Our Lady of Darkness

Chapter Eighteen

Dego arrived back at the boat, in the company of Coba and several of his warriors, within minutes of the surprise emergence of Fial and her pursuers. Coba suggested that everyone should return to the comfort of his fortress at Cam Eolaing to discuss events. Fidelma had not been able to extract any sense from the still hysterical Fial nor from Bishop Forbassach and Mel, who suddenly seemed disinclined to explain themselves. The abbess had likewise grown quiet. Fidelma was undecided but Dego pointed out that the day was drawing on and it would soon be dark. The decision seemed to have been made for her.

Among Coba’s men were warriors who knew the river well and they volunteered to bring Gabrán’s boat downstream to the jetty below the fortress of Cam Eolaing. Two of the chieftain’s men, together with Enda, took charge of the horses and rode back with them while Fidelma, with the others, took her place on the boat.

‘When we reach your fortress, Coba,’ Fidelma told the chieftain, ‘I will examine these people in an attempt to find out what has happened. As a magistrate of the country, I think it would be fitting that you sat with me as the local representative.’

Bishop Forbassach, overhearing, immediately raised objections.

‘Coba is no longer qualified to sit as a magistrate,’ he complained tersely. ‘In helping your Saxon friend escape, he lost his authority. You were there at the inn when I told him so.’

‘Loss of rank must be pronounced and confirmed by the King,’ Fidelma pointed out. ‘Has Fianamail formally stripped Coba of his rank as bó-aire?’

Bishop Forbassach seemed irritated.

‘The King had gone hunting with Abbot Noé in the northern hills when I went to see him about the matter of Coba’s abuse of the law over the Saxon.’

‘So, at this time, until Fianamail returns from hunting, Coba remains the bó-aire of this district, is that correct?’

Bishop Forbassach’s look was contemptuous.

‘Not in my eyes. I am Brehon of Laigin.’

‘In the eyes of the law, Coba is still magistrate while you are too closely involved in this matter, Forbassach. He will sit with me while I make my examination.’

Coba’s glance at Forbassach and the abbess contained not a little triumph in it.

‘I shall do so willingly, Sister. There seems some collusion here.’

‘We will discuss it at Cam Eolaing,’ Fidelma assured him.

It was growing dark when the boat nudged against the wooden jetty below the fortress of Cam Eolaing. Torches had to be lit to illuminate the way up the track from the river to the gates of Coba’s fortress. A small group of the chieftain’s retainers had gathered once they heard that he was returning and that a body was being carried among his party. They grouped anxiously around the gates, concerned that someone from Coba’s household had been killed.

Coba, leading the party to the fortress, halted briefly to identify the dead man to them. There was a murmur of surprise when they learnt it was Gabrán.

‘Back to your duties now,’ called their chieftain. ‘Light the hall fires for my guests and prepare refreshments,’ he instructed the house steward. Then, to the stable lads: ‘Take the horses and see to their needs.’ To those carrying Gabrán’s body: ‘Put that in the chapel.’

With half-a-dozen concise orders, Coba had organised an adequate reception for his guests, unwilling and willing. It was only after they had been washed, fed and rested, that they were called into the hall of Coba, where a fire blazed in the hearth and brand torches illuminated all the dark recesses.

Coba took his chair of office while Fidelma was offered a chair at his side.

She looked down at the expectant faces of Abbess Fainder, Mel, Enda and Dego, and the sullen, huddled figure of the girl named Fial. Then she frowned and glanced quickly round.

‘Bishop Forbassach? Where is he?’ She caught a gleam in Abbess Fainder’s eyes.

Coba had turned to his chief warrior and the man hurriedly left the room.

Fidelma fixed Abbess Fainder with a cold stare.

‘It would be easier for all of us if you told us where Forbassach has gone.’

‘You presume that I know?’ sneered the abbess.

‘I know that you do,’ replied Fidelma confidently.

‘I have done nothing wrong,’ replied Abbess Fainder, her jaw coming up aggressively. ‘I refuse to accept the lawfulness of being held here and being questioned by you or the bó-aire of Cam Eolaing. Coba has shown himself to be my enemy. I am held here against my will.’

Fidelma saw from the set of her features that she was not going to get anywhere with the abbess.

