âI am not here to suggest things, Rumann,' snapped Fidelma, irritated by the steward's complacency. âI am here to investigate.'
The portly religieux sat back abruptly and swallowed. He was unused to being snapped at.
Fidelma, for her part, immediately regretted her irritation and secretly admitted that the steward could hardly have acted otherwise. What grounds were there to have held AssÃd of the Uà Dego? None. However, the identity of the person who had taken the news of Dacán's murder to Fearna was now obvious.
âThis AssÃd,' began Fidelma again, speaking in a more amicable tone, âwhat makes you so sure that he was a merchant?'
Rumann screwed up his features in a meaningless grimace.
âWho else but merchants travel our coastline in
barca
and seek hospitality in our hostels? He was not unusual. We often get merchants like him.'
âPresumably his crew stayed on board the
barc
?'
âI believe they did. They certainly did not stay here.'
âOne wonders, therefore, why he did not also stay on board but sought a night's lodging here?' mused Fidelma. âWhich chamber did he occupy?'
âThe one currently occupied by Sister Eisten.'
âDid he know Dacán?'
âI think so. Yes, I do recall that they greeted one another in
friendly fashion. That was on the evening that AssÃd arrived. That was natural, I suppose, both men being from Laigin.'
Fidelma suppressed her annoyance. How could she solve this mystery when her principal witness had left the scene? Already she felt an overwhelming sense of frustration.
âDid you not question AssÃd later about his relationship with Dacán?'
Rumann looked pained and shook his head.
âWhy should his relationship to Dacán be of interest to me?'
âBut you said they greeted one another in friendship, implying that they knew one another and not by reputation.'
âI saw no reason to ask whether AssÃd was a friend of Dacán.'
âHow else would you find the killer than by asking such questions?' Fidelma demanded sourly.
âI am not a
dálaigh
,' retorted Rumann, indignantly. âI was asked to make an inquiry how Dacán came to be killed in our hostel, not to conduct a legal investigation.'
There was some truth to this. Rumann was not trained to investigate. Fidelma was contrite.
âI am sorry,' she apologised. âJust tell me as much as you know with regard to this man, AssÃd.'
âHe arrived on the day before Dacán was killed and left as I have told you, on that day. He sought lodging for the night. His
barc
anchored in the inlet and was presumably engaged in trading. This is all I know.'
âVery well. And there was no one else in the hostel at the time?'
âNo.'
âIs access to the hostel easy from any part of the abbey buildings?'
âAs you have seen, sister, there are no restrictions within the abbey walls.'
âSo any one of the many hundreds of students as well as the religious here could have entered and killed Dacán?'
âThey could,' Rumann admitted without hesitation.
âWas anyone particularly close to Dacán during his stay here? Did he have particular friends either among the religious or students?'
âNo one was really friendly to him. Not even the abbot. The Venerable Dacán was a man who kept everyone at a distance. Not friendly, at all. Ascetic and indifferent to worldly values. I like to relax some evenings with a board game,
brandubh
or
fidchell.
I invited him to engage in a game or two and was dismissed as if I had suggested indulgence in a blasphemous thing.'
This, at least, Fidelma thought, was a common point of agreement among those she had questioned about the Venerable Dacan. He was not a friendly soul.
âThere was no one at all with whom he spoke more than any other person in the abbey?'
Rumann shrugged eloquently.
âUnless you count our librarian, Sister Grella. That, I presume, was because he did much research in the library.'
Fidelma nodded thoughtfully.
âAh yes, I have heard that he was at Ros Ailithir to study certain texts. I will see this Sister Grella later.'
âOf course, he also taught,' Rumann added. âHe taught history.'
âCan you tell me who were his students?'
âNo. You would have to speak to our
fer-leginn,
our chief professor, Brother Ségán. Brother Ségán has control of all matters pertaining to the studies here. That is, under Abbot Brocc, of course.'
âPresumably, in pursuit of his studies, the Venerable Dacán must have written considerably?'
âI would presume so,' Rumann replied diffidently. âI often saw him carrying manuscripts and, of course, his wax writing tablets. He was never without the latter.'
âThen,' Fidelma paused to lend emphasis to her question,
âwhy are there are no manuscripts nor used tablets in his chamber?'
Brother Rumann gazed blankly at her.
âAre there not?' he asked in bewilderment.
âNo. There are tablets which have been smoothed clean and vellum which has not been used.'
The house steward shrugged again. The gesture seemed to come naturally to him.
âIt is of surprise to me. Perhaps he stored whatever he wrote in our library. However, I fail to see what this has to do with his death.'
âAnd you had no knowledge of what Dacán was studying?' Fidelma did not bother to reply to his implied question. âDid anyone know why he had come in particular to Ros Ailithir?'
âIt is not my business to pry into the affairs of others. Sufficient that Dacán came with the recommendation of the king of Cashel and his presence was approved of by my abbot. I tried, like others here, to be friendly with him but, as I have said, he was not a friendly man. In truth, sister, perhaps I should confess that there was no mourning in the abbey when Dacan passed into the Otherworld.'
Fidelma leaned forward with interest.
âI was led to believe, in spite of the fact that he was considered austere, that Dacán was widely beloved by the people and revered as a man of great sanctity.'
