Penance of the Damned (Sister Fidelma)

by Peter Tremayne

‘Conrí told me that you were interested in the key of Abbot Ségdae’s chamber. It was found by Lachtna when they broke in. It was lying on the floor, which was proof that the door had been secured from the inside.’

  ‘So I am told.’

  Brehon Faolchair fumbled in his bossán, the pouch he wore at his waist, drew out a bronze key and offered it to her.

  ‘This is the key to the abbot’s chamber. Lachtna and Brother Tuamán confirm that it was found inside the room.’

  Fidelma took it and turned it over. It was unremarkable. Keys and locks were common enough and certainly varied in design thanks to the mastery of the locksmiths, who often chose between bronze and iron to make their locks and keys.

  To the obvious surprise of Brehon Faolchair, she closed a hand around the key and said: ‘Forgive me if I keep this for just a short while until I check that it does fit in the lock.’

  ‘You have my word it fits the lock,’ he said, and bridled a little.

  ‘I do not doubt your word, but first-hand knowledge is always better.’

  The Brehon gave a snort and turned away, saying; ‘It will soon be time for the midday meal. A bell will ring. You will find me at that time in the great hall.’

  Eadulf seemed as eager as she was to retrace their steps back to the guest-hostel, Fidelma noticed. Her reason was that it would be a good opportunity to try the key, but she wondered why he was so keen. This time there was no guard outside the building and so they entered freely. Brother Tuamán was still there, apparently just leaving the building. He seemed surprised to see them again.

  ‘You seek me, lady?’

  Fidelma shook her head. ‘I just needed to check something. We will not detain you.’

  The steward hovered uncertainly as Fidelma and Eadulf quickly climbed up to the next storey. Eadulf waited as she inserted the key into the damaged lock. It fitted and even turned easily, for it was only the wood around the lock, where it had been fitted to the door, which was splintered.

  Eadulf was suddenly aware that Brother Tuamán had followed them up the stairs and was watching them with curiosity.

  ‘Are you sure you do not need my help?’ he enquired when he saw that Eadulf had spotted him.

  ‘We don’t want to delay you when you were so obviously leaving,’ Eadulf replied pointedly.

  The man hesitated before turning and descending the stairs. Eadulf looked round to find that Fidelma had already entered the chamber and was bending to pick up the key from a spot behind the door.

  She looked up and told Eadulf: ‘I just wanted to check the position where Lachtna said that he had found the key when they burst into the chamber.’

  As she straightened up, Eadulf placed a finger against his lips and nodded to the chamber that was used by Prior Cuán. He moved across and cautiously opened the door. Fidelma followed him with a puzzled frown. Eadulf entered and gestured to the abbot’s staff which stood in a corner, still resting against the wall.

  ‘I cannot accept that this was the weapon that knocked out Gormán,’ he whispered, ‘or inflicted the wound described by Airmid just now.’

  ‘Why not?’ Fidelma asked.

  Eadulf took the staff and indicated the heavy silver crucifix at the top.

  ‘If the abbot had struck Gormán with this staff, the sharpness of the metal would have lacerated his skin. There would have been a great deal of blood and the wound would have been noticeable and needed treatment. No one has mentioned bloodshed. The physician said it was merely a bruise, an abrasion but not a wound.’

  ‘Maybe the blow could have been delivered with the wooden shaft?’ Fidelma suggested.

  ‘Had it been so, this staff would not have been sufficient to knock senseless a warrior like Gormán.’

  ‘Because?’ queried Fidelma, peering closely at the wooden staff. She realised what he meant even before he explained.

  ‘The wood of the staff is a thin yew and would have shown some degree of damage from such an impact. To knock Gormán out would have taken something harder – perhaps a cudgel or a stick.’

  By the time they descended to the lower floor, it seemed that Brother Tuamán had departed. Eadulf saw that Fidelma was deep in thought so he did not speak as they walked back towards the main building of the fortress. It was only when a bell rang out briefly that Eadulf broke the silence.

