Suffer Little Children

find was one of the little copper-haired sisters, Cera by name. The girl sat playing with a rag doll and would not answer any of Fidelma's questions.

Fidelma gave up trying to coax some information from her and then searched the upstairs chambers before returning to the lower floor. She heard a noise from Brother Rumann's officium and hastened along to it. There she found Cass seated in the chamber with Brother Rumann. They were crouched either side of a brandubh board engaged in the popular game of 'black raven.' Rumann seemed to be an experienced player for he had taken two of Cass's provincial king pieces, leaving Cass with only his High King and two other provincial king defenders, while his own eight opposing pieces were all intact. Cass was trying vainly to reach the safety of the side of the board, which was divided into forty-nine squares, seven squares one way and seven squares the other. Even as Fidelma looked, Rumann by a deft move placed his pieces so that the High King was clearly opposed without any square to retreat to. Reluctantly, and with some bad grace, Cass conceded the game to the portly brother.

Brother Rumann glanced up with a satisfied smile as he saw Fidelma.

'Do you play this game, sister?'

Fidelma nodded curtly. Every child of a king or chieftain was taught brandubh and other board games of skill as part of their education. The game had a deep significance for the main piece represented the High King at Tara whose defenders were the four provincial kings of Ulaidh, Laigin, Muman and Connacht. The eight attacking pieces had to be checked by the four provincial kings, allowing the center to hold steady or, if threatened, to escape to the side of the board, although this escape was only made in desperation when the player had no other options.

'Perhaps we shall get a chance to test each other's mettle?' invited Rumann eagerly.

'Perhaps we shall,' Fidelma returned politely. 'But I have little time now.'

She motioned with her eyes for Cass to follow her and once outside told him the news from Cashel. Like Fidelma, he was not surprised. The death of Cathal had been imminent when they had left the seat of the Muman kings.

'Your brother inherits a heavy burden, Fidelma,' Cass observed. 'Does it change matters here at all?'

'No. It only makes the success of our task more pressing.' Fidelma went on to ask him whether he had seen either of the young boys, Cetach or Cosrach.

Cass shook his head.

'As if I do not have enough on my hands.' Fidelma was exasperated. 'Is it not enough that I am trying to solve the mystery of the murder of Dacan without this further mystery concerning these children?'

When Cass looked bewildered, she unbent to tell him of what the boy Cetach had said and of her unfriendly discussion with Salbach.

'I have heard that Salbach is overbearing and arrogantly hot-tempered,' Cass confessed. 'Perhaps I should have warned you?'

'No. It is best that I made up my own mind.'

'Even so, from what you say it appears that he was almost trying to protect Intat from accusation.'

'Almost. Maybe he simply wanted proof of the accusations. After all, he had apparently appointed Intat as a magistrate himself.'

The bell for the midday meal began to sound.

'Let us forget these mysteries until later,' Cass suggested. 'The children will probably be at the midday meal anyway. I've never known a child to disappear from a meal. And if they are not there, well, I can look for them this afternoon while you carry on with your investigation.'

'That is an excellent suggestion, Cass,' Fidelma agreed readily. 'I need to question the librarian and the chief professor about the Venerable Dacan's role at Ros Ailithir.'

They passed into the refectory hall. Fidelma peered carefully around but saw no sign of the boys, Cetach or Cosrach, nor, for that matter, did she see Sister Eisten. Cass, as he had promised, left the refectory immediately after he had eaten to go in search of them.

It was while Fidelma was passing out of the hall at the end of the meal that she overheard a couple of students hailing a tall, elderly man as Brother Segan. She halted and examined the chief professor, the fer-leginn of the college. His scrawny, dark, brooding appearance did not seem to match his personality for he greeted the two students with a ready smile and answered their questions with sentences punctuated by a throaty laugh.

Fidelma waited until the proselytes had departed and Brother Segan was beginning to move off before she saluted him by name.

'Ah, are you Fidelma of Kildare?' Brother Segan gave her a warm smile and extended a firm hand in greeting. 'I had heard that you had arrived here. The Abbot Brocc told me of your coming. I have heard much praise of your judgments in matters of unlawful killing.'

'It is about the Venerable Dacan that I wish to speak.'

'I thought that it might be so.' The lanky professor grinned. 'Walk with me,' he invited, 'and we will talk.'

He led the way through an arch and into the walled abbey garden which was called the lubgort, from the words lub, a herb, and gort, a fenced-in cultivated plot. Even this late in autumn, various odors pleasantly assailed Fidelma's senses. She always felt at peace in gardens, especially herb gardens, for the scents put her into a tranquil mood. There was no sign of anyone within the enclosure and Brother Segan led her to a stone seat in a tiny arboretum. On the other side of the arboretum was a well head. A small round stone wall protected it while a wooden beam on pillars supported a rope on which a bucket could be attached.

'They call this Fachtna's holy well,' explained Segan, observing as Fidelma examined the well. 'It was the original well of the community when Fachtna chose this site but, alas, the community has far outgrown its supply. There are now other wells in the abbey but, for us, this well remains the sacred well of Fachtna.'

He motioned her to be seated.

'Now,' he said briskly, 'ask away with your questions.'

'Did you know Dacan before he came to Ros Ai-lithir?' she began.

Segan shook his head with a smile.

'I had heard of his great reputation, of course. He was a learned man, an ollamh who was a staruidhe. But if you are asking whether I had ever met the man then I must reply that I had not.'

'So he was a professor of history?' Fidelma had no knowledge that Dacan was anything more than a master of divinity.

'Oh yes. History was his speciality,' confirmed Segan.

'Did you know why Dacan came to Ros Ailithir?'

The chief professor grimaced.

'We do have a reputation, sister,' he replied with some amusement. 'Among our numerous students are many from the Saxon kingdoms and even from among the Franks not to mention Britons and those from the five kingdoms of Eireann.'

'I do not think Dacan came here simply because of the reputation of Ros Ailithir,' observed Fidelma candidly. 'I think he came here for a specific need.'

Segan reflected for a moment or two.

'Yes, perhaps you are right,' he admitted. 'Forgive my vanity, for I would like to think that our reputation for learning was the only reason. The simple answer is that he undoubtedly came here to plunder our library for knowledge. For what particular purpose that was, I do not know. You will have to consult our librarian, Sister Grella.'

'Did you like Dacan?'

Segan did not reply immediately, apparently gathering his thoughts. Then he held his head to one side and chuckled softly.