Eadulf waved his companions, Pecanum and Naovan, to follow him. He did not pretend to be a good horseman but he nudged his horse into a swift trot that soon became a canter. He hung on grimly, thankful that his mount seemed to sense, as intelligent horses do, what was wanted of it. He had no idea where Gormán was going, though he presumed that the young warrior knew a short cut over the small lake that would bring him round to cut off the figure in front. It was now that Eadulf began to have second thoughts. Why would the lonely figure be the missing Sister Marga? What made him think it was? The girl, if running away from Cashel, would surely not head in this direction but east towards Laigin as she had done before? Yet the instinct that made him act was strong.
He felt as if the canter would never end. In reality it was a short time indeed before he saw the figure of the religieuse on the road ahead, riding at a steady pace and apparently unaware of pursuit. The thudding of their hooves, however, eventually came to her ears and she glanced back. Even so, Eadulf was unable to identify her. Her action denoted panic for she turned and kicked her beast forward, but at that very moment Gormán appeared, bursting through the woods on to the track just in front of her.
Her horse, startled first by her vicious kick and then by the appearance of another horse and rider blocking its path, reared up. The slight figure fought to maintain her balance, lost hold and rolled off its back. Gormán grabbed the beast’s reins and brought it under control just as Eadulf and the others came up.
Eadulf slid from his horse’s back and bent down to the girl. She lay on her back winded.
He felt a strange combination of relief and concern.
It was Sister Marga.
Sister Fidelma’s face was impassive as she regarded Fergus Fanat as he lay stretched on his bed.
‘Tell me, Fergus, what happened when you were attacked?’
‘I didn’t see. I was hit from behind.’
‘Yet you say that you are sure it was Sister Marga.’
‘I am sure.’
‘When was the last time you spoke to Marga before that?’
‘After we came back I promised her that I would try to resolve the problem. It was some time before I came up with an idea. The resolution was simple. I would go to my cousin, Blathmac the king, who, like me, knew of Abbot Ultán’s unsavoury reputation. I would tell him the story and ask for his intervention. At least he could prevent Marga’s being sent back to Cill Ria.’
‘There is one thing that puzzles me.’
‘Which is?’
‘If you thought Marga had killed Abbot Ultán, did you believe that she had also killed Muirchertach Nár?’
He hesitated and then nodded. ‘When I asked her about Muirchertach, she became very angry. She denied it, of course. But I wondered if she had killed him because Muirchertach had seen her on that night of Ultán’s killing just as I had and was trying to use it as a weapon over her. He wanted a weapon against Cill Ria.’
‘That sounds very far-fetched. From what I know, Marga would have been happy to join with anyone who wanted to bring Cill Ria into disrepute.’
‘Marga is a woman who does not like to be forced into anything,’ he said grimly. ‘In the forest, when I asked her if she had seen Muirchertach during the hunt she denied it. I believe she killed him.’
Fidelma sat back for a moment with closed eyes.
‘You do not sound as if your proclaimed love allowed you to trust her,’ she commented sceptically.
An expression of anger crossed his face. ‘My proclaimed love, as you call it, allowed me to put my honour at stake in standing by her over the murder of Abbot Ultán. .’
‘Which you believe she committed even though she denies it,’ Fidelma said with emphasis.
‘I was trying to help her.’
‘Just so. And you proposed to go to Blathmac, proclaim that she was a murderess but that you loved her, and ask him to intercede so that. . what? What exactly was Blathmac to do?’
‘Let the truth be known that she had every good reason to kill Ultán. I was prepared to pay the fines and honour-price on her behalf.’
‘What did Marga say to this plan?’
‘When she realised that I was not pleading her innocence but mitigation in the belief that she was guilty, she turned on me angrily. She felt that I ought to be pleading her innocence. She felt I could not love her if I thought her guilty. I explained that she could not hope to get away with such a plea with the overwhelming evidence against her. I was pleading mitigation out of my love for her.’
‘Would your love not accept that she was innocent?’ queried Fidelma dryly.
Fergus Fanat once again raised his head defiantly. ‘My love is tempered with logic.’
‘So what then? Was this when she hit you?’
He shook his head. ‘This conversation had taken place before the evening meal, at the side of the chapel. She went running off to the hostel. I spent some time walking round the walls of the fortress, trying to get things clear in my head. But my mind was made up. With or without her approval, I had to show that she had reason to kill Ultán, before she was found out and condemned. I decided to go ahead with my plan to tell Blathmac.’
‘And then?’
‘Then I went to Blathmac’s chamber intending to discuss the matter with him. I remember that I entered the corridor that led to his guest chamber. It was empty and I started along it.’ He paused, frowning suddenly.
‘A thought has just occurred to you?’
‘I had passed a small alcove in which there was a window. .’
‘I know the one.’
‘I thought that it was empty. But now I recall that after I had passed it, I thought I heard a soft thump. I remember now, I glanced over my shoulder but there was nothing to account for it. Mind you, I could not see back into the alcove. I had almost reached the door when I heard a soft rustle of clothes behind me and before I could turn. . well, I suppose I was hit, for the world seemed to explode into darkness. That was all I recall until I awoke with the old apothecary tending my wounds here.’
Fidelma was silent for a moment. ‘But you told me a moment or so ago that it was Marga who attacked you. Now you are saying that you did not see who it was.’
Fergus Fanat shook his head firmly. ‘I did not need to see her to know that it was her.’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘There was the rustle of clothes, her dress, and, for a moment, I smelt perfume on the air. It was the same fragrance that I have noticed on her before.’
‘What fragrance was this?’
‘It is called lus na túis — lavender.’
Fidelma gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment. ‘And that is how you knew it was Marga? By this fragrance?’
‘It was. She is so silly to think that attacking me would hide her crime. But what it has done has been to show that she is either out of her mind or was just using me.’
‘Where do you think Marga will go now? To Laigin?’
‘She will know that would be the direction in which any search for her will be made. I suspect that she will go to earth.’
‘Go to earth?’ He had used the phrase in the manner in which a hunter spoke of a fox hiding in a burrow. ‘That is an odd expression.’
‘It was a phrase that she used when we were speaking during the boar hunt. I asked her what she would do if the alarm were raised before she could make her way to Laigin. It was a phrase that came naturally to her. I told you, she was a good horsewoman and hunted as well as any man I know.’
Fidelma was thinking that if she had been forced to go to earth near Cashel, waiting for the right moment to leave for Laigin, where would she have chosen? Uppermost in her mind now was the fact that she had to find Sister Marga before Brother Drón caught up with her.