Peter Tremayne - Penance of the Damned

Prior Cuan compressed his lips. ‘I am no judge but a simple man of religion. I could not say what is right and proper in this case. Let those learned with the law make the decision.’

Fidelma glanced at Eadulf and grimaced. It seemed she didn’t think much of the prior’s attempt at diplomacy.

Brehon Faolchair held a whispered exchange with Prince Donennach then he turned back to Fidelma.

‘We have decided to allow Socht the ancient time period of nine nights and intervening days. If Gorman is not brought back here by then, he will be judged in his absence.’

It was not the first time that Eadulf had heard reference to the mystical figure nine. In ancient times Fidelma had told him that her people judged the passing of the week as by nights, followed by days. The old week was therefore nine nights, and three of these weeks constituted the lunar month. The figure of nine seemed to occur in many stories of Fidelma’s people as Eadulf had understood them. The High King Laoghaire had set up a nine-man commission to consider and render the ancient laws into the new Christian writing.

‘I accept the terms,’ Fidelma agreed, glancing at Conri. ‘Then all we can do is wait word from Socht.’

At that very moment, the hall doors burst open and two warriors came in dragging a struggling girl between them.

Fidelma turned, wondering if it was Aibell and whether she and Gorman had already been caught. But the struggling figure was the unkempt form of Ciarnat.

‘We caught her outside the fort, lord,’ one of the warriors addressed Prince Donennach.

Cairnat tried to shake her arms free but gave up and attempted to address the prince instead. ‘I was returning to the fort when these idiots caught hold of me and dragged me here,’ she panted. ‘I do not understand the meaning of this. What am I supposed to have done?’

‘Are you saying that you do not know that your friend Aibell and her husband have escaped from this fort?’ Brehon Faolchair demanded sternly.

Fidelma saw the girl’s features tighten. It was difficult to ascertain whether she was surprised by the news or not.

‘I was visiting my mother in the township. I know nothing,’ she said sullenly.

Abbot Nannid smothered a guffaw. ‘Another chance to beguile us with some new expression of innocence?’

Fidelma moved to the side of the girl with a sympathetic look. ‘You say that you have only just returned to the fortress. When did you leave it?’

‘I left just after we delivered your message to Aibell and Gorman, lady,’ the girl responded. ‘We told Gorman to be patient, for you were reinvestigating the matter.’

‘You left at that time? Why?’ Brehon Faolchair wanted to know.

‘To see my elderly mother, as I said.’

Abbot Nannid snorted. ‘An elderly mother? I don’t believe that for one moment.’

The girl turned with an angry scowl towards him. ‘Anyone in this fortress will tell you that my mother, Etromma, served here as a cook for many years and therefore I followed in that service. She is elderly now and alone apart from myself. She lost two sons, my brothers, in the service of the Princes of the Ui Fidgente.’

‘And I suppose you claim that you have no knowledge that your friend, the girl Aibell, was plotting the escape of the murderer, Gorman?’ Abbot Nannid was unbending with his questions.

The girl’s reply was equally pugnacious. ‘My mother is elderly. She still dwells in the township in the shadow of this fortress. I left here earlier having no duties to fulfil here today, in order to visit her and break bread with her. I did not expect to be assaulted by warriors on my return to the fortress gates, nor to be dragged here as if I am some criminal without the law.’

Fidelma was watching the girl’s features closely. She was keeping something back, Fidelma could tell. ‘We do have to ask you some questions,’ she said gently. ‘This is because we cannot understand why Aibell should have arranged an escape for Gorman at this time, especially after the assurance I gave you this morning. I am told Gorman was content to let me handle matters. How was his mind changed so quickly?’

The girl shook her head. ‘I cannot help you.’

‘Well, I suppose your mother can support your story that you went straight there and remained there until now.’ It was Abbot Nannid again. tone.

The girl immediately protested: ‘My mother is elderly and frail. She should not be intimidated!’

‘Very convenient,’ remarked the abbot.

‘You see,’ Fidelma went on, ignoring him, ‘there are difficulties for us, Ciarnat. Brehon Faolchair must be assured that you did nothing to aid the escape of Gorman and your friend, Aibell.’

‘I have no understanding of what has happened.’ Ciarnat was obdurate and yet there was still something that made Fidelma suspicious. ‘I left the fortress at midday and have only just returned.’

‘I will explain, Ciarnat,’ Brehon Faolchair said easily, ‘so that you may understand how we are thinking. Firstly, this escape seemed so well planned. Horses had to be made ready, they had to be led to the side gate of this fortress which, moreover, had to be unbolted and unlocked, ready and open for the escapers to flee through. If Aibell had accomplished all that by herself, it would have taken some time in the preparation, yet it seems she was able to do this in a very short time. The actual escape was easy enough. The guard admitted he was bribed. For the moment, the bribe continues to buy his silence – but a night in his own cell may release the stiffness of his tongue.’

Ciarnat stood silent, looking wretched and uneasy.

‘But the most puzzling aspect of this escape was something which the guard let slip,’ Fidelma added. ‘He overheard Aibell tell Gorman that they had been betrayed. By whom were they betrayed – and about what? Was this so-called betrayal the reason for the escape?’

‘You see now, Ciarnat, why we might need to ask questions of you,’ pressed Brehon Faolchair.

‘The girl is clearly the accomplice,’ Abbot Nannid asserted. ‘I am glad that the dalaigh appears to admit this. Those who help the murderer share the crime. We might not be able to hang Gorman but we can make an example of his accomplice.’

Ciarnat gave a small cry, a clenched fist raised to her mouth as she understood the meaning behind his words.

Fidelma glanced at him, infuriated. She felt sure she could have coaxed some more information from the girl, but the abbot’s brutal tactic had spoiled any chance of that by scaring her.

‘You have a way of distorting words, Abbot Nannid, and that can be a dangerous trait,’ she reproached him. ‘I have merely put some facts forward to seek answers and have yet to draw any conclusions from them.’

‘The conclusions should be obvious,’ returned the bellicose abbot.

‘They might be to you, but not to one trained in law.’ Fidelma was losing patience.

Ciarnat was trembling. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ she began hesitantly.

‘Say what you know and what you believe to be the truth,’ Eadulf advised encouragingly, ‘and you will not be at fault.’

‘You told me that you would see Gorman and Aibell after the questioning of the witnesses. With the warrior, Enda, I took this news back to Aibell and Gorman. Enda is witness to this. Then I left the fortress and went to my mother’s house. That is all I know.’

‘If you didn’t help your friends to escape, who did?’ boomed Abbot Nannid.

‘I have already told you what I know. I cannot invent anything else.’

‘I for one do not believe you,’ the abbot snapped.

‘Thankfully, it is not up to you to believe the statements of a witness,’ Eadulf suddenly exploded at the man. He had been feeling his temper simmering at the rudeness and disrespect to his wife from the Abbot of Mungairit ever since the previous evening. ‘Your ability in the matter of belief has been questionable in the past. If I remember correctly, when we were uncovering the conspiracy against Prince Donennach in your own abbey, you were either gullible about believing people or you had your own purpose!’