‘My men will search the fortress, Sister,’ Coba assured her. ‘We will find him.’

It was then that Coba’s chief warrior returned to the hall and came straight to Coba.

‘Bishop Forbassach has left the fortress!’

Coba looked startled. ‘I posted a guard on the gate with strict instructions that no one was to leave unless I or Sister Fidelma said so. How can this be? Were my orders not obeyed?’

The man grimaced awkwardly. ‘They were not, my chieftain. The gate stands open and Forbassach has taken a horse. Someone who saw him leave — they did not know that he had no permission to do so and so cannot be blamed — they saw him ride towards Fearna.’

Coba swore violently.

‘Aequo animo,’ murmured Fidelma, reprovingly.

‘My mind is calm,’ snapped Coba. ‘Where is the guard who was at the gate? Where is he who let Bishop Forbassach through? Bring him to me!’

‘He is gone also,’ muttered the warrior.

Coba was puzzled. ‘Gone? Who is this warrior who dares disobey me?’

‘The man is called Dau. He has a bandaged head.’

Coba was suddenly thoughtful. ‘The same man who was knocked unconscious when the Saxon fled from here this morning?’

‘That is he.’

‘Is it also known in which direction this man Dau has fled?’ intervened Fidelma.

‘The person who saw the bishop riding towards Fearna observed that another man rode with him, Sister,’ the warrior replied. ‘Doubtless, that was Dau. They have fled together.’

‘Bishop Forbassach was not fleeing,’ the abbess laughed scornfully. ‘He rides to Fearna in order to bring the King and his warriors backhere to make an end to your treachery, Coba, and an end to the false accusations of this friend of the Saxon murderer!’

‘I am cold and hungry. I do not feel well. Can’t we stop for a while?’

The complaint came from the young girl, Conna.

Eadulf drew to a halt and peered back to where the girl was lagging behind him and Muirecht in the gloom which was quickly descending over the mountain.

‘This is too exposed — without shelter, Conna,’ he replied. ‘We must reach the religious community before nightfall or soon after. If we halt here, we will freeze to death.’

‘I can’t go on. My legs are giving out.’

Eadulf gritted his teeth. He knew that they were now on the southern slopes of the Yellow Mountain and must surely be near the sanctuary of which Dalbach had spoken. If they halted they would never get started again and, out here on the windy unprotected slopes of the mountain, they might soon perish of cold.

‘We will continue a little further. We cannot be far off now. I thought I saw a wooded area down on the lower slopes a while ago when the sun was out. We will head in that direction. At least, if we don’t find the religious settlement, then we will have some protection in the woods. We might even be able to get a fire going.’

‘I can’t move!’ wailed the young girl.

‘Leave her,’ muttered Muirecht. ‘I am cold and hungry too but I do not want to die this night.’

Eadulf was about to rebuke her for her callousness but decided to save his breath. He turned and walked back to where Conna had sunk to a seat on a boulder.

‘If you can’t walk,’ he said firmly, ‘I must carry you.’

The girl gazed up at him uncertainly. Then she bowed her head and rose unsteadily from her perch.

‘I will try to go on a little further,’ she conceded in a grumbling tone.

It was a long time before the stretch of trees appeared over a sinewy shoulder of the mountain, a gloomy dark outline, no more. It was not far off and Eadulf could see nothing beyond its dim vista which seemed to merge with the slope of the mountains.

‘Come on!’ Eadulf said. ‘It will not be far now.’

They trudged on, the younger girl whimpering to herself now and then, the older one silent and angry.

The woods, when they reached them, were scarcely inviting in their dusk-shrouded blackness. Eadulf had trouble keeping to the track which led through them. Yet the fact that he had come on a well-used track was a good sign; it must mean that this was the way to the religious settlement. Nightfall came rapidly and there was no moon to light the way for the sky was cloudy and heavy.

After a while Eadulf sensed the thinning of the trees: they had emerged into open country again. The track split in two and it was lucky that he had his eyes to the ground trying to decipher which direction it would be best to take, otherwise he would have missed the fact that the path was diverging.

Muirecht suddenly gave a cry. ‘Look! There is a light down there. Look, Saxon, below us!’

