to recall…’

‘You don’t recall that conversation?’ Fidelma smiled. ‘Sister Sinnchene does.’

‘I do recall it,’ he finally admitted. ‘But it was some time ago.’

‘It was after Abbess Faife was found and before Cinaed was killed. Not that long ago.’

Brother Cu Mara’s features relaxed in a smile.

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘I remember now. You may have learnt that the Venerable Cinaed and Abbess Faife sometimes worked together?’

Fidelma waited silently.

‘I think that Sister Sinnchene had discovered that Cinaed was working on a denouncement of the claims of Eoganan who led the Ui Fidgente against-’

Fidelma interrupted him with a motion of her hand.

‘This work was completed and placed in the tech-screptra some time ago. What of it?’

‘Did you know that Eoganan had two sons?’

‘We did.’

‘One of the sons, Torcan, was killed at the time that Eoganan led the Ui Fidgente in battle against Cashel. But he had another son-’

Eadulf broke in impatiently.

‘Uaman the Leper who called himself Lord of the Passes around Sliabh Mis.’

Brother Cu Mara glanced at him in surprise.

‘Go on,’ snapped Fidelma with an irritated glance at Eadulf. ‘What of Uaman?’

‘Cinaed heard word that a month or so ago Uaman was reported killed, his fortress burnt and his followers dispersed.’

Fidelma shot Eadulf a warning glance in case he interrupted again.

‘What has this to do with my question?’ she demanded.

‘Cinaed had heard rumours that Uaman’s followers were still active, trying to raise support for a new movement against Cashel. As Sister Sinnchene would have told you, Cinaed confided this to Sister Sinnchene and said he was keeping this a secret until he could discover more.’

‘And so what was the meaning of the conversation?’ prompted Fidelma.

‘Simple,’ answered the rechtaire. ‘When we had news of the Abbess Faife’s death and where her body had been found, Sister Sinnchene wondered if the Venerable Cinaed had told her that Uaman’s followers might have continued their activities before she left for the land of the Corco Duibhne. Had he asked her to make inquiries? That is what was meant.’

‘And your reply?’

‘I thought he must have told her for I did not think it coincidence that her body had been found almost opposite the island where the ruins of Uaman’s fortress stood.’

Fidelma turned to Sister Sinnchene.

‘And you agree with this account?’

The young girl nodded quickly.

Fidelma thrust out her lower lip slightly in thought.

‘There are a couple of things that worry me, though…’ she said slowly.

‘A question for you, Brother Cu Mara: why did you think that the Venerable Cinaed would confide such secret information in Sister Sinnchene?’

The rechtaire stirred uncomfortably.

‘Why, because of her… her…’

‘Her relationship with the Venerable Cinaed?’ supplied Fidelma.

Brother Cu Mara nodded quickly.

‘A relationship that you neglected to inform me of when I spoke to you earlier,’ observed Fidelma heavily.

The young man’s face reddened.

‘I did not think it my place to tell you…’

‘Whose place did you think it was?’ snapped Fidelma. ‘When a dalaigh conducts an inquiry no relevant information should be withheld from her.’ She turned quickly to the young girl. ‘And then I am worried by the fact that you say Cinaed told you this secret. As soon as you heard of the abbess’s death, why did you not ask him, in view of your special relationship, whether he had confided also in the Abbess Faife and whether he thought the death relevant?’

The girl seemed at a loss for words and floundered helplessly in an attempt to articulate some form of reply.

‘It… it did not occur to me until I was speaking to Brother Cu Mara.’

‘And why did it come up then?’ went on Fidelma relentlessly. ‘It seems strange that you did not discuss this with your lover, of whom it was an intimate concern, but you could discuss this with the rechtaire of the

Sister Sinnchene loosed a quiet sob and her hand reached out to find that of an embarrassed Brother Cu Mara.

Fidelma noticed the movement and suddenly relaxed with a grim smile.

‘I understand,’ she said quietly.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment and then, to Eadulf’s surprise and Conri’s bewilderment, she said to the rechtaire and the young girl: ‘That will be all for now. You may go.’

