‘Was it Brother Cu Mara?’
To Fidelma’s surprise the girl shook her head. ‘The only person that I ever told was Cinaed.’
Fidelma was silent and then she said slowly, ‘You told the Venerable Cinaed?’
‘I did.’
‘In what context did this arise? When did you tell him?’
The girl spoke nervously.
‘I have told you about my relationship with Cinaed. We were talking about the changing situation in the lands of the Ui Fidgente and he was speaking of the stories that were being spread about Uaman. It was said that Uaman, in spite of his blemish in that he was a leper, was plotting to return the Ui Choirpre Aedba to the throne of the Ui Fidgente. The Ui Choirpre are-’
Fidelma raised her hand.
‘I know all about the two divisions of your chiefs,’ she said.
‘Very well. There were stories that Uaman was amassing wealth on the borders of the lands of the Corco Duibhne so that he could buy an army to lead the assault on Caola’s fortress which is Donennach’s capital.’
‘But how did your father’s name come into this?’
‘Cinaed told me that he was just completing a book — this was just
‘What was his reaction?’
‘I told you that Cinaed and I felt for each other. He told me to put Olcan out of my mind. I did so until…’ She paused.
‘Until?’ pressed Fidelma quickly.
‘It was a few weeks before Cinaed’s murder. There had been some travellers from the Corco Duibhne and they were talking of the rumours that Uaman the Leper had perished. Cinaed was preoccupied with the news and kept asking me if I had heard any recent rumours about my father. I told him that I had heard nothing.’
‘Did he say anything further?’
‘He seemed fascinated by the stories that had spread about Uaman’s death and then stories of Uaman being alive again. He kept muttering something about “the old story might be true”.’
‘The old story might be true?’ Fidelma repeated. ‘Do you know what he meant by that?’
The girl shook her head. ‘I asked him and he simply smiled and said he had to look up something about trees in the library.’
‘Something about trees?’
‘Then he told me that Abbess Faife was taking her band of pilgrims to Breanainn’s mount soon and they would be passing Uaman’s Island. He wanted me to go with them to see if I could identify Olcan if he dwelt there. Faife refused to take me. Although a friend of Cinaed, she did not believe my… my relationship with him was right. That was the last time my father was mentioned by Cinaed. Then I saw Olcan coming into the abbey as a prisoner. It is true, as you say, that I recognised him and fainted.’
‘This book that you said Cinaed had prepared…?’
‘I think he had finished it and it was given to young Brother Faolchair to copy. I suppose…’ She paused and her mouth formed an ‘o’. Then she said: ‘Was it one of those that were destroyed in the library?’
‘It might well have been,’ countered Fidelma evasively. ‘Can you recall what it was called?’
She shook her head. ‘Only that it had a Latin title.’
‘Scripta quae ad rempublicum…?’ began Fidelma.
‘I would not recognise the title,’ replied Sister Sinnchene firmly. ‘All I know is it was something about gemstones.’
Fidelma smiled quickly. She had only been seeking confirmation of the title she had suspected it would be.
‘De ars sordida gemmae,’ she said softly.
‘I told you that I would not recognise the title,’ protested the girl.
‘No matter,’ Fidelma said. Absently she began to move away. Then she turned abruptly back to the girl.
‘Did you kill your father last night?’
It was a brutal way to get to the truth but it produced an immediate result. The look on Sister Sinnchene’s face told her that the news came as a shock. Fidelma found herself watching curiously as the emotions played across the girl’s face and finally resolved themselves into a grim mask.
‘Are you saying that he is dead?’ she asked coldly.
‘This morning Olcan was found in his cell. He was dead.’
The girl’s face was now without animation.
‘He killed himself? Perhaps he felt that he had to do so rather than face the disgrace of being a prisoner of the Eoghanacht.’
She now spoke quietly, almost in a matter-of-fact way.
Fidelma reached out a hand and touched the girl’s shoulder and shook her head.
‘I said that he was murdered.’
The girl’s expression still did not change but Fidelma felt her muscles harden under her hand.
‘That’s impossible.’
‘I am afraid it is not only possible, Sinnchene, but it is a fact. That is why I cannot promise you that I can keep your secret now. I will keep it if possible but it may be that it will come out as a means of tracking down the person or persons responsible.’
Sister Sinnchene still stood immobile.
Fidelma hesitated.
‘Do you want me to send for anyone to help you?’ she asked.
Sister Sinnchene sighed and stirred. Her eyes were fathomless.
‘Help me? I need no one’s help. The time I needed help was when I was a young child and needed a father’s support, a father’s help. In reality, my father has been dead these last ten years if only in my mind… now he is dead in reality.’
She spoke without feeling.
Yet Fidelma felt a passing sorrow for the poor, lonely young girl whose father had deserted her and who was still hurting in spite of her outward coldness.
Outside, crossing the frosty courtyard, she saw Eadulf. She left Sister Sinnchene and went quickly to tell him the news. Eadulf was shocked.
‘Does that mean Esumaro and the six religieuse are in danger also?’
‘I think not,’ Fidelma replied. ‘Our killer was only afraid of the one person who could probably identify him. I think the others are safe.’
‘Are you talking of this master?’
She nodded.
‘The one thing I cannot understand about Sinnchene’s story is why trees made the Venerable Cinaed so excited.’ She reflected. ‘Something to do with the sacred tree of the clans? Sinnchene said that he muttered “the old story might be true” and then hurried to the library to consult a book on trees. What old story? What trees?’
‘The trouble is,’ complained Eadulf, ‘when you speak of trees in your language, it can mean so many things. Why, even the mast of a ship is called by the same word. Cinaed might have been speaking of ships or even a family tree…’
Fidelma gave a little shout of laughter.
‘Eadulf, what would I do without you? Sometimes one cannot see the wood for the trees!’
Eadulf looked bewildered, knowing that she had made a clever joke but unable to see the meaning of it.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Family tree! That is what the Venerable Cinaed was after. Exactly that.’
‘But whose family tree?’
Fidelma was smiling happily now and was turning towards the library.
‘Uaman’s family, of course. The family tree of the Ui Fidgente rulers. The very book that Conri asked Brother Eolas for last night.’