Eadulf raised his head. The girl was right. Some way down the darkened slope he could see the flicker of a light. Was it a fire or perhaps it was a lantern?

‘There is another light just above us,’ Conna pointed out peevishly.

Eadulf turned in surprise and peered through the darkness in the opposite direction. Above them he saw the faint light of a dancing lantern. It was closer than the lights below. He made a decision.

‘We will go up towards that light.’

‘It would be easier to go down,’ protested Muirecht.

‘And further to return here if we are wrong,’ replied Eadulf logically. ‘We will go up.’

He began to lead the way up the path towards the flickering light. It was further than he thought but at last they came to a flat area with several buildings, surrounded by walls, emerging from the darkness. A lantern hung above the gates and an iron crucifix was fixed to them marking the purpose for which the buildings were used.

Eadulf gave a sigh of relief. At last they had found the religious sanctuary recommended by Dalbach. He tugged on the bell rope outside the gate.

A young, fresh-faced religieux came to open up. He looked in astonishment at the strange trio who stood outside in the circle of light cast by the lantern.

‘May I see Brother Martan?’ Eadulf addressed him. ‘Dalbach sent me here to seek shelter. I need food, warmth and a bed for myself and the little ones.’

The young religieux moved back and waved them inside.

‘Come in, come in, all of you.’ His welcome was enthusiastic. ‘I will take you to Brother Martan and while you speak with him, I shall see that your daughters are cared for.’

Eadulf did not bother to correct the well-meaning young man.

Brother Martan was stocky and chubby-faced. He was a man of advancing years and he wore a perpetual smile.

‘Deus tescum. You are welcome, stranger. I hear that you have come with Dalbach’s blessing.’

‘He told me that I might find a night’s sanctuary from the elements in your house.’

‘And Dalbach spoke truly. Have you come far, for your speech is that of a stranger to this land?’

The old man halted for Eadulf had automatically taken off his hat during the conversation.

‘You wear the tonsure of Peter. So are you of the Faith?’

‘I am a Saxon Brother,’ admitted Eadulf.

‘And you travel with your children?’

Eadulf shook his head and, without giving details of his own background, explained how he had encountered the girls.

‘Ah, such a tragedy is not unusual,’ sighed Brother Martan sadly, when Eadulf had finished. ‘I have heard of such an evil trade in human flesh before. And you say that the name of Gabrán was mentioned in this foul enterprise? He is a man known to our brethren at Fearna. He is a trader along the river.’

‘I shall be on my way to Fearna first thing in the morning.’

‘And the two girls?’

‘Could I leave them in your safekeeping?’

Brother Martan gave his approval. ‘They can stay here for as long as it is necessary. Perhaps they can be offered a new life in a family community, since their own has rejected them. The Faith is always seeking novitiates.’

‘That is a matter for them to decide. At the moment they have had a harsh experience. To be betrayed is one thing, but to be betrayed by your own parents …’ He shuddered slightly.

‘Come, Brother,’ Brother Martan rose to his feet. ‘I have kept you long enough from food and mulled wine. Then you must rest. You look completely exhausted.’

‘I am,’ agreed Eadulf. ‘I nearly chose the wrong path when we came out of the woods. If I had made the wrong choice and wandered anylonger on these slopes, I doubt whether I would have kept awake much longer.’

Brother Martan smiled uncertainly. ‘Did you not see our lantern which we always keep burning outside the gates of our community?’

‘Oh yes,’ Eadulf agreed. ‘However, I thought that the other light might mark your community.’

‘The other light?’ Brother Martan raised an eyebrow slightly and then smiled as understanding came to him. ‘Ah! Down the mountain, a few kilometers from here, is one of the King’s hunting lodges. When he or his huntsmen are resting there, there is often a fire and lights to be seen. Fianamail or one of his family are doubtless resting there now.’

Eadulf nearly groaned aloud in relief. Had he made the wrong choice, he knew how this day would have ended. Thankful, in more ways than one, Eadulf followed the kindly Father Superior to the refectory of the community.

In the hall of the fortress of Cam Eolaing, Fidelma had quietly taken charge again.

