Suffer Little Children

the laws of this kingdom,' Fidelma instructed the scriptor as he hurried off to perform his task.

'You must explain, cousin,' Brocc said, reseating himself. 'You are saying that Grella realizes that you have discovered her guilty secret and that she is trying to flee?'

'I wish I could explain fully, cousin,' Fidelma responded. 'But I am not in possession of all the facts. Can you tell me anything about Sister Eisten and her relationship with your librarian?'

Brocc raised his hands as if in supplication.

'Poor Eisten. There is little to tell. She trained at this very abbey and was initially trained to help the physician, Midach. She specialized in the care of children. She had been with us since the age of fourteen, apart from the three years during which she went on pilgrimage to the Holy Land.'

'Brother Conghus told me that she also studied in the library,' Fidelma interrupted.

'Eisten was no scholar but she did do some studying in the library earlier in the year.'

'And how did Eisten come to be sent to Rae na Serine?'

'So far as I recall, Sister Eisten volunteered to go there and look after the travelers' hostel we maintain there. This was about six months ago. There were some orphans in the vicinity and Eisten took to looking after their needs as well. She did much good work at Rae na Serine.'

He paused and picked up a jug of water, raising his eyebrows in inquiring fashion towards Fidelma. She shook her head. Brocc then poured himself a drink and sipped it slowly.

'Go on,' Fidelma prompted.

'Well, we knew that the Yellow Plague had reached the village earlier this summer. There seemed no rhyme nor reason as to who its victims were. I and Brother Midach, for example, have had a touch of it but have recovered. So has Sister Grella. But Eisten had not. Yet she did not succumb to it.'

'There is no accounting for it,' Fidelma agreed solemnly. 'Go on.'

'Eisten insisted on remaining in the village but we heard that things were getting worse. Midach went to visit her there several times this last week. Finally you brought us the terrible news of Intat's destruction of the village and its surviving inhabitants.'

'You knew Intat, of course?'

'Not personally. But I knew that Intat was one of Salbach's right-hand men. You saw how angry Salbach was when he came to the abbey after I had reported what you had told me. At first he seemed to refuse to believe the story. He only accepted it when you told him who you were and he was therefore unable to challenge your authority.'

Fidelma leaned forward a little, anger showing on her features.

'It is a poor chieftain who accepts truth only when told him by an authority greater than his. Did it occur to you that Intat might, for some reason, have been acting with Salbach's approval?'

Brocc was horrified.

'Of course not. Salbach is of an ancient line of chieftains of the Corco Loigde. He traces his line back to…'

Fidelma was openly sarcastic.

'I know; he traces his line to Mil Easpain, the founder of the race of the children of the Gael. Yet he would not be the first distinguished chieftain to go contrary to the laws of God and man. Might I remind you that perhaps the very reason we have this situation is because we are prisoners of history? It was a king of Laigin, who was also a descendant of a line of ancient and distinguished kings, who took it upon himself to murder Edirsceal, the High King? That was when this drama began.'

'That is ancient history, almost legend.'

'As this will be a thousand years from now.'

Brocc sat back in his chair slowly shaking his head.

'I will not believe this of Salbach. Besides, what gain is there in this matter for him?'

Fidelma smiled thinly.

'Gain? Indeed, that is a good motive for all our actions. What do we gain from some action or another? Well, if I knew the answer to that, I would know the answer to many a question. I suppose you have known Salbach for a long time?'

'For eighteen years, from the day I came to this abbey. I have known him more closely for the last ten years, since I was elected abbot by the brethren here.'

'And what do you know of him?'

'Know? I know that he is regarded as a good chieftain. He has the pride of his ancestry and perhaps he is a little too autocratic at times. All in all, however, I think it may be said that his rule is fair and just.'

'I was told that he had ambition.'

'Ambition? Don't we all have ambition?'

'Perhaps. And perhaps Salbach's ambitious eyes have looked beyond Corco Lofgde?'

'As is his right, cousin. If he is descended of the line of Ir, related to Mil Easpain who conquered this land at the dawn of time and peopled it with the children of the Gael…'

Fidelma grimaced as if in pain.

'Spare me from the boredom of genealogy. Ambition is fine so long as the sparrow does not crave to become the falcon,' she commented dryly. 'Anyway, what else can you tell me of Salbach? Did he know Sister Eisten?'

'Not to my knowledge.'

'It would surprise you to know that Eisten was at Salbach's fortress with Sister Grella just over a week ago?'

Brocc's expression showed that it did surprise him.

'So you do think there is some connection, then, between poor Sister Eisten's death and that of the Venerable Dacan?' he demanded.

'A connection—yes. How strong, I do not know. But that I am determined to discover.'

Abbot Brocc's face had been growing longer as he surveyed the perplexities of the situation.

'It does not seem that you are closer to solving the mystery of Dacan's death, though. And time is not on our side, cousin.'

'I am well aware of this, Brocc,' replied Fidelma softly.

'Well, remember that I am held ultimately responsible, under the law, for the death of Dacan. I cannot afford to pay the compensation or fines.'

'Be at peace, Brocc,' Fidelma reassured him. 'Laigin is not interested in you nor the seven cufyials of the eric fine. They are interested in the honor price and their eyes are set on the land of Osraige. They will be content with nothing else.'

'Yet their warship sits there still.' Brocc flung out at hand to the bay beyond the window.

'You can't begrudge Laigin its right under law.'

Fidelma replied. 'The ship will do nothing. It is there only to remind you of your responsibility as abbot in charge of the community where Dacan met his death.'

There was a tap on the door and, in answer to Brocc's call, Cass entered.

Fidelma knew from his glum face that he had no news.

'Nothing,' he confirmed. 'No sign at all of Sister Grella. The captain was angry but he did not prevent my searching, even into the stinking hold of the vessel. I pledge my honor that she is not on board.'

Fidelma felt a heavy burden sinking on her shoulders.

She rose and went to the window again.

The sails of the Frankish merchantman were being unfurled. She could hear the sounds of the cracking and filling of the canvas sail before the morning offshore breeze; she could hear the cry of the orders rising to mingle with the scream of the gulls as they circled and wheeled around the sedately moving vessel.