‘Alas, he is not, old friend,’ Fidelma said, casting a look of disapproval at Eadulf. ‘But tell me first, what was the cause of your earlier argument with Deogaire?’
Brother Conchobhar did not appear surprised at being asked.
‘I hope he has not been causing problems,’ he muttered. ‘But relative or not, I confess I found myself losing my temper with him. I have accepted his strange views for the sake of my poor sister and our common ancestors, but there are limits to what I should have to put up with. We did, indeed, have a quarrel earlier today. We exchanged some sharp words over our respective beliefs. It came to the point where I could not restrain my temper, for which I am truly sorry. I told him to leave my house and not to return. So he left.’
Fidelma nodded slowly. ‘Who, between you, would you say provoked his leaving?’
‘Mea culpa. It was my fault and I am heartily ashamed that, even at my age and with my experience, this young man could provoke me into losing my temper. I was made even more ashamed and angry because Abbot Ségdae’s steward was a witness. Brother Madagan had come to get some wild garlic for a distemper he had. But why do you ask this? What has happened to him? What has this to do with flying demons?’
Fidelma explained about the attack on them, quickly and succinctly. ‘He will be all right under guard,’ she added, patting the old man’s hand. ‘Tomorrow we will get down to the truth.’
Brother Conchobhar looked at her sorrowfully. ‘I can believe many things but I can’t believe that my nephew is guilty of an attack on you and Eadulf. For all his mistaken arrogance, he is right in one thing. There is evil here, if it is not among us already. Perhaps we should be fearful. We should fear what is coming from the east.’
‘All we know is that it is supposed to be a peaceful deputation of members of the Faith. There should be no need to fear them.’
‘You choose your words carefully, Fidelma. There should be no need to fear them. That means you have not discounted any such fear.’
Fidelma made a ‘tut-tut’ sound with her tongue. ‘You have a sharp ear, Brother Conchobhar.’
‘I need two sharp ears and sometimes a sharper mind,’ replied the old man. ‘Tell me, Deogaire was not the only one in the guest house, was he — the only one with access to the roof at the moment the statue crashed down on you?’
‘He was not,’ Fidelma nodded.
‘And have you eliminated all the others from any possible involvement?’
‘I have not,’ she replied, much to Eadulf’s surprise.
‘You haven’t questioned the others yet?’ asked Brother Conchobhar.
‘Not yet,’ she confirmed. ‘They are not likely to go far, all being safely abed in the guest chambers. You seem to have something on your mind, old friend.’
‘Wasn’t Brother Madagan there to support my nephew’s claim that Deogaire and I had quarrelled?’
Fidelma realised that it was true: Brother Madagan had remained silent.
‘How much did he hear?’ she asked. ‘Did he hear you telling Deogaire to leave?’
Brother Conchobhar was hesitant. ‘Perhaps not,’ he admitted. ‘But he would have heard our voices raised.’
‘That might not signify anything.’
‘Brother Madagan speaks some of your language, Eadulf,’ the apothecary told him.
‘And fairly well, too,’ agreed Eadulf. ‘I know that, and he told us that he learned the language while in Láirge, the harbour township.’
‘He was quite open about that,’ Fidelma added. ‘He told us that he spent two summers there teaching students from the Saxon kingdoms before they passed on to our colleges. Láirge is a favourite port where ships come from the lands beyond the seas.’
‘Did he say whose school he was teaching at?’ the apothecary wanted to know.
Fidelma glanced at Eadulf and then shook her head.
‘It was his sister’s school,’ Brother Conchobhar said. He saw that they were waiting for him to explain further, so went on: ‘Mella, his sister, had a little school on the right bank of the Siúr not far from the port. She knew your language well, Eadulf, for she had been in the kingdom of Cenwealh and his wife Seaxburh.’
‘That is the Kingdom of the West Saxons,’ Eadulf said immediately. ‘How do you know this?’
‘Because Brother Madagan once told me. That was some time ago. His sister had been a missionary there for a while and then, with her knowledge of the language, she returned to teach our language to those Saxons coming to this land. He went there to help her and thus he also acquired the Saxon tongue.’
‘I did not know he had a sister there,’ Fidelma said, surprised.
‘No longer. Mella is dead.’
‘How did it happen? Was it the Yellow Plague? As I recall, many died in that area during the years it ravaged this land.’
Brother Conchobhar shook his head sadly. ‘No, she was not carried off by plague. One of the Saxon foreigners killed her — after having had his way with her. It was soon after that, Brother Madagan decided to return to Imleach and became steward to Abbot Ségdae.’
‘You learned all this from him?’ Eadulf queried.
‘There were also whispers at the time,’ admitted Conchobhar. ‘But it was several years ago now.’
‘What made you think of this?’ Fidelma enquired patiently.
‘I was reminded of what he told me just the other day. Maybe I should have mentioned it before. Brother Madagan was helping me prepare the body of Brother Cerdic for the funeral rites. I had left him in order to fetch a sheet for the racholl to wind the body in. When I returned, I was shocked.’
‘Shocked?’
‘I have rarely seen a face filled with such malignancy as his, as he bent over the body. I heard him curse it and say that all Saxons should be consigned to Ifrenn, the infernal regions, and not be allowed redemption in the New Faith.’
‘That doesn’t sound like Brother Madagan,’ Fidelma said.
‘It was as if some serpent spoke from him in that moment. Then he turned and saw me staring in horror at him. His face was pale with hate and then he quickly composed himself. He reminded me about his sister; how she was violated and killed.’
‘Was the culprit ever caught?’ Fidelma asked.
Once again, Brother Conchobhar shook his head. ‘Mella’s body was not found until the next day,’ he said heavily, ‘and then it was presumed that the man responsible had sailed back to his own land on the morning tide.’
‘Why was it presumed?’
‘Brother Madagan knew that a man called Ceolwulf had been paying more than usual attention to his sister. A Brehon had the port of Láirge searched for this man. There was no sign of him, but that morning, a ship set sail from Láirge for a foreign port called Clifadun, in the northern part of the Kingdom of the West Saxons. There was nothing to be done, for the Brehon had no jurisdiction to follow the ship. I wondered if the death of his sister had left Brother Madagan bitter against all Saxons.’
‘He has never shown any animosity to me,’ Eadulf said thoughtfully.
Brother Conchobhar smiled without humour. ‘He keeps his temper under control but I think he was named wisely, for at times he can be a snarling little dog.’
‘It does give us some new thoughts about motives for the attack on Brother Cerdic,’ Fidelma agreed slowly. ‘But it gets confusing when we consider the death of Rudgal and the attack on us.’
‘I know we speak of your relative, but were I to make a wager at the moment, it would be on Deogaire’s guilt,’ Eadulf declared. ‘He had the opportunity and the motive — the motive being to fulfil his threat to Fidelma; to create some fear in this place in advance of the arrival of Bishop Arwald and his party.’
Fidelma was not so certain. ‘But again, it lacks a connection with the deaths of the others. In fact, we can find suspects for each murder — but not one to whom we can attribute all the deaths.’