A Prayer for the Damned

but not the more powerful odour. Sister Sétach was fussing over her companion with some toiletry and looked up in annoyance as Fidelma came in.

‘Are we never to be left alone?’ she snapped.

Sister Marga glanced at her companion in surprise but Fidelma ignored the petulant tone.

‘I am, as I have said, a dálaigh, Sister Sétach,’ she said mildly, ‘and must encroach on you as many times as is necessary for my investigation. However, it is Sister Marga that we have come to see, and I would appreciate it if you could leave us for a minute or two.’

Sister Sétach stood for a few moments, her jaw working slightly, as if she were considering this. Then she looked down at Sister Marga.

‘Do you want me to go?’ she demanded brusquely.

‘I think it is better to do as Sister Fidelma asks,’ Marga replied in an almost apologetic tone.

With a loud sniff of disapproval, Sister Sétach turned and left the room. Sister Marga looked after her with a frown before turning back to Fidelma and Eadulf.

‘She does not sleep well and that makes her irritable. I think she believes it is her duty to protect me,’ she said apologetically. ‘She was at Cill Ria when I joined and considers herself my senior.’

‘Yet it was you, so I understand, who asked her to come on this trip?’

Sister Marga looked startled for a moment. ‘She told you that?’

‘It is not true, then?’

‘Oh, partially true, I suppose. I felt sorry for her, being so upset at not being chosen to accompany this embassy from the Comarb of Patrick. There was space for another one to help keep the records and she kept pressing me about it, so I asked Abbot Ultán if he would consider taking her as well. But Brother Drón, in fact, had already suggested that Seétach should be a member of the embassy and Abbot Ultán had agreed to it even before I asked.’

‘Well, we will return to Sister Sétach in a moment. Let me start with you. You are from Cill Ria, of course. Are you of the Uí Thuirtrí?’

The girl shook her head. ‘I am of the Ciannachta. My clan lands are to the north-west of their country. I went into the religious at Ard Stratha and that is where I learned to write a good hand and to read Latin, Greek and Hebrew. I was good at keeping records and copying texts. I was told that Cill Ria was looking for good scholars and so, a few years ago, I went to the abbey there. At first, the work was good. I was given texts to copy and to compile into books. But we are all allowed to make one mistake in life. The decision to go to Cill Ria was mine,’ she ended ruefully.

‘A mistake?’ queried Fidelma. ‘Did you know how the abbey was run before you went there?’

Sister Marga shook her head.

‘Had you heard about Abbot Ultán?’

She gestured negatively again. ‘I came to hate Cill Ria and the Penitentials. Moreover, I hated Ultán.’

‘If you hated it all so much, why did you not leave?’

Sister Marga simply laughed. There was bitterness in her laugh but she made no reply.

‘Your companion does not share your hate,’ pointed out Fidelma.

‘She is not my companion. She would like to be, if you know what I mean. I feel sorry for her. She is devoted to Cill Ria and appears to believe Abbot Ultán is. . was some kind of saint.’

‘You make it clear that you do not,’ Fidelma observed.

‘I not only believe but know he was not. There were two Ultáns. There was the false image of the pious abbot that he presented to the world. Oh, I know all about his miraculous conversion on the seas and what he was before that. However, I knew the second Ultán, the real Ultán.’

‘You must explain.’

‘Ultán had persuaded the Comarb of Patrick at Ard Macha that he was changed, as Paul had changed on the road to Damascus. . that parable was always being spoken of in Cill Ria. Brother Drón was fond of using it to stifle any questions about the sincerity of the abbot. Ultán enforced his Penitentials with such strictness simply to show how pious he was. That was the face he presented to the world. It was not the face I saw.’

‘Which was?’

‘Which was still the thief, the robber, who seized goods when he could maintain they were offerings that must be freely given to the church. He had individuals flogged for what he claimed to be sacrilege. He enjoyed inflicting physical punishment on people. At least one person a day was sentenced to a whipping for what he claimed were impure thoughts. He was even responsible for the death of several.’

‘All this you saw in your time at Cill Ria?’

Sister Marga nodded grimly. ‘And more.’

‘More?’

‘He used some of the girls from the women’s house to satiate his lust.’

‘Sister Sétach?’

‘Never her, but perhaps that is not strange.’

‘Did he use you?’ Fidelma asked sharply.

Sister Marga coloured and then shrugged with a defiant gesture. ‘How can the weak defend themselves from the strong? But all the time I remembered what my father used to say — there is no tide so strong that it doesn’t ebb. I waited and prayed for any opportunity to escape.’

Eadulf leaned forward with a frown. ‘Did you kill Abbot Ultán?’

The girl regarded him with a serious expression. ‘I wish that I had possessed that courage. I did not.’

‘Why did you come on this trip with him, if you so detested him?’

‘Do you think that I had a choice? Besides, I thought there was a possibility that it might offer me an opportunity to escape. But Brother Drón was always keeping a watchful eye on me. And so was Sister Sétach.’

‘You are saying that both Drón and Sétach are watching you?’

‘I think Ultán became suspicious of my motives and ordered them to do so. They still do. This morning was the first time that I was able to escape from them. I think that they did not realise that I would dare seize the opportunity to leave with Ultán newly dead. I managed to persuade the stable lad to saddle up Ultán’s own horse so that I could ride out with the hunt. I had intended to ride east to Laigin.’

Fidelma saw the defiance in the girl’s face. ‘So you intended to flee Cashel entirely, not merely to go on the hunt?’

‘My intention was to rid myself of Drón and Sétach for good, and certainly not return to the squalid halls of Cill Ria.’

‘You managed to elude them this morning. Why did you return?’

The girl shrugged. ‘I lost the opportunity. I was in the forest when I saw Brother Drón riding hard to catch up with me. I panicked and let the horse have its head. Drón chased me through the forest for a while but, thankfully, I proved the better rider. When I finally halted, I listened for his pursuit but could not hear it. I was unsure what to do next. Then Fergus Fanat came along. . well, I found myself confessing all to him. He promised me that he would help me if I returned with him. That he would protect me. That is why I came back.’

She paused and Fidelma prompted her to continue but she shook her head. ‘There is nothing more to be said.’

‘I think there is. What made Brother Drón chase after you? How did he find out that you had fled?’

‘I learned the story from Sétach. Brother Drón was looking for me. He found Sétach after I had left and said he had received a message that I was meeting a lover by the Well of Patrick. He had asked at the gate where this was and been told it was due south. Sétach is clever and she went first to the stable and discovered that I had taken Ultán’s horse. She made inquiries, and the stable lads told her that I had gone off with the other ladies on the hunt. She found Drón in the courtyard about to set off to the Well of Patrick. Sétach advised him to follow the hunt, for she believed it was some ruse of mine to draw him in the wrong direction.’