Peter Tremayne - The Leper's bell

Fidelma was staring at him blankly. ‘I don’t understand.’

Eadulf was patient. ‘Do you recall that Colgú wanted us to check the chest of clothes so that we could identify what clothes and footwear Alchú must have been wearing on the night Sárait took him out?’

Fidelma pursed her lips. ‘Vaguely.’

‘Vaguely would be right, for you were too upset to do it and asked me to check the chest.’

‘The chest?’ Fidelma cast a thoughtful glance at it, then gave an impatient gesture. ‘And so? What are you saying?’

‘Well, the shoe that you are now holding was in the chest when I looked. I mean the pair of shoes was there.’

‘Are you sure?’

Eadulf sniffed indignantly. ‘Perfectly sure. I would know them anywhere. Your brother had a cobbler make them especially for the little one.’ He pointed to the shoe that Fidelma was holding. ‘See the rawhide soles which I thought were too advanced for a baby of his age.’

A curious expression gathered on Fidelma’s face.

‘Do you remember when we returned to our chamber after it had been decided to demand proof from Alchú’s so-called abductors? Wasn’t Gormán lurking in the corridor by our chamber? He would have had an opportunity to take the shoes then.’

Eadulf cast his mind back, recalling the incident. ‘You believe Gormán to be involved?’

Fidelma’s features began to relax. ‘I think that I am beginning to see a light in this curious business, Eadulf,’ she said quietly. ‘I need to see Delia again.’

Eadulf shook his head. ‘It is midnight. Not exactly the right time to go visiting.’

Fidelma hesitated, and then laughed, with a deprecating shrug.

‘You are right. It’s been a tiring day, a tiring two weeks. I’ll go tomorrow. I don’t think the quarry we hunt will have fled.’

It was mid-morning when Fidelma rode down to Delia’s house. With Eadulf’s agreement, she had decided to approach the woman on her own.

Delia gazed uncertainly at Fidelma when she opened the door to her.

‘There is a purpose in your expression, lady. You look like a hunter who has sensed the quarry and is now moving in for the kill.’

Fidelma remembered her words to Eadulf on the previous night.

‘That is a good analogy, Delia. I have sensed the quarry but not yet driven it into the snare.’

‘How may I help?’ The former bé-táide stood aside and motioned her inside the warm little house. In the main chamber, where a fire smouldered, Fidelma sat down and indicated that Delia should do likewise.

‘Let me return to the conversation I had with you.’

‘About the missing cloak?’

‘That as well. I presume that you have told no one about it?’

‘Of course not. You asked me not to.’

‘I would ask you to keep this information quiet also. The dwarf who was sent with a false message to lure Sárait from the palace to her death has arrived in Cashel.’

Delia frowned. ‘But you told me he could not identify the woman?’

‘There may be other ways of identification.’

Delia compressed her lips for a moment but said nothing.

‘You mentioned when we last spoke about Sárait that she had told you that she had been raped?’

Delia nodded. ‘But she never told me who it was.’

‘I remember. Although I think we could deduce from what she said that the man was a warrior who had been at Cnoc Áine. Was it Gormán? Did he rape her?’

Delia flushed. ‘Never Gormán!’ she snapped. ‘He was in love with her.’

‘And he told you that?’ Fidelma said swiftly.

Delia opened her mouth and realised she had said more than she had meant to.

‘You might as well tell me everything,’ Fidelma said. ‘A warrior raped her. Did Sárait ever mention Gormán to you?’

At once spots of colour rose on Delia’s cheeks. ‘It could not have been Gormán.’

‘Are you in love with Gormán?’

To Fidelma’s surprise Delia started to laugh. ‘Of course I love Gormán,’ she said in amusement. ‘Is that forbidden?’

Fidelma was taken aback. She had not been prepared for the honesty of the reply. There was a long silence.

‘Let us move forward to something that is not in contention,’ she said at last. ‘Sárait had a stillborn child. It was born so long after Cnoc Áine that it could not have been the child of her husband Callada.’

Delia sat back, watching Fidelma carefully, but said nothing.

‘Clearly, the baby was conceived after her husband met his death. Was the child born of the rape?’

Delia hesitated.

‘It is important, Delia,’ Fidelma pressed. ‘I do not ask with frivolous intent. I believe that the father of her child was her killer.’

Delia stared in horror. ‘What about the Uí Fidgente and the ransom?’

‘A cunning ruse to set people on the wrong track. Linked with an accident of fate by which wandering strangers found the baby when it had been left to die in the woods, it did indeed lead me down the wrong path for a while.’

Delia was quiet for a few moments and then she shrugged.

‘You have presumed correctly, lady. The stillborn child was the result of the rape and Sárait was thankful that it died.’

Fidelma exhaled slowly. ‘It is sad that one gives thanks for the extinguishing of life. But I can understand her feelings. When did you know about this?’

‘I told you that Sárait first came to me within days of the rape to seek my advice — or rather she needed to talk to someone who would understand and not condemn her.’

‘Why not discuss this with her sister, Gobnat?’

‘Gobnat, as I have already said, was prudish. She would not have been the best of people to confide in. Sárait felt easier speaking to me. It was two months later that she came to me and said she was with child.’

‘And she told you her condition resulted from the rape? But she did not tell you who the father was?’

Delia nodded. ‘She could not stand it. She wanted to know how she might get rid of it before it was born.’

‘And you advised her?’

‘Do you mean that I, as a bé-táide , would naturally know of these things?’ There was some bitterness in Delia’s voice.

‘I do not mean that,’ snapped Fidelma. ‘I have looked at the Pharmacopoeia of Dioscorides and could probably name the eight herbs that he maintains induce a state whereby the unwanted pregnancy is aborted. I am simply asking whether you advised her.’

Delia blinked. ‘I advised her and I gave her some of the plants that I have used, those which are diuretics and laxatives. I used to buy rue from the merchants of Gaul and take it as an infusion, mixing it with water.’

‘But these remedies did not work.’

‘Obviously. And I advised Sárait against going to the physicians who would butcher her body. So she had the child.’

Fidelma was frowning. ‘Yet surely someone at Cashel would have known, would have suspected.’

Delia shook her head quickly. ‘She did not look pregnant. And when she realised that soon she would not be able to disguise it, I sent her to a cousin of mine who lived up in the mountains at Araglin. She stayed there some months.’

Fidelma raised her head slightly. ‘Araglin? I know that place.’

‘Well, she stayed there for a while, had the child and, as you know, it was stillborn. It was buried there in the mountains, and when she was well Sárait returned to Cashel. She was still lactating for her child. I heard that you were in search of a wet nurse and sent her to you.’

‘She never told me that you had sent her.’

‘I did not want to embarrass you, lady. I told her to present herself to you as the widow of Callada the warrior, which I considered was recommendation enough.’