Badger's Moon sf-13 Page 15

  Fidelma raised a shoulder and let it fall in a quick shrug. ‘It is well known that the Uí Fidgente have plotted for many years to gain power in this kingdom. They have often made attempts to displace the descendants of Eoghan at Cashel. There is nothing disrespectful in telling the truth. But what were you saying about Accobrán?’

  ‘Accobrán was staying at the house of Molaga some ten weeks ago, just about the time of the feast of Lughnasa…no, let me show you that I am precise as to days, for I know that as a dálaigh you require precision. It was the day after the feast when Accobrán arrived at our abbey. He met the strangers and spoke with them several times and the next thing I knew they announced that they had decided to come here to the abbey of the Blessed Finnbarr to continue their studies of the astronomical manuscripts. They left for this place soon after Accobrán returned here. He must have been the one to tell Brother Dangila the manuscript was here.’

  ‘A few days after the feast of Lughnasa? And some days later the first slaughter of a young girl, Beccnat, took place,’ muttered Fidelma reflectively.

  Brother Túan looked uneasy.

  ‘Are you saying…?’ he began.

  Fidelma made a motion with her hand. ‘I am merely contemplating the facts, Brother Túan, and that is a fact. Tell me, what do you think of the strangers? I mean their general demeanour and so on.’

  ‘Think?’ Brother Túan shrugged. ‘They certainly have a profound knowledge. They are polite and considerate. They are aloof and keep themselves to themselves. I would not say that they are easy to get to know. It is easy to find prejudice against them.’

  ‘Why so?’

  Brother Túan looked unsettled. ‘Well, they are so different from us.’

  ‘You speak of the blackness of their skins?’

  Brother Túan made an affirmative gesture.

  ‘Let us forget the colour of their skins and judge them as we should judge everyone — on the content of their character.’

  ‘It is well said. Would that everyone were capable of rising above their fears of things and people that are different. I only say that this is the reason why people will judge the strangers harshly: because of their fear.’

  ‘Say they were strangers but, in appearance, no different from us. What would you say of them then?’

  ‘Intelligent, learned, but hard to get near. There is an aura of suspicion about them. Their fixation on star lore makes them subject to further suspicion in the light of the conditions surrounding the killings here.’

  Fidelma did not mention that Brocc had claimed he had seen one of the strangers sitting gazing at the moon on the night that Escrach was killed or that the strangers had refused to identify which of them it was. That was the thing that made Fidelma suspicious of the strangers and, indeed, brought her back to the reason why she had come to the abbey.

  ‘Thank you, Brother Túan. You have been most helpful.’

  She rose from the bench and he with her.

  ‘I am pleased to do whatever I can to help.’

  ‘Will you be staying here long?’

  ‘A few days. I have come bearing letters from my abbot to Abbot Brogán. I shall have to wait for answers before returning to the coast.’

  He bade her farewell and went off to the main building of the abbey. Fidelma caught sight of Brother Solam walking back across the courtyard. She waved him forward.

  ‘I have finished with Brother Túan,’ she began.

  The young steward interrupted her before she could go further. ‘I am glad, Sister. I had need to speak with you.’

  Fidelma was slightly puzzled at the man’s apparent coyness. ‘About what matter?’

  ‘Why, the matter that you are investigating.’ He glanced round in a conspiratorial way. ‘It is this matter of the full moon that worries me.’

  ‘Why would it worry you, Brother Solam?’ she asked, guiding him back to the spot that she and Brother Túan had vacated and motioning him to be seated next to her. ‘Come, speak what is on your mind.’

  ‘Well, there has been much talk about the strangers, and claims that they might be attracted to the night skies and the moon…’

  ‘And it is the strangers that you wish to speak of?’

  To her surprise, Brother Solam shook his head. ‘Not, I am afraid it is of someone who is close to our chieftain, Becc. And I tell you this in confidence. I would not like it to be known that I have told you.’

