A Prayer for the Damned

indeed, Sister Marga had to be taken back to Cill Ria. I suggest that Blathmac take into care both Drón and Sétach and return them to Ard Macha, and through his brehon find out whether this was done with the abbot of Ard Macha’s knowledge.’

When Brother Drón and Sister Sétach had been removed, Brehon Barrán turned with a bewildered expression to Fidelma.

‘But this doesn’t resolve the murders of Ultán and Muirchertach unless. .’ He turned a suspicious gaze to Dúnchad Muirisci. ‘Well, Fidelma, you have led us down a complicated path and seem to have eliminated all the suspects except one. It appears that there is no logical choice of culprit left other than the man who stands to gain most by Muirchertach Nár’s death.’

Dúnchad Muirisci began to rise indignantly.

‘If you refer to the tánaiste of Connacht, then the business of his horse and the split shoe was compelling,’ interrupted Fidelma. ‘I considered it. But his story was weak, so weak that it had to be the truth. If he were lying then he would have worked out a stronger alibi. His mount did bolt when the wild boar charged and Dúnchad was thrown. Doubtless Muirchertach and his killer found the horse. After the killer had killed Muirchertach, he heard Dúnchad calling in the woods. He mounted Dúnchad’s horse and led his own and Muirchertach’s away. As soon as he had gone a short distance, he left Dúnchad’s horse with its reins over a bush so that it would not wander. Then he left Muirchertach’s horse loose, and went off to rejoin the hunt on his own mount. Dúnchad finally caught up with his horse, the one with the split shoe, and rode back to Cashel. As had the real murderer.’

Brehon Barrán looked utterly bewildered. ‘We already know that Drón had found Muirchertach’s horse and was leading it back to Cashel. Drón is not guilty of killing Muirchertach. Now you say that Dúnchad is equally innocent. I confess, I am totally lost.’

Fidelma smiled grimly. ‘I believed from the start that there were not two separate murderers and, moreover, that both murders had been committed for the same motive. It was vengeance, as I said at the beginning of this hearing. That was the link. But what person would have cause to want vengeance on both Ultán and Muirchertach Nár? What had they done in common to one person here that would warrant their death?’ She swung round. ‘Perhaps you will answer that question, Abbot Augaire?’

Abbot Augaire was startled for a moment. Her accusing eyes had glazed into an icy coldness, the green fire turning to a chilling blue-grey. Augaire read cold determination in her features. He accepted that the accusation was no mere guesswork. He sat back in sesignation.

‘How did you work it out?’ His tone was almost genial as he asked the question.

‘Let us come to the means first and then the motive, for the motive has been staring me in the face ever since our first meeting. The means only fell into place when we discussed how Brother Drón might have hidden himself in the alcove. You said that you had not seen him in the alcove. When it was mentioned that he might have stood out on the ledge that ran under the window along to Ultán’s chamber, you replied: “But I don’t think Brother Dr6n is the sort to submit himself to such dangers. The ledge has several loose blocks along it.” How did you know that fact unless you had been along that same ledge yourself?’

Abbot Augaire winced in disgust as he acknowledged the slip.

‘On the night of Ultán’s death you were playing brandubh with Dúnchad Muirisci,’ went on Fidelma. ‘You left Dúnchad’s chamber towards midnight. As you went down the corridor, you heard Ultán’s door open. You saw Sister Marga come out. She was probably looking back into the chamber and did not see you. Why hadn’t she then seen you when she turned into the corridor? We know that Drón and Fergus Fanat were in the corridor facing Ultán’s door, so you were in the corridor along which Marga had to come. The answer was that you had slipped into the alcove and she passed by without seeing you. I think that the idea came to you on the spur of the moment. You noticed the ledge and realised that it ran all the way to Ultán’s chamber. Knowing that he was alone, you took the decision to make use of it as a means of reaching his chamber unseen. No one would then observe you if they came along the corridor. You would be safe. You entered his room, surprising him, and you stabbed him to death in a frenzied fashion as befitted your great hatred for him. Then you slipped back along the ledge the way you had come.’

