A Prayer for the Damned

Brother Drón coloured hotly. ‘I was not playing a game. I. .’

‘Perhaps you were thinking of how best to extort something from the situation?’

The barb seemed to strike home for the man flushed and was at a loss to reply.

‘Carry on,’ insisted Fidelma. ‘You say that you saw Marga leave Ultán’s chamber. What happened then?’

‘I decided to remain where I was for a while in order to give Abbot Ultán a little time so that he could be assured that I had not seen anyone exit his room.’

‘For how long?’ At least, she thought, Drón’s story corroborated that of Fergus Fanat.

‘Not long. I doubt my candle had burned down by more than a gráinne.’ He indicated the smallest Irish measurement, meaning the length of a wheat grain.

‘And then you returned to Ultán’s chamber?’

‘The door was closed. I knocked. There was no answer. To my surprise, I found the door unbolted so I entered and saw Abbot Ultán lying on his back on the bed. It was clear what had happened. Sister Marga had stabbed him to death. I exited hastily from the room, closed the door, and started to hurry along the corridor after Sister Marga to confront her.’

‘In your haste you tripped and fell,’ put in Fidelma.

Drón looked at her in astonishment for a moment.

‘How did you know. .?’ he began. Then he nodded. ‘Ah, from Dúnchad Muirisci. I fell outside his door and he opened it to find me picking myself up. I explained that I had tripped. The fall brought me to my senses. It was little use accusing Marga of Abbot Ultán’s death. To what end?’

‘Justice?’ put in Eadulf cynically.

Brother Drón ignored him. ‘I realised that we had to get her back to Cill Ria where her fellows in the abbey could be told of what she had done and inflict the punishment in accordance with our rules rather than allow her to go free with a simple fine under the laws of the brehons. So I went back to my chamber to consider the situation.’

‘And when did you find out that Muirchertach Nár had been accused of Abbot Ultán’s murder? Why did you not come forward with your information?’

‘For the same reason. Sister Marga had to be taken back for punishment to Cill Ria.’

‘When did you hear that Muirchertach was accused?’

‘I heard a great fuss in the corridor and overheard a guard saying that Muirchertach Nár had been seen fleeing from Abbot Ultán’s chamber just before he had been found murdered. I realised what had happened. After I had returned, Muirchertach Nár had gone to see Ultán and probably entered as I had. He likely found Ultán dead, turned and fled, but just as Brehon Baithen and one of the palace guards had come along the corridor. They had jumped to the natural conclusion.’

‘So you could have proved Muirchertach Nár’s innocence immediately?’

‘Not without incriminating myself or revealing that Sister Marga was the killer.’

‘When did you tell Sister Sétach about this?’ asked Fidelma. ‘When did you ask her to search the abbot’s chamber?’

Once again, Brother Drón frowned at her apparent knowledge. Fidelma decided to explain.

‘As you know, Sister Sétach came to Ultán’s chamber the day after the murder was discovered. However, the guard refused her entry. She was so desperate in her search for something that she actually climbed on to the ledge that runs along the outside wall and made her way from the corridor window to the window in Ultán’s chamber. I can only surmise that you must have told her about Ultán’s death. What was she looking for?’

Brother Drón hesitated. ‘The next day everyone knew about the murder and that Muirchertach Nár was suspect. That morning in the chapel, I took Sister Sétach aside and told her what I knew — that Sister Marga had killed Abbot Ultán. I told her that my intention was to get her back to Cill Ria as soon as it was possible to leave. As I say, in her own community, among her fellow religious, we could punish her under the full rigours of the Penitentials.’

‘Leaving Muirchertach Nár to take the blame for the murder?’ Fidelma was aghast at the admission.

Brother Drón shrugged. ‘It was God’s justice on the man. He was no friend to Cill Ria or to what we stand for. I rejoice at his death.’

‘I find it hard to believe that you could ignore both the law and your self-proclaimed charity of the Faith. So what made Sister Sétach go to Abbot Ultán’s chamber that evening?’

‘Our duty was to ensure that there was no evidence left which would implicate Abbot Ultán with Sister Marga. I feared that there might be some incriminating evidence left in Ultán’s belongings which, having been discovered, might lead to Sister Marga. Sister Sétach offered to go, but unfortunately she had barely begun her search when you and the Saxon brother entered. At first she did not know what to do but she thought that she had finally diverted your suspicions by telling you what was an approximation of the truth.’

Fidelma smiled thinly. ‘In fact, she merely enhanced the suspicion. But, in all of this, Brother Drón, I find it hard to believe that you as a religieux would allow an innocent man to be blamed, that you would conspire to aid someone whom you thought was guilty of murder to escape the law. .’

‘Not escape the law,’ intervened Brother Drón. ‘To answer to a higher law, to suffer all the agonies that are due to a witch and murderess.’

Brother Drón’s features were alight with fanatic zeal and Fidelma realised that he truly believed in his cause.

‘Thank God it is not the Penitentials that rule this land, Brother Drón. At least you will now have to answer to the laws that do govern us,’ Fidelma said firmly as she stood up.

Brother Drón was undaunted. ‘You may shelter in your man-made rules, Sister Fidelma. Remember you will, yourself, finally have to answer to the rules of the Faith.’

‘And what rules are they?’ Fidelma asked sharply. ‘These Penitentials? Who set them down? Are they not also man-made?’

‘They are the law! The law of the Faith!’ Brother Drón replied vehemently.

‘I would have a care in your interpretation of the word “law”.’

‘Christ said that he came to fulfil the law, that the law was permanent and that people should obey it,’ grated Brother Drón.

‘And that law was Mosaic law, the ten commandments, not your Penitentials that have been devised to inflict suffering on mankind. Christ kept the commandments but he did not keep the law as made by men. Did he not set aside the understanding of his own people on issues like ritual cleansing, food laws and other matters — even the very understanding of the Sabbath day? Attend to your Scriptures and mark well, before you quote the words of Christ on law to me. If Scripture teaches anything, it is that it is not the appearance of law, the external appearance of purity and obedience, but its reality that should be obeyed. Christ’s concern was for inner purity, for the ethic of the principle of truth rather than the ethic of rules for the sake of rules. You may claim to support the ethic of punishment of the transgressor in Cill Ria but I would hope that the true Faith teaches you the principle of charity.’

Brother Drón swallowed at her emotional rebuke. For the first time, he saw the anger and passion in her usually composed features and found no answer for her.

Fidelma paused at the door and glanced back at him. ‘Does not Paul speak of the law written on the heart? Give me a pagan with a moral conscience rather than a man who proclaims the Faith in all outward appearances and yet denies that inner morality. The sooner that your type of faith is eliminated, Drón, the better will be the world.’

Silently, Fidelma and Eadulf made their way to the chamber where Sister Marga had been temporarily confined.

Enda was standing outside as they approached. He stood aside and rapped on the chamber door. Muirgen opened it.

‘Sister Marga is bathed and dressed, lady,’ she reported, with a salutation to Fidelma.

‘Excellent. And you ensured that she lack for nothing in her toiletry?’