Peter Tremayne: Penance of the Damned

‘Gorman was told by the merchants that many had come to accept Glaed, there being no other leader among them to stand against him. Apart from that, there were rumours going round that Glaed had vowed vengeance against all those who had failed to support him.’

‘So, having gained this information, Gorman determined to deliver it to Prince Donennach. What then?’

‘As I said, they arrived at Dun Eochair Mhaigh.’

‘And that was nine days ago?’ Eadulf queried.

‘Yes. They had left Marban at his mill and came to the fortress.’

‘Nine days …?’ Fidelma was beyond surprise after the many revelations she had heard. ‘That is a long time in the circumstances. So they arrived at the prince’s fortress. How did Prince Donennach react at the news?’

‘Apparently, the prince was dismissive. He felt that he could not consider Glaed as a threat, or not as a serious one, and that to him, the people of that mountain fastness were just ill-bred robbers without leadership. He said that if he ever found out they were raiding outside of the mountain lairs, then he would take a band of his warriors and punish them.’

Enda was nodding his head. ‘I think that was probably a reasonable assessment, lady. Based on all I have heard of them, they have always been thieves and cut-throats and would be no match for even one company of trained warriors.’

Eadulf did not look convinced. ‘It was a different story when we unravelled the mystery at Mungairit Abbey. Thieves they might be, but they can also supply fighting men,’ he commented dryly.

‘So what happened next?’ Fidelma urged.

‘Abbot Segdae of Imleach and his party had arrived to take part in some council.’

‘Do you know the reason for this council?’ Fidelma asked. It was unusual for the chief religious adviser to the Eoghanacht Kings of Muman to visit Ui Fidgente. The latter did not recognise the Eoghanacht as legitimate Kings of Muman, let alone bow to the authority of the Abbey of Imleach and its abbot.

Ciarnat shook her head. ‘I know nothing of these matters, lady. All I do know was that some council had been arranged between Abbot Segdae and Abbot Nannid of Mungairit. I was not interested, but when Gorman learned of the presence of Abbot Segdae he went to see him.’

‘Is our old antagonist, Abbot Nannid, at the fortress?’ Eadulf queried in surprise.

The girl nodded and went on: ‘They say that Gorman was in an angry mood about the reaction to the news he brought. He arrived at the abbot’s guest-chamber, there was an argument and they say he killed him.’

‘You were in the fortress at the time?’

‘No, I was in the township with my mother.’

‘Then tell the story as it was told to you.’

‘I heard it from Aibell a day or two later. She and Gorman had been allocated a room in the hostel for warriors. Gorman had gone to see the abbot, it being evening. Aibell had fallen asleep when suddenly she was aroused by a great disturbance. The door crashed open, men came in shouting. As she struggled awake, the guards started to drag her out of bed. She didn’t know what was happening. They threw her in a cold, dark cell. She was not taken out until morning when the guards manhandled her before Brehon Faolchair, Prince Donennach’s judge, who started to question her. She told me that she did not understand any of his questions at the time. It was only later that she understood, and perhaps she should be thankful because her ignorance and stupidity in answering finally convinced them that she knew nothing of what had happened and was innocent of any complicity.’

They waited as Ciarnat paused again, glancing from one to another as if seeking permission to continue.

‘And did you discover what had happened?’ pressed Fidelma.

Ciarnat took a deep breath before resuming her story. ‘We knew nothing until Brehon Faolchair convened the hearing and the details were revealed. Aibell had not even been allowed to see Gorman before then.’

‘You attended the hearing? So what was the evidence presented?’

‘According to the abbot’s steward, Brother Tuaman, Gorman had arrived at the abbot’s chamber in an angry mood. The steward left the chamber, to give the two men some privacy. A little while later, he heard a cry from the abbot’s chamber and some sound of upheaval. He rushed to the door but it had been locked. He called one of the guards and together they broke in and found the abbot lying dead on the floor. He had been stabbed twice in the chest. By the abbot’s side lay his staff of office. Just in front of his body, Gorman also lay on the floor, as if he were just recovering consciousness. There was a knife, still bloodied, in his hand. A point made by Brother Tuaman was that the door of the chamber had been locked on the inside. There was no other entrance or exit than a high window. So the only means of ingress and exit was the door by which the abbot’s steward and the guard had entered. It was immediately concluded that Gorman had attacked and stabbed Abbot Segdae.’

‘I presume that the guard confirmed the steward’s account?’

‘He did. It was argued that the abbot, having been stabbed once by Gorman, managed to strike him a blow with his staff, catching him on the side of the head. Gorman was able to stab him again, fatally, before falling unconscious from his own wound. The steward said that only a short space of time had elapsed since the cry, the noise and his trying to force the door.’

Fidelma exchanged a grim glance with Eadulf. ‘From the account that you give, the matter looks very bad for Gorman. You say that there was no other way in or out of the chamber?’

‘That was the telling point. However, Aibell is sure that he could not have murdered the abbot, lady. That is why she instructed me to come and meet you and tell you these things before you reached the prince’s fortress,’ the girl declared fervently.

Fidelma laid a comforting hand on her arm. ‘If he did not do it, then we shall do everything in our power to discover who did. How did Gorman defend himself before the Brehon?’

‘He told Brehon Faolchair that he had been in the abbot’s chamber, speaking normally with him, when he felt a blow on the back of his head. It is true that his head had a bruise and some swelling on the right side. When he recovered consciousness, the abbot’s steward and one of the prince’s guards were bending over him. The abbot was dead and Gorman was being accused of killing him. He could not explain the bloody knife in his hand.’

‘Let me be clear,’ Fidelma said. ‘You say Gorman had a bruise and a cut on the right side of his head and yet he claimed he was struck from behind, on the back of the head. Is that so?’

Ciarnat nodded quickly. ‘Brehon Faolchair made much of that. The blow, he argued, was consistent with the abbot striking him as he was attacked. It was not consistent with some unknown assailant having hidden himself in the chamber, creeping up behind him and knocking Gorman unconscious before killing the abbot. Segdae would surely have warned Gorman if someone was behind him before the blow was struck.’

‘It is a logical argument,’ Fidelma conceded.

‘But he is innocent,’ the girl replied doggedly.

‘Belief is not evidence,’ Fidelma told her.

‘I was denied the chance to give evidence on his behalf.’

‘What evidence would you have given?’ Fidelma wanted to know ‘You were not a witness.’

‘The guard who took food to Gorman’s cell passed on a message from him to Aibell. The message said he was innocent and that he was knocked unconscious and only came to his senses after the murder. He did say one thing which was curious. Apparently, while he was talking to the abbot, the abbot suddenly looked at the table where there were some papers and said, “Oh yes, you will be wanting these.” It was at that moment that he felt the blow on his head.’