Our Lady of Darkness

Chapter Ten

‘Are you the woman who was in trouble with the Brehon of Laigin, Bishop Forbassach, eh?’

The thin, reedy voice seemed vaguely familiar.

Fidelma glanced up from her breakfast to see a scrawny-looking individual leaning over her. There was no one else in the main room of the inn for she had come down to an early breakfast.

She frowned at the man’s unprepossessing appearance. He was clad in the garb of a boatman. It was a moment or two before she recognised him as the little man who had been drinking and had started to complain at having his sleep disturbed when Forbassach had burst into the inn. Yet anyone so untypical of the usual idea of a boatman she had yet to see. He was a wisp of a man, angular with long, lank brown hair. In spite of his beak of a nose, thin red lips and dark, almost fathomless eyes, it was clear that in his youth he might have been handsome; now, however, his weatherbeaten features were moulded not so much by age but by dissolute experience.

‘As you see, I am in no trouble,’ Fidelma replied shortly, returning her attention to her plate.

The boatman sat down without invitation, seemingly unabashed at her unfriendly response.

‘Don’t give me that,’ he sneered. ‘I saw what I saw last night. A Brehon does not come out in the middle of the night with a half-a-dozen warriors if there is no cause. What did you do?’ He smirked, showing a line of blackened teeth. ‘Come on, you can tell me. Why, I might even be able to help you. I have quite a lot of contacts in Fearna — influential contacts-and if you make it worth my while …’

The boatman suddenly let out a sharp exclamation, and the next moment it seemed that he was rising unwillingly from his seat, his head bent to one side. Holding him by the ear was Dego whose tight grasp was expertly applied.

‘I believe that you are annoying this lady.’ Dego’s voice was soft but menacing. ‘Perhaps you would like to move on?’

The man twisted and attempted to struggle before realising that his antagonist was a muscular young warrior. His reed-like voice rose to a wail in protest.

‘I was not insulting her. I was offering my help and-’

Fidelma waved her hand casually.

‘Let him go, Dego,’ she sighed, adding firmly to the boatman: ‘I do not want your help. Certainly, I do not wish to pay for any help that you might be offering. Now, I suggest that you follow the advice of my comrade and move on.’

Dego let go of the man’s ear and the boatman, clutching it, staggered back a step or two.

‘I will not forget this,’ he whined, keeping out of reach of Dego. ‘I have friends and you will pay for this. You think that you can get the better of me? Others have tried. They have learnt better.’

Lassar had entered to attend to Fidelma’s wants and heard the man’s complaint.

‘What has happened?’ she demanded.

Dego smiled vindictively and seated himself in the chair which the boatman had just vacated.

‘It was my mistake,’ he told Lassar with a smile. ‘I had the impression that this little man,’ he jerked at thumb at the boatman, ‘was pressing his unwanted attentions on Sister Fidelma. I have apologised for misunderstanding.’

The man had been standing rubbing his ear. He stopped when he heard her name, clearly recognising it. Fidelma wondered why.

‘I am sure this fellow accepts your apology, Dego, and has no wish to cause any more trouble,’ Fidelma said firmly.

The boatman hesitated for a moment and then jerkily inclined his head.

‘A person is entitled to make a mistake. Isn’t that the truth?’ he muttered.

Fidelma’s eyes narrowed suddenly as a memory came to her.

‘I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?’

The little man scowled. ‘No!’

‘I have it! You were in the abbey courtyard watching them take down the body of Brother Ibar.’

‘Why shouldn’t I have been? I do a lot of trade with the abbey.’

‘Do you have a morbid interest in the grotesque, or was the fate of Brother Ibar of particular interest to you?’ Fidelma asked the question out of instinct rather than logic.

Lassar, who had been standing by, puzzled at the exchange, intervened helpfully.

‘Gabrán does do a lot of trade up and down the river. Isn’t that right?’

The man merely turned and left the inn without replying to either question. Lassar smiled apologetically.

