Whispers of the Dead

“When Brother Abán came to tell me and asked me if I had heard anything in the night.”

“And you were able to tell him that you had?”

“Of course.”

“But only yesterday morning?”

Glass nodded.

“As a matter of interest, if Ernán was the only survivor of his family, I presume that his farm passes to Blinne?”

“Blinne is his heir in all things,” agreed Glass. His eyes suddenly flickered beyond her shoulder in the direction of what had been Ernán’s farmstead. Fidelma turned and saw a figure that she initially thought was Blinne making her way up the hill. Then she realized it was a young woman who looked fairly similar.

“Bláth?”

Glass nodded.

“Then I shall go down to meet her as I need to ask her some questions.”

Halfway down the path were some large stones which made a natural seat. Fidelma reached them at the same time as Bláth and greeted her.

“I was coming back to my uncle’s mill for Blinne told me that you had gone there in search of me. You are the dálaigh from Cashel, aren’t you?”

“I am. There are a few questions that I must ask. You see, Bláth, I am not satisfied about the circumstances of your brother-in-law’s death.”

Bláth, who was a younger version of the attractive Blinne, pouted.

“There is no satisfaction to be had in any death, but a death that is encompassed by supernatural elements is beyond comprehension.”

“Are you sure we speak of supernatural elements?”

Bláth looked surprised.

“What else?”

“That is what I wish to determine. I am told that you heard the wailing of the Banshee for three nights?”

“That is so.”

“You awoke each night and investigated?”

“Investigated?” the girl laughed sharply.

“I know the old customs and turned over and buried my head under the pillow to escape the wailing sound.”

“It was loud?”

“It was fearful.”

“Yet it did not wake your sister nor her husband?”

“It was supernatural. Perhaps only certain people could hear it. Glass, my uncle, heard it.”

“But only once.”

“Once is enough.”

“Very well. Were your sister and Ernán happy?”

Fidelma saw the shadow pass across Bláth’s face.

“Why, yes.” There was hesitation enough and Fidelma sniffed in annoyance.

“I think that you are not being accurate,” she responded.

“They were unhappy, weren’t they?”

Bláth pressed her lips together and seemed about to deny it. Then she nodded.

“Blinne was trying to make the best of things. She was always like that. I would have divorced Ernán but she was not like that.”

“Everyone says that she and Ernán were much in love and happy.”

“It was the image that they presented to the village,” shrugged the girl. “But what has this to do with the death of Ernán? The Banshee took him.”

Fidelma smiled thinly.

“Do you really believe that?”

“I heard. .”

“Are you trying to protect Blinne?” Fidelma snapped sharply.

Bláth blinked rapidly and flushed.

“Tell me about Tadhg,” Fidelma prompted, again sharply so that the girl would not have time to collect her thoughts.

“You know. .?” Bláth began and then snapped her mouth shut.

“Did this unhappiness begin when Tadhg returned to the village?”

Bláth hung her head.

“I believe that they were meeting regularly in the woods,” she said quietly.

“I think that you believe a little more than that,” Fidelma said dryly.

“You think that Tadhg and Blinne plotted to kill Ernán.”

“No!” Bláth’s face was crimson. “There was no reason. If things became so unbearable, Blinne could have sought a divorce.”

“True enough, but the farmstead was an attractive proposition. If Blinne divorced Ernán, she would lose it.”

Bláth sniffed.

“You know the laws of inheritance as well as I do. Land cannot pass to a female heir if there are male heirs.”

“But in Ernán’s case, he had no male heirs. The land, the farm-stead, would go to the banchomarba, the female heir.”

Bláth suddenly gave a deep sigh of resignation.

“I suspected something like this might happen,” she confessed dolefully.

“And you invented the story of the Banshee to throw people off the scent?” queried Fidelma.

Bláth nodded rapidly.

“I love my sister.”

“Why not claim an attack by a wolf? That would be more feasible.”

“Anyone would realize the wound in Ernán’s throat was not the bite of a wolf. Questions would be asked of Blinne and. .”

“Questions are now being asked.”

“But only by you. Brother Abán was satisfied and people here would not question the old ways.”

“The old ways,” Fidelma echoed the words thoughtfully.

The girl looked nervously at Fidelma.

“I suppose that you intend to have Blinne and Tadhg arrested?”

“Tonight is the funeral of Ernán. We will see after that.”

“There is some doubt about your suspicion of them?”

Fidelma smiled sadly.

“We will see,” she said. “I would like a word alone with your sister.”

Bláth nodded toward the farmstead.

“I forgot something at my uncle’s mill. You’ll find Blinne at the farmhouse.”

The girl left Fidelma and continued up the path to the mill while Fidelma went on to the farmhouse. As she approached she heard Blinne’s voice raised in agitation.

“It’s not true, I tell you. Why do you bother me so?”

Fidelma halted at the corner of a building. In the farmyard she saw Tadhg confronting the girl. Blinne was standing looking distracted.

“The dálaigh already suspects,” Tadhg was saying.

“There is nothing to suspect.”

“It is obvious that Ernán was murdered, killed by a human hand. Obvious that Bláth was covering up with some story about a Banshee. It did not fool me nor will it fool this woman. I know you hated