“Could it be that Brother Eolang killed himself to spite me?”
“In my experience, suicides do not hit themselves over the head and drown nor is spite considered a sufficient motive for killing oneself.”
“It sounds as if you believe this prediction and therefore my guilt.”
“My task, Father Abbot, is to investigate the facts and if the facts show you to be guilty, then my oath as a
When the abbot tried to speak again she raised her hand to silence him.
“At the moment, I have no judgment one way or the other. I have a suspicion of what happened but I cannot prove my suspicion before the Brehon. I am not, therefore, in full possession of the facts.”
Twenty-four hours had to pass before Brother Cass announced that his messengers were returning from Cashel.
Sister Fidelma went to the main gate to watch the boat crossing the lake towards the pier. Her sharp eyes immediately spotted the bent figure of the elderly Brother Conchobar in the stern of the boat. Her anxious eyes found a second figure, a young warrior, seated next to him.
“Brother Conchobar, I am glad that you have come,” she greeted as they stepped ashore.
The old man smiled, a slow, sad smile.
“I heard of your curious case from the messenger you sent. This is Ferchar, by the way.”
The young warrior bowed to Fidelma. He did not forget that Fidelma was sister to the King of Cashel.
“Lady, I heard that the man drowned. I am sorrowful that I was not able to do anything more than I did. Alas, it was too far for me to swim across the lake to his rescue.”
Fidelma glanced anxiously from Ferchar to Conchobar as a thought struck her.
“Have either of you discussed this matter with one another on your journey here?”
Brother Conchobar shook his head. It was Ferchar who answered.
“Lady, we know that the method of giving evidence says that no witnesses may confer with another about the event. We have kept our silence on this matter.”
One of the brethren, whom Brother Cass had sent to bring them to the abbey, came forward.
“I can swear to this before the Brehon if need be, Sister. These men have not spoken of the matter since we found them and brought them hither.”
“Excellent,” Fidelma was relieved. “Come with me.”
Fidelma led them to Brother Cass’s chamber where Brehon Gormán was waiting impatiently.
“This judgment on this matter has been delayed a full twenty-four hours. I hope this has not been a waste of time.”
“Justice, as you must know, Brehon Gormán, is never a waste of time. I have asked Brother Conchobar to wait outside while we now hear from an eyewitness.”
She motioned to Ferchar.
Brehon Gormán examined the young warrior.
“State your name and position.”
“I am Ferchar of the bodyguard of King Colgú and act as his messenger.”
“What is your evidence in the matter of the murder of Brother Eolang?”
Ferchar looked puzzled and Fidelma intervened.
“He means the death of Brother Eolang, the brother found by the pier.”
Brehon Gormán scowled in annoyance at her correction.
“That is what I meant,” he said tightly.
“I was riding along the shore on my way to Cashel,” began Ferchar. “Across, on the island, I saw a religieux mooring his boat at the end of one of the side piers of the abbey.”
“I do not think we need bring forward evidence that this was Brother Eolang bringing the boat to the herb garden pier where he was found,” intervened Fidelma.
Brehon Gormán motioned Ferchar to continue with an impatient gesture.
“The religieux had moored the boat and was walking along the pier when it seemed that he stopped abruptly and turned back to the boat. This meant that he was facing toward me. Then, curiously, he started back as if something had stopped him. I heard a crack. He staggered back and fell off the edge of the pier. I started shouting to attract attention. I shouted for some minutes and then I saw another religieux exit from a gate. He heard my voice but I doubt if he heard my words. I gestured to where the religieux had fallen in. He must have seen him for he waved acknowledgment and jumped in and started to haul the body to the shore. Seeing that another religieux had arrived, and that there was nothing else I could do, I continued on my journey, not realizing that in that short time, the first religieux had met his death.”
“Are you sure there was no one else around at the time the religieux fell into the water? The religieux was by himself on the pier?”
“No one else was there,” affirmed Ferchar.
“But you heard a crack?” intervened Brehon Gormán.
“I did. Like a branch breaking.”
“Perhaps someone had cast a spear at him to make him fall back or. . yes, a slingshot perhaps?” suggested the Brehon.
“He was facing towards me on the shore. The distance was too far to cast a slingshot or any other weapon. No, there was no one around when the man fell into the lake.”
“Are you claiming that this was the act of some supernatural force?” demanded the Brehon turning to Fidelma. “What of the prediction? You cannot explain away the accuracy of the prediction.”
Fidelma smiled at Ferchar.
“Wait outside and ask Brother Conchobar to enter.”
A moment later the old man did so and Fidelma asked the Brehon to spread the astrological chart before him.
“Conchobar will you examine this chart and give me your advice?” she invited.
The old man nodded and took the chart from her hands. He spent some time poring over it and then he looked up.
“It is a good chart. A professional one.”
Brehon Gormán smiled approvingly.
“You agree, then, learned Conchobar with the conclusions of Eolang?”
“Most things are correct. .” agreed the old man.
Fidelma could see the Brehon’s smile broaden but Brother Conchobar was continuing.
“. . except one important point. Brother Eolang appears to have predicted that within a week following his drawing and judging his horary question that he would die. It would happen on the day that Mercury and Jupiter perfected conjunction.”
“Exactly. The first day of the month of Aibreán. And that was the very day that he was killed, exactly as he predicted,” the Brehon confirmed. “You cannot deny that.”
The old man tapped on the chart with his finger, shaking his head.
“The error, however, is that he failed to note that Mercury turned direct a few hours later and never perfected the conjunction. Brehon, as you have some knowledge of the art, you should know that we call this phenomenon refranation. Alas, I have seen this carelessness, this overlooking of such an important fact, among many astrologers. To give Brother Eolang his due, perhaps he was too confused and worried to sit and spend time calculating the planetary movements accurately.”
“But he was accurate. He did indeed die on the predicted day. How do you explain it?” protested Brehon Gormán.
“But he was not murdered,” insisted Brother Conchobar. “The chart does not show it.”
“Then how can it be explained?” demanded the Brehon in bewilderment. “How did he die?”
Fidelma intervened with a smile.
“If you come with me, I will show you what happened.”
At the end of the old pier, Fidelma paused.
