‘Did Teafa claim that Eber had killed her sister Tomnat?’
‘No, she did not.’
‘When did this happen?’
‘Over twenty years ago. No, I can be more precise. It was a few months before Teafa adopted Móen.’
‘Did you not challenge Eber, or report your suspicion that Eber had murdered Tomnat?’
‘I? What could I have done alone without proof?’
‘What of Teafa, who told you of this sexual abuse?’
‘Teafa felt she could not betray her brother nor bring shame on her sister. I could not bring any accusation unless I had proof. I left Araglin, as I said, hoping to search out a new life. It is true what the ancient bards say – if you destroy your life in one small corner of the world, you have destroyed it in every small corner. I did not realise it until I found myself aging in the service of Cashel. I had not been able to get this place out of my mind. I dreamt of one day finding Tomnat. And though over twenty years have passed, I finally returned.’
‘You have returned, Dubán, but for what purpose?’
‘Easy to say; I returned for vengeance.’
Fidelma tried to examine his features in the dark but gave up.
‘Vengeance is an ugly thing, Dubán. Did you seek vengeance or justice?’
‘It is true that I have been seeking some evidence of what I know in my heart to be the truth. But I will be honest – I wanted vengeance. An eye for an eye, a tooth for tooth, a burning for burning. Exactly as Father Gormán teaches in his chapel.’
Fidelma held her head to one side.
‘You realise what you have told me, Dubán? You have said
that you had every reason to kill Eber. And, being on guard that night, you also had the opportunity.’
Dubán nodded gravely.
‘This is true, sister. There is no man I would have rather killed. The motivation for returning here and seeking service with the chieftain of Araglin was to eventually find out what happened to Tomnat and punish him if I could. If that makes me suspect, Fidelma, then I am suspect and willingly so. Treat me as you will. Though I would prefer that you discover the truth.’
‘Do you deny that you killed Eber?’
‘As much as I admit to seeking vengeance and weeping no tears of remorse when I heard the news of Eber’s death, I confess that mine was not the hand that struck down that foul man. Nor had I reason to kill Teafa, who had been an honourable lady.’
‘Could Eber not have reformed his personality? Especially after Tomnat disappeared?’
Dubán almost spat.
‘Reformed? Once a wolf always a wolf. They cannot change their natures.’
‘You have changed your nature,’ Fidelma pointed out.
‘I do not understand.’ Dubán was bewildered.
‘You have transferred your love for the long lost Tomnat to Eber’s daughter Crón.’
‘I do not deny that either.’ The warrior was defensive. ‘One cannot love a memory forever. It is true that when I came here, I came to seek vengeance for a lost love but I discovered another.’
‘So are you telling me that twenty years and more has assuaged your hatred for Eber?’
‘No. I do not tell you that. I merely say that in Eber’s daughter I have found a new love. I can assure you that I did not kill Eber. And if I did not, and that poor deaf, dumb and blind idiot did not, then someone else did. And that someone might be one who also knew the truth about Eber’s real character. Find the person who
hid in the gloom of the cave with Menma and I think you will find the murderer.’
Fidelma was silent for a while and then she finally said: ‘Perhaps you are right, Dubán. Eber has paid the price for his evil deeds and God forgive him.’
‘God may forgive him, but I shall not,’ declared Dubán in an uncompromising tone.
‘But you truly thought that Móen was guilty when the murder was discovered?’
‘I had no reason to believe otherwise. God moves in mysterious ways, sister. I truly believed that God used the unfortunate creature as an instrument of His greater vengeance.’
‘It has become obvious that Menma was also somehow involved in this. Do you agree that he was an instrument of someone more powerful than he was?’
Dubán nodded agreement immediately.
‘Menma was ambitious but he was a simple man. He took orders; he did not give them. So it was the person in the cave who was giving Menma orders. It was that person who wrote the vellum and is manipulating the evil that spreads in this valley.’
‘That is the truth of it,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘On no account tell anyone yet at the
rath
of how you dealt with Menma nor of what we have discussed.’
They were getting quite close to the
rath
now. The guard dogs began to howl as they sensed the approach of Fidelma and her companion.
Fidelma left Dubán at the stables having unsaddled and seen to her horse’s wants before making her way as quickly as she could to the guests’ hostel.
Gadra was waiting by the door. She tried to guess whether the news was good or bad from his solemn expression.
‘I think he is over the worst of it,’ he greeted her.
Fidelma shut her eyes, swaying a moment, and then let out a deep sigh.
Gadra went on impervious to her reaction: ‘He is asleep now. He has passed through the sickness and fever. I believe that your God guided you to seek my cure at an early stage. We have been able to purge the poison from him.’
‘Will he be all right?’ she demanded.
‘I believe so. But he needs rest now.’
‘Can I see him?’
‘Do not wake him. Sleep is always a great healer.’
