Read Badger's Moon Online

Authors: Peter Tremayne

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

Badger's Moon (16 page)

BOOK: Badger's Moon
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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.

When she slid from her horse, he greeted her in his accented Irish. ‘Blessings on you, Fidelma of Cashel.’

‘It is not wise to be out alone, Brother Dangila,’ she replied in Greek without preamble. ‘The people are still afraid and we are no closer to resolving the matter of culpability. You should not have strayed beyond the boundaries of the abbey.’

Brother Dangila inclined his head gravely.

‘I thank you for your concern, Fidelma of Cashel,’ he replied, now using Greek. ‘The God of Solomon will watch over me. I do not fear.’

Fidelma looped the reins of her horse around a small shrub, turned to one of the stones which lay lengthwise and seated herself. The tall Aksumite resumed his previous position and regarded her without curiosity.

‘The abbot gave me assurance that you would not wander abroad from the abbey so that your safety would be guaranteed until this matter was resolved.’ she said irritably.

‘Is it solely in concern for my safety that you have come seeking me?’ he asked. There was a faint smile on his lips, which seemed to imply a hidden knowledge. For a moment, Fidelma felt awkward. Her eyes suddenly focused on his white woollen robe.

‘You are not wearing your beautiful silver crucifix today,’ she observed.

Brother Dangila’s hand went immediately to his neck. He hesitated and then he nodded gravely. ‘I must have left it in the dormitory. Have no fear. It will be safe, for I believe I know where I left it. As I said, is it concern for me that has brought you hither?’

‘It is true that I wanted to speak to you anyway. So much was left unsaid when we last spoke.’

An eyebrow lifted in interrogation was the only motion of the man’s features that indicated a reaction.

‘Are these the stones called the Ring of Pigs?’ she asked.

‘I believe that is the local name for them,’ replied the other gravely. ‘The stones do look like a litter of piglets around a sow.’

‘And this is where…?’ She left the question unfinished.

‘So I am told.’

She waited a few moments and when the man did not speak she asked: ‘Do you often come to sit on this hillside and meditate?’

‘It is in the nature of my people to contemplate the works of the God of Solomon from whose seed my people descended,’ replied Brother Dangila. ‘Is it not written in the Book of Psalms – “When I look up at Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars set in their place by Thee, what is man that Thou should remember him?”?’

The words of the psalm sounded beautiful in his Greek.

‘So you come at night to look upon the moon and the stars?’ she countered quickly, trying not to get diverted.

Brother Dangila glanced at her with a smile. ‘You have a quick mind, Fidelma of Cashel.’

‘I presume that you were the one seen by Brocc that night?’

‘Have I admitted as much? Whoever Brocc saw, he must identify. Until he does, there is no more to be said.’

‘He is not able. You know that as well as I. What troubles me is that Escrach’s body was found close by here the next day, and before that the body of a girl called Beccnat.’

‘I give you my word that I did not kill them,’ came the quiet tone of the other.

‘Let us make a hypothesis then.’

‘Which is?’

‘Brocc concludes that someone sitting looking up at the night sky was probably doing so for a sinister purpose, especially on the night of the full moon, and especially on the night when a young girl, his niece, was killed.’

‘What stirs this man Brocc’s thoughts is that which is within him,’ replied Brother Dangila. ‘I am not responsible for what thoughts he has.’

‘You might contend, though, that there is another, innocent explanation. Let us continue to hypothesise and see what innocent explanation there can be.’

The Aksumite reflected for a moment in silence and then shrugged. ‘Let us say that the man might have been someone like myself, sitting gazing at God’s creation, and measuring the stars in their journeying across the heavens. His concern was what happened in the sky and not what happened on the earth. He might argue that he heard and saw nothing and, after a while, he went his way – in innocent ignorance of any evil-doing.’

‘You and your comrades are much concerned with the passage of the stars across the heavens?’

‘It is an ancient science, Fidelma of Cashel. Your people are adept at it, or so we have discovered. It may be – and we shall continue to hypothesise,’ he interspered with a smile, ‘it may be that what we have read in your ancient books, we might like to check with the practicality of the star map that God provides at night.’

‘Were you always a contemplative religieux?’ she asked abruptly.

For the first time the features of the Aksumite dissolved in a broad grin.

‘I was thirty when I decided to join the religieux and thirty-three when I was enslaved and sent to Rome.’

‘What were you before?’

‘I worked in the great gold mines – King Solomon’s mines.’

‘Gold mines?’

‘In the shadow of Ras Dashen, our highest peak,’ confirmed Brother Dangila. ‘It was from Aksum that the great treasure temples of Solomon were supplied and King Solomon’s fabulous wealth was accumulated. Menellk, the son of Solomon by the Queen of Sheba, became our ruler. Our mines still supply the wealth of Aksum. My father was a mineworker and I followed him in his work. But I was not satisfied, and from one of the Holy Fathers who lived on the slopes of Ras Dashen I learnt more than how to spot a rich vein of gold or copper. I learnt Greek and a few words of Latin and I read some of the holy texts. I left the mountains and went to Adulis and the rest I have told you.’