As bewildered as Conri they rose hesitantly. As they did so the light from the candles that had now been lit flickered on the sleeve and front of the robe that Brother Cu Mara was wearing. Little pinpricks of light danced on it. Fidelma frowned and reached out to touch the robe. She felt the hard granular objects between her fingertips.

She glanced inquisitively.

‘I deduce that you have been leaning on Sister Uallann’s workbench recently.’

Brother Cu Mara frowned.

‘I have not been in her apothecary since I took you there,’ he replied firmly.

Fidelma’s eyes widened a fraction before she motioned them to leave. Brother Cu Mara and Sister Sinnchene made their way out of the tech-nigid without another word.

Eadulf turned to Fidelma as the door closed but even as he began to open his mouth she shook her head, knowing what was in his mind.

‘The art of a good interrogation is to know when to stop pushing,’ she told him. ‘When to know the moment to allow a space of uncertainty to occur. Often people continue to ask questions when it merely strengthens the suspect. Uncertainty can often work more upon the fears of the suspect than bludgeoning them into forming replies that strengthen their position. But tell me what you make of this?’

She sprinkled half a dozen minuscule grains into the palm of his hand. He went to hold it by the light of the candle.

‘Just ground stone,’ he said after a while. ‘You might pick this up on a beach where the seas grind the stones down into such fine specks. I think it is called corundum.’

Fidelma brushed the rest of the grains from her hands. ‘It is probably of no importance.’

Eadulf walked to the stool that the rechtaire had vacated and slumped down.

‘I think that you had best bring us up to date on your interrogation of Sister Sinnchene,’ he suggested quietly.

Briefly, but without leaving out any of the relevant points, Fidelma gave them an account of her exchange with Sister Sinnchene.

‘If they were lovers, I think we can rule out Sinnchene as a killer,’ Eadulf finally commented.

Fidelma immediately shook her head.

‘There is much power in that word “if”, Eadulf. Certainly one of the two is not being entirely truthful.’

‘But which one? Sister Buan or Sister Sinnchene?’

‘There are inconsistencies in both their accounts,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘But I am more suspicious of Sinnchene at the moment. Did you see the way she reached out for Brother Cu Mara in a moment of stress?’

Eadulf shook his head.

‘I was too busy watching Cu Mara’s face to see if he was lying. I do not think he was being honest.’

‘Those two have something to hide. I think that the good Sister Sinnchene has found another lover with status in this abbey.’

Conri looked shocked.

‘You mean that while she was supposed to be having some affair with the Venerable Cinaed, she was also having an affair with the rechtaire?’

Fidelma smiled cynically.

‘Such liaisons are not entirely unknown. However, this relationship with Brother Cu Mara may have started after Cinaed’s death. Remember the girl is young, emotional and probably needs someone for support.’

‘But-’

‘We have to move on. If the weather is fair tomorrow we sail for the land of the Corco Duibhne. I would like some resolution to this matter before that time. However, I suspect that we will not get it. I have a strange feeling that it is all connected. To disentangle such a mystery, you have to find a path to follow. It is like unravelling a ball of string. You take a piece and pull and hopefully you are able to follow it to the end so that the ball falls apart. I don’t think that we have found the right piece of string to unwind yet. Perhaps we should visit this fortress of Uaman the Leper?’

Conri was shaking his head. ‘We have only the girl’s word for these

Eadulf was in agreement. ‘As I recall, Uaman had only a few men with him and they were slain by Gorman. We let one of Uaman’s warriors go free for he surrendered and could do no harm to us. I saw the local people rise up and torch Uaman’s fortress. So Abbess Faife died within sight of that ruined pile. What does that prove? Certainly Uaman had followers but not many. None of them could be intent on leading a new plot to destroy Cashel.’

‘I think Brother Eadulf and I speak as one here, lady,’ Conri. agreed. ‘There can be no more Ui Fidgente plots. We will argue our case against Cashel under law but not by force of arms. You have our chieftain’s word on that.’

‘Because you and 1 agree, Conri,’ she replied, ‘because your leader Donennach and Colgu my brother have agreed a treaty, it does not mean to say that others agree. Peace is kept by vigilance. Do you know the aphorism of Vegetius — si vis pacem para bellum?’