‘I shall not.’
Gadra stood aside and she went into the guests’ hostel. Eadulf was lying on his back on his mattress, his features pale but relaxed in a natural sleep of exhaustion. Fidelma moved forward and knelt beside his bed, raising her slim hand to gently touch his brow. It was still fairly warm; doubtless the fever had only just subsided. She felt a sudden tender feeling for the Saxon which she could not define. She had come near to losing him. She closed her eyes and uttered a silent prayer of gratitude.
A moment or so later she rose and found Gadra in the main room of the hostel.
‘How can I ever thank you?’
The old man examined her with his ancient pale eyes.
‘The young girl, Grella, helped a lot. I have only just sent her to her bed. Give your thanks to her.’
‘But without you …’ protested Fidelma.
‘If you would give me thanks, make sure that the truth prevails in this place.’
Fidelma inclined her head slightly.
‘I am near to the truth, old one. One question to bring me nearer. Was Tomnat the mother of Móen?’
Gadra’s expression remained inscrutable.
‘Truly, you have a perceptive mind, child.’
Fidelma allowed herself to smile.
‘Then the truth shall prevail.’
When Gadra had gone, Fidelma went into the
fialtech
to wash and prepare herself for a night’s repose.
Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.
Fidelma was alone in the forest.
Alone and afraid.
Around her mysterious shapes slunk through the woods on either side, the undergrowth rustled and quivered. Everything was dark.
She was calling. She was not sure to whom she was calling. Her father? Yes, she must be calling to her father. He had brought her to the forest and now he had deserted her. She was only a child. Alone and lost in the forest.
Somehow, somehow in her reasoning mind, she realised that this could not be so. Her father had died when she was a baby. Why should he have brought her here and left her?
She stumbled on through the threatening darkness of the forest. Pushing her way forward. But the forest trees seemed to grow closer and closer the more she moved forward. Finally, she could not move at all and she paused and peered up.
It was strange how the trees resembled the stems of mushrooms,
giant mushrooms, great fungi towering above her.
The threatening shapes were pressing closer and closer.
She called out.
It was then she realised that it was not her father who had brought her here and deserted her.
It was Eadulf to whom she was calling.
Eadulf!
She started forward, stretching out a hand …
She groaned as bright flickering sunlight greeted her open eyes.
She found herself stretching forward on her bed, one hand held out before her.
She blinked rapidly and gathered her thoughts.
It was well past dawn and she was in her bed in the guests’ hostel.
She heard a movement in the adjacent cubicle.
She swung out of her bed and drew on her robe.
Gadra was seated outside. He smiled as she joined him.
‘A good morning, sister.’
‘Is it so?’ she queried, glancing toward’s Eadulf’s cubicle.
The old man nodded solemnly.
‘It is so.’
Fidelma immediately went inside. Eadulf was still lying down but his eyes were open. He remained pale, and there were little wrinkles of pain around the corners of his mouth. But the dark eyes were clear and untroubled.
‘Fidelma!’ he greeted in a croaking voice that was weak with exhaustion. ‘I thought that I might not see another dawn.’
She knelt beside the bed, smiling reassuringly.
‘You should not give up so easily on life, Eadulf.’
‘It was a struggle,’ he admitted. ‘One I have no wish to repeat.’
‘Dignait is dead,’ she announced.
Eadulf shut his eyes for a moment.
‘Dignait? Was she responsible?’
‘It would appear that Dignait knew who prepared the poisonous dish.’
‘Then who killed Dignait?’
‘I believe I know. But I need to discover the answers to a few more questions first.’
‘Where was Dignait found? I thought she had disappeared from the
rath?’
‘In an underground chamber on Archú’s farmstead.’
Eadulf showed his surprise.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I am calling everyone who is concerned into the hall of assembly at midday when I will reveal who the killer is.’
Eadulf smiled grimly.
‘I will make myself strong enough to attend,’ he averred.
She shook her head.
‘You will remain here with Grella until you are well.’
The fact that Eadulf did not bother to argue showed that he was still very weak.
‘Are you suggesting that there is one killer for all the deaths which have happened?’
‘I suspect that there is one person responsible,’ she replied enigmatically.
‘Who?’
Fidelma gave a small laugh.
‘Get yourself well, Eadulf. I’ll come to you as soon as I am sure.’
She reached forward, took his hand and squeezed it.
Outside Gadra was checking some pungent broth for Eadulf. The odour was powerful. The young girl Grella had brought it from the kitchen. She looked nervous in Fidelma’s presence but Fidelma smiled encouragement, thanking her for all she had done.
Grella bobbed nervously.
‘I will bring your breakfast now, sister.’
While Fidelma washed the food was bought so that she was able to dress and finish eating by the time Gadra had finished giving an unappreciative Eadulf the herbal soup. By the sound of
it, he was not a particularly good patient for his protests at the taste echoed through the hostel. Fidelma put her head into the cubicle.
