Act of Mercy (12 page)

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Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_NB_Fixed, #_rt_yes, #blt, #Clerical Sleuth, #Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery, #Medieval Ireland

BOOK: Act of Mercy
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‘Argument?’
But Sister Ainder would not amplify. Fidelma tried again.
‘What was the argument about?’
‘I could not say.’
‘Presumably, as you were sharing a cabin, you know Sister Gormán well?’ Fidelma wanted to move to the matter in another way.
‘Know? Hardly. A silly young girl.’
‘As a matter of interest, who among your party did you know?’ asked Fidelma caustically.
The eyes narrowed and darkened again.
‘It depends on what degree of knowledge you mean when you use the word “know”?’
‘What meaning would you give to it?’ Fidelma shot back in frustration.
‘I would give various meanings. And now I think that we have wasted enough time on this matter.’
She turned and left. Fidelma remembered a game that she used to play as a child. A number of apples were floated on top of a barrel filled with water. The intention was to pick up as many apples as possible without using one’s hands. This game of extracting information from Sister Ainder was like that game. It seemed to be based on the same principle.
Fidelma was left feeling utterly confounded. She could not remember anyone getting the better of her questioning before, or answering in such a way that she learned absolutely nothing. She stood breathing deeply for a moment or two, feeling rather like a young student who had been soundly trounced by in a debate with Brehon Morann. Well, if there was one thing Morann had taught her, it was not to give up at the first blank wall she encountered.
She made her way below deck again and went into the mess-deck in search of the other pilgrims. At first she thought the big cabin was deserted but then she saw a shadow in the corner bending over something. Fidelma cleared her throat noisily.
The hooded figure sprang up, swinging round, with cat-like agility. The cowled hood fell away from the face and revealed Sister Crella. The broad-faced young woman looked red-eyed, as if she had been crying.
‘I am sorry that I frightened you, Sister.’ Fidelma smiled reassuringly.
‘I thought … I did not hear you come in.’
‘With the creaks and groans of this vessel, you would have to possess good hearing to isolate the sound of footsteps,’ Fidelma observed. ‘I should have made my presence known but I thought this place was deserted.’
‘I had dropped something in the corner here and was searching for it.’
‘Can I help you?’ Fidelma looked towards the dim lamp that still spluttered on the table.
‘No,’ Sister Crella replied quickly, apparently having recovered
from her fright. ‘I thought I dropped it here but I must have left it back in my cabin. It is of no consequence.’
Fidelma regarded her slightly antagonistic expression thoughtfully.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Do you have time to talk with me for a moment?’
Crella’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.
‘Talk about what?’
‘About Sister Muirgel.’
‘I suppose you mean about the matter of the service? I shall not apologise. Brother Bairne was always jealous and stupid.’
‘Why would he quote from the Book of Hosea? It seemed a strange thing to do at such a ceremony.’
Crella sniffed in annoyance.
‘ … “For a spirit of wantonness has led them astray and in their lusts they are unfaithful to their God”,’ she recited. ‘I know the passage well. Brother Bairne was jealous that Muirgel and I were found attractive by men as we were attracted to certain men. That is all. He disapproved of it.’
‘I gather that he was not one of the men to whom you were attracted?’
Crella actually laughed sharply.
‘Decidedly not.’
‘Did the same dislike of Bairne apply for Sister Muirgel?’
‘Of course. We both considered Bairne a boor. And now, if that is all … ?
‘Not exactly. The main subject I wanted to talk to you about is the tragic loss of Sister Muirgel.’
Crella sat down abruptly at the table. Fidelma lowered herself to the bench opposite her. Clearly now, in the light of the lamp, Fidelma could see that the young woman had, indeed, been crying.
‘I think you mentioned at breakfast that Sister Muirgel was your cousin,’ she prompted gently.
‘
And
my closest companion,’ affirmed the girl vehemently, as if it was a matter being disputed.
Fidelma reached forward and laid a sympathetic hand on Crella’s arm.
‘I have been asked by the captain to make some enquiries. You see, under law, he has to present a report about Sister Muirgel’s death to the legal authorities at his home port, otherwise her family may take action against him for negligence.’
Crella’s eyes widened innocently.
‘But I am of her family and I know that Murchad was not to blame for her death.’
‘Well, Murchad has to show that in law. Otherwise, no matter the good intentions of yourself, one of her closer family might claim her honour price. Her father, for example, or her brother. As I am a lawyer, he has requested me to ask a few questions and make up the report for him.’
Crella made a sound halfway between a sniff and a sigh.
‘I do not know anything. I was in my bunk all night, scared to death to even move during the storm.’
‘Of course. Rather, I wanted to ask for some background details. You say that you were Sister Muirgel’s cousin and closest companion? Then you will be able to tell me something of her family.’
Crella seemed reluctant. She regarded Fidelma somewhat warily.
‘We are from the Abbey of Moville. It stands at the head of Loch Cúan. It was founded a hundred years ago by the Blessed Finnian. Colmcille trained there and it is now one of the most celebrated ecclesiastical colleges in the country.’
‘I know of it,’ Fidelma acknowledged. ‘So, you were both members of the community of Moville.’
‘We were cousins. Our fathers were of the chiefly family Dál Fiatach.’
