Peter Tremayne - Master of Souls

‘Exactly so,’ confirmed Fidelma approvingly.

‘But what of my crew, my ship?’ demanded Esumaro angrily. ‘What had they to do with anything?’

‘As I have said, you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,’ Fidelma assured him. ‘Olcan must have seen your ship being driven into the bay in the bad weather. He thought it was a godsend to his master. Who knows what goods might be aboard? Olcan was a perverse and evil man. He strung up the light to misdirect you on to the rocks and…’ She shrugged. ‘He stored the goods in the ruined fortress to await a more suitable time to bring his warship around the coast from Seanach’s Island to pick it up. But you survived, Esumaro. You were the only survivor. You brought us a particular piece of important information that helped me reconstruct the story.’

‘What was that?’ demanded the seaman.

‘You heard Olcan telling his men about the rendezvous with the abbess and her companions, showing that he had been informed precisely when they would be passing along that road. In trying to escape from Olcan and his robbers in the early hours after the wreck, you fell in with Abbess Faife and nearly shared her fate. Thanks to Sister Easdan there, and more than a little luck, you survived.’

She had their complete attention now. They were leaning forward in their seats, hanging on her every word. Even the Venerable Mac Faosma was sitting attentive and quiet.

‘The precious stones were going to be the real key for raising money to pay an army of mercenaries, warriors from the north, the Ui Maine and Ui Briuin Ai, the sort of scum that Olcan was leading, to help overthrow Donennach.’

She paused and looked towards Sister Easdan.

‘Now, one thing especially interested me. This abbey was certainly known for producing polished stones and jewellery. For having expert lec-garaid or stone polishers. But Abbot Erc did not like individuals to be named. He wanted the abbey to have the reputation but did not want to encourage individuals to share it because of vanity. So who identified the six workers who went off with Abbess Faife on the annual pilgrimage to Breanainn’s? I found that the pilgrims comprised different groups each year. So who told the so-called “master”, and thereby Olcan, who they were and that they would be passing along that road on that particular day?’

She paused as she studied their upturned expectant faces.

‘Only someone from inside the abbey could have had such information.’

It was the steward Brother Cu Mara who articulated the conclusion. ‘Are you saying that someone here connived in the murder of their own abbess and the abduction of six of our members?’ he demanded.

‘Who?’ demanded Abbot Erc. His features had grown less aggressive.

‘Who else but Eoganan’s third child, the so-called “master” who, having been fostered by Slebene of the Corco Duibhne, then came to dwell in this abbey. When Uaman was killed they realised they might legitimately claim the chiefship of the Ui Fidgente but it needed an army, and an army needed money.’

Slebene had turned pale, his eyes flashing with anger.

Conri was on his feet, slowly moving towards him.

‘Name the man, Fidelma,’ he instructed, hand on the hilt of his sword.

‘Did I say that this “master” was a man?’ Fidelma let her eyes roam the upturned faces before her. Then she said: ‘Stand forth, Uallach, daughter of Eoganan.’

‘Uallach!’ Conri suddenly swung his gaze on Sister Uallann, the abbey physician. He thought that the name was familiar. She was fiercely supportive of the deposed Ui Fidgente chieftain, against the peace with Cashel, and admitted that she had been raised among the Corco Duibhne. Of course, it made sense. The physician did not move, her pale eyes fixed on Fidelma.

‘Not Uallann,’ Fidelma said softly. ‘Someone trying to hide their true name would not choose another so close to it.’

It was then that Conr realised that Fidelma was looking directly at Sister Buan.

‘Stand up, Uallach. You do not have to deny it,’ she instructed quietly. Sister Buan rose slowly to her feet. Her face was contorted with a mixture of emotions.

‘You consider that you are very clever, Fidelma of Cashel. My regret is that I failed in both my attempts to kill you. That was remiss of me.’

There was a gasp from the assembly.

‘For my part, Uallach, I am grateful that you did not succeed,’ Fidelma replied calmly.

Abbot Erc was regarding them both with utter bewilderment on his features.

‘I think we deserve some explanation, Sister Fidelma. I have no idea of how you can make this accusation. We have known Sister Buan for many years. She has been trusted with trading for this abbey. She was… she was the Venerable Cinaed’s companion and he would hardly support the aspirations of a child of Eoganan!’

‘I shall show that the person you knew as Sister Buan was, in reality, Uallach, daughter of the late ruler of the Ui Fidgente, sister to Uaman the Leper. It was Buan who arranged for the abduction of the six gem polishers from this abbey. Buan was one of the few people in the abbey who had the freedom to move about the country in her position of trader. Olcan and his men worked for her. Because she was in many ways like Uaman, her brother, she donned a robe and people thought she was Uaman still alive. She was responsible for the death of the Abbess Faife and what

‘Only Olcan knew that Uaman was not the “master”. He told me so on the night before Buan, whom he trusted, murdered him…’

The murmur erupted into a chorus of angry voices.

Abbot Erc had to raise his voice to make himself heard.

‘You will have to prove these accusations,’ he said, still filled with doubt.

‘Oh, indeed, I shall. I shall take you through it with each piece of evidence.’

Conr had nearly reached Slebene but the chief of the Corco Duibhne was on his feet.

He drew a short sword, which he had hidden under his cloak.

‘Time for a strategic withdrawal, Uallach,’ he called.

‘Don’t be stupid, Slebene!’ Conri cried, his own sword drawn. ‘You have no chance of leaving here.’

‘Do I not?’ sneered Slebene. ‘Then look to the windows, my friend. There are arrows aimed at Fidelma of Cashel and at the abbot. If anyone moves against us to prevent us leaving here, then they will be the first to die. Conri, put down your sword now and tell you warriors to stand aside from the door and do the same. Do it now or Fidelma dies!’

Eyes had flitted to the windows on either side of the oratory. Through the slits two of Slebene’s warriors with drawn bows, arrows steadily pointed at their targets, could be seen. One of them was the red-haired champion. The chief of the Corco Duibhne had not told lies. The arrows were well aimed.

Conri, with a hiss of anger, dropped his weapon and stood back.

‘Now tell your man to move away from the door!’

Conr did so and Socht and his companions reluctantly discarded their weapons and stood aside.

Sister Buan, the woman Fidelma had identified as Uallach, was staring at her with features contorted with hate. She did not seem in a hurry to leave.

‘Come, Uallach!’ cried Slebene. ‘There is no time-’

‘Kill them!’ the woman suddenly screamed. ‘Kill them all!’

The abbot flinched and closed his eyes waiting for the impact of the arrow but Fidelma stood firmly returning Sister Buan’s malignant gaze.

Luckily it was Slebene who was in command of his warriors and they waited for his orders. He realised that if his men loosed their arrows, Fidelma and Abbot Erc might die but he would have no chance of escape from the oratory. The threat that his own death would almost certainly result prevented him from giving the order.