‘Since Bishop Forbassach has fled from here,’ she told her audience with a note of sarcasm, ‘it might be interpreted — as he and others have interpreted similar actions in other people — as a sign of guilt.’ She gazed in challenge at Abbess Fainder who coloured hotly but did not comment. ‘However, we have much work to do with or without him.’

‘I do not think you have time to do anything, Sister Fidelma. The bishop will return with the King’s warriors soon,’ Mel said provokingly.

Coba ignored his threat. ‘Why were you and Bishop Forbassach trying to kill the young girl?’ he demanded brusquely, without waiting for Fidelma to begin.

‘We were doing nothing of the kind!’ Mel responded coldly.

‘The girl herself accuses you.’

‘It is not so.’

‘It is! It is!’ Fial insisted, less hysterical now, and staring around at the company. ‘You are all trying to kill me.’

Fidelma glanced at Coba before intervening, being technically a guest in his hall. The bó-aire gave silent consent.

‘Let us put this another way, Mel. Why were you and Bishop Forbassach in pursuit of the girl?’

‘It was well known that Sister Fial had gone missing from the abbey. All we were doing was trying to bring her back.’

‘But how did you know where she was?’ demanded Fidelma.

‘I did not know where she was. I don’t think Bishop Forbassach knew either until we came on her by accident.’

‘You say that you came on her by accident? I think that I have missed something. How did you come here in pursuit of Sister Fial?’

‘Why do you insist on calling me Sister?’ the girl intervened in a petulant cry. She started to sob again.

Fidelma moved across and patted her on the arm.

‘Be patient a little longer, my dear. We shall not be long in approaching the truth.’ She glanced at Mel. ‘Proceed with your story, Mel. How did you come here?’

‘You must remember,’ Mel said. ‘You were there. I came down into the main room of my sister’s inn. You were there with Coba, Bishop Forbassach and the Abbot Noé. You accused Gabrán of attacking you. Bishop Forbassach told you that he would investigate and instructed me to go with him.’

‘That is why you were making enquiries about Gabrán at Cam Eolaing earlier?’ intervened Fidelma.

Mel nodded affirmatively.

‘Bishop Forbassach and I went first to the abbey. And when he had seen Abbess Fainder we rode out in search of Gabrán to see if there was any truth in your claim. The bishop could not believe that you had made up the story.’

Fidelma glanced towards Abbess Fainder. ‘Did you tell Forbassach where Fial was?’

‘I did not know where she was,’ she protested.

‘But you did see Bishop Forbassach this morning?’

‘He came early, after he had spoken with you at the inn. He told me of your claim about Gabrán but did not tell me that he was going in search of him. That’s why I went to find him myself.’

Fidelma turned back to Mel. ‘And you tell me that you both left immediately in search of Gabrán? Are you claiming that you had only just arrived when we found you were chasing Fial?’

‘That is when we arrived at Gabrán’s boat, yes.’

Fidelma shook her head reprovingly. ‘If you left the abbey when you claim that you did, and that seems to be confirmed by your early arrival at Cam Eolaing enquiring for Gabrán, how did you only just reach Gabrán’s boat when we encountered you? We could not have passed so far ahead of you.’

‘We were misled.’ Mel was unabashed by the apparent inconsistency. ‘We went up the wrong branch of the river and by the time we realised that it had become too narrow for Gabrán’s boat to be anywhere along it, we had fallen some hours behind you. We had to come all the way back almost to Cam Eolaing again before setting off along the right path. Had we not made that mistake, we would have reached Gabrán’s boat some hours ago, before you or the abbess.’

‘Forbassach and you are local men. You must have known how the river divides.’

‘Fearna is six or seven kilometres from here. Yes, I am a Fearna man, but I don’t know every nook and cranny in the kingdom.’

Fidelma considered the explanation. While she found it questionable it was just possible. She decided that she could not pursue it without further information.

‘Having been side-tracked and returned to find Gabrán’s boat, what then?’

‘That was when we encountered Sister Fial,’ Mel explained. ‘We were riding along the river path when, totally without warning, the girl leapt out of the bushes in front of us and skidded to a halt. I think she recognised us but she started to scream and run off. Bishop Forbassach and I gave chase. The next thing we knew was when we came on you …’ He shrugged and gave a lopsided grin. ‘Well, the rest you know, Sister.’

