Peter Tremayne - Act of Mercy

Sister Ainder actually smiled.

‘You do not have to tell me that. She has always kept to herself, even talking to herself at times as though she needs no other companion. But then, they say that true saints see and speak to angels. I would not condemn her for she might have more of the Faith then the rest of us put together.’

Fidelma was sceptical.

‘I think she is just a troubled soul.’

‘Yet madness can be a gift from God, so perhaps she is to be blessed.’

‘Do you think that she is mad?’

‘If not mad, then a little eccentric, eh? Look, there she is again, muttering her imprecations and curses.’

Sister Ainder pursed her lips and apparently did not wish to pursue the topic of conversation, for she changed the subject, remarking: ‘It seems that for a pilgrimage of religieux on our way to a Holy Shrine there is one thing missing on this voyage.’

‘Which is?’ asked Fidelma cautiously.

‘Religion itself. I fear that apart from a few exceptions, God is not with those on this voyage.’

‘How do you judge that?’

Sister Ainder’s bright eyes bore into Fidelma.

‘There was certainly no religion in the hand that killed Sister Muirgel and she, in turn, was certainly no religieuse. That young woman would have been better off in a bawdy house.’

‘So you disliked Muirgel?’

‘As I have told you before, I really did not know her enough to dislike her. I only disapproved of her loose ways with men. But, as I say, she does not appear to be outrageous company among our band of so-called pilgrims.’

‘I presume you don’t include yourself in the “outrageous company”? Are there any other exceptions?’

‘Brother Tola, of course.’

‘But not me?’ Fidelma smiled.

Sister Ainder looked at her pityingly.

‘You are not a religieuse. Your concern is the law and you are simply a Sister of the Faith by accident.’

Fidelma fought to keep her face impassive. She had not thought it was so obvious. First Brother Tola, and now Sister Ainder felt able to take her to task on her religiosity. Fidelma decided to move the conversation onwards.

‘What of the others of your party then? You don’t consider they should be in religious Orders?’

‘Certainly not. Cian, for instance, is a womaniser, a man without morals or thought for others. There is no caring in him. With his vanity, it would not occur to him that he was hurting anyone. As a warrior he was probably in the right occupation. Fate caused him to seek security in a religious house. It was the wrong decision.’

Then Sister Ainder gestured across the deck of the ship to Dathal and Adamrae.

‘Those young men should be … well!’ Her face was twisted in disapproval.

‘You would condemn them?’ asked Fidelma.

‘Our religion condemns them. Remember the words of Paul to Romans: “Their men in turn, giving up natural relations with women, burnt with lust for one another; males behave indecently with males, and are paid in their own persons the fitting wage of such perversion … Thus, because they have not seen fit to acknowledge God, He has given them up to their own depraved reason”.’

Fidelma pulled a face.

‘We all know that Paul of Tarsus was an ascetic who believed in austerity and rigidity in morals.’

Sister Ainder shook her head in irritation.

‘It is very clear, Sister, that you take no thought to the words God spoke to Moses. Leviticus, eighteen, verse twenty-two: “You shall not lie with a man as with a woman; that is an abomination.” An abomination !’ she repeated in an angry voice.

Fidelma waited a moment or two and then said, ‘Isn’t the basis of our Faith salvation for everyone? Surely we are all sinners and we all need salvation? God did not judge the world, therefore we have no right to judge it. I give you back the words of John’s Gospel: “It was not to judge the world that God sent His Son into the world, but that through Him the world might be saved”.’

Sister Ainder actually chuckled, though sourly.

‘You are indeed a dalaigh , quoting sentences here and there to support your arguments. You are ever a woman of law and yet you can speak about not judging the world?’

‘I don’t judge. I seek the truth — and in truth is accountability.’

Sister Ainder sniffed and made to end the conversation. But she paused and turned back.

‘Brother Bairne is probably the only other person I would save from this ship of fools,’ she added. ‘He has some religious potential but the others, Sister Crella, for example — well, she seems no better than her friend Muirgel. I swear that, in this tiny ship, traversing the waters, we have all seven of the deadly sins that are cursed by the Living God. There is anger, covetousness, there is envy and gluttony, there is lust and pride and sloth.’

Fidelma looked at the strict religieuse with unconcealed amusement.

‘Have you identified all these sins among us?’

Sister Ainder’s features did not soften.

‘You will find that lust features prominently on this ship. Lust is the one sin that seems to be shared among many of our company.’

‘Oh?’ Fidelma smiled softly. ‘Am I supposed to be part of this sin of lust?’

Sister Ainder shook her head.

‘Oh no, Fidelma of Cashel. You are guilty of the worst sin of the seven … for pride is your sin. And pride is the mask of one’s own faults.’

Fidelma found her features hardening slightly. She would have been prepared to chuckle in earnest if any of the other six had been levelled at her by Sister Ainder, but she was not expecting pride. The barb hurt because it was something which had worried Fidelma for a long time. She did have a pride in her abilities, but not a vanity. There was adifference. Yet she was never sure what the difference was. To her, false humility was worse than pride in one’s achievements.

Sister Ainder was smiling complacently, watching the conflict on Fidelma’s features.

‘Proverbs, Sister Fidelma,’ she intoned. ‘Proverbs sixteen, verse eighteen: “Pride comes before disaster and arrogance before a fall”.’

Fidelma flushed with annoyance.

‘And which of the sins do you own up to, Ainder of Moville?’ she demanded testily.

Sister Ainder smiled thinly.

‘I keep all the Lord’s covenants,’ she replied with self-assurance.

Fidelma’s eyebrows arched a little.

‘A person with snot on their nose rejoices to see snot on the nose of another,’ she said brutally.

It was an old rural proverb which Fidelma had once heard a farmer use. It was coarse and strong, but Fidelma felt a sudden anger at the conceit of the woman and she uttered it without a thought.

Sister Ainder gasped in fury at the vulgarity.

Fidelma heard Murchad, who was still standing nearby, snort in mirth. It was a humour he could appreciate.

Yet the moment she had uttered the saying, Fidelma felt contrite and turned to express her regret that she had let anger get the better of her. However, Sister Ainder had already stalked away.

Fidelma paused for a moment and then met Murchad’s eye guiltily. The captain was still grinning; he suppressed a chuckle.

‘I’m sorry, lady, but you were in the right. That creature is the epitome of the very pride which she accused you of.’

Fidelma appreciated his support but continued to feel contrite.

‘Words uttered in anger, whether true or not, are not likely to have an effect, and-’

A cry cut her short. It was not the cry of the lookout, but a shout of alarm. Someone on the main deck, she thought it was Brother Bairne, had shouted some warning. He was pointing forward.

On the for’ard deck of the vessel were two figures. Sister Crella was standing there. A short distance in front of her stood Brother Guss. He was backing away from her, almost in a cringing attitude. The shouted warning from Brother Bairne was because Guss was backing dangerously near the ship’s rail.