‘If you want peace, prepare for war,’ muttered Eadulf. ‘It sometimes can be misinterpreted to justify a kingdom’s making itself powerful and then asserting its own terms of peace over its neighbours. The Pax Romana, for example, was nothing but the peace dictated by the strength of the Roman army.’

Fidelma was impatient. ‘Anyway, it is scarcely the time for philosophy and semantics. I merely say that one should not blind oneself to possibilities just because one wants to believe in the good of others. We must be watchful.’

‘Very well, but does that help us now? Remember it is my aunt of whom we speak. Abbess Faife was of the nobility of the Ui Fidgente opposed to the continuation of the conflict with Cashel.’

‘I am not forgetting that fact, Conri.’

Conri blinked at her sharp tone.

‘I have other business to conduct with the abbot so I will meet you at the evening meal,’ he said shortly and left.

After the door had closed on him, Eadulf glanced at Fidelma.

‘I think he is irritated,’ he ventured.

‘I don’t doubt it,’ replied Fidelma gravely but a smile played at the corners of her mouth.

Eadulf was puzzled for a moment.

‘You wanted him to leave?’ he said accusingly.

She leant forward. ‘Eadulf, I need to speak to certain people and I do not want Conri. in attendance, especially if it turns out that there is some Ui Fidgente plot brewing again.’

‘But you have often pointed out that Conri. is on our side,’ protested Eadulf.

‘And if that is true, don’t you think that he would be putting himself in danger if what I suspect is correct? Better that he keep out of the affair until I get more information.’

She rose and went to the door.

‘Where now?’ asked Eadulf wearily, as he joined her.

‘We shall have another word with the physician, Sister Uallann.’

They were passing the tech-screptra when a young religieux came running from it, his hair dishevelled, his breath coming in sobs. He nearly ran into them but Eadulf grasped him by the arm.

‘You are in a terrible hurry, Brother…’ he began.

The young man, who had his head down as he was hurrying, looked up. It was the young library assistant, Brother Faolchair. He was clearly upset.

‘Sorry. I… I…’ he began to stammer, not able to form words.

Fidelma gave the boy a look of encouragement.

‘What is it that makes you upset?’

He focused wide eyes on her with an expression of distress.

‘My work, Sister. My work — ruined.’

‘Your work?’

‘I have just returned to the library and found all my copying work ruined, the book I was copying from…’

Fidelma was suddenly very still.

‘You were copying a book by the Venerable Cinaed, weren’t you?’ she said sharply.

The boy nodded.

‘I was. The book has vanished. I went to the shelves to see if someone had replaced it. All the books of the Venerable Cinaed had been swept off the shelves. Sister, they have been burnt.’

Fidelma glanced at Eadulf and turned back to the boy.

‘All the books? Burnt? How do you know that?’

‘I saw that the fire was black and smoking and something drew me to it. I saw that books had been piled on the fire and had been destroyed but for a few pages.’

‘All the books of the Venerable Cinaed?’ repeated Eadulf. ‘No other books?’

‘All those of the Venerable Cinaed only, the ones that we had in our library,’ confirmed the boy. ‘I am just going in search of Brother Eolas to tell him.’

‘Then there was no one else in the library?’

‘The library was closed for an afternoon service in the oratory. Brother Eolas and I had to attend. I did not return to the library until a short time ago.’

‘You are certain that no other works were destroyed apart from those of the Venerable Cinaed?’

The boy looked woeful.

‘None, Sister. Now there is no work of the Venerable Cinaed surviving in our library. It is disaster. Nothing left. We will have to seek copies from other libraries and then we cannot replace them all, for some were unique to this place.’ He hesitated.

‘Except?’ prompted Fidelma instinctively.

‘Nothing important. Just some notes he made which he inadvertently inserted in a copy of the Uraicecht Bec and left in it when he returned the text to the library. I only discovered them the other morning.’

Fidelma was thoughtful. The Uraicecht Bec was a law text said to have been written by the famous female judge Brig Briugaid on the rights of women. It reminded her of her promise to look up Sister Buan’s rights as a widow.

‘I would like to look at these notes later,’ she said, then seeing the boy was still distressed gave him a quick smile of encouragement. ‘Very well. You may find Brother Eolas later but let us examine the library first. Don’t worry. You shall not get into trouble.’