‘I think you may have hurt his feelings. If you want to know, Sister, it was one of Gabrán’s men who was killed and robbed by Brother Ibar.’

Dego grimaced towards Fidelma. ‘Did I do wrong in intervening?’

She shook her head and turned towards Lassar who was putting freshly baked bread on the table.

‘He does not look much like a boatman or river man to me, apart from his clothing.’

The big woman shrugged. ‘Yet he is a river man, Sister. He runs his own boat called the Cág, trading along the river. Now and then he stays here in the inn when he has had his fill of drink and cannot find his way back to his boat. He was here the night his man was killed.’

‘The Cág? Isn’t Jackdaw a strange name for a boat?’

Lassar was indifferent to the nuance of the name. ‘Each to their own, I say.’

Fidelma smiled shortly. ‘A wise saying. What do you know of the murder of his crewman?’

‘I know nothing at first hand.’

‘You must have heard some gossip about it, though,’ Fidelma pressed.

‘Gossip is not always truth,’ replied the woman.

‘You are right in that. Yet sometimes, prejudiced knowledge is very helpful in discovering truth. What did you hear?’

‘All I know is that the boatman was found on the quay the day following the murder of the young girl by the Saxon. A day later Brother Ibar was caught with some of the boatman’s belongings and so he was tried and convicted for the crime.’

‘Who heard the case against him?’

‘The Brehon, of course, Bishop Forbassach.’

‘Do you know if Brother Ibar ever admitted that he was guilty?’

‘Not during the trial nor afterwards, so I am told.’

‘And the evidence was that he had the belongings of this boatman on him?’

‘To confirm those facts you would have to ask someone who attended the trial. I have work to do.’

‘One moment! Would it be your brother, Mel, who was involved in catching Ibar? He was captain of the watch, wasn’t he?’

To her surprise, Lassar shook her head.

‘Mel had nothing to do with the case of Ibar. It was one of his watch, though. Daig was the man’s name.’

Fidelma considered this fact in silence and then observed softly: ‘There seems to be much death on that quay by the abbey. It seems an unhappy, dark place.’

Lassar grimaced as she picked up some dishes. ‘There is truth in that. You have met Sister Étromma and her half-wit brother, haven’t you?’

‘Cett? I have. What have they to do with it?’

‘Nothing. I mention them as an example of unhappiness. Would you believe that Sister Étromma was a descendant of the royal line of Laigin, the Uí Cheinnselaig?’

Fidelma tried to recall why it came as no surprise. She was sure that she had been told before.

Lassar grew confidential. ‘Did you know that when the Uí Néill of Ulaidh raided the kingdom when Étromma was a child, she and her brother were taken as hostages. They say that this was when Cett received a wound which has made him simple. A sad tale.’

‘Sad, indeed, but not unique,’ agreed Fidelma.

‘Ah, but what was unique was the fact that although Étromma was of the royal house, the King, Crimthann it was who ruled at that time, refused to pay the ransom money and left the two children to the tender care of the Uí Néill. Étromma’s branch of the family were poor and could not afford the ransom.’

‘What happened?’ asked Fidelma, interested.

‘After a year, Étromma and her brother managed to escape from the north and return here. I think she was very bitter. They both entered the service of the abbey. So you are right, there is much sadness there.’

Lassar gathered the dishes and left the room. Fidelma sat in thought for a moment before finally rising. Dego looked up questioningly.

‘Where to now, my lady?’ he asked.

‘I am going back to the abbey to see what further information I can pick up,’ she told him.

‘Do you think that Bishop Forbassach was right and Brother Eadulf had help to escape?’ asked Dego.

‘I think it would be hard to escape from the cell in which he wasincarcerated without any outside assistance,’ she agreed. ‘But who helped him and why is the mystery we must solve. There is one person who might have helped him and that is a chieftain called Coba. He certainly upholds the Laws of the Fénechus against the Penitentials which Fainder is so fond of. But perhaps it would not do to approach him directly just in case I have been misled. While I am at the abbey, find out what you can about Coba. Don’t make it obvious, though.’

