Badger's Moon (31 page)

Eadulf shook his head in bewilderment. ‘Surely if such ghosts existed they would come back seeking only their killer.’

‘The belief is that the whole clan is responsible if the killer is not caught and punished. The clan is the kin and the entire kin is responsible for what one of its members does. So unless the killer is caught and punishment announced, then, on Samhain, any one or all of us might be visited by the vengeful wraiths.’

‘Well, have no fear, Becc.’ Fidelma smiled.

The chieftain looked at her expectantly.

‘When we meet at noon tomorrow in this hall, then I shall reveal the guilty to you.’

Eadulf and Fidelma had retired to their room and were preparing for bed. Eadulf was very quiet. From time to time, Fidelma glanced across at him with a worried expression.

‘You appear pensive tonight, Eadulf,’ she finally remarked. ‘Is it about tomorrow?’

He responded with a troubled sigh.

‘I have been through many such hearings, Fidelma. I have little doubt that you will be successful in this matter as you have been in the past.’

‘I fear you take too much for granted,’ she replied seriously. ‘Don’t we have a saying – the end of the day is a good prophet? You are usually interested to know how I plan to approach a hearing,’ she continued when he did not respond. ‘Yet tonight you have scarcely asked me any questions about who is the guilty party and how I will set about demonstrating it.’

Eadulf turned to her with a quick movement, his gaze fixed on her face as if examining her expression closely.

‘Have you thought any more about our discussion involving little Alchú?’ he asked brutally.

Fidelma’s face altered slightly, becoming an impassive mask.

‘Of course I have thought about it,’ she replied, terseness in her tone.

‘And?’ Eadulf delivered the word like a blow.

‘I would have thought that we had other matters to consider as of this moment,’ she responded. ‘Once we have finished, then we can…’

Eadulf rose from where he had been sitting with a shake of his head. He strode across the room and back again, his movements demonstrating his agitation. When he spoke again his voice was tense.

‘Each time I have raised the matter, you have tried to put it off. What has happened since you had our child, Fidelma? You have become almost a different person.’

Fidelma was about to launch into a scathing attack on his insensitivity at this particular time when she suddenly realised that such an outburst would be no more than camouflage on her part. She was prevaricating. She was putting off the time when she had to deal with the matter.

‘You are right, Eadulf. I do feel a different person,’ she replied quietly.

Eadulf stood still for a moment, her words suddenly deflating him, and then he reseated himself. She sounded so vulnerable.

‘Is it something I have done?’ he asked.

Fidelma shook her head, frowning. ‘I don’t think so. I don’t know. Since we returned to Cashel and I gave birth to Alchú, it seems that things have changed.’

‘In what way? All that has happened is that we now have a son. I know that you are not concerned by the likes of those who are trying to make the religious celibate. You have always denounced those ascetic religious before.’

‘I am not at all concerned with them,’ Fidelma assured him firmly. ‘There is plenty of room in the Faith for those who pursue the ascetic path as well as we who pursue a religion based firmly on society as it is and not as it is envisioned by those who would suppress all emotion and human instinct. Let the celibates live in their caves or island hermitages. We are here to minister to society as part of society.’

‘Then if that is not the concern, can it be that you feel ashamed of Alchú because his father is a Saxon?’

‘Ashamed?’ Fidelma almost spat the word. Her eyes flashed as she spun round on him. For a moment, Eadulf thought she would strike him. ‘How dare you think that I am ashamed of…of…’ Her voice faltered and she ended with a sob.

Eadulf shrugged helplessly. ‘I do not mean to upset you, but I am simply at a loss to understand. You are troubled. You are behaving differently. What am I to make of it? What has gone wrong?’

Fidelma sat, head bowed, for a few moments. Then she sniffed and tried to draw herself up.

‘Can I make a bargain with you, Eadulf?’ Her voice was controlled and very quiet.

Eadulf regarded her with suspicion.

‘What sort of bargain?’ he demanded.

‘A bargain that you allow me to concentrate on this matter which will be resolved one way or another tomorrow. After that, we shall immediately return to Cashel. There I promise that we will discuss these problems and sort matters out.’

Eadulf compressed his lips and thought for a moment or two. ‘It would be better if I had even an idea of what it is that needs to be sorted out.’

Fidelma looked at him sorrowfully. ‘If I could give you that information now, Eadulf, there would be no problem to sort out. Can we make that bargain?’

Eadulf remained silent. Then he said: ‘I have been aware of some changes in you since the birth of Alchú. I have had to live with these changes during the last few months. I don’t suppose that one more day will make a great difference, will it? Very well. I agree. We will leave this matter between us in abeyance until the present case has been sorted and finalised.’

Fidelma reached forward and laid a hand on Eadulf’s arm.

‘Thank you,’ she said simply. ‘You are always there for me when I need a staff to rely on, Eadulf. Although you may not appreciate it, I value that support.’ There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments and then she forced a smile. ‘Now, before we retire for the night, I want to go over what I shall say tomorrow and you may see, as you always do, if there are flaws in my logic.’

Eadulf gave in with reluctance.

‘Where will you begin?’ he asked, trying to put enthusiasm in his voice.

Fidelma relaxed and sat back.

‘I’ll begin with the gold mine,’ she said thoughtfully.

‘The gold mine? Who is your main suspect for the murders of the girls?’

When she told him, Eadulf swallowed in amazement.

‘I hope you can demonstrate that,’ he whispered doubtfully. ‘If not, things could go very badly for us tomorrow.’

Fidelma slowly began to explain her case.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brocc blinked before her fury and fell sullenly silent.

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

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

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

‘Correct.’

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

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

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

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

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

The Aksumite shrugged indifferently but made no response.

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

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

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

There was an uneasy murmur from those assembled.

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

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

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

Again, Brother Dangila was silent.

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

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

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

Fidelma ignored him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Can you prove this?’ demanded Becc.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She paused for a moment.

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

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

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