Peter Tremayne - Badger's Moon

‘This is my companion, Brother Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham,’ she said, to complete the introductions.

The three bowed again, but this time without the hands placed on their breasts.

‘Let us all be seated,’ she suggested.

Chairs were brought forward for the three strangers. When they were seated, Fidelma glanced towards Abbot Brogán.

‘Do I have your permission to continue?’

The abbot made a quick gesture of assent.

Fidelma turned back and addressed herself to the stranger who seemed to be the spokesmen.

‘Do you all speak the language of my people?’ she asked.

The man’s expression did not change. ‘I have learnt only a little of your language. My knowledge is limited. My companions do not speak it.’

‘What language do you speak?’

‘Our language is called Ge’ez. It is the language of the kingdom of Aksum.’

He spoke with some pride. Fidelma had to confess to herself that she had never heard of either the language or the country. The stranger saw her look of dismay, and still without a change of expression said: ‘While I have a limited knowledge of the language of your people, we all speak the language of the Greeks, and a little Latin, as well as several of the other languages which border our country.’

Fidelma felt relief. Greek was the language of the original movement of the New Faith, the language of the sacred texts. She had studied it for many years and delighted in reading the ancient philosophers of Greece in their original tongue. She knew that Eadulf also had command of the language and she glanced apologetically at the abbot.

‘Would there be any objection to continuing this conversation in Greek, that we may more quickly discover the information I require?’

The abbot shifted uneasily in his seat. ‘My knowledge of Greek is confined to the Holy Scriptures and may scarcely be competent to comprehend such a conversation. Nevertheless, I am content that you should continue as you wish, Fidelma of Cashel.’

Fidelma sat back, glancing briefly at Eadulf to assure herself that he had no objections.

‘That is good,’ she said, switching to Greek ‘Now let us introduce ourselves properly.’

The leading member of the trio inclined his head. ‘I am Brother Dangila and my companions are Brother Nakfa, on my left, and Brother Gambela, on my right.’

‘And are you all from this kingdom called Aksum?’

‘We are.’

‘Can you tell me where this kingdom is?’

‘It is a land beyond Egypt, situated between the Red Sea and the Atbara River. Have you not heard of Aksum’s great port Adulis with its churches and palaces? Adulis gives to the world gold, emeralds, obsidian, ivory and spices.’

Fidelma shook her head slowly. ‘I know nothing of the lands beyond Egypt. I have not heard of Aksum. Are there Christians in your land?’

For the first time the expressions on the handsome faces before her softened and almost broke into smiles.

‘Know this, Fidelma of Cashel, that it was well over four centuries ago that our King Ezana ordained that Aksum would be a Christian kingdom. We were the first kingdom in the history of the New Faith to become Christian. It was Frumentius from Syria who taught Ezana and brought light to us, for we are the true descendants of the Hebrews and David was our king. It is among us that the Ark of the Covenant resides in which the Decalogue is kept.’

Fidelma was hard pressed not to allow her features to stare in amazement at the words of Brother Dangila. The Decalogue was the religious and moral guidelines that God had given Moses on Mount Sinai.

‘Your kingdom sounds most fascinating and on some other occasion I would hear more of it. But I am here in my official capacity,’ she said regretfully.

Brother Dangila inclined his head slightly. ‘If I have interpreted correctly, you are a judge as well as being sister to the king of this land?’

‘It is so. When the laws of this kingdom are transgressed, my role is to inquire into the matter and discover who is the culprit.’

‘We understand.’

‘As you are aware, there have been three young women killed near this abbey.’

‘We have realised this,’ Brother Dangila replied. ‘Outside, the people believe that we have been the cause of these unfortunate deaths. We are blessed that Abbot Brogán has protected us within the walls of his abbey.’

‘Why do you think the people outside believe that you are responsible for the deaths?’

Now, for the first time, Brother Dangila smiled broadly. ‘You have looked upon us, Fidelma of Cashel. Therein is the reason.’

‘Explain.’

‘I would have thought no explanation was needed to one of your intelligence. Are we not physically different from you and your people?’

‘I cannot deny that. But, being so, why would that make you suspect?’

‘Come, diplomacy is not needed. Dogs bark at people they do not know.’

Fidelma responded with a smile. ‘So, you say that you are accused because it is obvious that you are strangers?’

Brother Dangila held out an arm and pushed back its sleeve to reveal bare flesh.

‘Hold out your arm, Fidelma of Cashel, and place it next to mine.’

She did so, also drawing back her sleeve.

The black and white skins were side by side.

‘Need we say more about the differences? Ignorance breeds prejudice, prejudice breeds fear, fear breeds hate.’

Fidelma grimaced and withdrew her arm.

‘It is a sad fault of man,’ she agreed. ‘Nevertheless, I am constrained by law to investigate this matter to the point where evidence must be the deciding factor. My people have an old saying — the lie will pass away and the truth will remain.’

Brother Dangila sat back. ‘Ask of us what you will.’

‘Let us start at the time of the last full moon, when the girl Ballgel was killed. Where were you and your fellows that night?’

‘Here in the abbey,’ came the swift reply.

‘And were there witnesses to this?’

‘Brother Dangila looked swiftly at his fellows in turn before returning his unfathomable gaze to her.

‘We were in the guests’ dormitory, having retired to bed after the midnight Angelus, and we did not stir until the morning Angelus bell,’ he said.

‘That is not exactly true.’

For the first time, Brother Gambela spoke. A soft, almost feminine voice. Brother Dangila swung round, a slight irritation on his face.

‘Not exactly true?’ queried Fidelma. ‘Explain, please, Brother Gambela.’

‘I could not sleep immediately and while I can testify that my companions fell asleep on retiring I could not. My mouth was dry and so I went in search of water in the hope that I would settle to sleep after a drink to quench my thirst.’

‘And did you find water?’ asked Fidelma.

‘I went to the kitchens and drank my fill and then returned to bed.’

‘What time was this? Did anyone see you?’

‘I do not know. It could not have been more than an hour after midnight. And, yes, someone saw me.’

‘Who?’

‘I did.’ It was Abbot Brogán who spoke. ‘I returned from Becc’s feasting some time after midnight. I think I left the chief’s fortress shortly after midnight and it would take me no more than half to three-quarters of an hour to walk back to the abbey. I entered and saw Brother Gambela coming from the direction of the kitchen and we bade one another a good night.’

‘Last month, at the time of the full moon, the girl Escrach was killed. Where were you all then?’

‘I believe that we were all in the abbey once again that night,’ replied Brother Dangila.

Fidelma paused, looking from one to the other of the bland expressions on the faces of the three men.