Peter Tremayne - Hemlock at Vespers

Sister Fidelma stood, hands demurely folded before her, as she confronted Sechnasach.

“I did so because I have that right as a dálaigh of the Brehon courts and with the authority that I can now solve the mystery of the theft of your sword of state.”

Sechnasach leaned forward in his chair excitedly. “You have found where Ailill has hidden it?”

“My eyes were blind for I should have seen the answer long ago,” Sister Fidelma replied.

“Tell me where the sword is,” demanded Sechnasach.

“In good time,” Sister Fidelma answered calmly. “I need a further answer from you before I can reveal the answer to this puzzle. I have summoned Cernach, the son of your uncle Diarmuid, who was, with your father, joint High King.”

“What has Cernach to do with this matter?”

“It is said that Cernach is a most vehement supporter of the reforms of the Church of Rome.”

Sechnasach frowned, slightly puzzled. “He has often argued with me that I should change my attitudes and support those abbots and bishops of Ireland who would alter our ways and adopt the rituals of Rome. But he is still a youth. Why, he does not achieve the age of choice for a month or so and cannot even sit in council. He has no authority though he has some influence on the young members of our court.”

Sister Fidelma nodded reflectively.

“This agrees with what I have heard. But I needed some confirmation. Now let the guards bring in Ailill and the others and I will tell you what has happened.”

She stood silently before the High King while Ailill Flann Esa was brought in under guard, followed by the Abbot Colmán. Behind came a worried-looking Ornait, glancing with ill-concealed anxiety at her lover. After her came a puzzled-looking, dark-haired young man who was obviously Cernach Mac Diarmuid.

They stood in a semi-circle before the High King’s chair. Sech-nasach glanced toward Sister Fidelma, inclining his head to her as indication that she should start.

“We will firstly agree on one thing,” began Sister Fidelma. “The sacred sword of the Uí Néill kings of Tara was stolen from the chapel of the Blessed Patrick. We will now also agree on the apparent motive. It was stolen to prevent the inauguration of Sech-nasach as High King tomorrow… or to discredit him in the eyes of the people, to ferment civil disorder in the five kingdoms which might lead to Sechnasach being overthrown and someone else taking the throne.”

She smiled briefly at Sechnasach.

“Are we agreed on that?”

“That much is obvious.” It was Abbot Colmán who interrupted in annoyance. “In these dark times, it would only need such an omen as the loss of the sacred sword to create chaos and alarm within the kingdoms of Ireland. I have already said as much.”

“And what purpose would this chaos and alarm, with the overthrow of Sechnasach, be put to?” queried Sister Fidelma. Before anyone could reply she went on. “It seems easy to see. Sechnasach is sworn to uphold the traditions of the kingdoms and of our Church. Rome claims authority over all the Churches but this claim has been disputed by the Churches of Ireland, Britain and Armorica as well as the Churches of the East. Rome wishes to change our rituals, our liturgy and the computations whereby we celebrate the Cáise in remembrance of our Lord’s death in Jerusalem. And there are some among us, even abbots and bishops, who support Rome and seek the abandoning of our traditions and a union with the Roman Church. So even among us we do not all speak with one voice. Is that not so, Ailill Flann Esa?”

Ailill scowled.

“As I have told you, I have never denied my views.”

“Then let us agree entirely on the apparent inner motive for the theft of the sword. Destabilization of the High King and his replacement by someone who would reject the traditionalist ways and throw his support behind the reforms in line with Rome.”

There was a silence. She had their full attention.

“Very well,” went on Sister Fidelma. “This seems an obvious motive. But let us examine the facts of the theft. Two guards passed the door of the chapel in which the sword was kept shortly after midnight. The door was secured. But when they passed the chapel door twenty minutes later, they saw the door ajar with the bolt having been forced. Entering they saw Ailill standing at the altar staring at the empty chest where the sword had been kept. Then the Abbot entered. He came into the chapel from the sacristy to which he had gained entrance from the passage which leads there from the abbey. He accused Ailill of stealing the sword and hiding it. The sword was not found in the chapel. If Ailill had stolen the sword, how had he time to hide it so well and cleverly? Even the ten minutes allowed him by the guards was not time enough. This is the first problem that struck my thoughts.”

She paused and glanced towards Ornait, the sister of the High King.

“According to Ailill Flann Esa, he was walking by the chapel. He saw the door ajar and the bolt forced. He went inside out of curiosity and perceived the empty chest. That is his version of events.”

“We know this is what he claims,” snapped Sechnasach. “Have you something new to add?”

“Only to clarify,” replied Fidelma unperturbed by the High King’s agitation. “Ailill’s reason to be passing the chapel at that hour was because he was on his way to meet with Ornait.”

Ornait flushed. Sechnasach turned to stare at his sister, mouth slightly open.

“I regret that I cannot keep your secret, Ornait,” Sister Fidelma said with a grimace. “But the truth must be told for much is in the balance.”

Ornait raised her chin defiantly toward her brother.

“Well, Ornait? Why would Ailill meet with you in dead of night?” demanded the High King.

The girl pushed back her head defiantly.

“I love Ailill and he loves me. We wanted to tell you, but thought we would do so after your inauguration when you might look on us with more charity.”

Sister Fidelma held up her hand as Sechnasach opened his mouth to respond in anger.

“Time enough to sort that matter later. Let us continue. If Ailill speaks the truth, then we must consider this. Someone knew of Ailill’s appointment with Ornait. That person was waiting inside the chapel. Being a stranger to Tara, I had not realized that the chapel could be entered from within by means of a passageway. In this matter I was stupid. I should have known at once by the fact that the chapel doors bolted from within. The fact was staring me in the face. I should have realized that if the chapel was left bolted at night, then there must obviously be another means for the person who secured the bolt to make their exit.”

“But everyone at Tara knows about that passage,” pointed out Sechnasach.

“Indeed,” smiled Sister Fidelma. “And it would be obvious that at some stage I would come to share that knowledge.”

“The point is that the bolt on the door was forced,” Abbot Col-man pointed out in a testy tone.

“Indeed. But not from the outside,” replied Sister Fidelma. “Again my wits were not swift, otherwise I would have seen it immediately. When you force a bolted door, it is the metal on the door jamb, that which secures the bolt, that gets torn from its fixtures. But the bolt itself, on the chapel door, was the section which had been splintered away from its holdings.”

She stood looking at their puzzled expressions for a moment.

“What happened was simple enough. The culprit had entered the chapel from the passage within. The culprit had taken the key, pushed back the altar, opened the chest. The sword had been removed and taken to a place of safety. Then the culprit had returned to arrange the scene. Ensuring that the guards were well beyond the door, the perpetrator opened it, took up a stone and smashed at the bolt. Instead of smashing away the metal catch on the door jamb, the bolt on the door was smashed. It was so obvious a clue that I nearly overlooked it. All I saw, at first, was a smashed bolt.”