Hemlock At Vespers (10 page)

Fidelma sat down instead.

“Tell me your story,” she invited. “You are from the village below this settlement?”

“God curse the day that the religious started to build here,” muttered the woman.

“I am told that you are a widow? That you have no children but help the village apothecary. Is this the truth?”

“It is so.”

“Then tell me your story.”

“I was in the forest, gathering herbs and other plants for medications: I heard a cry nearby. I pushed forward to see what I could see. In a small clearing I saw a young religieux lying face down on the ground. On the far side of the clearing the bushes rustled, marking the passage of someone leaving the clearing. I thought I might help the young boy. I knelt down and I saw that it was too late. His skull had been smashed in beyond repair. I automatically picked the rock up that lay near his head; it was covered in blood.

“It was then that I heard a gasp behind me. I turned and saw another young religieux standing at the edge of the clearing staring at me. I scrambled to my feet and fled in terror back to my
bothán.”

Fidelma raised an eyebrow.

“Why would you run in terror when you beheld a young Brother standing there? Surely the natural thing would have been to seek his help?”

Muirenn scowled in annoyance.

“I ran in terror because I thought he was the murderer come back.”

“Why would you think that?” demanded Fidelma. “He was clearly a member of this community.”

“Exactly so. When I first entered the clearing and saw the bushes closing over the retreating figure, I caught a glance of his back. He was wearing the brown robe of a religieux. Moenach was killed by a member of his own community. I did not kill him.”

Outside the cell Father Allán glanced expectantly at Fidelma.

“Do you still wish to see Brother Aedo or have you concluded your investigation?”

Was there eagerness in his voice? He seemed so anxious that she simply endorse his claim that Muirenn was guilty. Fidelma pursed her lips and gazed at him for a moment before replying.

“I have just begun my investigation,” she replied softly. “Tell me, how many Brothers reside in this community?”

“What has that to do … ?” Father Allán bit his tongue as he saw the furrows on her brow deepen and caught the angry flash of fire in her eyes. “There are ten Brothers altogether.”

“Did Brother Moenach have any special companions here?”

“We are all companions of each other,” sniffed the Father Superior. “Companions in the service of Christ.”

“Was he liked equally by everyone in the community?” she tried again.

“Of course,” snapped Father Allán. “And why wouldn’t he be?”

Fidelma suppressed a sigh.

“Has his
cubiculum
been cleared?” she asked, deciding to try another tack.

“I believe so. Brother Ninnedo would know. He is tending the garden there.” He pointed to where the fair-haired young monk was trimming a bush across the grassy slopes. “Come, I will…”

Fidelma held up a hand.

“I can see him. You need not trouble yourself, Father Allán. I will speak to him. I will find you when I am ready. Alert Brother Aedo to my intention to see him after I have spoken to Brother Ninnedo.”

She turned and made her way toward the young man, who was bent industriously to his work.

“Brother Ninnedo?”

The young man glanced up. He looked uncomfortable. His eyes darted toward the disappearing figure of Father Allán behind her.

“I am a
dál
—” Fidelma began to introduce herself.

The young man interrupted before Fidelma could explain.

“You are a
dálaigh.
I know. The community has been expecting you for some days since.”

“Good. And do you know why I am here?”

The young man simply nodded.

“I understand that you shared a
cubiculum
with Brother Moenach. I suppose you knew him well?”

Fidelma was surprised when she saw a positive expression of repugnance cross the young man’s face.

“I knew him well enough.”

“But you did not like him?” she asked quickly.

“I did not say so,” replied Ninnedo defensively.

“You did not have to. Why didn’t you like him? According to Father Allán, this Brother Moenach was little short of a saint.”

Ninnedo laughed bitterly.

“I did not like him because he was an evil person and not fit to serve the Living God. He could fool Father Allán. He could fool many people who were so complacent in office that they did not recognize a fawning sycophant who purposely flattered their vanity. But I and Brother Fogartach had to share a
cubiculum
with him and knew his evil ways.”

Fidelma stood with her head slightly to one side, slightly surprised at the young man’s articulate vehemence.

“How long did you know him?”