Dego inclined his head in agreement. ‘Eadulf has done a dangerous thing, lady. Do you think he will attempt to contact us?’

‘I hope so,’ Fidelma said fervently. ‘I would want him to stand before Barrán to clear his name. Bishop Forbassach is right in that escape can be interpreted as the sign of a guilty man.’

‘Yet had he not escaped he would have been a dead man,’ Dego reminded her dryly.

For a moment Fidelma felt a surge of bitterness.

‘Do you think I have forgotten that I was helpless to aid Eadulf for all my knowledge of law?’ she snapped at the warrior. ‘Maybe I should have done what someone else has now done.’

‘Lady,’ Dego said swiftly, ‘I meant no criticism of you.’

Fidelma reached out to lay her hand on his arm.

‘Forgive my temper. I am at fault, Dego,’ she said contritely.

‘If Eadulf can avoid capture for the next few days then there is a chance that Aidan will return with Brehon Barrán,’ Dego said reassuringly. ‘If so, that retrial you wish for can be held.’

‘But if he is a free agent now, where will he go?’ mused Fidelma. ‘He might try to take ship and sail for the lands of the Saxons, back to his own country.’

‘Leave this land without telling you, lady? He would not do that now he knows that you are in Fearna.’

This did not comfort Fidelma.

‘He may not have a choice, but I hope he does not delay on my account. Rather he should take to the mountains or woods and wait until the hue and cry has abated.’ She paused, uncomfortably; a dálaigh should not be considering how best the law could be avoided. ‘Where is Enda, by the way?’

‘He went out early. I thought he said he had a mission to perform for you?’

She could not recall instructing Enda to go anywhere but she shrugged and said: ‘If I do not see you before, I will try to meet youboth back here, at the inn, sometime after noon.’

She left Dego finishing his breakfast and walked purposefully through the streets towards the abbey.

It was clear that the news of Brother Eadulf’s escape had spread in the township for, as she walked along, people glanced with undisguised interest at her, some stopping to whisper to their neighbours. Their expressions ranged from hostile to simply curious. Only once or twice did a few people express their suspicions of her by shouting abuse. She ignored them. No one in Fearna, it seemed, remained ignorant of her identity, nor of her connection with the Saxon who had been due to hang at midday.

Within her, Fidelma still felt an intensity of different emotions about the situation. She realised that if she was to achieve anything now, she must keep those emotions in check. She had to make a tremendous effort of will and sweep all sentiment from her mind. If she thought of Eadulf in any other way than someone who desperately needed her help and experience, then she could go mad with the anguish that bubbled just below the surface of her calm exterior.

At the gates of the abbey, Sister Étromma greeted her with deep suspicion.

‘You are the last person I expected to see,’ she said rudely.

‘Oh? Why so?’ demanded Fidelma innocently, as the rechtaire grudgingly let her through the gates.

‘I would have thought that you would be returning to Cashel rejoicing. The Saxon has escaped. Isn’t that what you wanted?’

Fidelma regarded her seriously.

‘What I wanted,’ she replied with heavy emphasis, ‘was that Brother Eadulf should have justice and be cleared of the charge against him. As for returning to Cashel rejoicing, I will not leave here until I find out what has happened to Brother Eadulf and, indeed, until after I have cleared his name. Escape does not absolve people before the law.’

‘Escape is better than death,’ the stewardess of the abbey pointed out, almost echoing the words of Dego.

‘There is truth in that but I would rather that he was cleared than became a fugitive, in which case any man can treat him as one who is without the law and act accordingly.’

‘Everyone in the abbey thinks that you had a hand in the escape. Did you?’

‘You are direct, Sister Étromma. No, I did not help Eadulf to escape.’

‘It will be difficult to convince people of that.’