  Fidelma pursed her lips. ‘Brother Solam, I cannot make any promises to you. If you have material evidence of wrong-doing…’

  Brother Solam shook his head.

  ‘It is not that, not that,’ he said quickly. ‘It is no more than a report of suspicious behaviour.’

  ‘Well, if it turned out to lead to the guilty party then your anonymity could not be maintained. You would be called to appear before a Brehon and take an oath to support your evidence.’

  Brother Solam was silent for a while and then he nodded slowly. ‘It is something that does not allow me to rest easily and I must tell you or live with a feeling of guilt. I have tried to keep this secret to myself but am unable.’

  Fidelma struggled to keep her patience in the face of the moralising tone of the steward. ‘Very well. Proceed with your story.’

  Brother Solam paused for a moment or two before continuing. ‘It was when the moon was at its fullest last month. It was the night that Escrach was killed. I was returning to the abbey across the lower slopes of the Thicket of Pigs. It was approaching midnight. In fact, as I came along the road I heard the chime of the midnight Angelus from the abbey bell.’

  ‘What took you out so late?’

  Brother Solam leant forward confidentially. ‘I have a brother who lives over at the Pass of the High Wood, not far from here. I had permission that day to go to visit him. That I did and I was late returning.’

  ‘Very well. Go on.’

  ‘As I came along the road, I saw a figure approaching. That is, the figure was heading up the hill.’

  ‘And did you identify this figure?’

  ‘Of course. It was Escrach.’

  Fidelma started. Of the people she expected Brother Solam to identify, she had not anticipated the name of Escrach. She had been sure that the young steward was about to confirm that he had seen Brocc crossing the hill.

  ‘Are you saying that you saw Escrach at a time which must have been shortly before her death?’

  Brother Solam lowered his voice in affirmation. ‘That is why I have kept it to myself all these weeks.’

  ‘Did you speak to one another?’

  ‘Of course. I asked her what she was doing so far from her home and so late at night. She laughed at me. You know how insolent the young can be? Then she told me not to worry for she knew where she was going and whom she was meeting. Those were her very words.’

  Fidelma waited while the steward paused and appeared to sink into his own thoughts.

  ‘What then?’ she prompted after a few moments.

  Brother Solam raised his head. ‘Oh, then she went on her way, up the old track.’

  ‘Up the old track? Up the hill? Which led where?’

  ‘The old track eventually leads to the cave complex on the top of the hill. Only I presume she did not make it for I understand that her body was found below that, near a stone circle we call the Ring of Pigs. If only I had stopped her.’

  ‘Much power in that word “if”. You might not have been able to prevent what followed. Tell me, did you see anyone else — did you see Brocc, for example? Or anyone else?’

  ‘Brocc?’ The steward was clearly startled. ‘What would he have been doing on the hill?’

  ‘Or anyone else?’ repeated Fidelma.

  Brother Solam nodded quickly. ‘And that is what troubles me.’

  Fidelma regarded his expression closely.

  ‘Whom did you see?’ she asked sharply.

  Not for the first time in the conversation, Brother Solam leant towards her in a conspiratorial manner. Fidel
ma could smell a faint odour of onions on the man’s breath and moved slightly backwards in distaste.

  ‘You must promise that you will treat this information with prudence.’

  Fidelma compressed her lips in irritation.

  ‘I treat all information with prudence,’ she replied. ‘But you must realise how important this information is. You are speaking of someone who, if not the killer, may have been the last person to see Escrach alive.’

  Brother Solam raised an arm in a curious gesture as if attempting to apologise. ‘You see, it is a matter that has caused me disquiet and I would like what I have to say treated with caution, in case of misinterpretation.’

  ‘Leave interpretation and circumspection to me. If the information warrants their use than I will judge how and when they should be used. Now what is this thing that causes you such anxiety?’

  ‘Escrach had left me and continued up the old path. I continued down the hill on my way towards the abbey.’

  ‘I am following,’ Fidelma said when the man paused again.