“We were fostered together, Sister. A long time.”

“And did you hate him all that time?”

“Mostly.”

“So, tell me, in what way did he manifest evil? You accuse him of being a fawning sycophant. Well, we are all, in some ways, flattering to those in power over us. That hardly constitutes evil.”

Ninnedo pressed his upper teeth against his lower lip, frowning a little, before he spoke.

“Father Allán would have Moenach as a saint. It would do me little good to speak plainly.”

“You are not speaking to Father Allán but a
dálaigh
of the courts. Speak only the truth and by truth you shall be rewarded.”

Ninnedo shifted uneasily at her sharp tone.

“Very well, Sister. Moenach was a liar, a thief and a lecher.”

Fidelma raised her eyebrows.

“If so, how could he disguise such vices from Father Allán?”

“He had the look of a cherub and could speak sweetly when the need arose. Often people cannot see beyond appearances. And he had an ability to make sweet music. He could fool people. But now and then that mask of innocence would slip. He was evil.”

“Can you cite proof, for hearsay evidence is inadmissible under the law.”

“Proof? He would steal anything he coveted. He stole from me and he stole from Brother Nath. Why, there used to be a Brother Follamon in our community until a few months ago. Moenach coveted a bejewelled cup belonging to Father Allán. He could not control his desires and he stole it. Father Allán launched a search for it. Moenach realized that he could not get away with the theft so he planted it in the cot of Brother Follamon so that it would be found and blame placed on him.”

“What happened?”

“Father Allán simply had Follamon expelled from the community.”

“Why wasn’t Moenach reported to the Father? If you knew and Brother Nath knew, why didn’t Father Allán accept your evidence?”

Ninnedo laughed again. There was no humor in his voice.

“You do not realize just how entrenched is the good Father’s belief in Moenach. Nath told him, for Nath knew what had happened. Father Allán simply accused Nath of jealousy and threatened his expulsion as well.”

“But Moenach’s position could not be maintained simply by Father Allán’s prejudice alone? There must be others who agreed with Father Allán’s views?”

Ninnedo sniffed bitterly.

“Oh yes. Moenach fooled some of the Brothers. That fool Aedo, for example.”

“Aedo who discovered the body with the old woman Muirenn kneeling by it?”

“The same. He was so shocked and prostrate by grief that, when he arrived back here with the news of what he had seen, he took to his bed for several days.”

“So? Aedo did not accompany Father Allán and the Brothers in search for Muirenn?”

“He did not.”

“And apart from some of these Brothers, Moenach fooled other people as well?”

“He had the same influence with many local chieftains and even abbots.”

“But you and Nath recognized him as evil?”

“We were fostered with him. We knew his ways, Sister. In fact, he seemed to delight in our knowing how he was fooling people like the Father Superior. He would challenge us to report him, knowing full well that we would not be believed.”

“Did you not support Nath against Father Allán?”

“Little use that was,” sniffed Ninnedo.

There came the sound of a distant bell.

“I must go,” Ninnedo said and moved off rapidly.

Fidelma stood for a moment watching him stride away and then she turned in search of Father Allán.

“You did not tell me that Moenach was not well liked by everyone.”

The Father Superior stared angrily.

“Who did not like him?” he demanded. “Ninnedo, I suppose?”

“I also speak of Brother Nath.”

“Nath!” Father Allán’s mouth drooped. “So Ninnedo told you of that matter?”

Fidelma did not reply.

“Sister Fidelma, you know as well as I, that in spite of our vows and dedication to the service of the Living God, we do not suddenly become more than human, nor do we become incorrupt.”

“What are you saying?”

“That I am aware of the accusations of Nath and Ninnedo. I have known them for many years, ever since they came here to be fostered with Moenach. They all grew up together but as men sometimes take a dislike for each other, so too with boys. I knew of their jealousies and dislike of Moenach.”

“Yes? And to what reason did you attribute it?”

“Who knows? When a boy is as talented and pure as Moenach, he will have many enemies.”

“And are you so sure that their accusations were unfounded?”

“I knew Moenach since he was seven years old. He was beyond reproach.”

