Peter Tremayne - Master of Souls

Fidelma asked: ‘What did you do on receipt of the news?’

‘As chance would have it, Conri, who is the Abbess Faife’s nephew, was at the abbey. He and his warriors elected to take Mugron back to the place to recover the body. It was still cold and the snow had preserved… er, preserved things. But there was no sign of the missing six religieuse. Conri and his men returned via Colman’s abbey in order to find out if Abbess Faife and her charges had passed that way before they reached the place where she was discovered.’ ‘And they had?’

Conri intervened. ‘As I told you, lady, all was normal until after they left the abbey of Colman. The Abbess Faife and her six charges had conducted their business there and passed on their way.’

‘And where is this stone cabin where her body was found in relation to the abbey?’

‘As one leaves the abbey and travels on to the peninsula of the land of the Corco Duibhne, along the road that runs south of the mountains by the shore, I would estimate that it was no more than twenty kilometres.’

Eadulf was frowning. ‘Isn’t that close by a place called the Island where once Uaman, who called himself Lord of the Passes, had his stronghold?’

Abbot Erc’s eyes narrowed. ‘Do you know of that place?’

‘I was once a prisoner of Uaman the Leper. I saw him die and I was not sorry to see his end.’

‘You are right, Brother Eadulf,’ affirmed Conri. ‘The blackened ruins of his stronghold, Uaman’s Tower, stand almost within sight of the place where the abbess’s body was found. They say that the local people destroyed it — the tower, that is.’

Eadulf’s lips thinned with grim satisfaction.

‘I can vouch for that destruction. I saw the people do it after Uaman was drowned, caught by the quicksand that made the journey to his island fortress at low tide so hazardous.’

‘People did suffer grievously through his actions,’ agreed Abbot Erc quietly. ‘Uaman’s bands extracted money from all who travelled through his territory. But I will say one word of good. There lingered in him a remembrance that he was once a prince of the Ui Fidgente and he never harmed the passing religious. Abbess Faife passed through his territory several times in safety on her annual pilgrimage to Breanainn’s mount.’

‘As Brother Eadulf says, Uaman is dead and his men dispersed,’ Conri pointed out quickly. ‘We must concentrate on what explanations now exist.’

Fidelma was sitting with her hands folded in her lap before her.

‘You say, then, this spot is near the coast? Is there any chance that some sea raiders could have come to shore there and carried off the six young women? Saxon and Frankish pirates have often attacked parts of our southern coast in search of such plunder.’

Abbot Erc considered this.

‘A possibility, perhaps. But the weather was very intemperate at that time, especially along these coasts. It would be a foolhardy captain who would lead a raid across the great oceans in such weather.’

‘A possibility not to be discounted, though,’ Fidelma said. ‘Merchant vessels land at these ports. Which reminds me, I would like to speak to this merchant, Mugron.’

‘He can be sent for,’ said Brother Cu Mara. ‘He can be here tomorrow, after the morning meal.’

‘That will be convenient,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘I feel that there is no more to be learnt until I see him. We will leave that matter aside. However, there is now the killing of the Venerable Cinaed to be discussed.’

Abbot Erc raised his head in surprise.

‘Are you claiming authority to conduct an investigation into Cinaed’s death as well as the death of Abbess Faife?’ he demanded. It was clear from his tone that he objected to the very idea.

‘I am a dalaigh,’ responded Fidelma quietly. ‘It is unusual for two prominent members of the same community to be murdered. We must ask if there is some connection between these two events.’

‘I don’t see how there could be,’ the abbot retorted in displeasure. ‘Abbess Faife could only have been killed by bandits. I presume that her companions have been abducted as slaves. However, Cinaed was bludgeoned to death in the oratory here. That could only be a result of malice. There seems no connection.’

‘I will make some inquiries all the same,’ Fidelma said firmly.

The old abbot gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment, realising that behind her quiet tone was a strong will. He shrugged as if he were no longer interested in what she did.

‘What do you wish to know?’

‘Let us begin with the finding of Cinaed’s body. I understand it was you who discovered it? And this was three days ago?’

‘I did. I went to the oratory to prepare for the annual ceremony to commemorate the feast day of te, who taught our beloved Brennain. Usually it was the Venerable Cinaed and myself who prepared the chapel for the ceremony. The place was in darkness and, at first, I did not think he was there. Then I found his body, behind the altar, with his skull smashed in.’

‘Show me where the wound was,’ said Fidelma.

The old abbot touched the back of his skull.

‘The corpse was lying face down…?’

Abbot Erc shook his head. ‘It was not. He lay upon his back.’

Fidelma pursed her lips but said nothing.

‘Was there any sign of a weapon?’ asked Eadulf.

‘None that we found.’

‘Yet it must have been a heavy weapon to deliver such a blow,’ Eadulf

Fidelma cast an appreciative glance at Eadulf and turned to the abbot.

‘Was anyone seen with blood on his or her clothing? Was a search made for any such clothing?’

It was clear that such a thought had not occurred to him. He glanced at his steward.

‘Well?’ he asked. ‘Was such a search made?’

The young steward spread his hands in a helpless gesture.

‘I will do so now,’ he said defensively.

Fidelma grimaced disapprovingly. ‘A little late, perhaps. But it will do no harm. I presume that there is a communal laundry for the brethren?’

‘There is, indeed, a tech-nigid, a washhouse,’ confirmed the steward.

‘And when is the washing done?’

‘Every week on Cet-ain, the day of the first fast.’

Eadulf’s face brightened. ‘That is tomorrow. So the laundry has not been done since the murder?’

‘I suppose not,’ replied Brother Cu Mara.

‘Who is in charge of the tech-nigid? ’ asked Fidelma.

It was Abbot Erc who responded.

‘At the moment it is Sister Sinnchene. Each month the task of being in charge of the washing is changed. It is Sinnchene’s turn this month.’

‘Sinnchene the young sister who looks after the hospitium?’ Fidelma turned to the steward, who nodded confirmation. ‘Ensure that nothing is touched. Nothing is to be washed until all the clothes are examined, which we will do tomorrow morning.’ She glanced at Eadulf. ‘I am afraid that will be your task while I am questioning the merchant Mugron. Conri’s two warriors will doubtless help you.’

Eadulf accepted the task without enthusiasm.

Fidelma turned back to Abbot Erc.

‘So much for the manner of his death. What of the manner of his life? His work was well known. Had he enemies who would want to take such extreme vengeance on him?’

Abbot Erc appeared shocked at the suggestion.

‘The Venerable Cinaed led a blameless life. Everyone loved him. He had no enemies.’

Fidelma smiled sceptically. ‘One thing I have learnt is that you do not

Abbot Erc was indignant. ‘The Venerable Cinaed was a great scholar.’

‘The greater the scholar, the more people grow envious,’ pointed out Eadulf.

Abbot Erc made a dismissing gesture with a frail hand.

‘Scholastic debate is encouraged here but that does not mean that those who disputed with the Venerable Cinaed would murder him because they did not like what he said. Even I did not agree with everything he taught.’