clock.
‘I could not rest. I have been feeling much anxiety. What if your suggestion were true and that some evil has befallen our two sisters on their return from Ard Fhearta? I could not fall asleep. And because I could not sleep, I noticed that a lengthy time had passed since I heard the stroke of the gong, which should sound each passing time period.’
The abbess paused briefly for apparent reflection before continuing.
‘I realised that the gong had not been sounded for some time. This was unlike Sister Síomha who is usually so punctilious in such matters. I rose from my bed and dressed and came to the tower to find out what was wrong.’
‘Were you carrying a candle?’ interposed Fidelma.
The abbess frowned uncertainly at the question and then nodded hastily.
‘Yes, yes. I had lit a candle in my chambers and used it to light my way across the courtyard to the tower. I entered the tower, moving through the library and into the copyists’ room. I was crossing the room when something prompted meto call to Sister Síomha. It was so quiet. I felt something was wrong and so I called.’
‘Go on,’ Fidelma urged after she had hesitated.
‘It was a moment later that a dark shadow came charging down the stairs. It happened so suddenly that I was knocked aside, my candle went flying. The person pushed by me and out of the room.’
‘What then?’
‘I continued up the stairs to this room.’
‘Without a candle?’
‘I saw that the lamps were lit exactly as they are now. Then I saw Sister Síomha’s body.’
‘You saw the headless corpse on the floor?’
Abbess Draigen’s face was suddenly angry.
‘The person who passed me on the stair was Sister Berrach. I have no doubt of it. You know, having seen Berrach, that it would be impossible to mistake anyone else for her.’
Fidelma could concede the point but she wanted to make sure.
‘That is what worries me. You say that Berrach came “charging down the stairs” — your words — but we both know that Berrach has a deformity. Are you certain that it was Berrach? Remember your candle was flung from your hand and she passed you in the darkness.’
‘Perhaps I have used the wrong phrase in my agitation. The figure moved with alacrity but, even so, I know her misshapen form anywhere.’
Fidelma silently agreed that Sister Berrach was not a person one could easily mistake for another.
‘And after she had run by you …?’
‘I came immediately to you so that you might witness this madness.’
Fidelma was grim. ‘Let us go in search of Sister Berrach.’
The Abbess Draigen was now in control of her emotions since unburdening her story. She grunted cynically.
‘She will have fled the abbey by now.’
‘Even if she has, unless she has access to a horse and can ride, she would not have been able to go far. Nevertheless …’
Fidelma fell silent at the sound of a soft footfall on the steps below.
The abbess started forward as if to say something but Fidelma placed a finger over her lips and motioned her back. Someone was climbing the stairs towards the clepsydra room.
Fidelma found her body tensing and she felt irritated that this was so. Surely, if anything, she had been trained not to respond to outside stimuli so that she was prepared at all times. She carefully relaxed her tightening muscles. And moved to stand with the abbess so that whoever entered the room would do so with their back towards them. Someone in the robes of the community came up the stair. Fidelma saw immediately it was not the figure of a young person, she had recognised who it was before they had turned to face into the room.
‘Sister Brónach! What are you doing here at this hour?’
Brónach nearly fell in her startled surprise. She then relaxed as she recognised Fidelma and then the abbess.
‘Why, I have just come from the chamber of Sister Berrach. The girl is distraught. She told me that murder has been committed here.’
‘You have seen her?’ Draigen demanded. ‘She woke you?’
‘No. I was awake already. I was about to come to the tower myself,’ explained Brónach. ‘I had realised that some time had passed since I heard the sounding of the gong. In fact, several time periods must have elapsed since I heard it. So I had risen to come to see what ailed the time-keeper. As I was about to leave my cell, I heard the noise of someone passing hurriedly down the corridor. I realised it was Sister Berrach. I went to see her and found her sitting on her bed in a distressed state. She told me that Sister Síomha was dead and I came directly here to see if she was imagining …’
She suddenly caught sight of the crumpled heap on the floor behind Fidelma and her mouth formed a round shape. Her hand came up to cover it. The eyes widened fearfully.
‘It is Sister Síomha,’ Abbess Draigen confirmed solemnly.
Fidelma, watching the expression on Sister Brónach’s face, was sure that she saw a momentary look of relief in her expression. But it was gone before she could be sure. The light of the lanterns helped to distort facial expressions anyway.
‘Sister Brónach, I require you to see what you can do about resetting the clepsydra,’ Abbess Draigen said, completely in charge again. ‘For generations this community has prided itself on the accuracy of our water- clock. Do what you can to recover the accuracy of our calculations.’
Sister Brónach looked bemused but bowed her head in acquiescence.
‘I will do my best, mother abbess, but …’ she cast a nervous glance to the body.
‘I will rouse some of the sisters to come and take our unfortunate sister to the
It was while she was turning towards the stairs that an idea suddenly occurred to Fidelma. She turned hurriedly back to Sister Brónach.
‘Didn’t you show me that after each time period elapsed, and the gong was sounded, the watcher had to enter the time on a tablet of clay?’
Sister Brónach nodded affirmation.
‘That is the custom in case we loose track of the time periods.’
‘At what time did Sister Síomha make her last notation?’
Fidelma realised that this would at least give her an accurate knowledge of the time Sister Síomha was killed.
Sister Brónach was looking round for the clay writing tablet. She found it lying face-down by the stone-built fireplace and picked it up.
‘Well?’ prompted Fidelma, as she studied it.
‘The second hour of the day has been marked and the first
‘So? She was killed between two-fifteen and two-thirty this morning,’ mused Fidelma.
‘Is that important?’ demanded the Abbess Draigen impatiently. ‘We already know who did this terrible thing.’
‘What hour do you think it is now?’ Fidelma asked.
‘I have no idea.’
‘I have,’ said Sister Brónach. She went to the window and stared up at the lightening night sky. There was a complacent expression on her face. ‘It is well after the fourth hour of the day. I believe it is closer to the fifth hour.’
‘Thank you, sister,’ Fidelma acknowledged absently. Her mind was working rapidly. She asked the abbess, ‘Can you calculate how long ago it was since you found the body?’
Abbess Draigen shrugged.
