Peter Tremayne - Penance of the Damned

‘So there is absolutely no doubt in your mind, speaking as one of the chief witnesses to these events, that he is guilty?’ Fidelma was expecting the answer but she had to put the question.

‘With respect, lady,’ answered Lachtna, ‘there can be no other conclusion. It is as if Gorman wanted to be found guilty! If he had planned to assassinate the abbot, why do it in such a manner? Why not wait for some lonely spot in the dark of the night?’

‘That argument is of itself one in support of innocence,’ pointed out Eadulf.

‘I did not see the dagger being plunged into the body of the abbot, brother, but the circumstances indisputably show that he was the only person in the room apart from the victim. I cannot say anything other than what I have seen.’

‘That is all we can ask of you, Lachtna,’ Fidelma observed gently. ‘Now, where is the abbot’s staff, the one which is said to have caused the wound on Gorman’s head?’

There was a movement at the doorway. Fidelma glanced over and saw the tall figure of the steward framed in it.

‘You come at an opportune time, Brother Tuaman. I was about to send for you,’ she said.

When Brother Tuaman strode in, his body language assertive, once again Fidelma had the impression of a wrestler going into a contest rather than of a scholarly religieux. She dismissed Lachtna, and the young warrior left with a half shrug at the newcomer.

‘I am prepared to answer your questions,’ the steward announced, and the condescending tone in his voice irritated Eadulf. It was true what Conri had previously observed: the steward seemed to have a high opinion of himself, which was unusual in a tall, muscular man. Such men had little need to prove themselves to others.

‘That is good because it is your duty to answer the questions of a dalaigh and a refusal would bring penalties,’ Fidelma replied sternly. ‘But I don’t need to tell you that.’

Brother Tuaman blinked. Eadulf wondered if he realised that his pomposity would not succeed in elevating his status with her.

‘As I mentioned before,’ Fidelma went on, ‘when Abbot Segdae visited my brother at Cashel, I recall that you were in his company. However, we did not really talk at that time. I am wondering where you are from … before Imleach, that is?’

‘From Loch Lein.’

‘I meant, at what abbey did you train?’

‘For ten years I served in the Abbey of the Blessed Finnian Lochbhair on Inis Faithlian. The abbey is on the island in Loch Lein,’ he added condescendingly, as if she would not know this fact. ‘I grew up on the shores of the lake and that is why I joined the community there.’

‘Inis Faithlian is an abbey of high learning,’ Fidelma conceded. ‘What did you study there?’

‘Penmanship, for which I received much praise as well as my renditions of Latin, Greek and Hebrew characters.’

The man was certainly not impeded by a lack of egotism and Fidelma’s irritation now gave way to one of amusement.

‘Do you also transcribe our own tongue?’

‘ Res ipsa loquitor ,’ replied the man pretentiously as if it were obvious.

Fidelma looked at Eadulf with lowered brows and tried to hide her smile. ‘Sometimes I find it better not to presume knowledge. Many things that one thinks should go without saying, should be clarified,’ she said.

The steward flushed but did not respond.

‘I am told your delegation consisted of Abbot Segdae, his deputy, yourself and two other brothers from Imleach,’ Fidelma continued.

‘That is so. Brother Mac Raith, whom you met yesterday, and Brother Mael Anfaid.’

‘And their positions?’

‘Assistant scribes to make a record of our discussions.’

‘The purpose of this journey was to meet here with clerics of the Ui Fidgente to discuss how our churches and the leaders of the religious communities might come into a better communication with one another after the peace made between the Ui Fidgente and Cashel. Is that so?’

‘It was only a preliminary meeting,’ the steward replied. ‘The Abbot of Mungairit called this council and suggested it be held here at the Abbey of Nechta.’

‘So the council is being held in the new abbey?’

‘It is logical that the council be held in the religious community. But, it being only recently constructed, they do not have a guest-hostel fit for our delegation. Therefore Prince Donennach offered hospitality.’

‘How far had these discussions proceeded with Abbot Segdae?’

‘We had only had two days’ preliminary discussion. It was the evening of the second day that this catastrophe happened.’

‘What churchmen of the Ui Fidgente have attended this council?’

‘Abbot Nannid and his steward are the only senior clerics to attend. No one else, for these were exploratory talks. Had they been successful then a full council of senior clerics would have been called.’

‘I wish to talk about the day that Abbot Segdae was killed. I was about to ask to be shown the abbot’s staff of office with which he was said to have knocked Gorman unconscious … No, wait! We’ll come to that in a moment. While we are in this chamber let us continue the account of that event. I am told that Gorman had called to see the abbot earlier that day. Is that right?’

‘He did,’ affirmed Brother Tuaman. ‘I was here but the abbot was not. I told him that the abbot would not return here until after the evening meal. So it was later in the evening when Gorman arrived again to see him.’

‘The guard mentioned that one of the religieux from Mungairit was here at that time as well. I think he said it was Brother Cuineain.’

Brother Tuaman seemed momentarily surprised. Then he nodded. ‘Indeed, Abbot Nannid’s steward came to go over some essential details with me for the next session of our discussions the following morning. We had just finished when the warrior arrived, demanding to speak with the abbot.’

‘Demanding?’ Fidelma seized on the word. ‘I thought he had earlier made an arrangement to see the abbot. Why would he have felt he had to demand to see him?’

‘Perhaps I chose the wrong word,’ muttered the steward. ‘He asked to see him.’

‘In what manner did he arrive?’

The steward frowned, obviously not understanding.

‘How did he seem in manner?’ Fidelma clarified. ‘Was he excited? Was he anxious? What?’

The steward considered and then shook his head. ‘I couldn’t say.’

‘Did he look like a man intent on killing someone?’ Eadulf snapped, annoyed by the man’s attitude.

‘How does such a man look?’ Brother Tuaman countered.

Eadulf accepted the point. ‘We merely wanted to ascertain if there was anything unusual about the way Gorman presented himself. We have previously heard that he seemed moody.’

‘I would agree that he seemed somewhat short of temper.’

‘Angry?’ Eadulf asked.

‘Not in a good humour,’ replied the steward.

‘What happened when he arrived?’

‘I left him in the hall while I came up here to ask the abbot if it was convenient for him to see the warrior. The abbot asked me to bring Gorman to his chamber immediately. They greeted one another as friends. Therefore I left them alone together.’

‘Closing the door of the chamber?’

‘Closing the door of the chamber,’ echoed Brother Tuaman.

‘And then you went back to continue your discussion with Brother Cuineain?’

‘There was nothing much more to discuss. He had already left.’

‘Then what did you do?’

‘I returned to my own chamber to work on my notes. It is over there,’ he pointed across the hallway to the opposite door. ‘A short time passed and then I heard raised voices coming from the abbot’s room. There was a loud cry, as if of alarm, followed by a tremendous crash. I left my chamber immediately and hastened over here to the abbot’s door. I called out, asking what was wrong. There was a silence. I tried the door but found it locked. It was not the abbot’s custom to lock his door.’