Led by the boy, Fidelma, followed by Eadulf, entered the still deserted library. There was certainly a smoky odour in the air and in the fireplace that heated the hall they found the evidence which Brother Faolchair had seen. Fidelma glanced at the shelves where the proud Brother Eolas had displayed the books of the Venerable Cinaed.

Eadulf rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at the empty shelves.

‘Does this have something to do with his murder?’ he asked.

‘It probably has everything to do with it,’ Fidelma replied with a soft, thoughtful smile. ‘But there is nothing we can do here except make sure that Brother Eolas does not blame the poor boy. We have to continue our investigation. Let us see the physician again.’

Sister Uallann was clearly unhappy at being disturbed. She frowned as they entered the apothecary. She sat on a stool before her work bench mixing two curious-looking liquids in a bowl from bottles she held in her hands.

‘I am busy,’ she snapped as they entered.

‘So are we,’ Fidelma replied complacently. ‘As you may recall, we are here to investigate murder. I must ask you more questions.’

Sister Uallann put down the bottles and wiped her hands, staring at Fidelma with eyes that seemed menacing.

‘And if I do not you will remind me that you are a dalaigh and I am liable to penalty if I refuse?’ Her tone was sarcastic.

Fidelma smiled brightly.

‘Something like that, Sister Uallann,’ she agreed evenly.

‘Then ask away and then be gone. I have my work to do.’

Fidelma glanced at the mixture in the bowl. Sister Uallann followed her gaze.

‘It is a drink that I am preparing for someone who has a disorder of the bladder. The main ingredient is barley, to which I am adding some seaweed that I have gathered along the coast here. I have boiled them separately in water and am now mixing them together, making sure that there is more barley than seaweed in the mix. It should ease the disorder.’

Sister Uallann sounded patronising as she described her cure.

‘Tell me, Sister Uallann,’ Fidelma said without responding, ‘what was the cause of your argument with the Venerable Cinaed on the night before he died?’

For a moment the physician looked confused.

‘Did I have an argument?’ she countered, trying to recover from her surprise.

‘Do you deny it?’

For a moment both Fidelma and Eadulf thought that she might well be on the verge of denying it. Then she shrugged.

‘It was a personal matter.’

‘Personal? A man has been murdered. Any information about why he was murdered cannot be classed as personal.’

Sister Uallann looked stubborn.

‘It is a matter that I have no wish to discuss.’

‘It is a matter that I intend you should discuss,’ snapped Fidelma.

For a moment Sister Uallann stared belligerently at her. Her chin came up in defiance.

‘Very well.’ Fidelma shrugged. ‘It is your choice. Do you wish to tell us what the cause of your altercation with the Venerable Cinaed was on that night? Or must I use the authority of the law?’

Sister Uallann pursed her lips for a moment. It made her face look ugly. Then, abruptly, she seemed to relent.

‘Venerable Cinaed was a sinner.’

Fidelma could not hide an amused look.

‘A sinner? We are all transgressors against someone or something.’

Sister Uallann was incensed.

‘As well as being a traitor to his people, he was also guilty of the sin of fornication. Of carnal lust.’

‘And therefore…?’

‘You do not appear to be shocked?’

Fidelma’s gesture was dismissive.

‘I cannot afford to be shocked. Administration of the law allows for no emotions.’

‘The Venerable Cinaed was having an affair with one of the young religieuse of the Abbess Faife.’ Sister Uallann uttered the statement as if revealing some horrifying secret.

‘I am presuming that you are referring to Sister Sinnchene?’

The physician’s expression changed rapidly from astonished to crestfallen.

‘You knew?’ She was disappointed at Fidelma’s reaction.

‘I knew.’

Sister Uallann’s mouth twisted in an ugly grimace.

‘Then you will know what my argument was about. I saw Cinaed coming from the tech-nigid. I knew whom he had been meeting there and why.’

‘And so you remonstrated with him?’

‘It was dark and well after the evening meal. As he came down the path, heading towards his own chambers, I accosted him. I pleaded with him to give up the affair otherwise I said I would be forced to inform the abbot.’

