Peter Tremayne - Master of Souls

Brother Eolas sniffed in irritation at Conri’s demanding manner.

‘The library is closed. You will have to return tomorrow.’ He inclined his head in farewell to his companions and turned on his heel.

Sister Buan and Sister Uallann seemed to decide their presence was no longer required, muttered an excuse, and also left, leaving Conr looking a little crestfallen.

‘I thought that it might have given us some further information,’ he

Eadulf was shaking his head in disagreement but he said: ‘There must be a means of getting Olcan to talk further about this master.’

Fidelma was not optimistic.

‘I doubt it.’ She found that the steward, who had waited outside so that he could ensure the cell was locked, was still standing with them. ‘We will not detain you further, Brother Cu Mara,’ she said, bidding him good night before leading the way back to the hospitium. Once out of earshot of the steward she lowered her voice.

‘I’ll wait until tomorrow, but I now realise that I may have something up my sleeve that might induce our friend Olcan to talk. He has a close relation in the abbey and that fact may induce him to speak.’

Conr and Eadulf stared at her in surprise but her expression forbade any further questioning.

Brother Cu Mara reached for the key and unlocked the cell door.

It was dark inside. The lamp had been allowed to go out, so the steward held up the candle he had brought with him.

The first thing that Fidelma, who was standing at his shoulder, noticed was that Olcan was sitting on his bed with his back to the wall. He was slightly slumped forward. Then she saw a dark stain on his tunic just below his heart.

She called to the steward to stand aside, took the candle from his hand, and went forward. She knew what she would find even before she touched the cold body.

‘He’s dead,’ she announced.

The steward let out a long gasp of breath.

‘A single stab to the heart,’ she continued, holding the candle nearer to the wound.

‘But he had no knife,’ protested Brother Cu Mara. ‘I made sure of that. Even when his food was brought to him, it was already cut.’

Fidelma turned with a grim face.

‘This was no self-inflicted wound. Olcan was murdered.’

The steward stared at her with wide, frightened eyes.

Fidelma was annoyed with herself for not pressing Olcan harder the evening before with her questions. She had thought of an idea which might have led the man to start talking, but she had kept it to herself, thinking to use it this morning if he was still uncooperative. Now it was too late. One thing she now knew for certain was that the Ui Fidgente warrior was a mere pawn in this strange mystery and not its chief architect. But her suspicion that whoever was behind the mystery was connected with the abbey itself seemed confirmed.

She gazed down a moment on the corpse and then turned to Brother Cu Mara.

‘You had better inform the abbot and also the physician, Sister Uallann.’ She glanced quickly round the cell before returning her gaze back to the dead body. ‘There is nothing more in here for me.’

Brother Cu Mara relocked the cell after they exited. As he was about to leave to find the physician Fidelma halted him.

‘One question for you, Brother Cu Mara — do you remember when I questioned you and Sister Sinnchene together?’

Reluctantly, the steward nodded.

‘Do you have cause to visit the workroom where the members of the community polish and prepare gemstones?’

Brother Cu Mara was clearly puzzled by the question, but acknowledged that he did. ‘I am the steward. It is my task to see that everything is in order. I visit all the workshops regularly.’

‘Very well. You can find Sister Uallann now.’

She knew what she had to do first as she watched him hurry off in search of the physician. Her expression hardened a little as she walked towards the hospitium buildings.

She found Sister Sinnchene engaged in the task of sweeping the floor.

‘I have some bad news for you,’ she announced without preamble.

Sister Sinnchene straightened and returned her gaze uncertainly, perhaps with a little hostility. She waited in silence.

‘It is about your father,’ Fidelma said.

At that the young woman blinked but fought to control her features. She still made no reply.

‘It is about Olcan.’

Sister Sinnchene’s chin came up defiantly.

‘What makes you think Olcan is my father?’ she demanded belligerently.

Sister Fidelma was unrelenting.

‘You fainted when you saw Conr

’s prisoner being brought into the abbey yesterday afternoon.’

The girl replied sourly. ‘There can be any number of reasons for fainting

‘But the one which caused you to pass out,’ Fidelma replied, ‘was the shock you had when you beheld your father in manacles.’

‘That is a weak reason to accuse me of being Olcan’s daughter.’

‘Then let me give you the other reasons. Olcan’s name means “wolf” and his warriors were known as the “wolf clan”. Your mother, I understand, died a few years ago of the pestilence. Didn’t she tell the merchant, Mugron, that your father was named “wolf” and he was known as “chief of the wolf clan” and that is why you were named “little vixen”?’

Sister Sinnchene stared at her for a moment or two and then it seemed she let her shoulders relax.

‘My father walked out on my mother when I was twelve years old. I had not seen him from that day until I saw him walk through the gates of the abbey as Conri’s prisoner.’ She spoke slowly and clearly. ‘Even when my mother was dying of the Yellow Plague, he did not return, and that was well before the battle of Cnoc Aine when he could have easily come to us. He never came to her funeral. So what misdeeds he has done are nothing to me.’

Fidelma saw the bitterness in her eyes.

‘So for nearly ten years you have had no contact with him?’

‘I have said as much.’

‘But you could still recognise him?’

Sister Sinnchene shrugged.

‘His image was burned in my memory all these years; years when I needed a father and prayed each day for his return. He had aged a little but I recognised him.’

‘Do you know why he deserted your mother and you?’

She shook her head. ‘The word was that he had led his warriors in raids to the north, against the U

Fiachrach Aidne, the U

Briuin Seola and the northern clans. Then, after Eoganan fell at Cnoc Aine and the Ui Fidgente surrendered to Cashel, there was word that my father refused to swear allegiance to the new chief Donennach. I heard he was raiding in the south and in the war band of Uaman…’

‘Uaman the Leper?’

The girl nodded. ‘Uaman was not a leper then but simply Lord of the Passes on the southern Ui Fidgente borders.’

‘How did you come by this knowledge?’

‘I heard talk from travellers.’

‘Mugron the merchant knew about your father,’ Fidelma pointed out.

‘He knew of my father because my mother told him. But I do not believe he could identify him. He knew only that my father had deserted my mother and me.’

‘How did your mother know Mugron?’

‘Because, after my father left, my mother went to live near An Bhearbha, near the port where Mugron has his base.’ She suddenly turned wide pleading eyes upon Fidelma. ‘Olcan has not recognised me, has he?’

Fidelma frowned at the question.

‘He has not mentioned you,’ she said truthfully. ‘Why do you ask?’

Sister Sinnchene ignored the question. ‘Then I would ask you a favour. Do not reveal that I am his daughter.’

‘Why?’

‘Because if he did not want to acknowledge me, there is no reason for me to acknowledge him now.’