I will do my best to answer your questions.’
‘Thank you, Sister Buan,’ said Fidelma as they seated themselves in the cold chamber. The turf fire had been allowed to blacken and die. ‘We have been told that you were the companion of the Venerable Cinaed?’
‘I was his cetmuintir,’ she replied.
Fidelma glanced quickly at Eadulf.
‘You were his legally married wife?’ he asked in surprise.
Sister Buan raised her chin defiantly.
‘Does that astonish you?’ she demanded. ‘I would not take you for one
‘Of course not,’ Eadulf responded. ‘It’s just that-’
‘Then you must disapprove because Cinaed was a generation or so older than I was.’ The woman made it into a challenge.
‘I was going to say, it is just that no one mentioned your exact legal position,’ Eadulf continued evenly.
‘We are certainly not here to pass any moral judgements, Sister Buan,’ Fidelma added.
‘Buan — that is a martial name, is it not?’ Eadulf went on, trying to persuade the woman of his good intentions. ‘Doesn’t it mean “the victorious one”?’
‘No, Brother Saxon. It is a name which means “lasting” or, rather, “enduring”.’ She became suddenly sad again.
‘How long were you the wife of Cinaed?’ Fidelma asked.
‘Five years.’
Fidelma was wondering why no one at the abbey had bothered to tell her that Cinaed had died leaving a widow.
‘I presume there are no children of this union?’ Eadulf asked.
Sister Buan turned an almost pitying look on him.
‘We have not been blessed with children. Poor Cinaed was not capable of becoming a father when we joined our lives together. It was for companionship that we made the lanamnus, our marriage contract. Even if it were possible, children are frowned on among the community.’
‘How long had you known Cinaed?’
‘Seven years. Cinaed was here when I came to the community, but I did not really know him until I came to work for him.’
‘And you have been in this community for — how long?’
‘I was in this abbey for over twenty years.’
‘What brought you together?’
The slightly built woman shrugged.
‘He wanted someone to keep his chambers tidy. He was given special privileges because of his scholarship. He did not have to participate in physical work because of his age and learning and so he was allowed someone to assist him. He was one of only two scholars here who had that privilege.’
Eadulf grimaced sourly.
‘I suppose the other was the Venerable Mac Faosma?’
‘Just so. And he has Brother Benen to help him.’
There was a tone of censure in the woman’s voice. Fidelma looked at her keenly.
‘You disapprove of that?’
‘What a man does in his private life is no concern of mine,’ she replied, as if uninterested.
Once again Fidelma caught Eadulf’s eye and this time shook her head slightly. It was obvious what the woman meant.
‘So you began to clean for Cinaed and that led to your relationship?’
‘I did and it did.’
‘And you became interested in his work?’ Eadulf asked.
For the first time the woman actually smiled.
‘His work? I had no understanding of it. I am no scholar.’ She held out her hands. ‘These are not the hands of a Latin scholar, Brother Saxon.’
Eadulf glanced at them. They were rough and calloused.
‘What would a scholar want with someone like me?’ There was no bitterness in her voice. Neither of them responded to her question. She went on: ‘Human beings want companionship at times and not simply for intellectual discourse. In Cinaed’s case he wanted someone to nurse him and fetch and carry for him.’
Eadulf looked uncomfortable but she went on without seeming to notice.
‘I knew there was no meeting of minds with Cinaed but he was a wonderful man. I came here to escape poverty.’ Sister Buan sounded slightly bitter. ‘I was disowned by my father after he divorced my mother, who was his second wife.’
Fidelma was interested.
‘For what reason did he divorce her?’
‘Because she fled her marriage contract on becoming enamoured of a young man, so I was told. From fear of my father, she became a fugitive in the mountains. I was told that she perished there.’
‘So she did not take you with her into the mountains?’
Sister Buan shook her head.
‘I was sent to be fostered among the Corco Duibhne, by their chief, and told never to return to my father’s rath again nor seek help from my half-brothers. Nor did I. Thus when I left my foster parents, I decided to seek security in the religious life. Eventually, I came to the abbey and for two years I did all the chores that no one else wanted to do. Then the abbot found I had a talent for bargaining with merchants. So he allowed
‘So I also went to work for Cinaed. I enjoyed working for him, nursing him in sickness, helping him in health, and when he offered to legalise our relationship I could ask for no greater happiness.’
‘You knew that he was regarded as a great scholar?’ Fidelma asked.
‘I knew that he regarded himself as a tired and frail old man who sometimes needed his chest rubbed with oils to keep out the cold vapours of the night.’
‘But you know how highly his work was thought of?’ pressed Fidelma.
‘I know some in this abbey did not think so highly of it,’ she corrected.
‘You mean the Venerable Mac Faosma?’
‘And his followers.’
‘You felt their antagonism?’
‘Isn’t there an old saying — three things that come unbidden — love, jealousy and fear? All three have visited these chambers.’
‘Fear?’
‘The day before he died, poor Cinaed expressed his fear to me.’ Fidelma’s eyes widened.
‘He was fearful? Fearful of whom?’
Sister Buan sighed and shook her head.
‘That, alas, I do not know for sure.’
‘Can you recall what he said? How did he express this fear?’
Sister Buan spread her hands in a negative gesture.
‘He came back here in a state of anxiety after the evening meal in the refectory… It was one of the special feasts that he was obliged to attend. More often he would eat simply in these chambers with me, having dispensation to do so because of his age.’
‘But you imply that you did not attend that particular evening meal? Why?’
‘I was not well. A stomach sickness.’
‘I see. Go on.’
‘I remember that I went to get water for myself and passed that window…’ She pointed across the room to where a window opened on to a small quadrangle. Fidelma suddenly realised it was the same quadrangle that gave access to the Venerable Mac Faosma’s chambers through the door into his study. She rose quickly.
‘Your pardon, Sister Buan. Which is the door to the Venerable Mac Faosma’s chambers?’
‘It is that door directly across the quadrangle from us.’
‘Thank you. Continue. You passed by this window and…?’