Brother Rumann pursed his lips cynically.
âI have heard that this is so â and perhaps it is ⦠in Laigin. All I can say is that he was welcomed here at Ros Ailithir but did not reciprocate the warmth of our welcome. So he was generally left to his own devices. Why, even little Sister Necht went in fear of him.'
âShe did? Why so?'
âPresumably because he was a man whose coldness inspired apprehension.'
âI thought his saintly reputation went further than Laigin. In most places, he and his brother Noé are spoken of as one would speak of Colmcille, of Brendan or of Enda.'
âOne may only speak as one finds, sister. Sometimes reputations are not deserved.'
âTell me, this dislike of Dacán â¦'
Brother Rumann shook his head in interruption.
âIndifference, sister. Indifference, not dislike, for there were no grounds to promote such a positive response as dislike.'
Fidelma bowed her head in acknowledgment of the point.
âVery well. Indifference, if you like. In your estimation you do not think it was enough to promote a feeling in someone here to kill him?'
The eyes of the steward narrowed in his fleshy face.
âSomeone here? Are you suggesting that one of our brethren in Ros Ailithir killed him?'
âPerhaps even one of his students who disliked his manner? That has been known.'
âWell, I have never heard of such a thing. A student respects his master.'
âIn ordinary circumstances,' she agreed. âYet we are investigating an extraordinary circumstance. Murder, for that is what we have established, is a most unnatural crime. Whatever path we follow we have to agree that someone in this community must have perpetrated this act. Someone in this community,' she repeated with emphasis.
Brother Rumann regarded her with a solemn face and tight mouth.
âI cannot say further than I have. All I was asked to do, all I did, was investigate the circumstance of his death. What else could I have done? I have not the skills of a
dálaigh
.'
Fidelma spread her hands in a pacifying gesture.
âI imply no criticism, Brother Rumann. You have your office and I have mine. We are faced with a delicate situation,
not merely in terms of solving this crime but in seeking to prevent a war.'
Brother Rumann sniffed loudly.
âIf you ask my opinion, I would not put it past Laigin to have engineered this whole matter. They have appealed time and time again to the High King's assembly at Tara for the return of Osraige. Each time, it has been ruled that Osraige was lawfully part of Muman. Now this.' He stabbed with his hand into the air.
Fidelma examined the steward with interest.
âJust when did you come to such an opinion, Brother Rumann?' she questioned gently.
âI am of the Corco LoÃgde, a man of Muman. When I heard of the honour price that young Fianamail of Laigin was demanding for Dacán's death, I suspected a plot. You were right in the first place.'
Fidelma raised an eyebrow at Rumann's angry features.
âRight? In what respect?'
âThat I should have been suspicious of the merchant, AssÃd. He was probably the assassin and I let him go!'
She gazed at him for a moment then said: âOne thing more, brother. How did you come to know what the demands of Laigin are?'
Rumann blinked. âHow? Why the abbot has spoken of nothing else for days.'
After Brother Rumann had left, Fidelma sat for a while in silence. Then she realised that Cass was still seated waiting for her to speak. She turned and gave him a tired smile.
âCall Sister Necht, Cass.'
A moment later the enthusiastic young sister entered in answer to the ringing of the handbell. It was clear that she had been in the process of scrubbing the floors of the hostel but welcomed the interruption.
âI hear that you went in apprehension of the Venerable Dacan,' Fidelma stated without preamble.
The blood seemed to drain momentarily from Necht's face. She shivered.
âI did,' she admitted.
âWhy?'
âMy duties as a novice in the abbey are to tend to the guests' hostel and take care of the wants of the guests. The Venerable Dacán treated me like a bond-servant. I even asked Brother Rumann if I could be removed from the duties at the hostel for the period that Dacan was staying here.'
âThen you must have disliked him intensely.'
Sister Necht hung her head.
âIt is against the Faith but, the truth is, I did not like him. I did not like him at all.'
âYet you were not removed from your duties?'
Necht shook her head.
âBrother Rumann said that I must accept it as the will of God and through this adversity I would gain in strength to do the Lord's work.'
âYou say that as if you do not believe it,' remarked Fidelma gently.
âI did not gain any strength. It only intensified my dislike. It was a hateful time. The Venerable Dacan would criticise my tidying of his chamber. In the end, I did not bother tidying at all. Then he would send me on errands at all times of the day and night as his fancy took him. I was a slave.'
âSo when he died, you shed no tears?'
âNot I!' declared the sister vehemently. Then, realising what she had said, she flushed. âI meant â¦'
âI think I know what you meant,' Fidelma responded. âTell me, on the night Dacan was killed, were you on duty in the hostel?'
âI was on duty every night. Brother Rumann will have told you. It was my special duty.'
âDid you see Dacan that night.'
âOf course. He and the merchant AssÃd were the only guests here.'
âI have been told that they knew each other?' Fidelma made the observation into a question.
Sister Necht nodded.
âI do not think that they were friends though. I heard AssÃd quarrelling with Dacan after the evening meal.'
âQuarrelling?'
âYes. Dacán had retired to his chamber. He usually took some books to study before the
completa,
the final service of the day. I was passing by his chamber door when I heard voices in argument.'