The Subtle Serpent

‘So you know Brother Febal?’

‘Know him?’ Abbess Draigen laughed hollowly. ‘Know him? He was my husband.’

For the second time in a short period, Fidelma was shocked. That Adnár was Draigen’s brother was a matter of surprise. That Febal turned out to be her former husband was almost absurd. There was some deeper mystery here that she could not quite understand.

Abbess Draigen had suddenly drawn herself together and said coldly: ‘I think that is enough prying into my personal life, sister. As you so succinctly put it, you are here to investigate a murder. In doing so, you seem to display a talent to vex people, including my house steward as well as myself. Perhaps you would now confine yourself to your investigation.’

Fidelma hesitated, not wishing to make the situation any worse. Then she decided that she had to continue the road her investigation was taking her.

‘I thought, Abbess Draigen, that I was confining myself to the investigation. You may wish to know that both your brother and Febal suggest that you might be implicated in the murder of the girl found in your well.’

The abbess’s eyes glinted with anger.

‘Yes? For what reason?’

‘They suggested that you had a reputation.’

‘A reputation?’

‘Of a sexual nature. It was suggested that the crime might have been committed to cover such misdemeanours.’

There was no disguising the look of repulsion on Abbess Draigen’s face.

‘I might have expected this from my brother and his lickspittle. Their souls to the devil! May they die the death of kittens!’

Fidelma sighed deeply. The curse of the death of kittens was to wish someone would die of drowning.

‘Mother abbess, it ill behoves one of your position to utter such curses. I need to ask you again, why it is your brother and Brother Febal should level such charges against you, or spread such rumours? Your attitude indicates to me that they are without foundation.’

‘Ask Adnár and his lickspittle, Febal, if you must know. I am sure that they will invent a suitable story.’

‘Mother abbess, ever since I arrived here, I have found much arrogance and deception. Also, there is great hatred and threatening evil here. If there is anything I should know further about the background to this matter, I urge you to tell me now. I shall find out, eventually. Be sure of that.’

Abbess Draigen’s face was graven.

‘And I can assure you, Sister Fidelma, that the finding of an unidentified corpse at this abbey has nothing to do with the mutual dislike that exists between my brother, myself, and my former husband Brother Febal.’

Fidelma tried to read beyond Draigen’s wooden expression but gathered nothing.

‘I must ask these questions,’ she said, slowly rising to her feet. ‘If I do not then I shall be failing in my task.’

Draigen followed her with her eyes.

‘You may do what you think you must, sister. I can nowsee the purpose of your questions to Sister Síomha which touched on me. I can assure you that I am not guilty of any crime. If I were, surely I would not have sent to Brocc, the abbot of Ros Ailithir, requesting an advocate of the courts to come here to investigate.’

‘I follow your reasoning, mother abbess. Yet others have been subtle in seeking to evade suspicion in ways that you might not credit.’

Draigen snorted in disgust.

‘Then you must do as you think fit. Neither I nor Sister Síomha have anything to fear from the truth.’

Sister Fidelma was halfway to the door when the abbess’s last sentence halted her. She swung round and faced Abbess Draigen.

‘Since you mention it, I have seen fear in Sister Síomha’s eyes. I asked her if she recognised the headless corpse …’

She held up a hand to silence Draigen’s immediate protest.

‘One may still recognise a corpse even when its head is missing.’

‘I am sure that Sister Síomha did not.’

‘So she told me. But why would she fear that question?’

Abbess Draigen shrugged eloquently.

‘That is not a matter for me.’

‘Of course not. Her fear increased when I asked her whether all the sisters of this community were accounted for.’

Abbess Draigen gave another of her dry chuckles.

‘You think that the headless corpse was one of our own sisters? Come, Sister Fidelma, you must have more talent in your art than to consider that we would not know if one of our own sisters had been murdered, decapitated and thrown down our drinking well!’

‘It would be logical to presume so. Though members of a religious community would hardly be able to recognise a naked body without a head as someone they are used to seeing and recognising by face only.’

‘This is true. But no one here is unaccounted for,’ confirmed the Abbess Draigen.

‘So every member of the community is within the confines of the abbey?’

Abbess Draigen hesitated.

‘No. I did not say that. I said that every member of the community is accounted for.’

Fidelma felt a sudden surge of adrenalin.

‘I have yet to reason that subtle alteration in emphasis.’

‘Often members of our community go on missions, on journeys to other abbeys.’

‘Ah,’ Fidelma tensed. ‘So there are members of your community away at the moment?’

‘Only two members.’

‘Why was I not told this?’

‘It was not the question which you asked, sister,’ replied the abbess.

Fidelma’s lips compressed.

‘There is hardship enough in this matter without games of mind reading and semantics. Explain who is away from the abbey at this time and why.’

Abbess Draigen blinked at the sharpness in Fidelma’s voice.

‘Sister Comnat and Sister Almu are away at this time. They are on a mission to the abbey of the Blessed Brenainn at Ard Fhearta.’

‘When did they go?’

‘Three weeks ago.’

‘Why did they go?’

Abbess Draigen was looking irritated.

‘You may not know that we, in this abbey, have some reputation for our penmanship. We copy books for other houses. Our sisters have just completed a copy of Murchú’s life of the Blessed Patrick of Ard Macha. Sister Comnat was our leabhar coimedach, our librarian, while Almu was her assistant. They were given the task of taking the copy of the book to Ard Fhearta.’

‘Why didn’t Sister Síomha tell me this?’ snapped Fidelma.

‘Presumably because …’

‘I am tired of hearing presumptions, Abbess Draigen,’ she interrupted. ‘Summon Sister Síomha now.’

The Abbess Draigen paused for a moment as if to control her response to Fidelma’s anger and then, clenching her jaw tight, she reached forward and rang a small silver bell that stood on her table. Sister Lerben entered a moment later and the abbess told her to ask the rechtaire to attend her immediately.

A few moments passed before there came a tap on the door and it opened. Sister Síomha entered,