Fidelma pondered on his evidence for a while and then sighed deeply. She turned to the young girl, Fial. She had ceased sobbing but appeared ill and woebegone.

‘Fial, I want you to know that I mean you no harm. If you are honest with me, I shall be honest with you. Do you understand?’

The girl did not reply but her eyes reminded Fidelma of a frightened animal. They had the same stark expression that an animal has when a predator closes in. Impulsively she went to place an arm around the girl’s gaunt shoulders.

‘There is nothing to be frightened of any more. I am not your enemy and I shall protect you from those who are your enemies. Do you believe me?’

There was still no response. Fidelma tried some direct questions.

‘How long were you a prisoner on Gabrán’s boat?’

The girl’s silence continued.

‘I know that you were there. You were held in a small cabin below and manacled.’

It was not a question but a statement. Finally, Fial shuddered and responded.

‘I do not know how long I was there. This last time, I think it was two or three days. It was dark and I had no way of knowing.’

‘You are putting words into the girl’s mouth,’ protested Abbess Fainder.

Fidelma took Fial’s hands in both of hers and held them out for the rest of the company to inspect.

‘Have I also made these marks on her wrists, Abbess Fainder?’ she asked quietly. There were sores around the girl’s wrists which showed where they had been constrained. ‘I think Fial could also show you the sores around her ankles as well.’

Coba had already ascertained their existence.

‘Were you bound, child, on the boat?’ he demanded gruffly.

When the girl did not respond, Fidelma gently encouraged her by repeating the question. Fial dropped her head a little.

‘I was.’

‘How could anyone do this to a novitiate?’ demanded Abbess Fainder, finally accepting the evidence of her eyes. ‘Whoever did it, they have a lot to answer for.’

Fidelma shot her a look of cynicism.

‘Gabrán has answered for it, Abbess, if you will recall. The same manacle marks were present on Gormgilla, according to your physician, Brother Miach.’ Then she turned back to the girl. ‘However, Fial was never a novitiate at Fearna nor any other abbey. Isn’t that so?’

Fial shook her head.

‘You told me-’ Abbess Fainder burst out, but was silenced by a gesture from Fidelma.

‘Let us hear your story, child. You and your friend Gormgilla were brought to Fearna on Gabrán’s boat some weeks ago, weren’t you?’

‘We were not friends until we came to know each other after Gabrán took us as prisoners on his boat,’ the girl replied.

Abbess Fainder stared angrily at her. ‘This is not the story that you told the court during the trial of the Saxon.’

‘There are many tales that were told to that court which need to be changed,’ Fidelma replied waspishly. ‘Let the girl continue. Where did you come from?’

‘Our fathers both were daer-fudir and being only daughters it was our shame that they were enticed by Gabrán’s gold to part with us.Gormgilla and I spoke of this in the long dark periods we were together.’

‘Are you claiming that Gabrán was buying young girls and selling them along the river — to the abbey?’ cried Abbess Fainder aghast.

‘Not to the abbey,’ corrected Fidelma. ‘Gabrán probably took the girls downriver to Loch Garman and sold them to slaver ships who took them God knows where.’

‘But Gormgilla and this girl were supposed to be novitiates at the abbey,’ protested the abbess. ‘This girl herself claimed that she was a novitiate.’

‘Fial has just told you that they were not. Tell us, Fial, about that night when Gabrán’s boat arrived at the abbey while you were being taken downriver.’

The girl blinked rapidly but she had exhausted her tears now.

‘Gormgilla was younger than me, only twelve. When we were brought aboard Gabrán’s boat he singled her out and …’ She let her voice trail off.

‘We understand,’ Fidelma assured her.

‘We did not know where we were going because we were kept in the dark cabin and shackled all the time. I knew the boat had halted, and that it had lasted for some time. Gormgilla and I were nervous as to how long we would be shut up in that filthy-smelling place. Then the door opened and Gabrán came squeezing in. We could smell alcohol on him. He unlocked Gormgilla’s shackles and she asked him where he was taking her.’ Fial paused for a moment, remembering the scene.

‘What did Gabrán say?’ prompted Fidelma.

‘He said that he was taking her to share some pleasure to help pass away the night. Then he dragged her struggling into the other, bigger, cabin and I was locked in darkness on my own. It was not long before I heard Gormgilla screaming. There were other sounds too — sounds like a struggle. Then all was silent.’

