The Leper's bell

his abduction. Rumours circulated that it was a plot of the Uí Fidgente. This was not so. You all know Brother Eadulf, my dear companion and father of my child. He will now tell you the first part of the story, to demonstrate that our child was not abducted, but taken by accident. He will, I know, be modest, but he put his own life at risk in following our child to the Tower of Uaman and bringing him safely back to Cashel. Should proof of his adventures be demanded, witnesses sit in this very hall to confirm the facts.’

She turned to Eadulf who rose with some embarrassment and swiftly explained how he had discovered Alchú and brought the child back to Cashel. Fidelma smiled faintly in satisfaction as murmurs of approval echoed round the hall. When he reseated himself, she rose again.

‘Should any point of the story be challenged, we have gathered witnesses to confirm it,’ she said to Brehon Baithen. ‘Gormán sits there, as does Brother Basil Nestorios, who needs must give his statements in Latin; also the itinerant herbalist Corb and his wife, and the shepherd Nessán and his wife. All will confirm Eadulf’s tale.’

Brehon Baithen asked if anyone would challenge the story but no one did, and so the judge urged Fidelma to continue.

‘Now, those among you who have followed the proceedings may realise that this leaves a mystery. If Alchú was not abducted, if his intended abduction was not the cause of Sárait’s being enticed out of the palace, then she was the victim. It was her death that was the object of the plot. Why and who plotted it, those are the questions we must answer today.’

She paused, sweeping her gaze across the expectant faces before her.

‘It will be simplest if I take everyone through a sad story from the beginning. There were two sisters. I shall name them — Gobnat and Sárait. Sárait was the younger of the two. Both had married warriors of the élite bodyguard of the kings of Cashel. As you will know, one married Capa, our current commander of the guard who stands there. One married Callada who was killed at Cnoc Áine. Someone looked upon Sárait’s marriage to Callada with jealousy for they were filled with lust for her. She rejected his advances, for she was happy with Callada.’

Gormán groaned in his seat and hunched forward. Delia reached to lay her hand on his.

‘I loved her,’ the young warrior muttered, his voice audible to the hall.

Fidelma glanced at him without expression. ‘As you made clear to me when we first met, and later repeated to Eadulf.’ She paused, and then went on addressing the hall. ‘The warrior who lusted after Sárait began to hate Callada to the extent that his hatred knew no bounds. Then came the day when in the heat of the battle of Cnoc Áine he found and took the opportunity to kill his rival. Rumours went round, as rumours do. Rumours that Callada had been slain by one of his own side. I do not have to bring forward such famous warriors as Cathalán to attest to the story, nor Capa, who was commanding the troop in which Callada served that day. Gormán, too, was in that troop. So was Caol. Many among you were at Cnoc Áine, like Ferloga there, and Conchoille. No one will deny the rumours …’ she paused, ‘and they were true.’

There was a silence as people digested her words.

‘Some time later,’ she went on, ‘the killer of Callada began to pay attention to Sárait once more. Sárait had begun to suspect and distrust the man. She had turned for solace to another and that infuriated the killer almost to the point of madness.

‘Time went by until the killer could no longer hold his passion in check and he raped Sárait. I think it was then that he probably boasted of what he had done for lust of her — he would, of course, claim it was for love of her, but I would say for lust. Sárait was disgusted. The word is too mild to convey the revulsion she felt. She was revolted when she found she was carrying the result of that rape — a child. She went to Delia, for Delia is known to be wise in these matters. She told Delia what had happened but withheld the name of the man who had done the deed.

‘Further, she told Delia that she did not wish to bear a child conceived in rape and lust. She tried many things but the child was born, although no doubt in answer to her prayers and efforts that poor life was snuffed out at birth. When Sárait came to the palace in search of work, I employed her as wet nurse to my son Alchú. Here I must admit an error… I thoughtlessly assumed the child she had been carrying was Callada her husband’s.

‘It was Eadulf who first pointed out to me the fact that the time between Callada’s death at Cnoc Áine and the baby’s birth did not add up. She had conceived several months after her husband’s death. It was then that I began to realise the extent of the problem we faced.’ She looked without emotion at Delia. ‘Sárait was not Delia’s only confidant. Gormán also made a confession to her — that he was in love with Sárait.’

Delia was pale and swayed a little in her seat, still clutching on to Gormán’s hand.

‘I saw Gormán leave her house one night, saw him embrace her intimately. Do not actions speak just as clearly as words?’

Delia drew herself together. ‘Gormán did not kill Sárait. He was in love with her and she told me that she responded to his kindness. He was not the one who raped her.’

Gobnat was glaring with hatred at Delia.

‘The whore should not be present!’ she shouted. ‘Disgusting! She is twice the age Gormán is. I wager she put him up to killing my sister.’

Fidelma ignored her.

‘Indeed, a plot was evolved to kill Sárait. Not a simple plot, because the person who wished to kill her also wished to do it in such a way that they would not be suspected. The motive for the murder lay in hatred of Sárait because she was unwittingly the object of the warrior’s lust and the murderer’s jealousy.’ She glanced quickly at Delia. ‘A woman was behind this plot.’

Delia stared back, pale to the lips. Gormán groaned again. There was a deathly silence in the hall.

‘The idea was to draw Sárait out of the palace one night and kill her. But how to do it without drawing attention to the killer? The woman who concocted this plot placed herself in the shadows near the inn so that she would not be identified. She asked a child to go to the palace with a message saying that Sárait’s sister wanted to see her urgently. Only such a message would draw Sárait from the comfort of the palace at night. But the child could not take the message because his father left the inn at that very moment and, having over-indulged in corma, needed the child’s help to guide him home. Oh yes,’ Fidelma smiled quickly at the assembly, ‘I met and had a word with that child.’

She paused for a moment, but no sound was heard in the great hall.

‘Now the woman had a piece of luck,’ Fidelma continued. ‘A traveller came to the inn. He was a travelling player — a crossan — wanting to check out the aspect of the township for his company. He was a dwarf whose name was Forindain. The woman offered him a screpall to take the message to the palace. Forindain was nothing loath to do it. But the woman knew the guards at the palace well and was aware they might ask questions. So she told the dwarf to act as if he were mute. She took from her marsupium a piece of birch bark on which she had already written the words “I am sent to see Sárait”. Therefore he would be asked no questions. This action, however, caused some light to be shed on the woman and while her hood hid her features Forindain saw that she was wearing a very distinctive cloak. He described it to me.’

Caol suddenly raised his voice.

‘That is not so, Fidelma,’ he protested. ‘The dwarf was killed at Cnoc Loinge before anyone could question him. You cannot put words into the mouth of the dead.’

Fidelma paused to let the murmurs die down.

‘The poor dwarf who was killed at Cnoc Loinge was Forindain’s brother, Iubdán, who just happened to be wearing Forindain’s costume. He was mistaken for his brother and thereby lost his life.’

Capa was frowning, and glanced to the dwarf sitting nearby.

‘Are you saying that this…?’ he began.

‘There sits the real Forindain,’ Fidelma pointed to where the small crossan sat, ‘who was in Cashel that evening, and who took the message to Sárait. He is the one who described the distinctive cloak to me. It was a description I immediately recognised, having seen the cloak worn by someone I knew. However, it was obvious that Iubdán had been killed in mistake for Forindain in order to still his tongue as a witness.’