‘How was his relationship with the Venerable Cinaed?’
Brother Cu Mara suddenly looked uncomfortable and glanced at Abbot Erc.
‘He did not agree with everything that the Venerable Cinaed taught.’
Fidelma actually smiled mischievously at the formula of the words.
‘As, indeed, your abbot confesses was his attitude. Well, I do not doubt it. I cannot see room for agreement here with the Venerable Cinaed’s argument for monotheism and his dismissal of the triune godship. That would have been anathema to the Venerable Mac Faosma.’
Abbot Erc seemed surprised by her knowledge but allowed his steward to reply.
‘There were some lively arguments…’ the young steward acknowledged. He caught sight of the abbot’s frown and added: ‘I mean, lively discussions between the two of them.’
Eadulf hid a smile. ‘So not everyone saw this Venerable Cinaed in terms of sweetness and light?’
Abbot Erc cast an irritable look at him. ‘What are you implying, Brother? That the Venerable Mac Faosma killed him because of a disagreement on the subject of the Holy Trinity?’
‘The choice of the term Holy Trinity implies that you, too, did not favour the Venerable Cinaed’s argument for monotheism?’ Fidelma could not resist the mischievous impulse to tease the stern-faced abbot.
Abbot Erc looked startled. ‘What are you saying? The Venerable Cinaed was my friend. Surely we can all hold different opinions without resorting to physical anger?’
‘That, indeed, is the objective we should strive for,’ agreed Fidelma calmly. ‘Alas, mankind often finds it easier to settle disagreements by showing who is physically stronger. Do we not have a saying that might will prevail over right?’
Abbot Erc sniffed. ‘So you think that the Venerable Cinaed was murdered because someone disagreed with his teachings?’
‘I did not say that,’ Fidelma replied. ‘On the other hand, such a theory cannot yet be discounted. Not until we have all the facts gathered in can
The young rechtaire said quickly: ‘Everyone was friendly with the Venerable Cinaed.’
‘He was a very popular man and the sort of man who, in spite of his scholastic status, was humble and approachable by everyone, from the cowherd to his fellow scholars,’ affirmed the abbot.
Fidelma sighed with impatience.
‘I am, of course, talking about particular friends,’ she said pointedly.
The abbot shrugged. ‘I was his friend, of course. We two have been longest in this abbey.’
‘Anyone else? Particular friends, that is?’
‘I knew him well in my capacity as rechtaire,’ offered Brother Cu Mara, ‘but I cannot say I was a close friend. And, of course, Sister Buan. She attended his wants for he was slightly frail. She cleaned and ran messages for him.’
Fidelma nodded. ‘Anyone else?’
‘I take it the Venerable Mac Faosma was not considered a friend?’ observed Eadulf.
Abbot Erc sighed impatiently. ‘Let it be said that Cinaed and Mac Faosma were like chalk and cheese. Cinaed was grounded in his philosophy while Mac Faosma preferred law and history. They both had views on each other’s subjects and argued them. They did not mix much within the abbey except at times of discussion and debate.’
‘Anyone else?’ repeated Fidelma.
‘Brother Eolas, naturally.’
‘Who is Brother Eolas? And why “naturally”?’ Fidelma pressed.
‘He is our librarian, the keeper of all the books we hold here.’
‘You mentioned a Sister Buan who attended to his wants. Who is she?’
A looked of disapproval formed on the face of the abbot and it was the rechtaire who replied.
‘One of our community.’ He seemed to hesitate, unwilling to expand further under the annoyed gaze of his abbot. ‘She… she is… was… a companion of the Venerable Cinaed,’ he ended lamely. ‘As well as helping him, she often travels the surrounding countryside to trade the goods made at the abbey.’
‘Isn’t that your business as steward?’
‘My business is to attend to the smooth running of the abbey. We
Abbot Erc continued to look uncomfortable and suddenly rose from his seat.
‘Since we have raised the subject, I am reminded that Sister Buan found something in the grate of the Venerable Cinaed on the day after the murder. It was a piece of burnt paper and she thought it might be a clue.’ He bent to a chest and took something from it. ‘I kept it just in case,’ he said.
The paper was scorched and torn. He handed it to Fidelma.
The only readable matter she could make out was ‘… midnight. Orat
… alone… Sin…’.
Eadulf peered at it over her shoulder and shook his head.
‘It makes no sense. It could mean anything. Why would this Sister Buan think it was significant?’
‘She said that the Venerable Cinaed must have burnt it on the night he went to the oratory.’
‘Well, we will doubtless have a word with this Sister Buan,’ Fidelma said. ‘Have we now identified all Cinaed’s friends? Is there anyone else… any particular friend of Cinaed?’
‘Not that I know of,’ Abbot Erc replied and made to take back the piece of burnt paper, but Fidelma shook her head with a smile.
‘We’ll hold on to this for the time being,’ she said, putting it carefully in her marsupium.
Slightly put out, the abbot reseated himself.
Conri, who had been silent during most of the discussion, coughed slightly to draw attention to himself and said: ‘My aunt, the Abbess Faife, was a close friend of the Venerable Cinaed. You have forgotten her. She often helped Cinaed in the library, for his eyesight was not of the best as he grew older.’
Abbot Erc flushed.
‘Of course,’ he said stiffly. ‘There was the Abbess Faife, but as she is… no longer with us, I did not think her name need be mentioned.’
Eadulf’s lips twitched in a grimace.
‘On the contrary, it is useful to know there was such a link between the two victims of violent death.’
‘Do you think that there was some connection between the deaths then, Brother Eadulf?’ the steward demanded.
‘Perhaps. We need…’ he avoided Fidelma’s eyes, ‘we need facts before we can speculate.’
‘Your primary task was to find out why the Abbess Faife was killed and where her charges are,’ the abbot exclaimed in disapproval. ‘This cannot be accomplished in this abbey. You should go to the lands of the Corco Duibhne and make inquiries there.’
Fidelma rose abruptly from her seat.
‘You are quite right, Abbot Erc. I do mean to proceed very shortly. But not until I have made those inquiries here that I think necessary. However, as it grows late, and we have had a long ride today, we shall retire now and continue in the morning.’
The abbot also rose, looking confused. He had apparently expected some argument or some further discussion.
The young rechtaire, taking a lantern, conducted them from the abbot’s chamber through the grounds of the abbey to the guests’ quarters.
‘If there is anything you wish, call upon me or Sister Sinnchene.’
He was turning to go when Fidelma stayed him.
‘You will remember that Brother Eadulf will be conducting a search of the clothing in the washroom tomorrow?’
‘I have not forgotten.’
‘Nor that I shall be expecting the merchant, Mugron, at the abbey tomorrow in the morning.’
‘Neither have I forgotten that, lady.’
‘Excellent.’ Fidelma smiled. ‘Then first thing in the morning, I would like to talk to you while we await Mugron’s arrival.’
Brother Cu Mara looked surprised.
‘Me, lady?’