‘Shame on you, Eadulf. Unless you make yourself better, I shall not tell you what happens at noon.’
Gadra looked up with a frown.
‘What happens at noon?’
‘I have told Eadulf that at noon everyone concerned with this matter will gather in the hall of assembly. That will mean you and Móen. Is the young man all right?’
‘He has been much cheered by what you have done for him,’ Gadra replied. ‘He is a bright, sensitive young man, Fidelma. He deserves a chance in life. We shall be there at noon.’
It was half an hour later that she crossed to the church of Cill Uird and strode inside. A figure was kneeling before the altar in an attitude of prayerful contemplation.
‘Father Gormán!’
The priest started up in surprise.
‘You have interrupted me at prayer, Sister Fidelma.’ His voice was filled with irritation.
‘I have urgent need to speak with you.’
Father Gormán turned to the altar, genuflected and climbed slowly from his knees.
‘What is it, sister?’ he asked wearily.
‘I thought you should know that Dignait is dead.’
The priest visibly winced but he did not seem unduly surprised.
‘So many deaths,’ he sighed.
‘Too many deaths,’ replied Fidelma. ‘Five deaths already in this pleasant valley of Araglin.’
Gormán looked at her uncertainly.
‘Five?’ he queried.
‘Yes. A stop must be put to this carnage.
We
must put a stop to it.’
‘We?’ Father Gormán seemed nonplussed.
‘I think you can help me.’
‘What can I do?’ There was almost a suspicious note to his voice.
‘You were Muadnat’s soul-friend, weren’t you?’
‘I prefer the Roman term – confessor. And, indeed, I was confessor to most people here in Araglin.’
‘Very well. However you describe your role, I want to know whether Muadnat ever mentioned gold to you?’
‘Are you asking me to break the sacredness of the confessional?’ thundered Father Gormán.
‘It is a confidentiality that I do not recognise but I respect your right to believe in it. Let me put some questions to you. I believe that Dignait had been a servant here for many years?’
‘Dignait? I thought you wanted to ask me about Muadnat?’
‘Let us concentrate on Dignait for a moment. She had been here since Cranat came here to marry Eber, hadn’t she?’
‘That is so.’
‘Did you notice to whom her loyalties lay?’
‘Why to this house of Araglin.’
‘Not to one person? Cranat for example?’
Father Gormán hesitated and looked awkward.
‘And didn’t Dignait hate Eber?’ pressed Fidelma.
‘Hate?’ Father Gormán shook his head. ‘She did not respect him but that is not hate. She was closer to young Crón than her mother and would do anything for her.’
‘She would do anything for Crón?’ repeated Fidelma thoughtfully.
‘No crime in that,’ Gormán observed.
‘No. No crime in that in itself.’ She paused. ‘You don’t like Dubán, do you?’
This question was asked abruptly.
Father Gormán was annoyed.
‘What have my likes and dislikes to do with this matter?’ he demanded.
‘Just an observation,’ she conceded. ‘I have seen you arguing with him. I simply wondered why you disliked him.’
‘He is a man with ambition. I believe he wants to be chieftain of Araglin. Do you know that he is trying to beguile young Crón?’
‘Beguile? Now that is a strange word to use. Allure, enchant or deceive. Is this what you mean?’
Father Gormán thrust out his chin.
‘Observe his relationship for yourself.’
‘Oh, that I have.’
‘I feel sorry for Cranat. She was the wife of a chieftain without moral scruples and mother to a young woman whose innocence blinds her to the ambitions of a man old enough to be her father.’
‘I recall that you hated Eber as well.’
‘True, I could barely tolerate him. Eber was a sinner before God and man. There is no forgiveness for such a man who has transgressed against his fellow man and his God.’
‘As a priest, you should have compassion. Instead I find much hate in you. It is for you to be forgiving. Did not Paul write to the Ephesians saying: “Be kind to one another, tender hearted, forgiving one another even as God, for Christ’s sake, has forgiven you”? If God can forgive, so can his priest.’
Father Gormán stared at her for a moment. Then he grimaced in anger.
‘You should have read further into that epistle to the Ephesians. Paul said: “For this you know, that no whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idolater, has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.” Eber will have no inheritance in the afterlife.’
‘And because he lay with his own sisters or even worse?’
‘All I say is that this world is better off without Eber of Araglin. The sooner this valley is purged of evil, the better.’
‘So it is not purged yet in your eyes? Did you know that Muadnat had a gold mine?’
Father Gormán bit his lip. ‘How much do you know of this?’
‘You will find out. Be in the hall of assembly at noon.’
Fidelma left the chapel abruptly with Father Gormán standing staring after her. He stood absolutely still until she had gone and then turned hurriedly towards his sacristy.