“Moenach was strong. I could not prevail against him. It was a physical attack.”
“And you told Nath about this?”
The girl paused a moment, examining Fidelma’s face from under lowered eyelids, and then nodded quickly.
“I see. And Nath was angry, of course?”
“I have never seen him so angry.”
“When was this? How long before Moenach was killed?”
“He did not kill Moenach.”
Fidelma smiled thinly.
“I did not make such an accusation. But what makes you so emphatic?”
“He would not. It is not in Nath’s nature.”
“It is in the nature of all men given the right motive. Answer my question, then: how long before Moenach was killed did you tell Nath of this attack?”
“It was on the same afternoon that Moenach died. Scarcely an hour before.”
“When did you learn of Moenach’s death?” Fidelma asked.
“Why…” the girl frowned, “it was when Father Allan and some others of the community came searching for the old woman Mui-renn. But Father Allan said that Muirenn had been seen with the murder weapon in her hand.”
“Did you see Nath afterward?”
Ainder appeared reluctant to speak and so Fidelma pressed the question again.
“That very evening,” the girl replied unwillingly. “He came to me and was frightened. He had heard the news but was afraid for himself.”
“He must have known Muirenn was suspected. What made him run away?”
“Because he thought that he would be suspected. His dislike of Moenach was well known. And Nath believed that should the news of Moenach’s attack on me come out, whether it was believed or not, he would be singled out as a suspect in the murder.”
Fidelma looked at the girl sadly.
“Certainly, Nath is now more suspected than the old woman, Muirenn. Which makes me ask, why have you told me this story so readily, Ainder, when it makes things look so bad for Nath?”
The girl looked aggrieved at the question.
“I tell it because it is the truth and are we not taught that the truth stands against all things? Nath cannot continue to hide forever. I cannot marry with an outlaw forever hiding the fastnesses and shadows of this land. I have urged Nath to surrender himself many times and rely on truth as his shield.”
Fidelma sat back and regarded the girl thoughtfully.
“You realize just how bad the situation is for Nath if he does not return to be heard before me?”
“I do. I believe that he should do so and that the truth will free him.”
“If that is so, will you tell me where Nath is hiding?”
The girl dropped her eyes to the ground. She did not speak for a long while. Then she sighed, as if making up her mind.
“Can I bring Nath to you?”
“It is all the same to me,” Fidelma replied indifferently. “Just so long as he presents himself before me.”
“Then I will bring him to Muirenn’s
Fidelma did not really expect Brother Nath to turn up that evening. Somehow she did not really trust the credulous attitude of Ainder. She had been waiting in Muirenn’s cabin for half an hour before she heard Ainder’s voice call softly.
Fidelma was seated in a chair beside the grey remnants of the dead turf fire.
Ainder’s shadowy figure stood for a while framed in the doorway.
Fidelma rose and lit a candle.
It was then she saw the pale young man in the robes of a reli-gieux standing nervously behind the young woman.
“And so you are Nath?” she asked.
Ainder drew the young man into the cabin by her hand and quickly closed the door.
“I have told him not to fear you, Sister Fidelma, but only to speak the truth.”
Fidelma studied the young man. He was fresh-faced, tousle-haired and had a look of bemusement as if he were caught in a stream of events over which he had no control. Something maternal stirred in Fidelma for the youth had the vacant expression of a little boy lost and alone in a frightening forest. She shook herself to rid her mind of the emotion.
She gestured for him to sit down.
“Tell me your story, Nath,” she invited, also seating herself.
“Little to tell,” the boy said quietly. “I love Ainder and wish to marry her. Moenach was always an enemy to me, to me and to my other brethren. He was a bully always, as a child and as a youth. He delighted in actions that harmed us but like most bullies he knew how to ingratiate himself to his betters. Father Allan would not hear a word against him. Moenach engineered the expulsion of Follamon…”
“I know about this. I have talked with Brother Ninnedo.”
Nath gave her an intense look.
“Then you know what Moenach was really like?”
“I know what I have been told. So when Ainder came to you and told you what had happened, you were in a great rage?”
Nath lowered his head and sighed.
“I rage still. Sister, I do not regret Moenach’s death. We are taught to forgive our enemies, them that do us ill. I cannot find it in my heart to do so. I rejoice in his death. I approve his ultimate punishment. My heart is exuberant. My mind tells me, however, that this is not the law nor the path of the Living God.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No!” The word was ejaculated like a rasping breath.
“Then why did you run away? Muirenn had been taken prisoner and the rest of the community thought the guilt lay at her door. Why bring suspicion down on your head?”
Nath looked bewildered.
“There were many who did not believe in Muirenn’s guilt and believed that Father Allan was using her as an easy scapegoat to protect Moenach’s reputation.”
“If they knew Muirenn to be innocent, they must have known someone to be guilty. By running, you provided a suspect.”
Nath shook his head. “Knowing that it is impossible for someone to kill does not mean that one must have knowledge of who committed the deed.”
“That is true,” conceded Fidelma. “You, for instance, knew Mui-renn not to be guilty of the deed. You claim that you, too, are innocent. Why should you be believed any more than Muirenn?”
“Father Allán said… I thought it for the best until I could make myself heard before a Brehon.”
“What did Father Allan say?” demanded Fidelma sharply.
Nath hesitated.
“When Ainder told me her story, I went straightaway to tell Father Allan. As before, he did not believe me. He fell into a terrible rage and it was some time before he calmed himself. He would not believe anything against his favorite. He told me to go away and never speak of it again. Later, when I heard Moenach was dead, I feared Father Allan would blame me.”
“So Father Allan knew that Ainder accused Moenach of rape?” mused Fidelma. “And you, Nath, you blindly ran into hiding even though you must have realized that, in the meantime, your running away would compound any suspicions of your own guilt?”
“But there was no suspicion,” interposed Ainder, “for everyone thought that Muirenn had committed the deed.”
