Peter Tremayne - Badger's Moon

Brother Gambela raised his head a little, his face, like his companions’, lighting up with enthusiasm.

‘We discovered, while we were at the house of Molaga, that this abbey possesses a copy of De Mirabilius Sacrae Scripturae in which the good Brother Augustine speaks of the importance of the moon. He argues that it was at the full moon that the Passion of Christ took place…’

Eadulf suddenly leant forward with a suspicious frown.

‘You Aksumite brothers seem extremely interested in the full moon,’ he said pointedly.

Brother Dangila turned to him with a disarming smile. ‘What person can ignore the full moon and its consequences?’

‘Its consequences?’ Fidelma spoke sharply, suddenly alert to a possible significance in his words.

‘Isn’t that why you are interested in these deaths, Sister?’ countered Brother Dangila impassively. ‘I am told that your people place great weight on the fact that these local deaths have occurred at the full of the moon.’

‘What consequences do you speak of, Brother Dangila?’ demanded Fidelma, feeling that the impassive face of the Aksumite hid more than he was revealing.

‘The flood tide begins three days and twelve hours before the full moon, and after completing its course it comes to an end after an equal length of time. This fact is according to your scholar, the Brother Aibhistín. Now if the tides are drawn into such intensity at the time of the full moon, then how much are the emotions of man so roused to flood and ebb? Is there not liquid that flows within our bodies that might respond to the moon as does the liquid of the seas?’

Fidelma pursed her lips thoughtfully.

‘It is possible,’ she admitted. ‘And so, with such interests, one of you might have been seated on the hillside making observations that night of the full moon when Brocc happened to come along.’

Brother Dangila’s mask almost slipped into a grin, but only for a moment.

‘That is also possible,’ he answered gravely.

‘And was any of you doing so?’

‘We have dealt with that matter, Sister. Let us avoid playing such games as catch as catch can.’

Fidelma knew that she would be unable to move forward on the matter and so she tried another tack.

‘Do the local people here know that you have this interest in the moon and its behaviour?’ she queried.

Brother Dangila stretched his arms in an eloquent gesture of indifference. ‘We have made no attempt to hide our studies. Abbot Brogán is well aware of our interests.’

The abbot nodded swiftly in confirmation. ‘It is so, Sister Fidelma. The brothers here have never hidden from me, nor anyone in this abbey, their passion for examining the celestial bodies.’

‘But if this be known,’ Eadulf pointed out, ‘then it would add to the suspicions of the local people. The sight of one or other of you seated on a hill making observations of the moon would fuel such suspicions. Surely you should now explain the reasons for this, to avoid mistrust? I think this is what you are telling us. That Brocc did see one of you on the hill and that this was what you were doing. Why not tell us who it was? We will hear your explanation.’

‘In our land of Aksum we have a saying that it is only lack of knowledge that makes people suspicious,’ Brother Dangila replied gravely. ‘The local people would not have your knowledge of why we study the celestial orbs. So if it was admitted that one or other of us might — and I only say might — have been on that hillside examining the full moon, then they would not understand and our admission would be fuel for their suspicions.’

Fidelma conceded the point. ‘There is truth in that, Brother. However, Publilius Syrus points out that suspicion begets suspicion. They are already suspicious and it would be better to quell that suspicion before it outgrows our ability to do so.’

Brother Nakfa suddenly rose from his seat in a smooth unhurried motion which a moment later was copied by his companions.

‘Sister, we are in your hands,’ Brother Nakfa assured her solemnly. ‘We have told you what we know of the matter you inquire into. We know little except that these deaths came at the full of the moon, and because we are strangers, alien in the colour of our skins as well as language and demeanour, and because we are studying the celestial motions, so we are suspects in these terrible crimes. All we can offer in defence is the truth. If we can offer nothing else, then we would seek permission to return to our studies.’

Fidelma found herself rising with a feeling of irritation. She disguised her feelings with an expression equally as bland as the three men’s.

‘There is nothing more I need ask of any of you at this moment,’ she agreed reluctantly.

The three tall strangers bowed in unison and moved silently from the room. When they had gone, Fidelma resumed her seat.

Abbot Brogán was looking troubled.

‘I fear that instead of dispelling suspicion, Sister Fidelma, they have ignited thoughts that were not there before,’ he observed.

Fidelma was thoughtful. ‘The purpose of questioning, Abbot, is to provoke new thoughts and possibilities. And it is my duty as a dálaigh to ask questions. It would be better for the three strangers if they could be more specific about where they were on the nights of the full moon. I am inclined to believe Brocc when he says he saw one of them but his evidence is useless if he cannot be specific about which of the three he saw. As Eadulf says, we can consider the strangers’ interest in the study of the heavens once the matter is admitted. However, by not admitting it, they merely create suspicion.’

Abbot Brogán was unhappy and said so.

‘Brother Dangila was correct when he said that even if Brocc’s testimony was true, it did not mean that whoever he saw was responsible for the slaughter of any of the girls,’ Fidelma pointed out. ‘So do not fret on that account. You are acting correctly in continuing to offer them hospitality and refuge from the anger of others. Yet I find your guests most intriguing, Abbot. I shall certainly return to question them further.’

‘Well,’ the abbot replied, rising to escort his guests to the door, ‘I would keep a careful watch on Brocc, for what he has tried once, he might try again.’

‘Even with his wound?’ asked Eadulf.

‘A flesh wound, soon healing. Brocc is someone who lives revenge. And he has a friend, a smith called Gobnuid at Rath Raithlen. Gobnuid was among those who tried to attack the abbey. The two might plot some mischief.’

‘Gobnuid? I seem to have heard that name but I can’t place it. No matter. We shall take heed of your warning, Abbot Brogán,’ Fidelma assured him.

Accobrán was waiting outside for them but there was no sign of Brocc, who had apparently departed back to his brother’s mill.

The hour was growing late when they left the abbey and Fidelma decided that it was not worth while making a further journey across the valley to find Goll and his son Gabrán. It looked as though Accobrán was thankful for this, for he excused himself almost immediately they returned to the fortress and headed towards the stables. It was not long before they saw him ride out.

Eadulf wanted his evening wash immediately. He had grown used to the Irish custom of having a bath every evening, although it had taken some time, for he had found it strange both to wash in the morning and then to bathe in the evening. Fidelma decided to stroll around the rath by herself before having her own wash. While the October day was gloomy and growing dark, it was still early and there were sounds of activity through the fortress. She could hear the smash of metal against metal that showed that some of the forge workers were still hard at work, and a thought stirred in her mind. She made her way towards the sound, which came from a group of buildings towards the back of the rath.