She paused again as if trying to come to terms with her memories before continuing.

‘I do not know how much time passed. The hatchway opened suddenly. At first I thought it was Gabrán returning for me but it was another member of his crew — the same man who had brought us on board the boat. I do not know his name. He told me to be absolutely quiet and said that I would be free and rewarded if I did what I was told without question.

‘He took me into the adjacent cabin where the other boatmen slept,although Gormgilla and I never saw them; we saw only Gabrán and this particular crewman. I don’t think the others even knew that we were on board. In this cabin I saw Gabrán; he was stretched out on the deck and I thought he was in a drunken stupor — I had often seen my father in a similar way. I realised soon afterwards that there was blood on his clothes and he grasped a piece of bloody cloth in his hand. By him sat a man in the robes of the religious but with a heavy cowl over his face; in the darkness I could not see his features. He seemed nervous and one hand fumbled with his crucifix which hung around his neck beneath his robe.’

‘Is this another tale to discredit my abbey?’ Abbess Fainder’s tone was one of disbelief at the entire story.

‘I speak the truth,’ the girl protested with some spirit. ‘I can only say what I saw.’

Fidelma patted the girl gently on the arm in encouragement.

‘You are doing well. What did he say to you, this religieux?’

‘He said nothing. The sailor did all the talking. I was told that there had been an accident. That Gormgilla had been killed and it was essential that the right man should be punished. At first I thought that he was referring to Gabrán for I had no doubt then that it was he who had killed my poor companion.’

‘But he did not mean Gabrán?’

‘No. He told me that Gormgilla had left the boat to go onto the quay. He said that there was a Saxon staying at the abbey. He had raped and strangled Gormgilla. The Saxon would not be caught unless I testified that I had seen him kill her.’

‘What?’ Abbess Fainder appeared astounded. ‘You say that you were told, with the approval of a religieux, to tell lies about something so important?’

‘I knew it was all a lie but I also knew that unless I agreed to tell it, I would be dead as well. I was to say that I had stood behind some bales and had seen this Saxon attacking my friend. I could identify him by the fact that he wore a different tonsure to all other religious and this tonsure was described to me. I was also to say that I and Gormgilla were novitiates at the abbey.’

‘How could you make that claim if it was not true?’ sneered the abbess. ‘My mistress of novitiates would have denounced such a deception.’

‘Except that she had just gone on a pilgrimage to Iona,’ Fidelma reminded her.

‘I was told that no one would doubt my story,’ added Fial.

Fidelma glanced at the abbess. ‘As I recall, you supported the story, Fainder,’ she said. ‘You identified the girls to your stewardess as novitiates, didn’t you?’

There was a silence before Fidelma asked firmly: ‘Who else identified Fial as a novitiate?’

Abbess Fainder fell silent, frowning in thought.

Mel cleared his throat. He had been considering Fial’s story.

‘The girl did appear from behind the bales. She could have come from the boat. But she did tell me …’

‘Indeed,’ Fidelma interrupted impatiently. ‘She had been on the boat the entire time. It makes sense of the points that I made to you about the inconsistency of her position on the quay. However, let her continue the story. When it was realised that Gormgilla’s body had been found, some quick thinking had to be done.’

‘Not by Gabrán, he was drunk. The girl said so,’ interposed Coba with interest. ‘Who do you think arranged this elaborate lie?’

‘The person who employed Gabrán; the person in charge of this terrible trade in human suffering,’ replied Fidelma confidently. ‘It seems that by coincidence, that very person had arrived on the quay with one of Gabrán’s crew just as Gabrán had killed Gormgilla. They grabbed the drunken man, probably knocked him unconscious to be able to manage him properly. Then they dragged him back on board and dumped him in a cabin to sleep it off. Then one or both of them returned to the body, thinking to dispose of it. Yet another coincidence … they were just about to remove the body when Abbess Fainder came trotting out of the darkness on her horse. They scurried back to the boat wondering what to do. Then Mel arrived.’

‘Fainder has told her story of how she spotted the body,’ Coba agreed. ‘That fits into your theory.’

