Blinne’s possible motive for murder.’
Brother Abán shook his head sadly. ‘You are describing a devious mind.’
‘One must have a clever but disturbed mind to set out to paint another guilty for one’s own acts. Bláth had both.’
‘But what I do not understand is why — why did she do this?’
‘The oldest motives in the world — as we have said — greed and envy.’
‘How so?’
‘She knew that Ernán had no male heirs and so on his death his land, under the law of the
Fidelma put down her empty glass and rose.
‘The moon is up. I shall use its light to return to Cashel.’
‘You will not stay until dawn? Night is fraught with dangers.’
‘Only of our making. Night is when things come alive; it is the mother of counsels. My mentor, Brehon Morann, says that the dead of night is when wisdom ascends with the stars to the zenith of thought and all things are seen. Night is the quiet time for contemplation.’
They stood on the threshold of Brother Abán’s house. Fidelma’s horse had been brought to the door. Just as Fidelma was about to mount, a strange, eerie wailing sound echoed out of the valley. It rose, shrill and clear against the night sky, rose and ended abruptly, rose again and this time died away. It was like the
Brother Abán crossed himself. ‘The Banshee!’ he whispered.
Fidelma smiled. ‘To each their own interpretation. I hear only the lonely cry of a wolf searching for a mate. Yet I will concede that for each act there is a consequence. Bláth conjured the Banshee to cover her crime and perhaps the Banshee is having the last word.’
She mounted her horse, raised her hand in salute, and turned along the moonlit road towards Cashel.
