Whispers of the Dead

his head. The community’s apothecary, Brother Cruinn, had expressed suspicion about the death. Brother Eolang had not been an elderly man. He was in the prime of his life and the bruising seemed to indicate that he had been struck on the forehead and pushed into the lake where he had drowned.

Brother Gormán had been sent for. After some initial inquiries he had placed Abbot Rígán in custody pending a full trial.

For a moment or two Fidelma sat gazing at Brehon Gormán in astonishment.

“My understanding of what I have been told is that Brother Eolang was dead when he was discovered in the lake? Is this not so? But you say he was able to name the abbot as his killer. How was this miracle accomplished?”

“He was certainly dead when his body was found,” agreed the Brehon.

“Then explain this riddle which you have set me.”

“It is quite simple. Brother Eolang told several of his brethren a week ago that he would be murdered on a particular day and that the abbot would be responsible.”

Fidelma found herself in the unusual position of being unable to comment for a moment or so. Then she shook her head in bewilderment, trying to control the growing sarcasm in her tone.

“This is the evidence? He predicted he would be murdered by the abbot?”

Brehon Gormán smiled again, even more coldly.

“Brother Eolang also foretold the exact manner of his death,” he added.

“I think you need to explain more precisely, Brehon Gormán,” Fidelma said. “Was Brother Eolang a prophet?”

“It would appear so, for we have the accusation and prediction written in Brother Eolang’s own hand.”

Sister Fidelma sat back and folded her hands in her lap.

“I am listening attentively to your explanation,” she said quietly.

“Please tell me the facts so that I do not make any assumptions.”

“There was no love lost between Abbot Rígán and Brother Eolang,” replied the Brehon. “There are witnesses to several arguments between them. They arose because the abbot did not agree with some of Brother Eolang’s beliefs and activities. . ”

Fidelma frowned, still feeling lost.

“Activities? What activities?”

“Brother Eolang was the assistant to the apothecary of the abbey and an adept at making speculations from the patterns of the stars.”

“Medicine and astrology were often twins in the practice of the physician’s art,” conceded Fidelma. “Its use is widespread throughout the five kingdoms of Éireann. Why was the abbot so condemning of the practice?”

Fidelma herself had studied the art of star charts and their interpretation under Brother Conchobar of Cashel, who had once told her that she would have made an excellent interpreter of the portents. However, Fidelma placed no great reliance on astrologers, for it was a science which seemed to rely solely on the interpretive ability of the individual. However, she did accept that much might be learnt from the wisest among them. The study of the heavens, nemgnacht, was an ancient art among the people of Éireann, and most who could afford to do so had a chart cast for the moment of their children’s birth which was called nemindithib, a horoscope.

The more ancient forms of astrology used by the Druids before the coming of Christianity had fallen out of use because the New Faith had also brought in new forms which were practiced among the Greeks and Romans and originated in Babylon.

“The abbot did not approve of astrology, Sister,” interrupted the steward of the community, Brother Cass, who had been standing quietly by during the initial exchange. “The abbot disliked Brother Eolang on account of his practice of astrology. The abbot had read a passage in one of the Scriptures which denounced astrology and so he took his teaching from it. He tried to forbid its practice within our community.”

Fidelma smiled softly.

“Forbidding anything is a sure way of encouraging it. I thought we were more tolerant in such matters? The art of the réaltóir, the astrologer, has been one that has its origins from the very time our ancestors first raised their eyes to the night sky. It is part of our way of life and even those who have accepted the New Faith have not rejected the fact that God put the stars in the sky for the obedience of fools and the guidance of the wise.”

There was a silence, then Brother Cass spoke again.

“Yet there was an animosity between Eolang and the abbot over this matter.”

“Over a week ago,” commenced the Brehon, “according to certain members of the community, and as they will testify, Brother Eolang became so worried about the animosity that he cast a chart, what is a called a horary chart, to see if he was in any danger from the abbot. He did this because the abbot’s language had grown quite violent in the denunciation of Brother Eolang’s beliefs.”

Fidelma did not make any comment but waited for the Brehon to continue.

“Eolang told certain of his comrades among the brethren that within a week from the time he had cast that chart, he would be dead. The chart, he said, showed that he was powerless against the abbot and would suffer death at his hands either by drowning or poisoning.”

Brehon Gormán sat back with a smile of triumph.

Fidelma regarded him with some skepticism.

“You appear to believe this.”

“I have seen the chart. I am an amateur in such things but my knowledge is such that the accuracy of the prediction becomes obvious. I shall accept it into evidence along with the testimony of those of the brethren with whom Brother Eolang discussed the meaning of it before his death.”

Fidelma considered the matter silently for a moment. Then she turned to Brother Cass.

“Do you have someone available who could take a message to Cashel for me?”

Brother Cass glanced at the Brehon, who frowned.

“What do you propose, Sister Fidelma?”

“Why, since this chart is apparently central to the abbot’s supposed guilt, I would send to Cashel for an expert witness to verify its interpretation.”

“What expert witness?”

“Doubtless, as someone who has dabbled in the art, you have heard of Brother Conchobar, the astrologer of Cashel? He was taught by the famous Mo Chuaróc mac Neth Sémon, the greatest astrologer that Cashel ever produced.”

The Brehon’s frown deepened.

“I have heard of Conchobar, of course. But do we need worry him when everything is so clear?”

“Oh, for the sake of justice,” smiled Fidelma, without humor, “we need to ensure that the abbot has the best defense and that implies someone who is an expert in the evidence against him. You have admitted to having only an amateur’s knowledge. I also have but a passing knowledge so it is best to consult a real expert.”

The Brehon examined her features carefully. A suspicion crossed his mind as to whether she was being facetious. Then he glanced to Brother Cass and inclined his head in approval.

“You may send for Brother Conchobar.”

Sister Fidelma smiled briefly in acknowledgment.

“And if we are to take this star chart seriously as evidence,” she went on as Brother Cass departed on his mission, “then I shall want to have proof that it was drawn up by Eolang at the time it is claimed. I shall want to examine those brethren with whom he discussed it and its conclusions. And, having some slight knowledge of the art, I shall want to see it for myself.”

Brehon Gormán raised an eyebrow.

“It sounds as if you do not trust my judgment?” There was a dangerous quality to his voice.

“You are the Brehon,” Fidelma replied softly.

“When you sit in your court and pronounce your judgment, having heard all the evidence and the plea from myself, as a dálaigh defending my client, then your judgment demands and receives respect. Until that time, I shall presume that you have not made any judgment, for if you had that would