Fidelma was thoughtful, ‘I would like to know exactly how all three of you decided to come to the abbey of Finnbarr.’

‘I thought I had told you. The answer is simple. The abbey holds the works of your scholar Aibhistín and we wanted to study them, having seen references to his work in other tracts.’

‘Indeed, you have told me this before. How did you know that they were here?’

‘At the house of Molaga we learnt much about your culture and the fact that you, too, were fascinated by the courses of the stars in the heavens. Exactly as I say, we saw references to Aibhistín’s work. By some happy coincidence, a man from this place was staying in the house of Molaga and we spoke with him. It was he who persuaded us to come to the abbey.’

‘Oh? Was it one of the religious from the abbey?’ She decided to test out what Brother Túan had told her.

‘It was not,’ Brother Dangila said at once. ‘It was the young man…the prince, I forget what you call him in your own language. Accobrán is his name.’

‘He told you that the works of Aibhistín were held in the abbey?’

‘He did. We owe him much for that information. They are fascinating works, especially the tables on the moon and the tides. I have never seen another treatise that concisely explains the tides in relationship to the phases of the moon.’

Fidelma exhaled softly.

‘You seemed troubled, lady,’ remarked Brother Dangila astutely.

‘If young girls had been slaughtered in your land, Brother Dangila, in the way they have been slaughtered here, would you not also be troubled?’

The tall man inclined his head.

‘It is of little use to you, lady, but I would take an oath by the power of the Ark of the Covenant, which shelters in the nameless holy place of my land…I would take an oath that my comrades and I had nothing to do with these terrible killings in this place. Yet I would say that in my own land, we, too, would be suspicious of strangers in similar circumstances.’

‘An oath is of little use. While I might believe you the people here do not.’

‘They are fearful because the colour of our skin is different.’

‘More important, it is because you are strangers to this place and people are afraid of strangers. Are your own people, in Aksum, not afraid of strangers?’

‘Perhaps some are. Aksum stands at a crossroads of many cultures and many religions, lady. We have learnt to live in harmony with most of our neighbours whatever they look like and whatever language they speak or whatever god or gods they follow.’

‘That surely sounds like an ideal place to dwell,’ agreed Fidelma, a little sarcastically. ‘Yet if you have learnt to live in harmony with all your neighbours, how is it that you were taken, with your fellows, and sold as slaves?’

Brother Dangila shook his head with a slight smile. ‘Even in the Garden of Eden there was a serpent.’

‘There is much wisdom in your words, Brother Dangila.’

‘We are taught in the sayings of Solomon that there are seven things the Lord God hates: a proud eye, a false tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that forges thoughts of mischief, feet that run swiftly to evil, a false witness telling lies, and one who stirs up quarrels between brothers.’

‘Words of wisdom are meaningful in any language,’ agreed Fidelma.

‘One cannot be responsible for the dark thoughts of all one’s brothers and sisters. There are many in Aksum and along the seaports trading in human cargoes. Many owners of slaves are members of the Faith. In our world, Sister, there are many ways of becoming a slave. Sometimes people sell their children to escape debts. Then some people sell themselves into slavery to escape the insecurity of life or to seek a position in life. I was unlucky. My companions and I were kidnapped. Unfortunately we were in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, a bishop of the New Faith in Rome bought us.’

‘Ah, and he tried to set you free?’

Brother Dangila laughed uproariously. ‘He was a slave owner. No freedom for us. He preached the words of Paul of Tarsus to us. “Every man should remain in the condition in which he was called. Were you a slave when you were called? Do not let that trouble you but, even if a chance of liberty should come, choose rather to make use of your servitude.” He only decided to sell us to the Frank when we became too rebellious and attempted to strike for liberty. Perhaps you would like to see our backs where the leather whip lacerated us for our impertinence in believing that we should be free men?’ He acknowledged Fidelma’s momentary look of distaste. ‘I will not inflict the sight on you, Fidelma of Cashel. It is my cross to bear. As I have already told you, that is why we were on the high seas bound for some God-forsaken place called Frankia when the ship foundered and we found refuge on your shore.’

Fidelma was sad. ‘While our law refuses to allow men and women to be bound in servitude, transgressors often lose the rights to be as free men and women. Sometimes, unscrupulous merchants have been known to gather up people and sell them overseas to where the use of slaves is the way of life. I have been to the Saxon kingdoms, to Rome and even to Iberia, so I have seen something of the world beyond these shores. It is not a good world.’

‘You would do well to remember that this land is not separated from the rest of the world but shares the sins of humanity in equal proportion,’ commented Brother Dangila drily.

Fidelma smiled wanly. ‘Well spoken, Brother Dangila. You are right, and you remind me of our frailty and, indeed, of my task. Let us return to the hypothesis that we were discussing.’

BOOK: Badger's Moon
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