‘What did he say to that?’

‘He laughed at me… laughed!’

‘What did you expect Abbot Erc to do?’ asked Eadulf. ‘The Venerable

‘But Sister Sinnchene is. I could have had her removed from this community.’

‘Ah, so you would have her expelled?’ Eadulf observed. ‘Isn’t that rather narrow-minded? Two people were involved in this affair. But because one is vulnerable you would place all the blame on her.’

Sister Uallann flashed him a look of anger.

‘I believe that this relationship brings down shame on the abbey.’ She turned to Fidelma. ‘Are you saying that you, a dalaigh, condone it? It is illicit in the eyes of the law as well as of God.’

Fidelma inclined her head in agreement.

‘It was not lawful,’ she agreed, correcting the tense of the physician’s comment. ‘Although I have to admit some grey areas in the law. But by and large, there were grounds enough to disapprove of the Venerable Cinaed’s behaviour. So, as I said, you remonstrated with him?’

‘I did.’

‘And this was the sole cause of your argument that night?’

‘It was.’

‘And how did you and he leave one another?’

Sister Uallann frowned slightly. ‘How?’

‘Did you part in anger?’

‘We did. I accompanied him as far as his living quarters. He told me to attend to my apothecary and leave morals and philosophy to those better able to interpret them. Those were his words.’

‘When we first spoke, you made it clear that you were not exactly a friend of the Venerable Cinaed. But I did ask you specifically if you disagreed with him on matters of the Faith. I thought that you said you did not, only on his politics.’

Sister Uallann shrugged.

‘His dalliance was a matter of discipline not of faith. At the time I answered truthfully and was more concerned with his secular writings. His attack on my husband’s people, the Ui Fidgente.’

‘You are proud of the Ui Fidgente, aren’t you?’ Eadulf put in.

Sister Uallann cast him a patronising glance.

‘As you are doubtless proud of being a Saxon,’ she retorted.

‘If you need to be accurate, I am an Angle from of the land of the South Folk,’ he corrected mildly.

Sister Uallann’s smile broadened.

‘Exactly so,’ she said softly as if her point had been proved.

‘But you are not an Ui Fidgente,’ Fidelma pointed out sharply. ‘You told us before that you were raised among the Corco Duibhne.’

Sister Uallann coloured.

‘When I married my husband, God rest his soul, I became Ui Fidgente and since he was butchered at Cnoc Aine I shall remain Ui Fidgente until I join him in the Otherworld.’

‘So you were displeased with the Venerable Cinaed’s work? You saw him as a traitor.’

‘Is that wrong?’

‘Not unless the displeasure led you to a more violent form of protest.’

Sister Uallann’s mouth thinned.

‘It is no crime to be proud of one’s people nor is it a crime to disagree with scholars. Many people here disagreed with Cinaed… the Venerable Mac Faosma, for example.’

‘When you left him that night, was that the last time you saw him?’ asked Fidelma.

‘The last time until I was asked to examine his body, about which you have already questioned me.’

The physician appeared to be growing impatient. Just then a bell began to sound from the abbey’s refectory.

‘That is the announcement of the evening meal,’ Sister Uallann said with an expression of relief.

Fidelma smiled without warmth.

‘You have been most co-operative, Sister,’ she replied with a touch of sarcasm. ‘We thank you for your time.’

Followed by Eadulf, she left the apothecary leaving Sister Uallann staring moodily after them.

Outside, Fidelma gave a deep sigh as she realised it was getting late.

‘One more task, I’m afraid, Eadulf,’ she said. ‘But not one you can help me with. I have some research to do in the library.’

She left Eadulf to return to the hospitium and made her way back to the library. There was no sign of Brother Eolas but young Brother Faolchair was sweeping the ashes from the hearth, the remains of the destroyed books of Cinaed.

Fidelma smiled encouragingly in greeting.

‘Brother Eolas is in a great rage,’ moaned the youth.

‘You told him that we would take charge of the investigation?’

Brother Faolchair put his brush aside.

‘That seemed to make him even more furious and he said he would do his own investigation. He’s taken himself to bed and left me to clean the library and get rid of the soot that clings to the books after such a fire.’

