Peter Tremayne - Act of Mercy

The warning cry came too late.

Brother Guss teetered on the edge of the starboard side of the vessel and then fell backwards into the sea with a cry of fear.

Sister Crella stood, apparently reaching forward with both hands outstretched towards the spot where he had fallen overboard.

Murchad bellowed: ‘Man overboard!’

Many of those on deck, including Fidelma, ran to the starboard side. The ship was moving fast and they saw Brother Guss’s head bobbing past at an alarming rate and disappearing aft.

‘Stand by to wear the ship!’ came Murchad’s cry.

The ship’s crew materialised as if by magic and started to haul down the sail while Gurvan and another crew member threw their weight against the oar, turning the ship with what seemed incredible slowness in a wide arc.

Fidelma had run forward, along the main deck to the small for’ard deck.

Sister Crella was still standing there. She was bent forward now, her arms wrapped around her shoulders. She saw Fidelma scrambling towards her. Her features were white, her eyes wide. The shock on her face was plain.

‘He … he fell …’ she began helplessly.

‘What did you say to him?’ Fidelma demanded sharply. ‘What did you say?’

The girl stared at her as if unable to speak.

‘He was backing away from you,’ Fidelma pressed, speaking roughly to shock her into speech. ‘Were you threatening him?’

‘Threatening?’ Sister Crella returned her gaze in bewilderment. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Then what made him back away from you in such fear that he fell overboard?’

‘How do I know?’

‘What did you say to him?’

‘I told him that I knew about the seventh union, that’s all.’

‘What?’ Fidelma was in the dark.

‘You should know,’ retorted Sister Crella, pulling herself together. Her face took on a defiant look. ‘Now leave me alone. They’ll pick him up in a moment and you can ask him yourself.’

Sister Crella pushed her way by Fidelma and went running along the deck.

Fidelma hurried back to Murchad. The crew and the other passengers were still lining the sides of the ship, staring across the water attempting to catch sight of Guss.

‘Can we reach him?’ Fidelma asked breathlessly as she came up to Murchad.

The captain was sombre.

‘I’ m afraid we can’t even see him yet.’

‘What? But he passed us by so closely.’

Murchad’s attitude was morose.

‘Even shortening sail and beginning our turn at once, we would have gone on for a long distance from the spot where he went in. I’ve turned and come back on my wake but I can see no sign of him.’

He glanced up to the mast head where a lookout had been posted.

‘Any sign, Hoel?’ he bellowed up.

The voice came back with a negative.

‘We’ll search as much as we can. The only chance is if he is a strong swimmer.’

Fidelma glanced across to where Brother Bairne was standing surveying the waters anxiously.

‘Do you know if Guss swims well?’ she demanded.

Brother Bairne shook his head.

‘Even a good swimmer in these waters would surely not last long.’

‘I’ll try my best,’ Murchad was saying. ‘The best is all that I can try.’

Fidelma moved to Brother Bairne’s side.

‘When you cried the warning, what was it that you saw?’ she asked softly so that the others would not hear her question.

‘Saw? I shouted a warning because Guss was stumbling too near the edge.’

‘But did you see why he was backing himself into that dangerous position?’

‘I do not think he realised he was.’

Fidelma was impatient.

‘Did you see Sister Crella threatening him?’

Brother Bairne looked shocked.

‘Sister Crella threatening him? Are you serious?’

‘You did notice Sister Crella on the for’ard deck with him?’

‘Of course. They were speaking together and then Brother Guss began to move backwards, a little rapidly, or so I thought. I cried the warning but he stumbled and fell.’ Brother Bairne was examining her with some perplexity.

‘Thank you,’ Fidelma said. ‘I just wanted to make sure of what you had seen, that’s all.’

She walked slowly back to the stern deck, her head bent slightly forward in thought. As the minutes went by, a feeling of depression descended on everyone. It was a full hour later before Murchad called off the search.

‘I am afraid there is nothing that we can do for the poor boy,’ he told Cian, who had again asserted his leadership of the party. ‘I think he went under almost immediately. There is no hope now. I am so sorry.’

Fidelma went below and made her way to Sister Crella’s cabin.

Sister Crella was lying on her back staring up at the deck above. As Fidelma entered, she sat up with a hopeful expression, saw Fidelma’s grim features and her own hardened.

‘Murchad has called off the search for Brother Guss,’ announced Fidelma. ‘There is no hope of finding him alive.’

Sister Crella’s face was immobile.

‘Now perhaps you will tell me what you meant?’ went on Fidelma. Sister Crella’s voice was tight.

‘It should be easy for a dalaigh such as you to know what the seventh union means.’

‘The seventh union?’ Fidelma’s eyes cleared. ‘Do you mean the seventh form of union between man and woman? The law term that means secret sexual relations?’

Sister Crella closed her eyes without replying.

‘Yes, I know the law on the seventh union,’ Fidelma agreed, ‘but there is nothing about it that makes sense in these circumstances. Why did Brother Guss react in the way he did?’

‘I merely told him that I knew how he had been pestering Muirgel.’ Her eyes were bright, her gaze defiant. ‘You see, I think Guss killed her because she would not respond to his advances.’

Fidelma lowered herself on to the chair in the cabin.

‘Pestering? That is an interesting word.’

‘What else would you call it when one person tries to enforce their attentions on another?’ demanded Sister Crella.

‘So you believe that Brother Guss forced his attentions on Sister Muirgel, and that she did not respond to him?’

‘Of course. He was a moonstruck youth — just like Brother Bairne. Muirgel did not want to have anything to do with him. Of that I am sure.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Because Muirgel was my friend. I told you before — there were no secrets between us.’

‘Yet Muirgel did not tell you that she feared for her life and had gone into hiding on this ship, did she? If there was no relationship, why did Muirgel ask Guss to help her to hide … even from you?’

Crella stared angrily at Fidelma.

‘Guss has been telling lies about Muirgel.’

‘How do you explain, then, that it was Guss to whom Muirgel turned when she felt threatened?’ insisted Fidelma. ‘That it was Guss who helped to hide her during the last two days?’

‘That spotty-faced youth was saying that he was Muirgel’s lover. That is why I challenged him on the seventh union.’

She suddenly bent down and reached under the bunk, drawing out a long slim knife in one continuous motion, then she stood up and brandished it before her. Fidelma rose quickly to her feet, her mind reacting swiftly, thinking that she would have to defend herself from attack. However, Sister Crella simply stood staring down at the knife for a moment. Then she held it out, hilt towards Fidelma.

‘Here, take it.’

Fidelma was startled.

‘Go on!’ snapped Sister Crella. ‘Take it! You’ll see it has dried blood on it still.’

‘What is it?’

‘The knife that probably killed my poor friend, what else?’

Fidelma took the knife carefully from her grasp. It was true that there were signs of dried blood on the blade. Whether it was, indeed, the murder weapon she did not know. Nor could she prove it was not the weapon. It was a knife usually used to cut meat.