‘Difficult or not, it is the truth. Nor am I interested in wasting time trying to convince people.’

‘Here you may find that lies win you friends but truth only begets hatred.’

‘Speaking of hatred, you do not like Abbess Fainder much, do you?’

‘It is not a requirement for a stewardess to like the abbess whom she serves.’

‘Do you like the way she governs the abbey? I refer to this business of the Penitentials.’

‘The Rule of the Abbey has been pronounced. I have to obey it. But I can see where you are leading, Sister. Do not attempt to persuade me to condemn the attitude of the abbess, nor of Bishop Forbassach. Whether punishment be by the Penitentials or by the Law of the Fénechus, remember that the Saxon was found guilty of rape and murder. For that crime, punishment under law must be made — whatever the law. Now, I am busy. There is much to be done in the abbey this day. What is the purpose of your visit?’

‘I would firstly like to see the abbess.’

‘I will be surprised if she agrees to see you.’

‘Let us put that to the test then.’

Abbess Fainder did see Fidelma. She sat behind her desk as usual, looking austere, her dark eyes suspicious.

‘Sister Étromma tells me that you have denied any knowledge of the Saxon’s escape, Sister Fidelma. You do not expect me to believe that?’ was her sharp opening remark.

Fidelma smiled softly and seated herself without being asked, conscious of the flicker of annoyance on the face of the abbess, but this time Abbess Fainder was too wise to object.

‘I do not expect you to believe anything, Mother Abbess,’ Fidelma replied calmly.

‘But you want to plead your innocence of knowledge to me?’ sneered the abbess.

‘I do not have to plead anything before you,’ Fidelma said. ‘I have come merely to seek your consent to continue to ask questions among the members of this community.’

Abbess Fainder sat back with a surprised expression.

‘For what purpose?’ she demanded. ‘You have asked all the questionsand have made your appeal to the court. The truth was known when the Saxon fled from his cell.’

‘Yesterday I did not have time to ask all the questions that I wanted to ask concerning the matter of the charges levelled against Brother Eadulf. I would like to resume today.’

For the first time Abbess Fainder looked totally bewildered.

‘You will be wasting your time. Anyway, as I understand it, Forbassach will be investigating any involvement that you might have in the Saxon’s escape. To me this escape is a clear indication of his guilt. He will be dealt with when he is caught. Those who have helped him escape will also be punished. Remember that, Sister Fidelma.’

‘I am fully aware of all the legal procedures, Mother Abbess. And until Brother Eadulf has been recaptured, I have time to resume my task. That is, unless you have something which you do not want me to discover.’

Abbess Fainder went white and was about to retort when there was a noise at the door and it opened before she could protest.

Fidelma swung round.

To her surprise, it was the thin, reedy river boatman named Gabrán who stood in the doorway. He paused and then his eyes fell on her and he looked uncomfortable.

‘I am sorry, lady,’ he muttered to the abbess. ‘I did not know you were engaged. The stewardess said you wanted to see me. I will return later.’

He left the room, closing the door, without acknowledging Fidelma.

Fidelma turned back to Abbess Fainder with a slight look of amusement on her features.

‘Now that is a fascinating thing. I have not seen a boatman with such a free run of an abbey that he may come and enter the abbess’s private chamber without knocking.’

Abbess Fainder looked embarrassed. ‘The man is a boor. He has no right to presume to enter here,’ she said after a hesitation. Her tone was not convincing. ‘Anyway, who are you to question me on such matters?’

Sister Fidelma smiled gently but did not comment.

Abbess Fainder waited for a moment and then shrugged.

‘The man trades with this abbey, that is all.’ She sounded defensive. Fidelma remained silent, sitting as if waiting for Abbess Fainder to continue.

‘Bishop Forbassach was coming to see you last night,’ began theabbess. ‘As soon as it was discovered that the Saxon had escaped, or — rather — had been helped to escape, I called for the bishop. He felt it was obvious that if the Saxon was anywhere, you would know. He seems to have missed you.’

