Authors: Peter Tremayne

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

Master of Souls (8 page)

BOOK: Master of Souls

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‘So much for the theory of the thief,’ Fidelma observed coldly.

Before Brother Cú Mara could respond, Eadulf emerged at the entrance of the herb garden, hurrying towards them with a triumphant expression. He bore a bundle of clothing in his arms.

‘Success!’ he cried.

He held out two robes. They both bore the unmistakable dark patches of bloodstains.

CHAPTER FOUR

F
idelma rose from the bench to examine the bloodstained robes that Eadulf held out to her.

‘Indeed, it is dried blood and splattered in such quantity that the wearer must have bled profusely or been in contact with someone whose blood has drenched their clothing.’ She gave an appreciative look at Eadulf. ‘Well done. Now, is there a way of finding out the identity of the wearer?’

Brother Cú Mara was staring at the clothes with a curious frown.

‘Did you not ask Sister Sinnchéne?’ he inquired. ‘She is very particular about the washing and would not mix such stained garments with the other clothing for wash.’

Eadulf looked a little crestfallen.

‘I was so agitated by the discovery that I came straightway to inform you, Fidelma. Sister Sinnchéne was not in the
tech-nigid
when I discovered them and so I did not think to ask. They were certainly in a pile set to one side,’ he added defensively to the young steward.

Fidelma reached out a hand to touch Eadulf’s arm.

‘Go now and repair the omission. Seek the identity of the wearer of these garments but do not approach them until I am ready. I see,’ she glanced across the herb garden, ‘Conrí has returned and that must be the merchant with him. I will deal with him and then we will pursue the wearer of these clothes.’

A little downcast, for he realised that he should have discovered the information before coming to Fidelma, Eadulf nodded and went back to the
tech-nigid.

Fidelma turned to watch Conrí approaching with his companion. Mugrón looked more like a sailor than a merchant. He was a stocky man, barrel-chested and walking, arms akimbo, with the rolling gait of
someone more used to being on the swaying deck of a ship than terra firma. He had large hands, sturdy legs, a short neck and a round, florid face set with dark hair that was beginning to streak with silver. His eyes were of a fathomless blue, almost violet.

‘Greetings, Fidelma of Cashel. We have met before.’ He had a deep, rasping voice.

Fidelma frowned, searching her memory but gave up with a shake of her head.

‘I do not recall …’ she began.

The merchant interrupted with a smile.

‘You would not. You were a little girl. I was a young merchant, sailing my ship up the River Siur to the trading post that serves Cashel. Máenach mac Fíngin was king at that time. You and your brother had come down to the quay to see my boat come in.’

Memory came back to her. Her father, King Failbe Flann, had died when she was a baby. She had little memory of her father’s successor, King Cuan, who had also died when she was four or five years of age. But Máenach had been king during most of her childhood until she had been sent away to study under the great Brehon Morann at Tara. She and her brother Colgú had looked upon Maenach as a kindly uncle for he was certainly, in their eyes, old enough to be so, although he was actually their first cousin. He had been the son of Fingín, the elder brother of their father Failbe Flann. He had looked after Fidelma and Colgú well, ensuring that they were properly educated. He had died two years before she had set out for the great Synod at Hilda’s Abbey in Northumbria, and another cousin, Cathal, had taken the throne until he died of the Yellow Plague. Máenach had been the only relative that she could think of in terms of what it must have been like to have a father. And she did remember playing along the banks of the great Siur with her brother and watching the trading boats coming up and down the river.

‘Lady?’

She started and guiltily realised that she had drifted off into the world of her remembrance. She brought herself back to the herb garden and to the gaze of the stocky merchant and Conrí. It was Brother Cú Mara who had spoken.

‘I am sorry,’ she said. ‘I was trying to recall something, but no matter. Come, let us sit awhile, Mugrón. I want you to tell me the story of how you came to find the body of the Abbess Faife.’

She and the merchant seated themselves on the wooden bench while Conrí and the steward took up positions nearby.

‘It was purely by accident,’ the merchant began and then hesitated. ‘I am not sure where to start.’

Fidelma smiled encouragement.

‘Let us start with how you came to be on that road in the land of the Corco Duibhne.’

The merchant paused for a moment as if to gather his thoughts.

‘As you have probably been told, I am the main merchant in this area and dwell on the coast to the south-west of here.’

‘I have been told,’ confirmed Fidelma solemnly.

‘I have several ships and we do good business along this coast and often have commissions to supply goods to the abbeys.’ He paused. ‘Several weeks ago, I set out to trade some goods with the Corco Duibhne. I deal regularly with them.’

‘You set out on foot?’

Mugrón shook his head.

‘The easiest way to transport goods is a short sail from the port of An Bhearbha across the great inlet to the peninsula, which is their territory. In good weather it is a simple run due west, then around a finger of land that pokes up from the peninsula to a group of islands, through these and round into Bréanainn’s Bay. There is a good landing in the bay and that is where many of the merchants of the Corco Duibhne gather. Also it is not a hard climb into the mountains, to Bréanainn’s mount where this abbey keeps a small community at the very spot where the founder—’

‘I know of Bréanainn’s mount,‘interrupted Fidelma, suppressing a sigh of restlessness. ‘So you went to Bréanainn’s Bay on the north side of the peninsula by ship to trade. How was it that you were later on foot on the south side of the peninsula heading eastward away from your ship?’ She hesitated as another thought occurred to her. ‘How was it that the Abbess Faife did not take her charges by this quicker and easier route to Bréanainn’s mount? Why, in the midwinter snows, was she taking her charges on foot on what was surely the longest way to her objective?’

Brother Cú Mara coughed awkwardly.

