Draigen, taking advantage of the frailty and age of the old abbess, began to purge the abbey of all its male members and designed to make it a house of female religieuses only. Brother Febal was the last to be driven from his post and came to join me as my religious advisor. Not long after, the old abbess died. It did not surprise me to find that my sister Draigen was appointed in her stead.’
‘You imply that Draigen is ruthless and ambitious?’
‘That you may judge for yourself.’
‘Well, what you are also saying is that Brother Febal hasgood cause to hate Draigen; good cause to stir up enmity between you and her and good cause to create rumours over the finding of this corpse.’
‘From an outsider’s position this may seem true,’ Adnár admitted. ‘I will not try to convince you to my views. The only reason I wanted to see and speak with you before Draigen, when you arrived yesterday, was to alert you to certain things. To ask you to follow those paths I have pointed to. Whether you choose to or not is your concern. You are an advocate of the courts and is not your war-cry,
‘To seek the truth is our maxim not a war-cry,’ she corrected pedantically. ‘That I shall endeavour to do. But accusation is not truth. Suspicion is not a fact. I shall need to speak further with this Brother Febal.’
Adnár ran a hand through his black curly mane of hair.
‘You may return with me to the fortress, though I am not sure whether Febal will be there now. As I came away, I believe he was about to conduct Torcán and his men to a place of pilgrimage across the mountain.’
‘If he has done so, when will he return?’
‘Later this evening, undoubtedly.’
‘Then I will see him tomorrow. Tell him to come to the abbey.’
Adnár looked uncomfortable.
‘He would probably not wish to, Draigen would not make him welcome.’
‘My will over-rules Draigen in this matter,’ Fidelma replied coldly. ‘He will meet me at the guest’s hostel after the breaking of the fast. I shall expect him.’
‘I will convey that to him,’ sighed Adnár.
Adnár suddenly raised his head in a listening attitude. A moment later Fidelma heard the crunch of shoes on the frosty ground and turned. Coming along the woodland path was the figure of a religieuse, head bowed and cowled, a
‘Good day, sister.’
The girl halted and glanced up startled. Fidelma recognised her immediately. It was the young Sister Lerben.
‘Good day,’ she mumbled.
Adnár rose smiling.
‘It seems a custom of the abbey religieuses to tread this path this day,’ he observed ironically. ‘Surely it is dangerous to be alone here, sister? It will be dark before long.’
Lerben’s eyes flashed in annoyance and then she dropped them.
‘I am on my way to see,’ she hesitated and glanced at Fidelma, ‘to see Torcán of the Ui Fidgenti.’ Her hand went automatically to the
Adnár continued to smile and shook his head.
‘Alas, as I was just explaining to Sister Fidelma, Torcán has just left my fortress and will not return until this evening. Can I give him some message?’
Sister Lerben hesitated again and then nodded swiftly. She removed a small oblong object wrapped in a piece of cloth from her
‘Would you ensure that he is given this? He requested its loan from our library and I was asked to deliver it.’
‘I will pass this on with pleasure, sister.’
Fidelma reached forward and effortlessly intercepted the package before Adnár could take it. She unwrapped the cloth and gazed at the vellum book.
‘Why, this is a copy of the annals being kept at Clonmacnoise, the great abbey founded by the Blessed Ciarán.’
She raised her eyes to see an anxious look on Sister Lerben’s face. But Adnár was smiling.
‘I had not realised young Torcán was so interested in history,’ he said. ‘I will have to speak with him about this.’
He reached forth a hand but Fidelma was glancing through its vellum pages. She had spotted some stains on one page, ared muddy stain. She had time only to see that the page contained an entry about the High King Cormac Mac Art before Adnár had gently but firmly removed it from her hold and rewrapped it in the cloth.
‘This is not the place to study books,’ he observed jocularly. ‘It is far too cold. Do not worry, sister,’ he told Lerben. ‘I will make sure the book is safely delivered to Torcán.’
Fidelma rose to her feet and began to brush the leaves, twigs and dusty, rotting wood from her dress.
‘Do you know Torcán well? It is a long way from the land of the Ui Fidgenti.’
Adnár tucked the book under his arm.
‘I hardly know him at all. He was a guest of Gulban at his fortress and has come down here as a guest of Olcán, to hunt and see some of the ancient sites for which our territory is renowned.’
‘I did not think that the Ui Fidgenti were welcomed by the people of the Loígde.’
Adnár chuckled dryly.
‘There have been battles fought between us, there is no denying that. It is time, however, that old quarrels and prejudices were overcome.’
‘I agree,’ Fidelma said. ‘But I point out the obvious. Eoganán, the prince of the Ui Fidgenti, has conspired in many wars against the Loígde.’
‘Territorial wars,’ agreed Adnár. ‘Were everyone to keep to their own territory and not try to interfere in the concerns of other clans then there would be no need for warfare.’ He grinned crookedly. ‘But, thanks be to God that there was need for warriors when I was a young man otherwise I would not have risen to my present station.’
Fidelma gazed at him a moment, head to one side.
‘So you, who won your wealth in wars against the Ui Fidgenti, are now entertaining the son of the prince of that tribe?’
Adnár nodded.
‘It is the way of the world. Yesterday’s enemies are today’s bosom friends, although, as I pointed out, to be precise, the young man is Olcán’s guest and not mine.’
‘And yesterday’s brother and sister are today’s bitterest enemies,’ added Fidelma softly.
Adnár shrugged.
‘Would it were otherwise, sister. But it is not otherwise but thus.’
‘Very well, Adnár. I thank you for your frankness with me. I shall expect Brother Febal tomorrow.’
She turned to where Sister Lerben had been standing nervously, as if unable to make up her mind whether to depart or join in this conversation. Fidelma looked at the young girl with a warm smile. Lerben was surely no more than sixteen or seventeen years old.
‘Come, sister. Let us return to the abbey and we will talk on the way.’
She turned down the path and began to retrace her steps through the wood. After a moment, Lerben fell in step with her, leaving Adnár standing by his horse, absently stroking the horse’s muzzle as he watched them disappear among the trees. He took the book from under his arm and, unwrapping the cloth covering, stared moodily at it, seemed locked into his thoughts for a long time before rewrapping it, thrusting it in his saddle bag, untying the reins of his steed and clambering up. Then he nudged his horse’s belly with his heels and sent it trotting along the forest track in the direction of his fortress.
