“A young girl who lived not far from our community in the forest. She was a seamstress. She sewed garments for our community. She also laundered clothes for us.”
“Where was she found and how was she identified as the thief?”
“Her cabin is within a short distance of where we found Father Ibor,” explained the priest. “I understand from Brother Adag that she had picked up some garments from the community and when she did not return with them, as she had arranged, this morning, Brother Adag went to her cabin and found her-”
Fidelma raised a hand to silence him.
“Let Brother Adag come forth and tell me his story in his own words. It is proper that I hear this matter at first hand. You and Brother Finnlug may wait outside.”
Father Febal looked uncomfortable.
“I think that you had better be warned, Sister.”
“Warned?” Fidelma’s head came up quickly to stare at the priest.
“Brother Adag is slightly simple in nature. In many ways his mind has not matured into adulthood. His role in our community is to do simple manual tasks. He … how shall I explain it?… has a child’s mind.”
“It might be refreshing to speak with one who has remained a child and not developed the contrived attitudes of an adult,” Fidelma smiled thinly. “Bring him hither.”
Brother Adag was a handsome youth but clearly one who was used to taking orders rather than thinking for himself. His eyes were rounded and seem to hold an expression of permanent innocence; of inoffensive naivete. His hands were calloused and showed that he was also a man used to manual work.
“You found the body of the woman, Téite, in her cabin, so I am told?”
The young man drew his brows together as if giving earnest consideration to the question before answering.
“Yes, Sister. When she did not arrive here at midday, with some garments which she had collected the day before and promised to deliver, Father Febal sent me to fetch them. I went to her cabin and she was lying stretched on the floor. There was blood on her clothing. She had been stabbed several times.”
“Ah? So Father Febal sent you to her cabin?”
The youth nodded slowly.
“How old was this woman, Téite? Did you know her?”
“Everyone knew her, Sister, and she was eighteen years and three months of age.”
“You are very exact.” Fidelma smiled at his meticulous diction, as if he considered each word almost before he uttered it.
“Téite told me her age and, as you ask me for it, I told you.” It was a simple statement of fact.
“Was she pretty?”
The youth blushed a little. He dropped his eyes.
“Very pretty, Sister.”
“You liked her?” pressed Fidelma.
The young man seemed agitated.
“No. No, I didn’t.” He protested. His face was now crimson.
“Why ever not?”
“It is the Father’s rule.”
“Father Febal’s rule?”
Brother Adag hung his head and did not reply.
“Rule or not, you still liked her. You may tell me.”
“She was kind to me. She did not make fun like the others.”
“So, what persuaded you that she had stolen the crucifix and chalice from Father Ibor?”
The young Brother turned an ingenuous look upon her.
“Why, the chalice was lying by the side of her body in the cabin.”
Fidelma hid her surprise.
“The chalice only?” She swallowed hard. “Why would someone enter her cottage, kill her and leave such a valuable item by the body?”
Brother Adag clearly did not understand the point she was making. He said nothing.
“What did you do after you found the body?” she continued after a pause.
“Why, I came to tell Father Febal.”
“And left the chalice there?”
Brother Adag sniffed disparagingly.
“I am not stupid. No, I brought it with me. Father Febal has been searching for it these last two days. I brought it back to Father Febal for safekeeping. I even searched for the crucifix but could not find it there.”
“That is all, Adag. Send Father Febal in to me,” Fidelma instructed the youth.
The priest entered a moment later and sat down before Fidelma without waiting to be asked.
“A sad tale,” he muttered. “But at least the matter should be cleared up to your satisfaction now. You may return to give your report to the Abbot.”
“How well did you know this woman, Téite?” asked Fidelma, without commenting.
Father Febal raised his eyebrows a moment and then sighed.
“I have known her since she was a small girl. I went to administer the last rites when her mother died. Téite had barely reached the age of choice then. However, she had a talent with a needle and therefore was able to make a good living. She has lived within the forest these last four years to my knowledge and often repaired or made garments for our community.”
“Did Father Ibor know her?”
Febal hesitated and then gave an odd dismissive gesture with his hand.
“He was a young man. Young men are often attracted to young women.”
Fidelma glanced at the priest curiously.
“So Father Ibor was attracted to the girl?” she asked with emphasis.
“He was in her company more than I found to be usual. I had occasion to reprimand him.”
“Reprimand him? That sounds serious.”
“I felt that he was neglecting his duties to be with the girl.”
“Are you telling me that there was a relationship between Father Ibor and this girl?”
“I am not one to judge such a matter. I know only that they were frequently in one another’s company during the past few weeks, almost since the time he arrived at our little community. I felt that he was ignoring his obligation to his community. That is all.”
“Did he resent your admonition?”
“I really have no idea whether he resented my telling him or not. That was not my concern. My concern was to bring him to an awareness of what was expected of him in this community.”
“You did not have an argument about it?”
“An argument? I am… I
“Clearly it was not an end to it,” observed Fidelma.
Father Febal gave her an angry look.
“I do not know what you mean.”
“The events that have unfolded since you told Father Ibor that he was spending too much time with Téite have demonstrated that it was not an end to the matter,” Fidelma pointed out coldly. “Or do you have some other interpretation of these events?”
Father Febal hesitated.
“You are right. You are implying that the two of them were in the plot to steal the artifacts from the church and, having done so, Father Ibor was overcome with remorse and killed himself….” The priest’s eyes suddenly widened. “Having killed the girl first,” he added.
Fidelma reflectively stroked the side of her nose with a forefinger.
“It is an explanation,” she conceded. “But it is not one that I particularly favor.”
“Why not?” demanded the priest.
“The hypothesis would be that the young priest was so enamored of the girl that they decided to run away,
