Our Lady of Darkness

‘I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?’

The little man scowled. ‘No!’

‘I have it! You were in the abbey courtyard watching them take down the body of Brother Ibar.’

‘Why shouldn’t I have been? I do a lot of trade with the abbey.’

‘Do you have a morbid interest in the grotesque, or was the fate of Brother Ibar of particular interest to you?’ Fidelma asked the question out of instinct rather than logic.

Lassar, who had been standing by, puzzled at the exchange, intervened helpfully.

‘Gabrán does do a lot of trade up and down the river. Isn’t that right?’

The man merely turned and left the inn without replying to either question. Lassar smiled apologetically.

‘I think you may have hurt his feelings. If you want to know, Sister, it was one of Gabrán’s men who was killed and robbed by Brother Ibar.’

Dego grimaced towards Fidelma. ‘Did I do wrong in intervening?’

She shook her head and turned towards Lassar who was putting freshly baked bread on the table.

‘He does not look much like a boatman or river man to me, apart from his clothing.’

The big woman shrugged. ‘Yet he is a river man, Sister. He runs his own boat called the Cág, trading along the river. Now and then he stays here in the inn when he has had his fill of drink and cannot find his way back to his boat. He was here the night his man was killed.’

‘The Cág? Isn’t Jackdaw a strange name for a boat?’

Lassar was indifferent to the nuance of the name. ‘Each to their own, I say.’

Fidelma smiled shortly. ‘A wise saying. What do you know of the murder of his crewman?’

‘I know nothing at first hand.’

‘You must have heard some gossip about it, though,’ Fidelma pressed.

‘Gossip is not always truth,’ replied the woman.

‘You are right in that. Yet sometimes, prejudiced knowledge is very helpful in discovering truth. What did you hear?’

‘All I know is that the boatman was found on the quay the day following the murder of the young girl by the Saxon. A day later Brother Ibar was caught with some of the boatman’s belongings and so he was tried and convicted for the crime.’

‘Who heard the case against him?’

‘The Brehon, of course, Bishop Forbassach.’

‘Do you know if Brother Ibar ever admitted that he was guilty?’

‘Not during the trial nor afterwards, so I am told.’

‘And the evidence was that he had the belongings of this boatman on him?’

‘To confirm those facts you would have to ask someone who attended the trial. I have work to do.’

‘One moment! Would it be your brother, Mel, who was involved in catching Ibar? He was captain of the watch, wasn’t he?’

To her surprise, Lassar shook her head.

‘Mel had nothing to do with the case of Ibar. It was one of his watch, though. Daig was the man’s name.’

Fidelma considered this fact in silence and then observed softly: ‘There seems to be much death on that quay by the abbey. It seems an unhappy, dark place.’

Lassar grimaced as she picked up some dishes. ‘There is truth in that. You have met Sister Étromma and her half-wit brother, haven’t you?’

‘Cett? I have. What have they to do with it?’

‘Nothing. I mention them as an example of unhappiness. Would you believe that Sister Étromma was a descendant of the royal line of Laigin, the Uí Cheinnselaig?’

Fidelma tried to recall why it came as no surprise. She was sure that she had been told before.

Lassar grew confidential. ‘Did you know that when the Uí Néill of Ulaidh raided the kingdom when Étromma was a child, she and her brother were taken as hostages. They say that this was when Cett received a wound which has made him simple. A sad tale.’

‘Sad, indeed, but not unique,’ agreed Fidelma.

‘Ah, but what was unique was the fact that although Étromma was of the royal house, the King, Crimthann it was who ruled at that time, refused to pay the ransom money and left the two children to the tender care of the Uí Néill. Étromma’s branch of the family were poor and could not afford the ransom.’

‘What happened?’ asked Fidelma, interested.

‘After a year, Étromma and her brother managed to escape from the north and return here. I think she was very bitter. They both entered the service of the abbey. So you are right, there is much sadness there.’

Lassar gathered the dishes and left the room. Fidelma sat in thought for a moment before finally rising. Dego looked up questioningly.

‘Where to now, my lady?’ he asked.

‘I am going back to the abbey to see what further information I can pick up,’ she told him.

‘Do you think that Bishop Forbassach was right and Brother Eadulf had help to escape?’ asked Dego.

‘I think it would be hard to escape from the cell in which he wasincarcerated without any outside assistance,’ she agreed. ‘But who helped him and why is the mystery we must solve. There is one person who might have helped him and that is a chieftain called Coba. He certainly upholds the Laws of the Fénechus against the Penitentials which Fainder is so fond of. But perhaps it would not do to approach him directly just in case I have been misled. While I am at the abbey, find out what you can about Coba. Don’t make it obvious, though.’

Dego inclined his head in agreement. ‘Eadulf has done a dangerous thing, lady. Do you think he will attempt to contact us?’

‘I hope so,’ Fidelma said fervently. ‘I would want him to stand before Barrán to clear his name. Bishop Forbassach is right in that escape can be interpreted as the sign of a guilty man.’

‘Yet had he not escaped he would have been a dead man,’ Dego reminded her dryly.

For a moment Fidelma felt a surge of bitterness.

‘Do you think I have forgotten that I was helpless to aid Eadulf for all my knowledge of law?’ she snapped at the warrior. ‘Maybe I should have done what someone else has now done.’

‘Lady,’ Dego said swiftly, ‘I meant no criticism of you.’

Fidelma reached out to lay her hand on his arm.

‘Forgive my temper. I am at fault, Dego,’ she said contritely.

‘If Eadulf can avoid capture for the next few days then there is a chance that Aidan will return with Brehon Barrán,’ Dego said reassuringly. ‘If so, that retrial you wish for can be held.’

‘But if he is a free agent now, where will he go?’ mused Fidelma. ‘He might try to take ship and sail for the lands of the Saxons, back to his own country.’

‘Leave this land without telling you, lady? He would not do that now he knows that you are in Fearna.’

This did not comfort Fidelma.

‘He may not have a choice, but I hope he does not delay on my account. Rather he should take to the mountains or woods and wait until the hue and cry has abated.’ She paused, uncomfortably; a dálaigh should not be considering how best the law could be avoided. ‘Where is Enda, by the way?’

‘He went out early. I thought he said he had a mission to perform for you?’

She could not recall instructing Enda to go anywhere but she shrugged and said: ‘If I do not see you before, I will try to meet youboth back here, at the inn, sometime after noon.’

She left Dego finishing his breakfast and walked purposefully through the streets towards the abbey.

It was clear that the news of Brother Eadulf’s escape had spread in the township for, as she walked along, people glanced with undisguised interest at her, some stopping to whisper to their neighbours. Their expressions