Peter Tremayne - Master of Souls

‘But it is still the law now,’ the girl said stubbornly.

‘And this is what Cinaed wanted as well as you?’

‘Of course.’

‘And he said as much to Sister Buan?’

‘He did.’

Fidelma exhaled softly.

‘And what if Sister Buan denied that he said this?’

‘Then she would be lying.’

‘Could you prove that this happened? Were there any witnesses?’

Sister Sinnchene hesitated a moment and then shook her head.

‘Nevertheless, it does not alter the fact that it is the truth,’ she said defiantly.

Fidelma noticed that the girl’s robe had loosened around her neck and caught a glimpse of a necklet of semi-precious stones.

‘That is hardly the jewellery one expects a member of this community to wear,’ she observed drily.

Sister Sinnchene’s hand went to her neck and then she shrugged. She lowered it to reveal a glittering necklet of silver set with amethysts and topaz.

‘Cinaed gave it me,’ she said quietly. ‘He told me to keep it safe, to let no one here see it.’

‘Why?’

‘It will not hurt to tell now, I suppose. He said that it was evidence.’

‘Evidence of what?’

‘He did not explain. Perhaps evidence of his love for me.’

‘Well, let us accept what you say,’ Fidelma finally said. ‘The evening before his death, the Venerable Cinaed came to this washing room and you were here?’

‘That is correct,’ confirmed the girl.

‘And accepting that you were lovers, what other than the obvious transpired? Did you talk?’

The girl looked irritated.

‘We were not animals,’ she replied angrily. ‘Of course we talked.’

‘What was the subject of conversation? Did you speak of philosophy, theology, history… what?’

Fidelma knew she was being a little sarcastic with the girl for it was obvious that she was no more of a scholar than Sister Buan. In fact, the dalaigh was beginning to wonder what sort of person the Venerable Cinaed really was behind his great reputation as a scholar.

Sister Sinnchene was looking sourly at her.

‘You seem to think that our relationship was based on lust,’ she said.

‘I am trying to understand it,’ Fidelma confessed.

‘We spoke of life, not dead, musty books; not of the past, or the future, nor of things unseen that had no immediate concern for us.’

‘Life?’

‘Cinaed had a great lust for life. He observed everything. The seasons, the weather, the plants growing. He was a very active man. Had he not spent most of his life in the shadow of dark libraries, he would have been a gardener.’

‘And this was the subject of the conversation that evening?’

‘We talked about the herb garden and ways to improve it but we also talked about Sister Buan.’

‘Ah. What about Sister Buan?’

‘Don’t get me wrong. Cinaed had a very generous spirit and felt deeply for Buan. She was fostered in the land of the Corco Duibhne. I presume she was an orphan and later came to the abbey when she was still young to escape poverty. She fulfilled a part of Cinaed’s life. She mothered him, did his cleaning, prepared food for him — for he liked to eat separately from the community most times. She was not his lover but a… a…’ The girl struggled to find the right word.

‘Housekeeper?’ suggested Fidelma.

The girl nodded. ‘Exactly so. But she filled no other need. He was no longer intimate with her.’

‘So, if Sister Buan believed that he was impotent, you would argue that it was because of his rejection of her in bed?’

Sister Sinnchene gestured disdainfully. ‘I don’t think they even slept in the same bed.’

‘But he had no such inhibition with you?’ Fidelma asked softly.

‘We enjoyed our physical beings. That is no sin.’

Fidelma shook her head. ‘The old laws make allowance for human nature provided it offers no harm to others. But you should know, Sister Sinnchene, that the New Faith preaches a different attitude. Sexual intercourse with someone other than one’s spouse or indulging in general sexual infidelity, even in thought and word as well as deed, is considered a sin. Holy Scripture says the Christ put an emphasis on such infidelity as a sin against someone as well as with someone. Such sexual activity is considered a rejection of the divine intention.’

Sister Sinnchene stared at Fidelma. ‘That which gives pleasure cannot be sinful otherwise God would not have created it.’

Fidelma had to admit that she could accept that Sister Sinnchene was probably right.

‘We have to accept the guidelines given by Paul in his letter to the Corinthians when he called on Christians to deal decisively with sexual immorality in the communities.’

Sister Sinnchene sniffed deprecatingly.

‘You sound like the Venerable Mac Faosma,’ she muttered.

‘In what way?’ demanded Fidelma.

‘He preached such a sermon to me as you do. Yet I feel that your heart is not in it as was his.’

Fidelma’s brows came together in a defensive look, angered that this girl could see the doubts in her own mind.

‘Are you saying that the Venerable Mac Faosma knew about your relationship with Cinaed?’ she asked.

‘He did. Some weeks ago, he came unexpectedly into the tech-nigid and… well.’ She shrugged. ‘He saw us.’

‘What happened? What did he say?’ Fidelma asked curiously.

‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing?’ repeated Fidelma.

‘He simply turned and walked out. Then a few days later he met me outside the oratory and started to give me this homily about the new sexual morality. He was more scholarly than you are, Sister,’ she added with a grin. ‘He quoted so many sources, gospels and epistles that I thought I would go mad.’

‘Did he raise the matter with the Venerable Cinaed?’

‘He never did.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because I told Cinaed and asked him if the old… if the Venerable Mac Faosma had approached him. He told me that he had not mentioned it.’

‘I see.’

Fidelma was silent for a while and then shook her head.

‘Let us return to that evening — the evening before Cinaed’s death. You say that you were in the washing room? You have… you had intercourse and then talked about the herb garden and then the problem with Cinaed’s wife, Buan. Is that correct?’

‘Not necessarily in that order,’ interposed Sister Sinnchene.

‘In whatever order,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘Then what? Did he simply leave?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Then what exactly?’

‘The time was passing and it was dark and Cinaed began to worry that Buan would get suspicious that he was with me…’

‘Suspicious? I thought she knew what was going on from your own lips… from both Cinaed and yourself?’

‘That is true but we did not want her making a fuss, raising a search among the brethren and having a public confrontation. Abbot Erc is of the same mentality as the Venerable Mac Faosma. I think he would entertain the idea of throwing out the old laws and putting in their place the laws of the New Faith, as I have heard some have.’

‘Do you mean the Penitentials?’

The girl nodded.

‘And so what happened then?’

‘It grew late and Cinaed rose and said he would see me at the Feast of the Blessed Ite, which fell on the next day. It is held every year in the little oratory.’

‘And he seemed all right?’

‘I am not sure what you mean? He was in good health, yes.’

‘And in good spirits?’

‘He was in excellent spirits and was talking about some new work that he had written in Latin which he said would annoy Mac Faosma. They were enemies, you know. Enemies fighting with their pens. He would argue and Mac Faosma would respond and so back and forth. I never understood much of it. But that was only one part of his life. But this was something that especially seemed to put him in a good humour and he went away chuckling and… and…’