‘It was dark, of course, but the quadrangle is lit with torches at night. I saw Cinaed enter the quadrangle from the archway entrance to the right… that leads to the refectory. He was walking slowly with someone and engaged in animated conversation.’ ‘Did you recognise who it was?’ queried Eadulf.
‘Sister Uallann.’
‘The physician?’
‘The same,’ she confirmed. ‘They appeared to be arguing but in low tones and Sister Uallann was throwing her hands in the air as if to make her points. She can be very dramatic at times. A strange woman, given to outbursts of temper. It seemed to me that Cinaed broke off the conversation for he turned and came to our door.’
‘What did he say?’ demanded Fidelma.
Sister Buan shrugged.
‘Nothing.’
Fidelma looked taken aback for a moment.
‘Nothing? You had just seen him in argument. You said he came back here fearful… of what? Of whom? Sister Uallann?’
‘I saw he was agitated. Naturally, I asked him what was amiss and told him what I had seen outside. He said that it was just a silly quarrel, that was all. Something about his work. But I knew Cinaed. Behind his light dismissal of the event, I knew that he was afraid.’
‘How was that fear expressed?’
Sister Buan shrugged again.
‘It is hard to explain. I grew up on the western peninsula. I was fostered by a chieftain there who believed that his fosterlings should learn animal husbandry. I came to know when the animals were fretting. Sheep would know when a wolf was near and you did not have to ask for an explanation. You could see it in their bodies, the movement of their heads. It is the same if you know someone intimately. You become used to their habits, their ways. It was like that with Cinaed. He did not have to say when he was thirsty or when he was tired. I knew. I knew from the way he behaved that evening that there was something on his mind and he was fearful of it.’
‘Did you ask him to tell you what was wrong?’
‘I did. He told me not to worry. He said, and these were his very words, that he would sort things out the next day. He would be going to see the abbot and resolve matters.’
Fidelma and Eadulf sat back for a moment.
‘Resolve matters? With the abbot? That is an interesting choice of words. And he made no further explanation?’
‘None. He said that he would see the abbot after the service — the service for the feast day of the Blessed Ite. He and the abbot usually went to the oratory to prepare it for the service together. I remember hearing him leave and thinking it was very early for him to do so. It was still very dark. I am not sure when it was but I thought it was not long after midnight. All I recall is that it was light when Brother Cu Mara came to me with the news that… that…’
Her features began to crumple and Fidelma reached forward to lay a hand on her arm.
‘And you know nothing more of the matter that he had promised to resolve with Abbot Erc?’ pressed Eadulf gently.
She shook her head, recovering her poise.
‘Have you told anyone else about this?’
‘I told the abbot, of course.’
‘You did? And what did he say?’
‘He said that he had no idea of any matter that needed resolution. He said that Cinaed was probably worried about some detail of his work. Oh, and, of course, I handed a piece of paper I found in the hearth to the abbot. It was not there when I went to bed but I saw it there the next day. Obviously, Cinaed must have burnt it during the night.’
Fidelma drew the paper carefully from her marsupium.
‘And this was the paper?’
Sister Buan looked at it with some surprise and then nodded.
‘The abbot passed it to me,’ explained Fidelma. ‘And what do you make of it?’
‘I think it is the note that enticed poor Cinaed to the chapel that night. See, the words are clear: “midnight” and “Orat…” burnt away could mean “oratory”, and “alone” could be an invitation to go there alone. The next word is part of a name — “Sin”.’
Fidelma pursed her lips thoughtfully as she studied the woman’s face.
‘You appear to have an astute eye, Sister Buan.’
‘It is that I am suspicious. Cinaed loved his work and even when that arrogant man Mac Faosma challenged him to public debate, he was not disturbed by it. He was not concerned by the views of others because he had the strength of his convictions. But he was disturbed that night. I do not think it was a matter of a problem with his work. I believe that he was enticed to the oratory by his killer.’
Eadulf examined her keenly.
‘You talk of the debates. Did you attend Cinaed’s debates and could you understand the arguments? Could you understand them enough to realise whether Cinaed’s views were right or that Mac Faosma was simply arrogant?’
Sister Buan shook her head.
‘Of course I did not. I have told you, I could not understand any of the arguments,’ she said in reproof. ‘But I do understand when a man is arrogant in his behaviour. Cinaed treated Mac Faosma with humour. The worst I have ever heard him say of him is that he was trying to be a “master of souls”. That is a derogatory term among our people.’
‘And you say that Cinaed did not mind Mac Faosma’s criticisms?’
‘Whenever Cinaed returned from those debates he was in a good humour,’ replied Sister Buan. ‘They did not worry him — Mac Faosma’s sneering comments and the baying of his students. Truly, I have never seen Cinaed worried until that night, the night before…’
She paused, hesitated a moment and gave way to a quiet sob.
‘Did you ask Sister Uallann what the argument was about?’ asked Fidelma softly.
Sister Buan recovered herself with a sniff.
‘She thinks it beneath her dignity to speak to me as an equal. She is like Mac Faosma in her arrogance.’
‘But you did ask her?’ pressed Eadulf.
‘Of course I asked, but she told me it was on a matter I would not understand and brushed me aside.’
‘So, apart from the abbot and Sister Uallann, we are the only people you have told about this argument?’ Fidelma asked.
‘That is so. I knew someone was coming to investigate the death of Abbess Faife and would naturally seek to understand the events behind Cinaed’s murder. So I have said nothing about this to anyone else.’
Fidelma exchanged a glance with Eadulf.
‘You assumed whoever came here would investigate Cinaed’s death as
Sister Buan suddenly glanced about in an almost conspiratorial manner.
‘I believe so. I overheard something someone said.’
‘What did they say and who was it that said it?’ demanded Fidelma curiously.
Sister Buan looked about her again as if deciding whether some unseen eavesdropper could overhear her.
‘It was the rechtaire.’
Fidelma frowned. ‘Brother Cu Mara?’
She nodded quickly.
‘And what did he say and in what circumstances?’
Sister Buan licked her lips.
‘I was taking the washing to the tech-nigid. It was the day after the burial of Cinaed. I had cleared out his clothes. Those that needed washing I took there so that they could be distributed later to the needy. Brother Cu
