‘I do not see that it matters …’
‘Indulge me,’ insisted Fidelma.
‘Less than an hour ago, I would say. I came to you almost immediately that I discovered it.’
‘Indeed. In fact it was much less than an hour ago,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘I would say that we have been here under half-an-hour.’
‘We should go in search of Sister Berrach rather than wasting time in this manner,’ Abbess Draigen insisted.
‘Can’t you question the poor girl in the morning?’ It was Sister Brónach who spoke, surprising Draigen. ‘Sister Berrach has suffered from the shock of finding the body.’
Fidelma asked: ‘Did she tell you that she had found the body?’
‘Not specifically. She told me that Sister Síomha was dead in the tower. So the fact that she found the body is surely obvious.’
‘Perhaps,’ replied Fidelma. ‘I think we should see Sister Berrach now. One thing more, though, since you are here,Sister Brónach,’ she added, causing the Abbess Draigen to heave an impatient sigh. ‘Does the name Mórrigú mean anything to you?’
Sister Brónach shuddered.
‘Surely the name of the evil one is well known, sister? In the ancient times, before the word of the Christ was brought to this land, she was regarded as the goddess of death and battles. She embodied all that was perverse and horrible among the supernatural powers.’
‘So, you have a knowledge of the old pagan ways, then?’ Fidelma observed.
Sister Brónach pouted.
‘Who would not know about the old gods and goddesses and the old ways? I was raised in these very forests where there are many who still cling to the old beliefs.’
Fidelma inclined her head and then, to Abbess Draigen’s apparent relief, turned, took up her candle again and preceded the abbess down the stairs. They had reached the ground floor of the tower when a hollow, knocking sound caused Fidelma to halt. It was the same sound that she had heard in the
Fidelma turned towards a darkened corner of the room, from where the sound echoed loudest, and moved forward cautiously, holding the candle before her.
‘That is only the stairs that lead to the cave below,’ Draigen’s voice came from behind her.
‘Has no one ever traced the source of this sound?’ Fidelma asked as she reached the top of the stairs.
‘No, why should we?’ breathed Draigen nervously. ‘It certainly does not come from our
Fidelma peered down in the gloom.
‘Yet it appears to be coming from there. You said that you believed that it was caused by water filling a cave beneath the abbey?’
‘So I do,’ Draigen did not sound entirely convinced.‘Where are you going?’ she demanded as Fidelma began to descend the stone stairs into the cave below.
‘I just want to check …’ Fidelma did not finish but descended the narrow stairway.
The cave below was empty and now silent. Fidelma looked around in disappointment. There was no place one could hide. A few boxes in one corner but that was all. With a stifled sigh, she turned and began to make her way back up the steps, feeling her way against the cold wall with one hand to help her in the gloom.
The substance was wet and sticky and she knew what it was before she examined her fingers by the candlelight. Then she examined the side of the wall. There was a smear of blood there. It had been made recently.
‘What is it, sister?’ demanded Draigen’s voice from the top of the stairway.
Fidelma was about to explain when she changed her mind.
‘Nothing, mother abbess. It is nothing.’
Outside, in the courtyard, they encountered the anxious figure of Sister Lerben.
‘Something is wrong, mother abbess,’ she greeted breathlessly. ‘The simpleton, Berrach, is sobbing in her cell. I saw lights in the tower but heard no gong from the keeper of the water-clock.’
Abbess Draigen laid a hand on the young woman’s shoulder.
‘Prepare yourself, child. Sister Síomha has been killed. Berrach is responsible …’
‘You do not know that for certain,’ interrupted Fidelma. ‘Let us go and question the girl before we apportion the blame.’
But Sister Lerben had already hurried away with the news, crying to rouse the sleeping community. They had hardly crossed the courtyard before the news was spreading like a wildfire. Everyone was awakening to become aware of what had happened. Abbess Draigen told a passing novice to go tothe dormitories and quiet the tumult but before she could respond the courtyard began to crowd with anxious sisters. The babble of hysterical and angry voices filled the air. Candles and lamps were lit, and sisters hurriedly dressed or with draped cloaks around their shoulders, were gathering in tiny circles, speaking in fearful and angry tones.
Sister Berrach had, it seemed, barricaded herself in her cell. Sister Lerben returned to say that she could still hear Berrach’s wailing cries, a curious mixture of prayers and ancient curses.
‘What shall we do, mother abbess?’
‘I shall go to speak with her,’ Fidelma intervened decisively.
‘That is not a wise idea,’ the abbess advised.
‘Why so?’
‘You know how strong Berrach is, in spite of her deformity. She could easily attack you.’
Fidelma smiled thinly.
‘I do not think that I need to fear Berrach. Where is her cell?’
The young Sister Lerben glanced at the abbess and then gestured with her arm in the direction of one of the dormitory buildings.
‘She has the last cell in that building, sister. But should you not go armed?’
Fidelma shook her head with an expression of annoyance.
‘Wait here and do not come until I call you.’
She raised a hand to shield her candle against the quickening morning breeze and walked across to the building which Sister Lerben had indicated. It was a long wooden building consisting of a corridor with some twelve cell-like chambers along one side. In fact, all the community dormitories seemed to be constructed in such a fashion.
She entered and examined the darkened corridor.
From the end room she could hear Sister Berrach’s sobbing.
‘Sister Berrach!’ Fidelma called, trying to keep her voice from conveying the anxiety that she really felt. ‘Sister Berrach! It is Fidelma.’
There was a pause and the crying seem to halt. There were one or two sniffs.
‘Berrach, it is Sister Fidelma. Do you remember me?’
There was another pause and then Berrach’s voice came defensively.
‘Of course. I am no idiot.’
‘I never thought you were,’ Fidelma replied in a conciliative tone. ‘May we talk?’
‘Are you alone?’
‘Quite alone, Berrach.’
‘Then come forward until I see you.’
Slowly, holding her candle high, Fidelma moved down the corridor. She could hear the scraping of furniture and presumed Berrach was removing a barricade from her door. As she came towards the end of the corridor, the door opened a crack.
‘Stop!’ instructed Berrach’s voice.
Fidelma obeyed immediately.
The door opened further and Berrach’s head appeared to confirm that there was no one else there. Then the door opened wider.
