Peter Tremayne - Master of Souls

‘There are many who have secrets here, Eadulf,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘The question is, are those secrets connected with the activities of Seanach’s Island?’

‘Hopefully, we will know when Conri returns.’

‘Perhaps,’ she replied in a non-committal fashion. ‘I hope we will be able to find out more even before that time. Let us get back to the hospitium.’

They were leaving the main building when Eadulf suddenly halted and apologised to Fidelma, saying he would catch up with her in a moment. Fidelma saw that he was heading towards the male defaecatorium. She paused under a hanging lantern to wait for him.

‘Sister Fidelma!’

Fidelma swung round at the sound of her name.

It was Sister Buan, emerging out of the shadows.

‘I am glad to see your return.’ The sharp-faced woman smiled. ‘I have been worrying a little about the matter we spoke of.’

‘The matter we spoke of?’ frowned Fidelma, trying to stir her memory.

A look of dismay crossed the other’s face. She raised a hand to her cheek.

‘Oh, you have forgotten! I was hoping that you would resolve the legal problem for me. I know that you have other things… more important things… on your mind. But…’

Memory came back to Fidelma in a flash. So much had happened in the meantime. She had given the matter thought before she had left Ard Fhearta to join Mugron’s ship. She smiled apologetically, and held out a hand to catch the sleeve of the apparently embarrassed Sister Buan as she was about to turn away.

‘You must forgive me, Sister. You are right. There is much on my mind. But I have been checking on your situation. I can tell you the position now, if you like. It is not complicated.’

‘Come inside my chamber and let us be comfortable while you tell me. My chamber, as you may recall, is just here.’ The woman indicated a doorway. She seemed almost fawning now in her eagerness. Fidelma felt sorry for her. She was about to explain her hesitation when Eadulf came hurrying up through the darkness.

‘Ah, there you are…’ He paused when he realised that Fidelma was not alone. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘I did not see that you were with Sister Buan.’

Fidelma gestured towards the door that Sister Buan had just opened.

‘I am just going to explain some law to Sister Buan. It will not take a moment, so you can come in and wait for me.’

Sister Buan was immediately deprecating.

‘It does not matter, Sister. Come and see me when you are not so pressed. I do not want to keep you from your companion.’

Fidelma shook her head with a smile.

‘There is no time like the present. It will not take long. And you are right, I have kept you waiting long enough for the information.’

Sister Buan was almost reluctant as Fidelma and Eadulf entered her chamber and seated themselves. Afterwards, Fidelma realised that Buan might have been embarrassed to discuss her marriage contract before Eadulf, but by then it was too late.

‘When we were last here, Buan, you told me that Abbot Erc had been against your marriage to the Venerable Cinaed but you had legally been married by an ordained priest from the abbey of Colman. Can that be proved?’

The woman nodded quickly. ‘It can.’

‘Therefore, under the law, you are legally a cetmuintir.’

‘That was my understanding.’

‘You asked me for a legal opinion as to whether in these circumstances you could keep the possessions of the Venerable Cinaed, your late husband, and seek some compensation for the manner in which he met his death.’

‘I did so.’

‘I examined the law texts in the abbey library. As I see it, the Dire text puts limitations on your ability to make a contract without the authorisation of your father, a foster father, or, as a member of the religieuse, the abbess or abbot of your community. But even with those limitations, and even in a marriage, such as apparently yours was, where a wife has brought no goods or property into the marriage, the wife can still impugn contracts relating to personal goods.’

‘What does that mean, Sister?’ asked the woman, looking bewildered.

‘I am sorry.’ Fidelma smiled. ‘I should say that the Bretha Crolige, one of our central law texts, says that you can go before a Brehon and be assessed by that judge in proportion to your miad, that is a legal term meaning your “dignity” or worth, rather like an honour-price. In other words, you can claim compensation. In fact, as a religieuse you are better off than a lay person. Your rank as a lay person, from what you say, would be a lesser rank than that of the Venerable Cinaed. But here, in the abbey, as a religieuse you are recognised as being part of a marriage of equals. Therefore the division of inheritable assets, the dibad, means that you inherit two-thirds of the assets of Cinaed while one-third has to go to the abbey.’

Sister Buan smiled broadly.

‘It is so kind of you to have taken this trouble for me, Sister. I have been really worried. The law can be very frightening.’

‘Dura lex sed lex,’ intoned Eadulf solemnly.

‘Exactly so,’ agreed Sister Buan with a smile of relief. ‘It is good to know that I have a legal right to retain something.’

Fidelma rose and Eadulf with her.

‘I am only too glad to be of some help.’

‘Are you any the closer to finding out who killed Cinaed?’ asked Sister Buan as they were crossing the threshold. ‘It is frightening to think that someone in this abbey is his killer and not yet discovered.’

‘You need have no fear,’ Fidelma replied with assurance. ‘I am

They left Sister Buan and made their way back to the hospitium as the abbey bell began tolling the hour of the final prayers of the evening.

After they had eaten the next morning, Fidelma asked Sister Easdan to show her and Eadulf to the workroom where she and her companions plied their art. Sister Sinnchene, who seemed in a slightly more agreeable mood, came to tidy the hospitium and asked if there was anything else that was required of her that morning as she had to distribute the robes that she had washed the previous day to members of the community. Fidelma had not forgotten that one of Sister Sinnchene’s chores at present was running the tech-nigid or washing room of the abbey.

‘I think not,’ Fidelma replied. ‘If anyone wants us we shall be at the workshop where Sister Easdan and her companions worked.’

It was an isolated two-storey building with a flat roof, situated on the southern side of the abbey complex, sticking out at right angles to the main dormitory building but separated from it by a narrow passageway. It had been built on the south side, Sister Easdan explained, so that it caught the maximum amount of sun. Light was precious to the task of cutting and polishing the stones. The workroom contained a long central table or workbench, access to water and, along one side, a series of cupboards and other benches with all manner of implements and tools.

Fidelma stood still on the threshold, casting her eye about the place. ‘What is it that you wish to see, lady?’ asked Sister Easdan. ‘The place looks exactly as we left it.’

‘You and your companions were all known as experts in this art, that of stone polishing?’

‘Known only within the abbey,’ the girl corrected pedantically. ‘We were, indeed.’

‘But surely your names and reputation were known outside the abbey?’

‘The abbey was well known for our work but Abbot Erc insisted that we should not be known by name outside the abbey.’

‘Why was that?’

‘Because he wanted the reputation for the abbey, I suppose, and not for individuals. He wanted to avoid personal vanity.’