Peter Tremayne - Penance of the Damned

‘There was no response to your call?’

‘None. I shouted for the warrior who was on duty below. That was Lachtna, whom you have just seen.’

Fidelma suddenly looked at Conri, who had remained silent during her questioning. ‘I meant to ask you – was it unusual for a warrior to guard the hostel when its occupants were a religious delegation?’

‘Not in ordinary circumstances,’ Conri replied cautiously. ‘You would have to ask the commander of the household Guard. I was not here at that time.’

‘Not in ordinary circumstances,’ repeated Eadulf. ‘What could be extraordinary circumstances?’

‘This is not an abbey,’ Conri reminded him. ‘I would imagine that Prince Donennach might have some concern about the safety of the abbot. After all, this is the principal fortress of a people who had conflict with Cashel, and Abbot Segdae was the principal adviser to the King of Cashel on religious matters.’

‘A good point and one we shall check,’ conceded Fidelma. She returned her gaze to the steward. ‘What happened then?’

‘Lachtna joined me and tried the door. We agreed to break it in. As you can see,’ the steward added, gesturing at the condition of the oak door.

‘I have seen,’ Fidelma nodded. ‘Which reminds me, when you came to the door, received no answer, found it locked and were fearful for what had happened, did you, in the short time you had to wait for Lachtna to join you, think to peer through one of those knot-holes that I see age has put into the wood?’

‘No, I did not think of such a thing.’

‘Come into the hall with me a moment.’ They went out and Fidelma drew the door shut. She told them: ‘I noticed one knot-hole especially – the one that is just below eye-level and shaped like a diamond. It is the length of a person’s little finger. By pressing one’s eye to it you could see roughly into the chamber. Try for yourself.’

Brother Tuaman moved forward and, following Fidelma’s instruction, peered into the gap. Then he stood back and shook his head.

‘I doubt that anyone would have seen very much. I can only see the abbot’s desk but not where he was lying on the floor, nor can I see where the warrior was. However, lady, this did not occur to me.’

‘I thought you might have made an attempt to look,’ she said mildly. ‘There seem to be a few new scratch-marks around the knot-hole. No matter.’ She reopened the door. ‘So … you and Lachtna burst into the room – and what did you see?’

‘I saw the abbot’s body first. There was blood soaking his robes and staining the floor. He had probably tried to use his staff of office as a means of defence for it was lying by his left hand. Before him, groaning, was the warrior. He was also on the floor. I saw the bloodied dagger by the warrior’s right hand. It was obvious what had happened.’

‘Which was what?’

The steward smiled thinly. ‘The man had attacked the abbot and stabbed him. The abbot, perhaps in his dying moment, had swung his staff of office at his attacker. You may know it bears a heavy cross of silver on the end. This caught his attacker on the side of the head, knocking him unconscious for a while and allowing us to apprehend him.’

‘I see. You felt that, had Gorman not been knocked senseless, he would have contrived to escape somehow. Surely the obstacles were many to such a flight in the circumstances.’

The steward thought and found no answer.

‘You were going to show me the abbot’s staff,’ Fidelma reminded the man.

‘It was cleaned before being given to the prior. After all, it will be his once he is confirmed as the next abbot.’

‘I would still like to see it,’ she insisted.

‘The prior is not in his chamber …’ prevaricated the steward.

‘I presume, however, that the staff is?’ cut in Fidelma.

The steward reluctantly led the way across the passage and opened the door. The room was sparsely furnished: a desk, with a candle and a tinder box on it and a vellum-bound parchment book. To Eadulf, it appeared to be a book of liturgical matter. There was a wooden chair, a bed and a cupboard which revealed only a change of robes and a pair of sandals.

‘Prior Cuan certainly believes in frugality,’ murmured Eadulf as he examined the belongings of the absent occupant.

A staff with a polished silver crucifix of intricate design was leaning prominently in one corner. It was shining and clean. Fidelma had vague memories of seeing Abbot Segdae with it, but she had never taken much notice of it before. It was Eadulf who went over and picked it up. As he did so, a shorter stick next to it, a chestnut walking stick, was dislodged and clattered to the floor.

‘It is the prior’s walking stick,’ the steward said, bending down to retrieve it and place it back against the wall.

Eadulf was turning the staff of office over in his hands and examining it carefully. Then he shrugged and put it back.

‘You are right, Brother Tuaman,’ he said. ‘It has been well cleaned and polished. Did it have much blood on it?’

Brother Tuaman looked startled. ‘Doubtless the physician would have such details.’

Fidelma tried to prevent a look of surprise from crossing her features. A physician? There had been no previous mention of any physician attending the scene. She felt annoyed with herself. Of course, she should have remembered that the attendance of a physician would be obligatory, given the death of an illustrious guest. Also, someone must have attended Gorman as his defence rested on a claim of having been rendered unconscious.

‘Who was this physician?’ she asked.

Brother Tuaman shrugged. ‘I can’t remember the name. They did not appear at the hearing.’

‘The lady Airmid is the only physician in the fortress,’ Conri said. ‘I’ll take you to her apothecary, if you wish.’

‘Before that, there is one thing I am curious about,’ Eadulf said. ‘It appears that the prior and Brother Mac Raith and Brother Mael Anfaid were not here when Abbot Segdae was killed. Where were they?’

‘I think Prior Cuan had gone to see Brehon Faolchair, but Brother Mac Raith and Brother Mael Anfaid were attending some service in the chapel in the Abbey of Nechta. They have a relative who serves in the community there.’

‘A relative?’ Eadulf was surprised. ‘Are you saying that they are of the Ui Fidgente?’

‘I thought they were of the Muscraige Mittine,’ the steward replied, mentioning a clan who dwelled south of the Abhainn Mhor, the big river that almost divided the kingdom. ‘But they did mention a relative who serves at the abbey.’

‘You don’t know who?’ Eadulf asked.

‘It is not my position to question the personal lives of the brethren,’ the steward said repressively.

‘Very well.’ Fidelma sighed. ‘You have heard Gorman’s claim that he was talking to the abbot when he was struck unconscious while standing with his back to the door. What do you have to say to that?’

‘That the man is a fool and a liar.’

‘And why would that be?’

‘He was alone with the abbot in his chamber. The door was locked. At first I assumed that Abbot Segdae might have locked it, but now I think it more likely that the warrior locked it so that he would not be disturbed in his plan to kill him. The notion that someone could have entered, knocked him out, killed the abbot, arranged the bodies, and then left, locking the door from the inside before disappearing, is nonsensical. Don’t forget, I heard the voices raised, the thud of the falling bodies and was at that locked door within moments. No one could have entered or left the room. So the man is a fool to present so ridiculous an excuse and an obvious liar to boot.’

‘That is the conundrum,’ Eadulf observed aloud. ‘Gorman is no fool – so why would he tell such a story if it did not happen as he said?’