‘Except that the Saxon’s robes were covered in blood and he had a piece of …’ Abbess Fainder did not finish as she remembered what the girl had said about Gabrán’s state of clothing.

‘What happened to the bloody cloth that was grasped in Gabrán’s hand, Fial?’ Coba asked.

‘The boatman gave it to the religieux. He said that it could be put to good use if the religieux could get back to the abbey.’

‘In other words, it was to be planted on Brother Eadulf,’ muttered Fidelma. ‘But let us not get ahead of the story. With the arrival of theabbess there was panic. They heard Mel hailing Abbess Fainder as he approached the quay. Gabrán’s employer was cornered on the boat. They could no longer attempt to hide the crime. It therefore became imperative to allow Gabrán’s employer to fade into the darkness and for Gabrán not to be suspected. Someone came up with the idea of forcing young Fial to give false evidence on the assurance that she would be freed. Is that so?’

Fial confirmed her surmise.

‘I kept my part. I told everyone what I was instructed to say. I identified the Saxon by his unusual tonsure. They told me that I had to be locked in a room in the abbey for my own safety until after the trial. Days passed then, two days ago, a religieux came and let me out.’

‘The same person who sat with the boatman who instructed you to identify the Saxon?’

‘Not the same. I had not seen this man before. He took me to Gabrán’s boat. Gabrán was on board. Before I could struggle, I was shackled as I was before. I heard the big man say to Gabrán, “You are to get rid of her”! That was all he said. Gabrán replied: “It shall be done.” The religieux left and Gabrán pushed me down into the same small dark cabin that I had shared with Gormgilla. He grinned at me and said: “It shall be done but at a time of my own choosing”.’

Fial started to sob again. ‘I have been down there for all eternity. Gabrán came down last night and … and … he used me.’

Fidelma wrapped the girl’s sobbing form in her arms and gazed towards Coba.

‘It was, sadly, my arrival at the abbey and my enquiries that caused the poor girl to be taken from there and returned to Gabrán.’

Abbess Fainder, who was very pale, cleared her throat nervously.

‘How can we be sure that she is telling the truth this time? She admits that she has lied before, so maybe she is lying now? It seems too grotesque a tale to be real.’

‘Too grotesque to be made up by a thirteen-year-old child,’ replied Fidelma sharply. She turned back to Fial. ‘Just a few questions more, little one. While you were imprisoned in the darkness on the boat, you did not waste your time, did you?’

Fial looked at her questioningly. ‘How did you know?’

‘You managed to get a sharp piece of metal and you started digging out the fixture of the metal chain that bound your ankle.’

‘I don’t know how long it took me. Ages.’

‘And when you were free …?’

‘I could only free my leg iron. I still had manacles on my wrists.’

‘Just so. But you were able to climb up through the small hatch into Gabrán’s cabin? The hatchway into the main cabin was locked, of course.’

‘So she killed him!’ cried Abbess Fainder, realising where this was now leading. ‘She stabbed him at the time that I came aboard. Why,’ she paused, wondering, ‘she must have been in the very process of killing Gabrán. I knocked at the cabin door and the girl slid back through the hatch. Then, while I was bent over the body, she escaped through the cabin and went over the side of the ship. That was the splash I heard.’

‘You are nearly right, Mother Abbess,’ agreed Fidelma.

‘Nearly right?’ The abbess was belligerent.

‘When Fial climbed into the cabin she found that Gabrán was dead already. He had been killed by a sword blow which had been delivered with a terrific force. Am I right, Fial? Shall I continue?’

The girl seemed stunned by her apparent omniscience. When she did not speak, Fidelma continued: ‘Fial knew where Gabrán kept his keys and released herself from the wrist manacles. She was about to leave when a desire came over her for revenge; revenge for the terrible injury that this brute had done her. It was, perhaps, an instinctive adolescent reaction. She grabbed a knife that lay nearby and pulling Gabrán up by his hair — she grasped the hair so tightly in her rage that some of it came out by the roots — she plunged the knife half-a-dozen times into his chest and arms. The wounds were superficial. Then the abbess knocked on the cabin door. Fial dropped the knife and let go her hold on the body. That, indeed, was the soft thud that Fainder heard.