‘Well, I’ll keep you company for a while. I want to look up a law book — the Cain Lanamna, if you have it.’

‘Indeed we do.’ The boy paused. ‘Oh, and didn’t you want to see Cinaed’s notes? They were just a few sentences about law.’

‘I’d nearly forgotten,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘The notes were brought back with another text, weren’t they? The Uraicecht Bec?’

Within moments the boy had brought her both the books and the single page of notes. Fidelma looked at the scrawl. She was slightly bewildered to see that Cinaed had been copying notes about the position of a woman known in law as the banchormarbae — the female heir. There was a reference from the Uraicecht Bec pointing out that it was permissible under law that, if there was no eligible and suitable male inheritor of a chiefship, a woman could claim the position. Fidelma knew that in the history of the five kingdoms only one woman had successfully claimed the High Kingship and that was many centuries ago when Macha of the Red Tresses had become, according to the bards, the seventy-sixth monarch to rule at Tara. Of course, there had been some provincial rulers who were female and several rulers of clans, but usually a derbhfine, the electoral college, preferred a male and it was a poor family where, out of the living generation of males, there was no suitable candidate. Only a strong-minded woman could succeed to such a position. She wondered why Cinaed would be interested in the subject. But then he was a scholar and why not?

She turned to the Cain Lanamna which was one of the major texts on marriage and the rights of women under the laws of marriage and swiftly found what she was looking for.

She made some mental notes and went to return the books to Brother Faolchair. She found the young assistant librarian exhausted in a chair in the corner. His eyes were closed, but on feeling her presence he started awake, looking guilty.

‘If I were you, I’d close up the library for tonight and return to finish in the morning when you have had some rest,’ she advised.

The boy nodded slowly.

‘I am exhausted, Sister Fidelma,’ he confessed.

She was about to leave when, on an impulse, she said: ‘I believe there are many in this conhospitae who really would prefer to segregate the sexes.’

The young man nodded moodily.

‘There are some who preach against mixed houses and would prefer to see Ard Fhearta as a place of male religious only, Sister,’ he admitted.

Sister Fidelma was thoughtful.

‘And the Venerable Cinaed was not one of them?’

Brother Faolchair grinned and shook his head quickly.

‘I once heard him denounce the Edicts of the Council of Nicaea in very eloquent terms,’ he replied. ‘He believed that companionship was the natural condition for men and women.’

‘The Edicts of the Council of Nicaea were not binding on all the churches of Christendom,’ pointed out Fidelma. ‘But as I recall the Council was specific in that one of the rules it issued was that a priest could not marry after ordination. And that, of course, raises a question — I have not heard that the Venerable Cinaed was ordained as a priest. Do you know if he was so ordained?’

Brother Faolchair shook his head at once.

‘The Venerable Mac Faosma was always making sneering references to the fact,’ he said. ‘Mac Faosma was ordained to conduct the sacrament.’

‘So, the rule that the Council of Nicaea wanted to impose on the priests did not apply to Cinaed,’ Fidelma said thoughtfully. ‘Tell me, Brother Faolchair, do you know how many in Ard Fhearta are ordained as opposed to merely entering the religious life — as Cinaed did in his role as a scholar?’

The assistant librarian thought for a moment.

‘Abbot Erc is ordained, of course. And, as I said, the Venerable Mac Faosma is also ordained priest as well as a scholar. Then Brother Eolas and Brother Cillin are ordained to take the Eucharist…’

‘And I presume that Abbess Faife was also ordained.’

‘And against the rule of the Council of Laodicea, so Abbot Erc argued in my hearing,’ replied the youth. ‘In honesty, Sister, I do not think he liked Abbess Faife much. He was always fond of quoting the decisions of these councils from the remote parts of Christendom.’

Sister Fidelma patted the boy on the shoulder.

‘You have been very helpful, Brother Faolchair.’ She smiled, realising that the hour was growing late and she was suddenly very tired. She would

‘I should keep the Venerable Cinaed’s note somewhere safe. It might be valuable one day,’ she advised, wishing him good night.

Brother Faolchair inclined his head and tried to stifle a yawn.

‘I will, Sister. Good night.’