  ‘I was nearing the abbey when I heard the sound of a wagon coming along. The moon was bright and I could see the dark bulk coming up the track. I do not know what made me turn aside from the path and seek shelter among the trees that lined the pathway. I think it was the sight of one of the two men who were seated side by side on the driver’s seat.’

  ‘What sort of wagon was this?’

  ‘It was a normal fén, a common rough wagon with solid wheels drawn by two oxen. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Detail is everything, Brother Solam. You tell me that you see a cart and hide from it. Something disturbs you. What is this cart like? Does it have solid wheels or spoked wheels?’

  ‘I told you, it had solid wheels.’

  ‘Exactly. And solid wheels indicate that the owner might not be as wealthy as someone with a spoke-wheeled wagon. You have described a wagon that is quite ordinary. And you said that it was the sight of one of the two men that made you hide from its passing?’

  Brother Solam nodded. ‘I did not recognise the passenger. I admit that. But I did recognise his robes.’

  ‘Robes?’

  ‘The man was one of the three strangers who reside in the abbey.’

  Fidelma blinked. It was the only sign she gave that she was surprised by the revelation. So, Brocc had been right. One of the strangers was out on the hillside that night.

  Brother Solam was continuing: ‘I saw the white robes that the Aksumites wear and noticed that the man was tall and his features were dark.’

  ‘And you say that he was a passenger on this wagon? Who was driving the wagon?’

  ‘This is what causes me disquiet.’

  Fidelma stared at him. ‘The sight of one of the guests from your abbey abroad that night on this wagon did not disquiet you? But you express disquiet at the sight of the driver. Who was that driver? Tell me plainly.’

  Fidelma’s angry expression caused Brother Solam to swallow hard and then continue hurriedly.

  ‘The driver of the wagon was the tanist.’

  Fidelma’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Accobrán?’

  ‘Indeed, it was the tanist Accobrán,’ affirmed the steward.

  There was a silence for a few moments and then Fidelma gestured for Brother Solam to go on with his story.

  ‘As I say, I was disturbed and this was the reason I did not make my presence known. What was the stranger doing abroad in the night? What was Accobrán doing at that hour driving a common wagon in which the stranger was a passenger? These questions assailed my mind. As the wagon approached, it being a clear night, I overheard snatches of their conversation. They spoke in Greek. The strangers seem proficient at that language and it is the language in which we communicate with them in the abbey.’

  ‘You speak Greek?’ asked Fidelma, resorting to that language.

  ‘I can construe Dio Chrysostom, Hippolytus, Diogenes Läertius, Herodotus of Halicarnassus-’ he replied in the same tongue.

  Fidelma interrupted his recital. ‘And what did you hear of this conversation?’

  ‘The stranger was saying that the signs were auspicious. That as the daughter of Hyperion and Theia had power over that night, so would she cast her spell over Endymion once more.’

  ‘And did you know what was meant by that?’

  ‘I know only the Greek of the Christian texts. What was being referred to was some pagan concept to which all good Christians should shut their ears.’

  ‘Presumably you did not shut your ears?’

  ‘Accobrán replied that while Selene dominated the night there was much work to be done, for soon Eos would interrupt their labours and the sacrifice of the night must be made before that time. That was all I heard because the wagon went by and disappeared up the hill in the direction in which Escrach had gone.’

  ‘You know what Selene represents?’ queried Fidelma.

  ‘I know that she was the goddess of the moon among the pagan Greeks.’

  ‘Indeed. Selene was the daughter of Hyperion and Theia and she was the moon goddess. Her sister was Eos, goddess of the dawn. Selene fell in love with Endymion, the human king of Elis, and rather than watch him wither and decay she caused him to fall into sleep in a cave so that he would remain for ever young.’

  Brother Solam stared at her in awe. ‘I do not have your learning, Sister. Yet I knew that they were talking about the moon that night.’

  ‘What then?’ prompted Fidelma. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Then I returned to the abbey.’

