death in the oratory here. That could only be a result of malice. There seems no connection.’
‘I will make some inquiries all the same,’ Fidelma said firmly.
The old abbot gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment, realising that behind her quiet tone was a strong will. He shrugged as if he were no longer interested in what she did.
‘What do you wish to know?’
‘Let us begin with the finding of Cinaed’s body. I understand it was you who discovered it? And this was three days ago?’
‘I did. I went to the oratory to prepare for the annual ceremony to commemorate the feast day of te, who taught our beloved Brennain. Usually it was the Venerable Cinaed and myself who prepared the chapel for the ceremony. The place was in darkness and, at first, I did not think he was there. Then I found his body, behind the altar, with his skull smashed in.’
‘Show me where the wound was,’ said Fidelma.
The old abbot touched the back of his skull.
‘The corpse was lying face down…?’
Abbot Erc shook his head. ‘It was not. He lay upon his back.’
Fidelma pursed her lips but said nothing.
‘Was there any sign of a weapon?’ asked Eadulf.
‘None that we found.’
‘Yet it must have been a heavy weapon to deliver such a blow,’ Eadulf
Fidelma cast an appreciative glance at Eadulf and turned to the abbot.
‘Was anyone seen with blood on his or her clothing? Was a search made for any such clothing?’
It was clear that such a thought had not occurred to him. He glanced at his steward.
‘Well?’ he asked. ‘Was such a search made?’
The young steward spread his hands in a helpless gesture.
‘I will do so now,’ he said defensively.
Fidelma grimaced disapprovingly. ‘A little late, perhaps. But it will do no harm. I presume that there is a communal laundry for the brethren?’
‘There is, indeed, a tech-nigid, a washhouse,’ confirmed the steward.
‘And when is the washing done?’
‘Every week on Cet-ain, the day of the first fast.’
Eadulf’s face brightened. ‘That is tomorrow. So the laundry has not been done since the murder?’
‘I suppose not,’ replied Brother Cu Mara.
‘Who is in charge of the tech-nigid? ’ asked Fidelma.
It was Abbot Erc who responded.
‘At the moment it is Sister Sinnchene. Each month the task of being in charge of the washing is changed. It is Sinnchene’s turn this month.’
‘Sinnchene the young sister who looks after the hospitium?’ Fidelma turned to the steward, who nodded confirmation. ‘Ensure that nothing is touched. Nothing is to be washed until all the clothes are examined, which we will do tomorrow morning.’ She glanced at Eadulf. ‘I am afraid that will be your task while I am questioning the merchant Mugron. Conri’s two warriors will doubtless help you.’
Eadulf accepted the task without enthusiasm.
Fidelma turned back to Abbot Erc.
‘So much for the manner of his death. What of the manner of his life? His work was well known. Had he enemies who would want to take such extreme vengeance on him?’
Abbot Erc appeared shocked at the suggestion.
‘The Venerable Cinaed led a blameless life. Everyone loved him. He had no enemies.’
Fidelma smiled sceptically. ‘One thing I have learnt is that you do not
Abbot Erc was indignant. ‘The Venerable Cinaed was a great scholar.’
‘The greater the scholar, the more people grow envious,’ pointed out Eadulf.
Abbot Erc made a dismissing gesture with a frail hand.
‘Scholastic debate is encouraged here but that does not mean that those who disputed with the Venerable Cinaed would murder him because they did not like what he said. Even I did not agree with everything he taught.’
Fidelma pursed her lips cynically.
‘I have come across many such cases where a dispute of ideas leads to a clash of personalities and the growth of hate. Who disputed with him? Let us start somewhere in unravelling this mystery.’
Abbot Erc was shaking his head.
‘Surely you know his scholastic reputation, Sister? No one would… I refuse to believe in such a possibility.’
Fidelma spoke with suppressed irritation.
‘I am not asking questions to while away the time,’ she said pointedly. ‘I know very well the reputation of the Venerable Cinaed. I have read his discourse on the Computus Cummianus and De Trinatate Interpretatio Perversa. While the old saying goes that fame is more lasting than life, nevertheless, he is dead. He has been murdered and the culprit must be found to make amends according to our law, of which I am a representative.’
There was a silence. A young Sister of the Faith had not spoken to the old abbot in such a tone before. He flushed in anger.
Brother Cu Mara, the steward, moved forward nervously.
‘The Venerable Cinaed encouraged lively debate and questioning, lady.’ The steward stressed the title in recognition of her secular authority with a glance at the abbot. ‘He liked to be questioned sharply and was just as sharp in his replies.’
Abbot Erc, reminded of Fidelma’s authority, recovered his equilibrium. ‘My rechtaire is correct. Some of our most renowned debates have seen many scholars gather here; scholars from many colleges in the land — even from the great college of Mungret.’
Fidelma had always wanted to visit Mungret, which lay in the heart of Ui Fidgente territory. It had been founded by Nessan, a disciple of Patrick
The challengers came upon the ‘washerwomen’ at work by the stream. When the challengers found out that the ‘washerwomen’ could speak excellent Latin and Greek and could debate easily with them, they decided they should withdraw. If the washerwomen of Mungret were so learned, what hope had they of debating with the scholars of Mungret?
‘Something amuses you, Sister?’ snapped Abbot Erc.
Fidelma drew herself back to the present.
‘Just a story I had heard,’ she replied.
‘These debates provoked no animosity?’ queried Eadulf.
‘None at all,’ said the abbot. ‘The Venerable Mac Faosma attended many. You may ask him.’
Fidelma raised her head sharply.
‘The Venerable Mac Faosma of Magh Bhile? What do you mean? Does he dwell in this abbey?’
‘Indeed he does. Do you know him?’ replied the abbot in surprise.
‘I know of him. He was spoken of with the same reverence as the Venerable Cinaed. It is astonishing that you have… had,’ she corrected herself, ‘two great philosophers at your abbey.’
The old abbot gestured as if dismissing the point.
‘Ard Fhearta is the home of many good scholars,’ he said shortly.
‘Of course,’ Fidelma replied with a smile. ‘But what is a man of Ulaidh doing here in the country of the Ui Fidgente?’
Once more, to cover the old abbot’s ill composure, it was Brother Cu Mara who answered her.
‘The Venerable Mac Faosma came here three years ago. This was the country in which he had been born. He trained here and then the peregrinatio pro Christo took him to study at Finnian’s great school at Magh
‘So he is not teaching here?’
‘Indeed, he does so now and then. As the abbot says, he took part and even presided in many of our scholastic debates.’
