Peter Tremayne - A Prayer for the Damned

Fidelma remained silent for a while, then finally said: ‘So last night you went to see Abbot Ultán with the intention of killing him?’

Muirchertach shrugged eloquently.

‘I suppose that was my intention,’ he admitted. ‘Having discovered that Abbot Ultán was here, I went in anger to his chamber, determined to make him pay for what he had done. He had destroyed the lives of two young people.’

Fidelma looked thoughtfully at Aíbnat. ‘Did you know what your husband intended when he left this chamber last night?’

‘My actions have nothing to do with Aíbnat,’ Muirchertach said hurriedly.

Fidelma ignored him.

‘Did you know that your husband was going to see Ultán and that he went in anger to seek recompense for the death of your sister?’ she insisted again.

The wife of Muirchertach returned her scrutiny with the old belligerent fire in her eyes. ‘My husband is king of Connacht. He should have led a raid against the Uí Thuirtrí and burnt down Abbot Ultán’s abbey many months ago.’

Fidelma smiled tightly. ‘I will take it that you have answered in the affirmative. Were you and Muirchertach here together in the hour or so before he left to see Abbot Ultán?’

Aíbnat frowned. ‘I suppose so. Why?’

‘I need to understand exactly what happened. You were both here and presumably talking over the fact that Abbot Ultán was here also. How did you find out that he was present?’

‘Abbot Augaire of Conga told us.’

‘Augaire?’

‘He is my chief abbot and bishop.’

‘I have heard that he exchanged some angry words with Ultán when he arrived.’

‘So he told us,’ Muirchertach agreed.

‘Was Abbot Augaire here when you left to see Ultán?’

‘He was not. He had retired to his chamber long before.’

Fidelma made a mental note to find out where all the guests’ chambers were in relation to Abbot Ultán’s room.

‘So he left you and the lady Aíbnat alone and you talked of Ultán and your anger increased and you left to confront him?’ she summed up.

‘But I did not kill him. As God is my witness, I did not kill him — much as I would have liked to.’

Aíbnat suddenly laughed bitterly.

‘My husband can scarcely kill a man in battle without swooning!’ she sneered. ‘Such a mighty king. All he cares for is his fine wine, good food, dancing and entertainment and women.’

Muirchertach flushed. ‘I hardly think that. .’

‘You hardly think!’ snapped Aíbnat. ‘Return to your wine and leave the rulership of Connacht to your cousin. He is twice the man you will ever be.’

Fidelma knew that Muirchertach’s tánaiste was Dúnchad Muirisci of the Uí Fiachracha Muaide. There certainly did not seem to be any love lost between Muirchertach and his wife. She coughed slightly to bring their attention back to the matter in hand.

‘So, what you are saying, Muirchertach, is that you left here just before midnight and went to confront Abbot Ultán but found him dead. Is that so?’

She looked carefully into his eyes and he did not drop them before her bright quizzical gaze. His cheeks were flushed by his wife’s insults.

‘I did,’ he replied firmly.

‘But the only witnesses were those who saw you hurrying from his chamber?’

‘You have the word of a king, even though he is but a poor specimen of one,’ snapped Aíbnat. ‘His word should take precedence over anyone else’s.’

Fidelma could not help the pitying look that came to her features as she gazed at him.

Muirchertach shrugged defensively. ‘My word is all I have.’

Fidelma turned slightly. ‘Now, Aíbnat, did you remain here after Muirchertach had left?’

Aíbnat flushed.

‘What are you implying?’ she snapped.

‘I never imply,’ replied Fidelma waspishly. ‘I am asking a question. I do it for your own sake. After all, Searc was your sister. You blamed Abbot Ultán for her death and that was the reason why your husband, presumably on your behalf, went to see Ultán with the intention of doing him harm, even if he did not do so. At the moment, her death provides a strong motivation for Abbot Ultán’s killing. It could be argued that you both had an equal hand in this murder.’

‘It could be as you say,’ Aíbnat responded coldly after a few moments’ thought. ‘However, I was in this chamber the whole time. After my husband left, I did not stir.’

Fidelma sat in silence thinking over things for a few moments. Then she sighed.

‘I have to say, although the evidence is circumstantial, it is good enough to create real problems. It is evidence that will have to be answered before the Chief Brehon.’

Aíbnat stared at her in barely controlled irritation. ‘So you do not believe us?’

Fidelma looked sadly at her. ‘My first impression is that if Muirchertach had been guilty as he is accused, he could have made up a far better story than one which actually hands his accusers a motive for the slaughter.’

She rose suddenly to her feet and Muirchertach rose with her. He looked anxiously at her.

‘Will you undertake my defence?’ His tone was almost pleading.

‘I am always prepared to defend the innocent against a false accusation, Muirchertach,’ she said quietly. ‘Let me continue my investigation. It may well be in future that I will want Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham to assist me. Do you have any objection to his presence?’

‘A Saxon?’ snapped Aíbnat querulously.

‘Soon to be my official husband,’ she replied. ‘You may be aware that he has helped me on many investigations in the past.’

‘Of course,’ Muirchertach said at once. ‘Is that not the reason we came to Cashel, to witness the ceremony? I have no objection to speaking in front of Eadulf.’

That is good. We will speak again later.’

Fidelma encountered Eadulf as she was crossing one of the smaller courtyards. He was coming down the steps from the walkway round the fortress walls. When he asked what she had discovered, she drew him aside and quickly told him of her conversations with Muirchertach and his wife Aíbnat. Eadulf rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

‘This Muirchertach is either innocent or clever,’ he finally said.

Fidelma followed his train of thought. ‘You think that his willingness to confess to a motive, even to an intention of killing Abbot Ultán, and claiming someone else did it before he had a chance, is a sign of cleverness?’

‘It could well be,’ Eadulf replied. ‘To tell a story which so obviously points to his guilt has the effect of making one believe him innocent.’

‘That is devious thinking.’

‘It is surely so. And who knows better than you what lengths people may go to in order to mislead? If he knew that the story of his wife’s sister would be revealed, then best to confess it so that one could say that he was honest to his own detriment. Therefore, being so, he could not possible have committed the crime.’

‘I will bear it in mind,’ Fidelma acknowledged. ‘But if Muirchertach is truly innocent? What then?’

‘There are already enough suspects at Cashel.’ Eadulf smiled thinly.

‘You mean Abbot Augaire?’

‘Also Berrihert and his brothers.’

‘I had forgotten them,’ she confessed.

‘I met old Ordwulf on the walls just a short while ago. But I think we might discount them.’

‘Why so?’

‘Because they were in the hostel in the town last night and no one is admitted here without good reason once the fortress gates are closed for the night. None of them could have entered to do the deed. Ordwulf said that he entered only when the gates were opened at first light. From what he said, I think he came to see the abbot and was then told that he was dead. He does not disguise the fact that he is now rejoicing in that death.’