‘If I might remind you, lady? There were two good reasons. One reason being that her first goal was the abbey of Colman where she had business. It is easier to get there on foot from Ard Fhearta. But she always
followed the original route of the Blessed Bréanainn on his journey to the mountain—’

‘Of course, of course,’ cut in Fidelma sharply. ‘I had forgotten that point for a moment. ‘But it still does not explain why you, Mugrón, should have abandoned your ship for such an arduous route home?’

Mugrón was smiling broadly.

‘As I said, lady, there is no quicker route with fair weather and a westerly wind to bring you from the great bay back to my safe little harbour here. The journey there was fine enough. We had a good breeze blowing off the coast from the east and there were no problems. But not long after we landed and were exchanging cargoes, the winds rose, the snows came down and we were forced to seek shelter close inshore. I had business that would not wait and so I negotiated for a fine horse from a local trader. I left my ship, telling my crew to wait until the weather improved before setting out to return here.

‘I took the route south-west through the mountains to pay my respects to Slébéne, the chieftain of the Corco Duibhne, at his fortress of Daingean. It did not put me out of my way. I could also proceed to the abbey of Colman and conclude some other business. Then the ride home would be easy.’

‘I see. Go on.’

Mugrón massaged his forehead with his fingertips for a moment.

‘Perhaps I should tell you that Brother Maidiu, who is in charge of the community on Bréanainn’s mount, had come down to see me at the ship. We carried supplies for him.’

‘And?’

‘He told me that he was worried as he had been expecting the Abbess Faife and some of her companions. It was the first time that she had not turned up on the day they usually celebrated the enlightenment of the Blessed Bréanainn on the mountain.’

‘So she was already overdue?’

‘She was.’

Fidelma turned to the young steward.

‘How many are there in this community under Brother Maidíu?’

Brother Cú Mara smiled.

‘To call it a community is merely to flatter it, lady. He has no more than three or four Brothers of the Faith who reside on the mountain all year round. It is a cold and harsh environment and only suitable for those who have a vocation for the life.’

‘I see.’ She returned to the merchant. ‘I am sorry. Please continue.’

‘When I had made my mind up to continue on horseback, I told Brother Maidiu that I would look out for Abbess Faife along the road as I was sure that she was on the way but had probably been caught up and delayed by the snows.’

He paused, as if to gather his thoughts again.

‘I left the fortress, An Daingean, and rode along the south coast road eastward towards the abbey of Colmán. It is a long straight track with mountains on one side and the sea’s great inlet on the other. On a pleasant, dry day, it is an easy ride. The abbey of Colman lies about thirty-five or so kilometres from Daingean. I was confident of reaching there before nightfall. The wind was from the south-west, so it was, thanks be, at my back, but the snow was falling thickly and it was causing drifts. I was feeling quite exhausted when I reached the place that is called simply the Island, where, until a short time ago, Uaman, Lord of the Passes, had his fortress. It is in blackened ruins now for the people rose up against him—’

Fidelma nodded quickly.

‘We have heard the story,’ she said. ‘What happened?’

‘Near there is a disused
coirceogach
, a round stone hut, where I have sheltered several times. I thought that I would rest again and try to dry my clothes, keeping out of the snow for a while, rather than press on the remaining distance to the abbey. I had no difficulty locating the place despite the drifting snow, for I had the position of Uaman’s island to guide me.’

‘The
coirceogach
is easy to find,’ added Conrí.

‘What was your first impression?’ queried Fidelma. ‘Were there any signs of disturbance around that you noticed?’

The merchant shook his head.

‘Don’t forget, lady, the snow was coming thick and fast. I saw nothing but a white blanket across the ground. I tried to pull my horse into the shelter of some trees and made towards the entrance of the
coirceogach
. I was aware that I had trodden on something that did not feel right. I don’t know how else to explain it. But it was not hard like ground or rock and when I looked down I saw there was something dark beneath the snow. I scraped away and realised it was a body.’

He paused and passed a hand over his forehead as if to wipe it

‘My first thought was to rebury it but … but then I realised that it
was an odd place to bury a body, just under a layer of snow. My curiosity got the better of me and I removed more snow to see if I could discover any reason for this. As I uncovered the features of the corpse I was horrified. I knew the Abbess Faife well. I saw that a terrible blade wound to her breast had killed her. For a while I stood not knowing what to do. Then I made up my mind. I removed the corpse and carried it behind the stone hut and reburied it under the snow, packing the snow tight.’

‘Why did you do that?’

‘My idea was to preserve the body as best I could. If I left it where it was, someone else might find it. My thought was then to hurry on to Ard Fhearta to report the matter for, as I say, it was clear that she had been murdered.’

‘And you saw nothing else which would give any indication as to why she came by her death? No sign of what might have happened to her companions?’

Mugrón shook his head firmly.

‘I was halfway to the abbey of Colman when I realised about her companions,’ he confessed. ‘But there had been no sign of anyone else. As I have said, the snow lay thick on the ground. It had been snowing on and off for several days.’

‘So there were no other bodies?’

‘Not where I found that of the abbess.’

She looked at him sharply. ‘Does that imply there were other bodies in the vicinity?’

Mugrón nodded. ‘There must have been some wreck along the coast. There was fresh wreckage nearby, floating along the shore, and among it were one or two bodies. There was nothing I could do about them. Remember, I was alone.’

Fidelma sat back and was silent for a few moments. Then she asked: ‘Your first intention was to enter the
coirceogach
and get dry. Did you go in at all?’

The merchant hesitated.

‘I did, but only for a moment.’

‘And there was nothing inside that presented you with any information as to what might have happened?’

BOOK: Master of Souls

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