Suffer Little Children

There was a catch to her voice that made the young warrior stop. He realized how suddenly vulnerable was this young woman dalaigh of the court. Colgu of Cashel had put great responsibility on his sister's shoulders— perhaps too much? As Cass saw things, the death of Dacan was a riddle that would never be solved. Better to simply prepare for war with the Laigin than squander time in sorting out the tangled and insoluble web of this mystery.

Fidelma suddenly sat down on a rock and gazed at the sea as Cass stood restlessly by. In turning matters over in her mind she was trying to remember what her old master, the Brehon Morann of Tara, had once said to her.

'Better to ask twice than lose your way once, child,' he had intoned when she had failed some exercise of the mind by failing to grasp an answer he had given.

What question was she not asking; what answer had she failed to realize the significance of?

Cass was startled when, after a moment or two, Fidelma sprang up and uttered a snort of disgust.

'I must be dull-witted!' she announced.

'Why so?' he demanded as she started to stride swiftly back towards the abbey.

'Here I have been bemoaning to myself the impossibility of the task before I have even begun it.'

'I thought that you had already made a very good start on the matter.'

'I have but merely skimmed the surface,' she replied. 'I have asked a question or two but have not yet started to seek the truth. Come, there is much to be done!'

She walked swiftly back to the abbey, through the gate and across the flagged courtyards. Here and there little groups of scholars and some of the teaching religious turned from their huddled bands to surreptitiously examine her as she passed for the news had spread rapidly through the abbey of her purpose there. She ignored them, moving swiftly to the main gateway and there saw the object of her search—the enthusiastic young Sister Necht.

She was about to hail her when Necht looked up and saw Fidelma. She came running towards her, with an undignified gait.

'Sister Fidelma!' she gasped. 'I was about to set out to find you. Brother Tola asked me to give you this package. It is from Brother Martan.'

She handed Fidelma a rectangular piece of sackcloth. Fidelma took it and unfolded it. Inside were several pieces of long strips of linen, as if torn from a larger piece of material. There were spots of deep brown which Fidelma presumed to be the stains of blood. The color of the linen itself had been enhanced by dyes in particolored fashion consisting of blues and reds. The pieces were frayed and looked fragile. Fidelma took one of the strips and held it, one end in each hand, giving it a sharp tug. It tore easily.

'Not very efficient as a constraint,' observed Cass.

Fidelma glanced appraisingly at him.

'No,' she replied thoughtfully as she rewrapped the cloth and placed the material in her large satchel purse. 'Now, Sister Necht, I need you to conduct us to Sister Grella's library.'

To her surprise the young girl shook her head.

'That I cannot do, sister.'

'Why, what ails you?' Fidelma demanded testily.

'Nothing. But the abbot has also sent me to seek you out and bring you to him. He says he must see you without delay.'

'Very well,' Fidelma said reluctantly. 'If Abbot Brocc wants to see me then I shall not disappoint him. But why the urgency?'

'Ten minutes ago, Salbach, chieftain of the Corco Loigde, arrived in response to a message which Brocc sent him. The chieftain appears very angry.'

Chapter Eight

Fidelma and Cass began to follow as Sister Necht led the way towards the chambers of the abbot. After a moment, the young novice noticed Cass following. She halted and looked embarrassed.

'What is it now?' demanded Fidelma.

'I was told to bring only yourself, sister,' she explained, with an awkward glance at Cass.

'Very well,' Fidelma sighed. 'You can wait for me at the hostel, Cass.'

The tall warrior made a small grimace of disappointment but took himself off while she continued to follow Necht. The broad-shouldered sister seemed agitated and hurried while Fidelma maintained a more leisurely pace. The young novice had to keep stopping in order to wait for her. Fidelma refused to be hurried and rejected the idea of arriving before the abbot and the chieftain of the Corco Lofgde in a flustered and breathless fashion.

'It's all right, Necht,' Fidelma finally said, irritated by the girl's insistence on trying to get her to hurry. 'I know the way to the abbot's chambers from here, so you may leave me in safety.'

The girl paused and seemed about to protest but Fidelma drew her brows together in annoyance. The expression was enough to dissuade the novice from any arguments that might have been forming on her tongue. She bobbed her head obediently and left Fidelma.

Fidelma continued across the flagged yard into the granite building which housed the abbot's chambers. She had moved into a small, dark hallway and was crossing to the steps which led up to the second floor on which the abbot's main chamber was situated when a shadow stirred in the darkness at the foot of the steps.

'Sister!'

Fidelma halted and peered curiously into the shadows. The figure was familiar.

'Is that Cetach?'

The figure of the boy moved forward into the gloomy light. Fidelma noted the tension in his body, the way his shoulders were positioned, the poise of the head.

'I must speak with you,' whispered the young black-haired lad, as if he were scared of being overheard.

Fidelma raised an eyebrow in the gloom.

'It is inconvenient now. I am on my way to see the abbot. Let us meet later…'

'No, wait!' The voice almost rose to a wail of despair. Fidelma found Cetach's hand clutching imploringly at her arm.

'What is it? What are you frightened of?'

'Salbach, the chieftain of the Corco Lofgde, is with the abbot.'

'This I know,' Fidelma said. 'But what is frightening you, Cetach?'

'When you speak with him do not mention me or my brother.'

Fidelma tried to examine the boy's features, annoyed that the shadows obscured his expression.

'Are you scared of Salbach?'

'It is too long a story—I cannot tell you now, sister. Please, do not mention us. Do not even say that you know us.'

'Why? What do you fear from Salbach?'

The boy's grip tightened on her arm.

'For pity's sake, sister!' His voice was filled with such fear that Fidelma patted his shoulder in reassurance.

'Very well,' she said. 'You have my promise. But when I am finished, we must talk and you must tell me what this means.'

'You promise that you will not mention us?'

'I promise,' she replied gravely.

The boy abruptly turned and scurried away into the shadows leaving a bemused Fidelma staring in the gloom.

She waited a moment or two before heaving a sigh and then she began to mount the steps.

Abbot Brocc was waiting impatiently for her. He had apparently been pacing before his table and stopped as