‘Of course. We all have our faults.’
‘But Muirchertach Nár’s faults did not warrant his death,’ Eadulf remarked.
Dúnchad Muirisci blinked and shook his head. ‘It is obvious why he was killed. I said so at the start, as soon as you told me he had been murdered.’
‘Vengeance?’
‘Of course vengeance!’ Dúnchad Muirisci was emphatic. ‘That man, Brother Drón. . he was Abbot Ultán’s comrade, not just a travelling companion. He was steward at Gill Ria. And what of the others Abbot Ultán brought with him? Any one of them could have killed him. Come to think of it, wasn’t Sister Marga riding on the hunt? That is scandalous enough in itself, but maybe it has a deeper significance too.’
Fidelma stood up abruptly. ‘We will finish for the time being, Dúnchad Muirisci, but you, like everyone else, will remain now within these walls until we have done with this investigation.’ Something had been worrying her for some time and now she finally dredged the question from the back of her mind. ‘On the night that Abbot Ultán was killed, you told me that Abbot Augaire and you were playing brandubh.’
‘We were.’
‘Abbot Augaire left you close to midnight?’
‘He did.’
‘Then you said that after you went to bed shouting in the corridor disturbed you. You did not investigate because you had been disturbed already that night. What was the cause of your first disturbance?’
Dúnchad Muirisci appeared puzzled for a moment and then his face cleared. He smiled.
‘I had almost forgotten. After Abbot Augaire had left, I was preparing for bed when there was a cry and the sound of someone falling outside my door. I went quickly to it and opened it. I found that weasel Brother Drón picking himself up.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘He had tripped and fallen outside my door.’ Dúnchad smiled. ‘I did not ask him how he came to fall but he sheepishly said he had been hurrying after someone and tripped. Easily done, I suppose. Anyway, it was nothing to do with me. That was why I did not respond to the second disturbance, which I later realised must have been the discovery of Ultán’s murder.’
There was a silence, and then the Connacht noble rose hesitantly.
‘So what of Muirchertach Nár?’ he asked. ‘What will happen now?’
‘At the moment his body lies in the apothecary of Brother Conchobhar,’ Fidelma replied. ‘It will be washed and prepared ready for burial.’
‘He should be taken to the great abbey of Cluain Mic Nois where his forefathers are buried, as are all legitimate kings of Connacht.’
‘That may not be possible. Neither you nor Aíbnat, nor even your close personal attendants, may leave here with it until the investigation is over.’
‘So you would keep the body here?’ Dúnchad Muirisci was aghast.
‘Let us hope that it will not be for long,’ Fidelma replied gravely.
Eadulf grimaced wryly. ‘We can be thankful that it is the depth of winter and the days are cold,’ he added.
Outside in the corridor, he turned to Fidelma. ‘It is an unlikely story that he is telling. I think it is not to be believed.’
‘Unfortunately it is the unlikely stories that tend to be the truth,’ Fidelma commented. ‘However, I agree that we cannot take it at face value.’
‘Especially the reason given as to why Sister Sétach was visiting. I don’t think that promiscuity had anything to do with it.’
Fidelma smiled briefly. ‘An interesting choice of word, Eadulf.’
‘I merely meant that Sister Sétach would be immoderate in her behaviour if. . well, you know. I believe that she could have only just met Dúnchad Muirisci.’
Fidelma suddenly smiled. ‘Sometimes, Eadulf, you unconsciously put your finger on a point that eludes me.’
Eadulf looked bemused. ‘Something about Sister Sétach? I don’t see what.’
Fidelma shook her head. ‘Something about Sister Marga. I now want a word with that young woman.’
They were walking to the hostel for the religieuse when, turning a corner, they nearly collided with Abbot Augaire. He halted and frowned at them.
‘How does your investigation proceed, Sister Fidelma?’ he inquired sharply. ‘I have just come from Aíbnat. It is strange that you keep this matter so secret. Anyway, it means that Muirchertach Nár’s body awaits disposal. Can you not conclude this matter so that we may accompany it to Connacht for burial?’
‘Not yet,’ Fidelma said calmly.
‘Rumour has it that Brother Drón was caught with Muirchertach’s horse.’
‘Rumours spread quickly,’ muttered Fidelma. ‘But things must take their course, Augaire. You know that. However, speaking of Brother Drón, I did want to ask you a question. On the night of the murder of Abbot Ultán, did you see Brother Drón in the corridor when you left Dúnchad Muirisci’s chamber?’
Abbot Augaire paused for a moment. ‘Was he there?’
‘I am asking you.’
‘So far as I am aware, I left Dúnchad Muirisci, walked to my chamber without seeing anyone and was there for the rest of the night. I shouldn’t think Brother Drón could have been lurking anywhere unless. .’ He paused.
‘Unless?’ pressed Fidelma.
Abbot Augaire grimaced dismissively. ‘There is a sort of alcove there in the corridor. You must know it. There are several in the corridors here. I was going to say, unless he was lurking there. . but then I walked past it and there was no one to be seen. Of course, he could have been standing on the ledge that runs outside the alcove window.’ He chuckled. ‘But I don’t think Brother Drón is the sort to submit himself to such dangers. The ledge has several loose blocks along it.’
Eadulf smiled grimly.
‘I think that we can discount Brother Drón’s playing such acrobatics,’ he said firmly.
Fidelma and Eadulf found Sister Marga in the women’s hostel. The religieuse had just come from the bathing house, and there was the faint odour of some fragrance. Fidelma sniffed as she entered, for she could smell a combination of scents. She could identify fedlend, the soft smell of honeysuckle, but not the more powerful odour. Sister Sétach was fussing over her companion with some toiletry and looked up in annoyance as Fidelma came in.
‘Are we never to be left alone?’ she snapped.
Sister Marga glanced at her companion in surprise but Fidelma ignored the petulant tone.
‘I am, as I have said, a dálaigh, Sister Sétach,’ she said mildly, ‘and must encroach on you as many times as is necessary for my investigation. However, it is Sister Marga that we have come to see, and I would appreciate it if you could leave us for a minute or two.’
Sister Sétach stood for a few moments, her jaw working slightly, as if she were considering this. Then she looked down at Sister Marga.
‘Do you want me to go?’ she demanded brusquely.
‘I think it is better to do as Sister Fidelma asks,’ Marga replied in an almost apologetic tone.
With a loud sniff of disapproval, Sister Sétach turned and left the room. Sister Marga looked after her with a frown before turning back to Fidelma and Eadulf.
‘She does not sleep well and that makes her irritable. I think she believes it is her duty to protect me,’ she said apologetically. ‘She was at Cill Ria when I joined and considers herself my senior.’
‘Yet it was you, so I understand, who asked her to come on this trip?’
Sister Marga looked startled for a moment. ‘She told you that?’
‘It is not true, then?’
‘Oh, partially true, I suppose. I felt sorry for her, being so upset at not being chosen to accompany this embassy from the Comarb of Patrick. There was space for another one to help keep the records and she kept pressing me about it, so I asked Abbot Ultán if he would consider taking her as well. But Brother Drón, in fact, had already suggested that Seétach should be a member of the embassy and Abbot Ultán had agreed to it even before I asked.’