“Although you do admit that none of us are incorruptible?” Fidelma could not help the sarcastic thrust.

Father Allán did not rise to the bait.

“Moenach was someone special. It was a great pain for me to see Nath’s jealousy.”

“I want to talk to Brother Nath.”

Father Allán gestured awkwardly.

“But he … he has absconded. Did Ninnedo not mention this to you?”

Fidelma gazed blankly at him for a moment.

“Nath has disappeared?”

“Yes. No one has seen him for the last week.”

Fidelma caught her breath to suppress a surge of anger.

“Are you telling me that Brother Nath disappeared a week ago? And it was a week ago that Brother Moenach was murdered. Why was I not informed of this before?”

Father Allán’s face whitened.

“But Muirenn slew Moenach. Why would you be interested in a headstrong young man who has slunk away from the community?”

“Why was I not informed about this?” repeated Fidelma. “Has any investigation been made into what has happened to Nath?”

Father Allán shrugged helplessly.

“He broke his vows and absconded. That is all.”

“Tell Brother Ninnedo to join me at once.”

Father Allán blinked, hesitated and moved off.

Ninnedo arrived with surly face. Father Allán stood behind him, watching anxiously.

“I want the full truth, Ninnedo,” Fidelma told him. “And I want it now.”

“I have spoken the truth.”

“Yet you did not tell me that your friend Nath has been missing since the day of the killing of Moenach.”

Ninnedo blanched but contrived a stubborn expression.

“Are you accusing him of killing Moenach and running off?” he muttered. “Everyone says Muirenn slew Moenach.”

“It is my role to find out the truth. Do you know where Nath is?”

Ninnedo stared at her. It was the young Brother who dropped his eyes first. He shook his head.

“Speak to Ainder, the daughter of Illand,” he muttered.

“Who is Ainder?” Fidelma asked.

Father Allán moved uneasily from one foot to another.

“Ainder is a young girl of the village who washes the clothes of the community. She lives with her father, Illand, who oversees our gardens.”

Fidelma turned her gaze back to Brother Ninnedo.

“Why should I speak with this Ainder?”

“It is not my place to anticipate what she will say to you,” the young man replied spiritedly, attempting to copy Fidelma’s style.

Fidelma stared at Ninnedo’s stubborn features and sighed.

“Where will I find this Ainder?”

“The
bothán
of Illand is at the bottom of the hill,” interrupted the Father Superior. “Seek her there, Sister Fidelma.”

She decided to ask Brother Aedo to accompany her in order to show her the spot where Moenach was killed and to confirm his story of the finding of the body. He was a simple ingenuous youth and had nothing else to add. He confirmed that he had been so distressed on his return to the community that he could do no more than report the matter to the Father Superior before becoming incapacitated by a surfeit of emotion. Father Allán and three other Brothers had left immediately to find Moenach and search for the woman Muirenn. Fidelma, looking round the small clearing, did not expect to find anything to assist her at the site. Nevertheless, it helped to fix the location of the crime in her mind. Without Brother Aedo’s help, it would have been impossible to pinpoint the exact spot for there were many such little clearings amidst the great forest. She bade Aedo return to the hilltop community and continued on down the hill.

There was a small cabin at the bottom of the hill as Father Allán had said. A line of freshly laundered clerical robes were hanging to dry on a rope line strung between two trees. An elderly but sturdily built man was picking apples from one of the trees. He turned and watched suspiciously as Fidelma approached.

“Is this the home of Ainder, daughter of Illand?”

“I am Illand,” replied the man. “My daughter is inside.”

“I am Fidelma of Kildare. I wish to speak with your daughter.”

The man hesitated before gesturing toward the cabin.

“You are welcome, Fidelma. But my daughter is not well…”

“But well enough to see the Sister,” interrupted a soft soprano voice.

A young girl, fair-haired and slim, and no more than fourteen years of age, stood framed in the doorway of the cabin.

“Please, Father,” the girl said with hurried insistence before he could argue. “I am at the age of choice.”

Fidelma glanced carefully at her, wondering why the girl had to point out her right to make her own decision.