‘He did not,’ replied Fidelma. ‘He woke me from my sleep in the middle of the night in a fruitless search for Brother Eadulf.’

Abbess Fainder’s eyes widened. She had obviously not had a report about Forbassach’s midnight call.

‘He searched your room and discovered nothing?’ She frowned uncertainly.

‘You sound surprised. No, he did not discover Brother Eadulf under my bed, if that is what you mean, Mother Abbess. Nor, if he had intelligence, would he have expected to do so. Bishop Forbassach found nothing.’

‘Nothing?’ Abbess Fainder’s tone was incredulous and she sat deep in thought as if considering the news. Then her haughty attitude seemed to collapse. She became subdued. ‘Very well; if you need to ask more questions then ask away. I am sure that everyone in this abbey suspects the identity of those who helped the Saxon escape.’

Fidelma rose casually. ‘Thank you for your cooperation, Mother Abbess. It is good to know that everyone in the abbey suspects those who helped Eadulf to escape.’

Abbess Fainder looked startled. There was a question in her eyes as she peered at Fidelma.

Fidelma decided to answer.

‘If everyone in this abbey has some idea who helped Brother Eadulf escape, then perhaps they will be able to inform me so that we can swiftly resolve this mystery. They might even know who really killed the young girl whom he was falsely accused of murdering.’

Abbess Fainder recovered her disdainful attitude.

‘In spite of everything, are you still claiming the Saxon is innocent?’

‘I will even now avow it is so.’

The abbess shook her head slowly. ‘I will say this, Sister Fidelma, you are tenacious in your faith.’

‘I am glad that you have discovered that much about me, Mother Abbess. You will also learn that I never give up until the truth has been discovered.’

‘Truth is mighty and will prevail,’ quoted Abbess Fainder sarcastically.

‘A good saying, except that it is not always true. However, it is an ideal to work for and I have spent my life doing so.’ She suddenly reseated herself and leaned forward across the table. ‘While I have the opportunity, I need to ask you some questions.’

Abbess Fainder was astonished at her change of direction. She made a gesture with her hand as if inviting Fidelma to do so.

‘I presume that Sister Fial is still missing?’

‘I have not heard that her whereabouts has been discovered. It appears that she has decided to leave the abbey.’

‘What can you tell me about Sister Fial, this mysterious young novitiate?’

Abbess Fainder grimaced in annoyance.

‘She was twelve or thirteen years old. She came from the mountains to the north of here. I believe that she said that she and Gormgilla came together to join the community here.’

‘Twelve or thirteen years is lower than the age of choice,’ pointed out Fidelma. ‘They were rather young to consider joining a community on their own. Or did their parents bring them?’

‘I have no idea. Sister Fial was very emotional, which was natural after witnessing the death of her friend. She refused to speak further other than to recount the details of the events of that night. I do not find it surprising that she has left us. She has probably returned to her home.’

Fidelma suddenly let out a cry as a thought came to her. The abbess looked startled.

‘A child under fourteen has no legal responsibilities. They must be of the age of choice.’

Abbess Fainder waited politely. Fidelma pressed the point with annoyance.

‘What this means in law is that a child of that age cannot give evidence in a court. I should have made mention of this in my appeal. All Fial’s evidence was actually not admissible in court.’

The abbess seemed amused. ‘That is where you are wrong, dálaigh. It was explained to me by Bishop Forbassach: the evidence of a young child in its own household may be used against a suspect.’

Fidelma was confused. ‘I do not understand that interpretation of the law. How can this child, Fial, possibly be in her own household?’

Fidelma was well aware of the fact that, in law, the testimony of a child below the age of maturity was allowed in certain circumstances — ifthe child gave evidence about something which had happened in their own home of which they had personal knowledge, for example. Only then was their evidence taken into account.

Abbess Fainder replied, smiling with superior knowledge: ‘This community was judged by Forbassach to be the household of its members. The child was here as a member of the community. This was her home.’