  ‘You did not report this to the abbot, nor tax either the strangers or Accobrán to find out what they had been doing?’

  ‘I did not.’

  ‘Yet the very next day, Escrach was found murdered on that hill. When that news reached you, why did you not report this matter to Abbot Brográn?’

  Brother Solam shook his head. ‘I am a coward, perhaps. But how was I to be certain that my own life was not in danger if I revealed what I had seen and heard that night? Feelings have been running high against this abbey and its brethren. I could not reveal that I was alone on the hill or spoke with Escrach that night. If a stranger was involved in her slaughter and I came forward as the only witness, perhaps my life might be forfeit to them. Then there is the fact that Accobrán was driving the wagon and talking of the work they had to do by the light of the moon. He was the one who talked of “the sacrifice of the night”. I remember his words clearly. I might not have your knowledge of the literature of the Greeks but I know the language well enough.’

  Fidelma sat in thought for a moment and then sighed. ‘You have been most helpful, Brother Solam. I will keep what you have said between us until I believe it can prove useful. I will not repeat our conversation to anyone except Brother Eadulf who assists me. I can vouch for his discretion. Dismiss any anxiety that you have.’

  Brother Solam looked relieved and broke into a speech of gratitude but Fidelma cut him short by holding up a hand and rising from the seat.

  ‘Thank you for being so honest, Brother Solam. Now, I wished to have another word with Brother Dangila.’

  ‘Brother Dangila?’ The steward stood up, looking uncomfortable. He glanced nervously about him. ‘I said I did not recognise who the stranger was that night.’

  ‘It is not about your story that I wish to see Brother Dangila. I came to see him on another matter.’

  Brother Solam continued to look worried.

  ‘I do not know…’ he began.

  ‘Is there a problem?’ Fidelma asked, puzzled by the look of guilt on his face.

  Brother Solam licked his lips nervously. ‘Brother Dangila is not here.’

  Fidelma examined the man closely. ‘Not here? Where then?’

  ‘Brother Dangila insisted that he needed exercise and demanded permission to leave the abbey for a walk.’

  ‘If I recall correctly, Abbot Brogán had ordered that the three strangers should remain within the walls of the abbey until matters were resolved
. People have tried to kill him and his companions because they think that they were responsible for the killings here. If nothing else, Brother Dangila’s life could still be in danger if he is found wandering the countryside. It was your duty to prevent the stranger’s putting himself in the way of harm.’

  Brother Solam grimaced helplessly like a small child being told off unjustly. ‘I did try, Sister. But it is hard to argue with Brother Dangila. He insisted on taking a walk.’

  ‘Was the danger properly explained to him? You should have told me immediately. If Brother Dangila is found alone and unprotected…’ Fidelma lost no more time but turned to where she had left her horse. ‘Which way did he go?’ she called as she mounted up.

  ‘He has often gone to the hillside there,’ Brother Solam said, pointing to the shadowy Thicket of Pigs rising above the abbey. ‘He has often…’

  But before the words were out, Fidelma had mounted and sent her horse into a canter along the path from the abbey and through the woods up the hillside track in the direction the steward had indicated.

  It was simply irresponsible on the part of Brother Solam to allow the man to wander on his own, especially in view of what had recently happened. Such lack of thought infuriated her. She gave the horse its head and allowed it to follow the ascending track through the trees, climbing the hill at its own pace. She found that the trees quickly thinned and soon she emerged on the bald bluff not far up the slopes. There were some boulders there, grey stones, as if some ancients had hauled them there with the intention of building a stone circle but then abandoned the idea, leaving the stones lying in confusion, the circle half finished. She saw Brother Dangila immediately, a tall still figure seated on one of the stones, his chin resting on a cupped hand, the elbow balanced on his knee. He seemed to be staring into space.

  However, he turned at the sound of her blowing mare as it clambered upward towards him. He rose and awaited her. His features were impassive.