‘Fial knew that she had to escape. The only way lay below but the door was locked. She grabbed at some keys in Gabrán’s cabin. There were four of them. She knew one of them had to fit the lock of her prison below. It was her only means to escape. She scuttled back into the cabin. The rest is obvious.’

Fidelma paused and placed her hands either side of the girl’s face and drew it up so that Fial was forced to look directly into her eyes.

‘Have I told it correctly, my dear? Is that how it happened?’

Fial let out a great sob.

‘I would have killed him if I could. I hated him so — what he did to me! What he did to me!’

Fidelma dropped her arms around the child to comfort her.

Coba leaned backwards in his chair, closed his eyes for a moment and let out a long sigh.

‘Do I understand this correctly? While the abbess was in Gabrán’s cabin, the girl made her way up on deck and jumped into the torrent? The current of the river is strong there. Why not simply go ashore?’

‘It was a point that confused me at the time,’ Fidelma confessed. ‘However, I did not take into account how strong fear is as a means of compulsion. Poor Fial was scared for her life. She did not know where she was. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself by walking off the ship onto a jetty. She did not know if her enemies were there. She obviously could swim well and took that route. Then shortly afterwards, on shore, when she encountered Fainder and Mel …’

‘ … She thought that we were part of this slave conspiracy,’ Mel supplied.

‘Conspiracy is a good word, Mel. For there are many mysteries here yet to be solved.’

Abbess Fainder sniffed disdainfully.

‘That is very true, Sister. For if Fial did not kill Gabrán, and you finally seem to accept that I did not — then who did kill him?’ Her eyes suddenly glistened. ‘Or are we to conclude that your Saxon came looking for revenge?’

Fidelma’s eyes flashed angrily.

‘I hope this poor child’s testimony has demonstrated that Brother Eadulf was not guilty of the rape and murder of Gormgilla, and that another hand guided that outrageous conspiracy!’

‘Even so, Sister,’ Coba interposed, ‘where are you leading us? You say Gabrán was murdered but not by Fial nor by the abbess. I cannot see who else could have killed him, nor even why he was killed.’

‘Gabrán was merely a tool. He was the means by which the trade in human beings was carried out, the means by which they were transported down to the sea port. Gabrán did not have the brains to plan and sustain this vile commerce. Have you forgotten Fial’s words already? She spoke of the cowled religious who ordered her to falsely identify Brother Eadulf.’

Mel rubbed the back of his neck. ‘She also mentioned another crewman who helped him when Gabrán was lying drunk. So who was the other crewman? Did he turn on Gabrán?’

Fidelma made a quick, impatient motion of her hand.

‘No. Gabrán turned on him. That crewman was the man who was killed the next day — the one that poor Brother Ibar was wrongly executed for murdering.’

Abbess Fainder blinked rapidly. ‘Are you saying that Ibar was innocent?’

‘That is exactly what I am saying. Ibar the blacksmith was a convenient scapegoat and perhaps a necessary one. The day before he was killed, he had been complaining that all he was being employed to do at the abbey was to make animal shackles. Perhaps he did not realise, or perhaps he realised too late, that the shackles for animals were being used on human beings?

‘Brother Eadulf told me that he heard Ibar crying, when he was being led to the gibbet, about manacles. “Ask about the manacles!” he called.’

‘I would like to know, as Coba has already asked you, where you are leading us, Sister,’ demanded the abbess. Her voice was suddenly tremulous and she seemed to have lost her strength.

Fidelma faced the abbess squarely.

‘I would have thought that it was obvious, Mother Abbess,’ she said quietly. ‘This trade in young girls, selling them off to foreign slave ships, is being run by someone in Fearna, someone in the abbey — and that someone is a religious who bears a high rank there.’

Abbess Fainder’s hand came up to clutch her throat, her face pale.

‘No! No! she cried and then, without warning, she collapsed to the floor in a swoon.

Fidelma moved swiftly to her side and bent down, feeling for the pulse in her neck.

At that moment, one of Coba’s warriors came bursting into the hall in a state of excitement.

‘Bishop Forbassach has returned. He is outside with a large band of the King’s warriors. He demands the release of the abbess and the warrior, Mel, and the surrender of the rest of us. What is the word, Chieftain? Do we surrender or do we fight?’