‘That is nonsense!’ snapped Fidelma. ‘That perverts the meaning of the law. She had arrived here as a novitiate and, from what has been said, was in the abbey only a few days. How was this abbey judged as her own home, her community, within the spirit of that law?’

‘Because Bishop Forbassach so judged it. I would argue this law with him and not with me.’

‘Bishop Forbassach!’ Fidelma compressed her lips in irritation. The Laigin judge had done a lot of bending of the law. The idea of an underage child giving evidence had never occurred to her until now; yet if Forbassach was willing to bend the law so much, it was no wonder he was determined to protect his previous judgments. If only Barrán had been hearing the appeal, Eadulf would have been free by now, and …

Abbess Fainder had flushed at her sneering tone.

‘Bishop Forbassach is a wise and honest judge,’ she replied protectively. ‘I have every faith in his knowledge.’

Fidelma noted the sincerity in the abbess’s voice as she defended the Brehon.

‘You seem to require the services of Bishop Forbassach often in this abbey,’ Fidelma observed quietly.

The abbess’s face, if anything, went an even deeper crimson.

‘There have been several incidents that have been disturbing to our peace in this abbey in recent weeks. Besides which, Forbassach is not only a Brehon but a bishop and has his apartments in the abbey.’

‘Forbassach lives in the abbey? I did not know that,’ acknowledged Fidelma swiftly. ‘Well, it is a curious place where several people have been killed and others are now missing. I have already presumed that this is not usual?’

Abbess Fainder ignored the irony in her voice.

‘You have presumed correctly, Sister Fidelma,’ she replied coldly.

‘Tell me about Brother Ibar.’

The abbess’s eyes hooded for a moment. ‘Ibar is dead. He has received his just punishment on the very day you arrived here.’

‘I know that he has been hanged,’ Fidelma conceded. ‘I am told he killed and robbed a boatman? I would like some details of that crime.’

Abbess Fainder was hesitant. ‘I cannot see that it has any connection with your Saxon friend,’ she said.

‘Indulge me,’ invited Fidelma. ‘I find it unusual that we have three deaths on that quay within a short space of time.’

Abbess Fainder looked shocked. ‘Three deaths?’

‘The girl Gormgilla, the boatman and then a watchman named Daig.’ The abbess frowned. ‘Daig’s death was an accident.’

Fidelma wondered why the abbess’s mouth had become slightly pinched.

‘Daig was also the member of the watch who caught Brother Ibar and who was himself later found dead.’

‘It wasn’t like that at all!’ The abbess’s voice was sharp, almost cracking.

‘I thought that I had merely stated the facts. What was it like? I would like to know.’

Again there was hesitation before the abbess spoke.

‘The boatman named Gabrán trades regularly with this abbey. That is the man who came to my door just a moment ago. It was one of his crew who was killed. I can’t remember the name of the man.’

‘That is sad,’ Fidelma commented icily.

‘Sad?’

‘That the name of a person whose death led to the execution of one of your community remains unknown.’

Abbess Fainder blinked, not knowing whether Fidelma was being sarcastic or not.

‘Sister Étromma will doubtless know the name if it matters so much to you. It is her task as rechtaire to know such things. Shall I send for her?’

‘No matter,’ replied Fidelma. ‘I can speak with her later. Continue.’

‘It is a sordid story.’

‘Unnatural death is seldom anything other than sordid.’

‘The boatman was drunk, I am told. He had been drinking at the Inn of the Yellow Mountain and was making his way back to Gabrán’s boat. It had been moored there for two days. At the quay he was struck from behind with a heavy piece of wood: his skull was smashed in. Some money and a gold chain were taken from the body by his killer.’

‘Were there any witnesses to this attack on the man?’

Abbess Fainder shook her head. ‘None actually saw the attack.’

‘Then how does Brother Ibar enter the picture?’

‘Daig was captain of the watch. He captured Ibar.’

