Peter Tremayne - Hemlock at Vespers

Fidelma cast a scornful glance at him.

“Would you have me report this to the Abbot and inform him that he need not worry?; that a valuable crucifix and a chalice have been stolen from one of his churches and a priest has been found hanged but there is no need to worry?”

Father Febal’s features grew tight.

“I am satisfied that Father Ibor stole the items and took his own life in a fit of remorse. I am satisfied that someone then stole the items after Ibor committed suicide.”

“But I am not,” replied Fidelma bitingly. “Send Brother Finnlug to me.”

Father Febal had risen automatically in response to the commanding tone in her voice. Now he hesitated at the vestry door.

“I am not used-” he began harshly.

“I am not used to being kept waiting,” Fidelma’s tone was icy as she cut in, turning her head away from him in dismissal. Father Febal blinked and then banged the door shut behind him in anger.

Brother Finnlug was a wiry looking individual; his sinewy body, tanned by sun and wind, proclaimed him to be more a man used to being out in all sorts of weather than sheltering in the cloisters of some abbey. Fidelma greeted him as he entered the vestry.

“I am Fidelma of-”

Brother Finnlug interrupted her with a quick, friendly grin.

“I know well who you are, lady,” he replied. “I saw you and your brother, Colgú the King, many times hunting in the company of my Lord of Maine.”

“Then you know that I am also an advocate of the courts and that you are duty bound to tell me the truth?”

“I know that much. You are here to inquire about the tragic death of Father Ibor.” Brother Finnlug was straightforward and friendly in contrast to his superior.

“Why do you call it a tragic death?”

“Is not all death tragic?”

“Did you know Father Ibor well?”

The former huntsman shook his head.

“I knew little of him. He was a young man, newly ordained and very unsure of himself. He was only here about a month.”

“I see. Was he the newest member of the community then? For example, how long has Father Febal been here?”

“Father Febal has been priest here for seven years. I came here a year ago and Brother Adag has been here a little more than that.”

“I presume that your little community were on good terms with one another?”

Brother Finnlug frowned slightly and did not reply.

“I mean, I presume that there was no animosity between the four of you?” explained Fidelma.

Finnlug’s features wrinkled in an expression which Fidelma was not able to interpret.

“To be truthful, Father Febal liked to emphasize his seniority over us. I believe he entered the Church from some noble family and does not forget it.”

“Was that attitude resented?”

“Not by me. I was in service to the Lord of Maine. I am used to being given orders and to obeying them. I know my place.”

Was there a slight note of bitterness there? Fidelma wondered.

“If I recall rightly, the Lord of Maine was a generous man and those in his service were well looked after. It must have been a wrench for you to leave such a employer to enter religious life?”

Brother Finnlug grimaced.

“Spiritual rewards are often richer than temporal ones. But, as I say, I have been used to service. The same may be said for Brother Adag, who was once a servant to another lord. But he is somewhat of a simpleton.” The monk touched his forehead. “They say such people are blessed of God.”

“Did Father Ibor get on well with Father Febal?”

“Ah, that I can’t say. He was a quiet young man. Kept himself to himself. I do not think he liked Father Febal. I have seen resentment in his eyes.”

“Why would he be resentful? Father Febal was the senior of your community. Father Ibor should have recognized his authority without question.”

The monk shrugged.

“All I can say is that he was hostile to Father Febal’s authority.”

“Why do you think that he stole the items from the church?”

Fidelma asked the question sharply.

Brother Finnlug’s expression did not alter.

He simply spread his arms.

“Who can say what motivates a person to such actions? Who can know the deep secrets of men’s hearts?”

“That is what I am here to discover.” Fidelma replied dryly. “Surely, you must have an idea? Even to hazard a guess?”

“What does Father Febal say?”

“Does it matter what he says?”

“I would have thought that he was closer to Father Ibor than either Brother Adag or myself.”

“Closer? Yet you said there was hostility between them.”

“I did not mean close in the manner of friends. But they were priests together. Of similar social backgrounds, unlike Adag and I. As brothers of this community, our task was more like servants in this church rather than the equals of Fathers Febal and Ibor.”

“I see.” Fidelma frowned thoughtfully. “I am sure the Abbot will be distressed to learn that this is the way your community is governed. We are all servants of God and all one under His Supreme Power.”

“That is not exactly the Faith which Father Febal espouses.” There was clearly bitterness in his voice.

“So you do not know why Ibor might have stolen the items?”

“They were items of great value. They would never be poor on the proceeds of that wealth.”

“ They?”

“I mean, whoever stole the items.”

“You have a doubt that Father Ibor stole them, then?”

“You are sharp, Sister. Alas, I do not have the precise way with words that you do.”

“Why do you think Father Ibor hanged himself having fled with these valuable items?”

“To avoid capture?”

“Your reply is in the form of a question. You mean that you are not sure of this fact either?”

Brother Finnlug shrugged.

“It is difficult for me to say. I cannot understand why a priest should take his life in any event. Surely no priest would commit such a sin?”

“Would you say that you cannot be sure that Father Ibor took his life?”

Brother Finnlug was startled.

“Did I say that?”

“You implied it. Tell me, in your own words what happened during the last two days. Had there been any tension between Ibor and Febal or any one else?”

Finnlug set his jaw firmly and stared at her for a moment.

“I did hear Father Ibor arguing the night before he disappeared.”

Fidelma leant forward, encouragingly.

“Arguing? With Father Febal?”

Brother Finnlug shook his head.

“I cannot be sure. I passed his cell and heard his voice raised. The other voice was quiet and muffled. It was as if Father Ibor had lost his temper but the person he was arguing with was in control.”

“You have no idea who this other person was?”

“None.”

“And you heard nothing of the substance of the argument?”

“I caught only a few words here and there.”

“And what were these words?”

“Nothing that makes sense. Ibor said, ‘It is the only way.’ Then he paused and after the other person said something, he replied. ‘No, no, no. If it has to end, I shall not be the one to end it.’ That was all I heard.”

Fidelma was quiet as she considered the matter.

“Did you interpret anything from these words, especially in the light of what subsequently happened?”

Brother Finnlug shook his head.

The door of the vestry suddenly opened and Father Febal stood on the threshold, his features wearing a peculiar look of satisfaction. He was clearly a man who had heard some news which pleased him.

“We have found the thief who took the crucifix and chalice from Father Ibor,” he announced.

Brother Finnlug rose swiftly to his feet. His eyes flickered from Farther Febal to Sister Fidelma. Fidelma saw something in his eyes and could not quite interpret the expression. Was it fear?