Fidelma looked at her sharply.
‘The Dál Fiatach whose lands include Moville?’
‘And the great Abbey of Bangor,’ Crella added almost proudly. ‘The Dál Fiatach territory is one of the largest sub-kingdoms of Ulaidh.’
‘I see. So Sister Muirgel …’
‘ … would have a high honour price.’ Sister Crella anticipated the question. ‘Seven cumals.’
Fidelma was surprised by the girl’s knowledge.
‘You clearly know your honour prices.’ The sum was equivalent to the value of twenty-one milch cows.
‘Muirgel’s father was chief of the territory and my father was his tanist or heir-apparent. We were raised knowing such things,’ the girl explained.
‘So what made you enter the religious life?’
Sister Crella hesitated only for a moment and then spread her arms in an encompassing gesture.
‘Muirgel. It was Muirgel who suggested it. We had brothers and sisters at home and Muirgel thought it would be good to leave home to study.’
‘How old was Muirgel?’
‘The same as I. Twenty years old.’
‘When did you enter the Abbey of Moville?’
‘When we were sixteen.’
‘Why did you come on this pilgrimage?’
Sister Crella began: ‘It was …’ Then she stopped as if a thought struck her.
Fidelma smiled encouragingly.
‘It was also Muirgel’s idea?’ she guessed.
Sister Crella nodded.
‘Did you always follow Muirgel?’
Crella was on the defensive again.
‘We were always very close. She was more like a sister than a cousin. We were always together.’
Fidelma leant back, fingers drumming unconsciously on the table.
‘Why weren’t you sharing a cabin with Muirgel on this voyage?’
Crella was confused.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I was just wondering. If you and Muirgel were so close, and you came on this voyage because it was her idea, I would have expected you to be sharing a cabin when the need arose for people to share cabins. When I came on board I was initially asked to share a cabin with her.’
‘Oh, I see. I had promised Sister Canair to share with her because she was frightened. She had never been on a sea voyage before.’
‘I see. But Sister Canair did not come aboard, did she? She missed the sailing time.’
Sister Crella looked troubled.
‘She was the leader of our band of pilgrims. She was from Moville as well and a good friend of ours.’
‘Any idea why she would have led you to Ardmore and then missed the sailing time?’
‘None. I was still fully expecting her to be on board when we sailed, that was why I was in one cabin and Muirgel was in another.’
‘How many of you were from Moville?’
‘Dathal, Adamrae, Cian and Tola were all from Bangor. The rest of us were from Moville.’
‘I gather that there was a Sister who died almost as soon as you set out?’
‘Old Sister Sibán? She was very aged. We had not even left the territory of Dál Fiatach when she collapsed and died. She was from Moville.’
‘So twelve of you set out on this journey?’
‘Now there are nine of us left.’
‘Why do you think that Sister Canair did not join you? If she had travelled from Moville all the way to Ardmore with you, why would she stop there?’
Crella gave a quick, nervous shrug.
‘Who knows? Perhaps she was afraid of the sea or perhaps she grew tired of our company.’
Fidelma knew instinctively that Sister Crella did not believe the reasons she was putting forward. She decided not to press the matter but to return to the subject of Muirgel’s disappearance.
‘When did you last see your cousin?’
‘Soon after the storm started – I am not sure of the hour. The sky had grown quite dark. I looked in to see if I could bring her something to comfort her. Or, as now we knew that Canair was not on board, whether she wanted me to move into her cabin with her. She had been confined to the cabin as soon as we came on board.’
‘And did she?’
‘Did she what?’ Sister Crella did not follow what Fidelma meant for the moment.
‘Did Muirgel want you to move into the cabin with her?’
The girl hesitated for a moment and then shook her head.
‘She did not. She said she wanted to be left alone.’
‘Were you surprised by that?’ Fidelma asked quickly.
Sister Crella flushed and thought a moment as if wanting to frame the reply carefully.
‘We are young women. Sometimes it is … inconvenient to share a room or cabin.’
Fidelma considered the reply and decided not to follow it through at that moment. She would soon find out if Crella’s obvious suspicion was correct or not. But if Muirgel was expecting the company of a male companion during the storm, it certainly did not fit with her being sick.
‘How was Sister Muirgel when you saw her?’ she asked next.
‘She was still weak and ill. I have never known her go down with seasickness before.’
‘Has she travelled by sea before?’
‘We have made several journeys to Iona but Muirgel was never sick once.’
‘You were in the next cabin to her, weren’t you?’
‘I was.’
‘But you did not go to see how she was when the storm broke.’
‘I was too scared.’
‘Imagine how she felt, sick as she was.’
‘I was feeling ill myself,’ Crella protested. ‘Are you saying that I should have risen from my bunk and tried to go to her cabin? That I might have been able to have prevented her going on deck, stopped her from being washed overboard?’ Her voice rose querulously.
‘I would not suggest that. And I think what you are saying to me is that you suspected that Muirgel was not so ill as she claimed and, indeed, was expecting someone.’
Crella’s chin rose as if she were about to utter a denial. Then she let her head drop. She did not say anything.
‘Do you know who Muirgel’s boyfriends were? Are you sure it was not Brother Bairne?’
‘Bairne?’ Crella replied with an awkward laugh. ‘I told you that he would be the last person that Muirgel would be interested in. There was …’ She hesitated.
‘Yes?’ Fidelma encouraged.
‘Well, Brother Cian is a friend of yours …’
It was Fidelma’s turn to flush.
‘He is not! I knew him ten years ago at Tara and have not seen him since, until I set foot on this ship. Anyway, what about Cian?’

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