‘Captain? Wasn’t that the position held by Mel?’

‘Fianamail had already promoted Mel to command his palace guard.’

Fidelma pondered a moment. ‘I was told the killing of the boatman happened on the next day after the death of Gormgilla?’

‘That is so. Fianamail was pleased by Mel’s prompt action and promoted him that very morning.’

‘Mel was promoted before Brother Eadulf’s trial?’ Fidelma shook her head in amazement. ‘A Brehon might interpret that as giving inducements to witnesses.’

Abbess Fainder coloured again. ‘Bishop Forbassach did not. He advised the King to promote Mel. I have noticed that several times you have impugned the morals and actions of the Brehon of Laigin. You should remember that he is a bishop of the Faith who is your superior in both creed and law. I would have a care if-’

She caught sight of the sparkle in Fidelma’s eyes, that had seemed to change colour from green to cold ice blue.

‘Yes?’ asked Fidelma quietly. ‘Yes?’

Abbess Fainder’s chin came up. ‘It seems to me unethical behaviour to attack such a respected figure as Bishop Forbassach, especially when you are not even of this kingdom.’

‘The law of the Brehons is the law regardless of which of the five kingdoms of Éireann one is in. When the High King Ollamh Fódhla first ordered the law to be gathered together nearly a millennium and a half ago, it was enacted that the laws of the Fénechus would apply to every corner of this land. When the judgment is wrong it is the duty of all, from the lowest bó-aire to the Chief Brehon of the five kingdoms himself, to demand that the errors be explained and corrected.’

Abbess Fainder’s features grew tight before the intensity in Fidelma’s voice. Wisely, she said nothing further.

‘Now,’ Fidelma said, sitting back, ‘you were saying that Mel had been promoted and Daig was now captain of the watch on the quay. How did he capture Brother Ibar? You used the word “capture”. That word implies that Brother Ibar was resisting or attempting escape.’

‘That was not the case. When the body of the boatman was discovered by Daig, Daig knew it was a crewman from Gabrán’s boat. He called Gabrán to identify the man and it was Gabrán who noticed that the goldchain, which the man usually wore, was missing, as well as some coins recently paid him in wages. Lassar, the innkeeper, gave testimony that the boatman had just left her inn with plenty of money on him. Gabrán had apparently just paid his wages in the inn. Hence the reason for the man’s drinking. It was clearly a robbery.’

‘Very well, So how did the path from the attack on the boatman, without any witnesses, lead to Brother Ibar?’

‘It was a day later that Ibar was caught. He was found trying to sell the boatman’s gold chain in the market square. The irony was that he tried to sell the chain to Gabrán himself who then called Daig, after which Ibar was arrested, charged, found guilty and hanged.’

Fidelma grew unhappy at this recital.

‘It was a stupid thing to do if Brother Ibar was guilty,’ she reflected. ‘I mean, to attempt to sell a gold chain that belonged to the victim to the very man who was his captain? Surely, if Gabrán was well-known for his trading at the abbey, Ibar would have been aware that Gabrán might recognise the chain? He would have sought out a less dangerous method of disposing of it.’

‘It is not up to me to guess what went on in Ibar’s mind.’

‘Gabrán, as you have pointed out, had been trading with this abbey for some time. How long had Brother Ibar been here?’

The abbess shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

‘I think he had been here some time. Before I came here, anyway.’

‘Then my point is valid. What did Brother Ibar say in answer to the charge?’

‘He denied everything. Both the killing and the theft.’

‘I see. How did he explain the possession of the chain?’

‘I really can’t remember.’

‘Why would Brother Ibar want money so desperately — if we accept that he did kill and rob the boatman?’

The abbess shrugged and did not reply.

‘And what happened to Daig? How did he get killed?’

‘I told you that it was an accident. He was drowned in the river.’

‘A captain of the river watch, drowned?’

‘What do you insinuate?’ demanded Abbess Fainder.

