Badger's Moon

‘Seachlann has taken his grief badly,’ added Accobrán. ‘His brother is Brocc, the one who has been stirring up the people against the religious.’

‘The one who claims that these visiting religious are the killers?’ Fidelma sought clarification.

‘That is so.’

‘Does Seachlann share his brother’s views?’

‘He does.’

‘Then we must certainly question them both and try to find out their reasons for accusing the religious. What did you say is Seachlann’s profession?’

‘He is the miller. His mill is on the hill due south of us.’

‘And what of the third victim? Can you tell me something of this girl Ballgel?’

‘Indeed we can,’ Becc said. ‘We knew her very well. She worked here in my kitchen with her uncle, Sirin, who is the cook.’

‘Did she live here?’

Accobrán answered with a shake of his head. ‘She did not. She lived with Berrach, an elderly aunt-’

‘Sirin’s wife?’ interposed Eadulf.

‘Sirin is unmarried. No, Berrach is Sirin’s sister but was also sister to Ballgel’s mother. Both of Ballgel’s parents are dead. Berrach looked after her. Berrach has a small bothán more than half an hour’s walk away. It was doubtless wrong of our steward, Adag, to let the girl walk home alone after midnight in view of the previous two killings.’

Fidelma gazed thoughtfully at Accobrán.

‘A logical observation,’ she replied, before turning to Becc. ‘Why was she allowed to walk home alone? In fact, why was she here so late on that night?’

Becc pursed his lips defensively. ‘I was entertaining guests that night. The services of Sirin and Ballgel were essential and they were needed until late. It was not unusual and nothing had ever happened before. I was concerned with my guests and had no knowledge of the time when the girl left…’ He paused and added, almost with a tone of affronted dignity, ‘I am the chieftain of the Cinél na Áeda.’

Fidelma smiled softly. ‘I was not suggesting that you were personally in charge of the arrangements for those who serve in your fortress, Becc. However, it might help if you send for your steward, who would know the arrangements.’ She paused and then added, ‘Is Sirin within the fortress at present?’

Accobrán uttered an affirmative.

‘Then ask him to come here.’

After Accobrán rose and left to carry out the task, Fidelma turned again to Becc.

‘I presume that all your guests spent the night at the fortress and that you were up until late into the night?’

‘We were up until dawn’s first glimmering. Oh, with the exception of Abbot Brogán who returned to the abbey early and, indeed, was the first to leave the company.’

‘What time did he leave? Before or after Ballgel?’

Becc shrugged. ‘That I cannot say. You will have to ask my steward. It was only the next morning that Adag told me that Ballgel had left soon after midnight. I did not observe the time when the abbot left. Perhaps Adag could tell you.’

‘Apart from the abbot, who were the other guests?’

‘Local neighbouring chiefs. There were three. They slept well and were not disturbed, even though Adag my steward had to rouse me early. That was when the people, having found Ballgel’s body, were marching on the abbey. As I have told you.’

Fidelma was frowning. ‘It occurs to me that Accobrán is younger and stronger than you, Becc. Why didn’t he go to deal with this disturbance instead of you?’

‘He was not here,’ Becc explained.

‘Oh? He did not attend this meal?’

‘He was not at the fortress that night.’

Accobrán re-entered at that moment and announced that Adag and Sirin would join them shortly.

‘I am told that you were not in the fortress on the night of Ballgel’s death,’ Fidelma said, turning to him.

The tanist nodded as he resumed his seat. ‘I had duties that took me to the border of our territory on the River Comar. Some cattle had been stolen and I went to sort the matter out. I returned the following day, some time about mid-morning, just before Becc departed for Cashel.’

‘The Comar is a confluence to the west of our territory,’ explained Becc. ‘It forms our western boundary.’

‘These duties — did anyone accompany you?’ asked Fidelma.

‘I went alone,’ replied the tanist.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door and the steward, Adag, entered. ‘Did you send for me, lord Becc?’

‘And for Sirin the cook,’ added Fidelma.

Adag glanced towards her and then turned back to Becc.

‘Sirin is waiting outside,’ he replied directly to his chief.

‘Then bring him in,’ instructed Fidelma sharply.

The steward continued to look at Becc who nodded slightly to confirm the order.

Sirin was almost the double of Adag the steward. He was a roundfaced, rotund figure with thinning hair. His features were lugubrious. At first Fidelma thought his mournful, joyless countenance reflected his grief for the death of his niece, but she soon learnt that his melancholy was a permanent expression.

The corpulent man shuffled forward to stand before his chief while Adag stood quietly in the background.

‘Sirin, this is Fidelma of Cashel. She is a dálaigh and has come to inquire into the murders. She has questions to ask of you and you must answer them to the best of your knowledge.’

‘I will do so, lord,’ replied the man in a sonorous tone that matched his plumpness. He turned with a questioning expression to Fidelma.

‘Sirin, let me begin by saying that I am sorry for the tragedy that has befallen your family.’

Sirin inclined his head towards her but said nothing.

‘There are some questions that I need to ask you. Tell me something of your niece and her background.’

Sirin spread his hands in a gesture which seemed to give him the appearance of an almost comic, doleful figure.

‘She was young, seventeen years old. Her parents died from the Yellow Plague two years ago. That terrible scourge almost wiped out our family. My sister and I and poor Ballgel were the only ones who remained alive. Now…now Ballgel is gone.’

‘I understand that she lived with her aunt?’

‘With my sister, Berrach…she did so. She came to work with me here in the kitchens of the fortress two years ago.’

‘She was not married, or betrothed? Did she have a young male friend?’ queried Fidelma.

Sirin shook his head. ‘She used to say that she had never met the right one. It is true that many of the young boys sought her company. But she was not interested.’

‘Any young boys in particular?’

Sirin smiled sadly. ‘She was an attractive girl. I could name most of the lads of Rath Raithlen. There was no one in particular.’ A sudden frown crossed his brow. Fidelma saw it.

‘You have had a thought?’

Sirin shrugged. ‘It was only an incident. Gobnuid, who is one of the smiths working in the fortress — well, it was nothing.’

Fidelma leaned forward encouragingly. ‘Let me be the judge.’