Abbot Augaire made no comment.

‘You left Ultán’s chamber not a moment too soon, for that was when Brother Drón entered. He did not tarry long, for he had also seen Marga leaving and came to the conclusion that she had killed him. Drón, as he had told us, had paused before going to Ultán’s so as to save the abbot embarrassment. That pause was lucky for you in that it gave you the time and opportunity. Drón initially raced after Marga to accuse her but slipped and fell on the flagstone outside Dúnchad’s room. He then came to his senses about challenging Marga. She could bring down the claims of Ard Macha. He decided to return to his chamber saying nothing. It did not occur to him until too late that he should have taken from Ultán’s room the documents which showed that Marga had been the scribe of this so-called Liber Angeli.

‘By the time he realised it, lo and behold, Muirchertach Nár had decided to speak to Ultán. He went to his chamber, saw the body and, aghast, backed from the scene only to be spotted by Brehon Baithen and Caol who came to the natural conclusion. He was accused of the murder.’

Abbot Augaire still sat quietly, not speaking.

‘For a while, Augaire, you probably thought that you had the ideal situation. Your first victim was dead and the intended second victim was charged with the crime. When you heard that I was going to defend Muirchertach Nár, you did your best to emphasise Muirchertach’s hatred of Ultán to me. However, you realised that I was developing a good case to defend him and you decided that you could not take the chance. You needed to complete your act of vengeance.

‘The boar hunt was the ideal opportunity, especially when the hunting party became scattered. You were shadowing Muirchertach, though probably keeping out of his sight, and when he stumbled alone on a secluded spot you continued to sweep round and meet him face to face. You must have persuaded him to dismount and somehow got hold of his bir, the hunting spear. You killed him with that.

‘Then coincidence came to your aid. Dúnchad’s horse being loose was a godsend. You told me that your father was a hunter and tracker. You knew the skills involved and utilised your knowledge to lay a false trail. You took his horse and mounted it, taking Muirchertach’s horse as well. You rode a short distance to stony ground, tied Dúnchad’s horse to a gorse bush and probably slapped Muirchertach’s piebald across the rump causing it to canter off to where Drón found it. You then re-mounted your own horse and rode off in time to find Muirchertach’s wife Aibnat to guide her away from the scene. As you were returning with her, you encountered Eadulf and Gorman. But you were now satisfied that your revenge was complete.’

Abbot Augaire was smiling now.

Brehon Barrán leaned forward with a puzzled frown.

‘But revenge for what?’ he asked, confused. ‘I do not follow this at all.’

Fidelma was still looking expectantly at Abbot Augaire. ‘Shall I continue?’

Abbot Augaire shrugged a shoulder in eloquent indifference. Fidelma turned back to Barrán.

‘Revenge for the death of Searc, the poetess.’

‘But Augaire did not know Searc the poetess,’ Dúnchad Muirisci interrupted. ‘He was only a witness to her death. That is how he became involved with Muirchertach and was appointed emissary to demand compensation from Ultán. There was no personal relationship there.’

Fidelma smiled. ‘Augaire was a member of a small community near Rinn Carna in Connacht. He was fishing one day when he witnessed the distracted girl Searc plunge to her death. It was suicide. .’

‘To which she was driven,’ snapped Abbot Augaire fiercely, speaking for the first time since Fidelma had begun her peroration.

‘Just so,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘As we know, Searc had fallen passionately in love with a young religieux of Cill Ria. Ultán forbade the relationship and sent the boy Senach overseas and he was killed on the voyage. Searc was full of grief.’

‘I can see why Ultán could be held to account for having a part in driving the poor girl to her death,’ Brehon Barrán agreed. ‘But why should anyone want to exact revenge on Muirchertach Nár? Surely Searc was his wife’s younger sister and Muirchertach made lawful representations for compensation for her loss?’

‘It was not hard to discover that Muirchertach Nár had a reputation as a philanderer and womaniser.