‘I am merely making an observation. How could someone qualified enough to be captain of the watch among the quays have such an accident?’

‘It was dark. I believe he slipped and fell from the quay. As he didso, he knocked his head against a wooden pile and was therefore unconscious, drowning before anyone could help him.’

‘Was there any witness to that accident?’

‘None that I am aware of.’

‘Then who told you those details?’

Abbess Fainder frowned in annoyance. ‘Bishop Forbassach.’

‘So he investigated that death as well? How long after Brother Ibar’s trial did this accident happen?’

‘How long? As I recall, Daig met his death before the trial.’

Fidelma closed her eyes for a moment. She should cease being surprised at the curiosities connected with the events at the abbey.

‘Before? Then Daig’s evidence was not presented at the trial?’

‘There was little evidence needed. Gabrán was the main witness. He was able to identify the murdered man. He told of the circumstances of the missing money and also identified the gold chain which Ibar had tried to sell him.’

‘It all seems very convenient. This Gabrán was the only one who put forward the motive of robbery for the boatman’s murder; he was the only one who claimed the items had been stolen and was the only one who then linked Brother Ibar with the crime. And, on that one man’s testimony, Brother Ibar was hanged. Doesn’t that worry you?’

‘Why should it worry me? Bishop Forbassach had no difficulties in accepting that evidence. Besides, it was not simply on Gabrán’s testimony. When Daig was told that Ibar had tried to sell the gold chain, he caused a search to be made of Ibar’s cell here in the abbey and it was there that the chain and money were found. Anyway, the matter of Ibar has nothing to do with the Saxon, Sister. What are you trying to prove? I would have thought that your duty as a dálaigh now lay in helping us try to recapture the Saxon.’

Fidelma stood up abruptly. ‘My duty as a dálaigh is to seek the truth in this matter.’

‘You have heard the facts and the facts are many.’

‘Falsehood often goes further than the truth,’ Fidelma said, remembering a comment from her mentor, the Brehon Morann.

There came the distant chiming of a bell, tolling the midday Angelus.

Abbess Fainder also rose to her feet. ‘I have duties to perform.’

‘One more question first; where might I find the chambers of Abbot Noé?’

‘Noé?’ Abbess Fainder seemed surprised at the question. ‘This is nolonger the abbot’s main residence, although he keeps an apartment here. He now has chambers in the palace of the King, but you will not find him there. He left Fearna yesterday morning for the north. He is not expected to return for a while.’

‘For the north?’ Fidelma was disappointed. ‘Do you know where he has gone?’

‘The bishop’s movements are not my concern.’

Fidelma inclined her head and left the abbess in her chamber. When she reached the small quadrangle, some instinct made her pause in the shadow of a stone recess. After a moment, the abbess emerged from her chamber and went hurrying across the quadrangle. She did not go in the direction of the chapel where the members of the community were gathering for midday prayers, but left through a side gate.

Fidelma followed at a distance. On opening the wooden gate she found it was a connecting door into another quadrangle, the very one whose gates led out onto the quay. She quickly drew back behind the gate, leaving it slightly ajar, because the abbess was in the middle of the courtyard mounting a horse. No one else was about. Then the abbess walked her horse through the gates. Fidelma was amazed that the abbess would leave her abbey when the Angelus bell was ringing, calling the community to its devotions. She wondered what was so important to draw her away.

Fidelma walked swiftly across the courtyard to the still-open gate which led onto the quays. She looked up and down but there was no sign of the abbess and her horse. Once beyond the gate, the abbess must have sent the horse into a canter, so quickly had it disappeared. However, to her surprise, Fidelma then saw Enda, on horseback, emerge from the shadow of the abbey walls and send his mount trotting along the riverbank in a leisurely fashion. He was clearly following the abbess.

A broad smile came to her face. She had almost forgotten that she had asked Dego and Enda to attempt to find out where the abbess went riding, and she had not rescinded that order. At least Enda would be able to follow and resolve the mystery.