  ‘Where now?’ he asked. ‘Should we not go to see Gormán?’

  To his surprise, Fidelma shook her head, glancing towards the sun. ‘I think that was the bell for the etar-shod, the midday meal. We will attend to that before we speak with Gormán. I need a little more time to digest things.’

  ‘It does not look good for him, does it?’ Eadulf sighed.

  ‘There are some things that need more consideration,’ she replied in a solemn tone. ‘Several questions that need an answer.’

  ‘We spoke about a lack of motivation,’ Eadulf said. ‘That is a matter we must pursue with Gormán after we have had our meal.’

  ‘He does not admit to the act, let alone confess to a motivation,’ Fidelma said rather impatiently.

  ‘You misunderstand. I meant that …’ But Eadulf realised that he did not know what he meant, only that he felt at a loss; unable to see any other explanation.

  Several of the household and guests were assembled in the great hall and were sitting down to the light midday meal. Fidelma went to Brehon Faolchair and handed him back the key with a smile of thanks before she joined Eadulf and they seated themselves at the table. Prince Donennach was absent, as was his sister. But Abbot Nannid and his steward were there, along with Prior Cuán. Conrí entered and seated himself beside Fidelma.

  ‘How is the investigation proceeding, lady?’ he asked in a hopeful tone but lowering his voice so that Abbot Nannid at the far end of the table did not hear.

  ‘Slow and difficult,’ she confessed.

  ‘Was Airmid helpful?’

  ‘So far as she was able.’

  ‘She is a handsome woman, is she not?’ he sighed. ‘Alas, she is too involved in the healing arts to take notice of the warlord of her people.’ There was more than a touch of regret in Conrí’s voice.

  ‘I thought as heir-apparent to Donennach that she was deeply involved in governance as well as her medical work?’

  ‘Not really. The Uí Fidgente bloodline of Óengus survives only in Donennach and his sister. Most of them were killed when Eóganán and his evil family declared themselves rulers. They were almost wiped out, as you know, when your brother defeated and slew Eóganán on Cnoc Áine. Donennach became ruler as a popular choice. There was no one of consequence to name as his heir-apparent but Airmid. She says it will only be temporary until Donennach’s son Ercc grows to manhood and proves himself worthy to take over. Ercc is undergoing his education among the Corco Duibhne and not yet at the age of choice.’

  ‘What if Airmid marries and has her own children?’ asked Eadulf.

  Conrí’s smile grew bitter. ‘She says that one bad marriage was enough for her.’

  ‘Then she has been married?’

  ‘Many years back,’ he said. ‘Donennach and the family disapproved of the choice, for the man was unworthy. However, Airmid is a determined woman and she had to find out the hard way. Donennach was trying to get her to divorce the man.’

  ‘On what grounds?’

  ‘Oh, that he beat her. She once appeared with a blemish on her face where he had struck her. Donennach ordered her to take her coibhe, the dowry, and leave, demanding full compensation according to law.’

  ‘And did she?’

  ‘It was unnecessary, for the husband was then reported killed at the battle of Cnoc Áine, but—’

  He was cut short by a guard entering the great hall together with Enda, who was looking strangely agitated. There was something in his stance that caused the warlord to excuse himself, then rise and hasten over to him. Conrí bent his head to listen to the guard’s urgent whispering. Fidelma saw a worried expression cross the warlord’s features
and he turned towards Brehon Faolchair and beckoned to him. The Brehon immediately rose and went to join the warlord. It was clear that something had happened.

  Brehon Faolchair stood still for a moment listening, his face a mirror of the warlord’s grim expression. Then he shook his head from side to side as if in disbelief as he returned to the table.

  ‘A problem?’ queried Prior Cuán, looking up.

  Brehon Faolchair looked straight towards Fidelma, addressing her with a voice that was now very grave.

  ‘I am afraid that the attempt to buy time with a new investigation of Abbot Ségdae’s murder has come to nothing, lady,’ he said tightly. ‘There can be no point in renewing the hearing, for Gormán has now demonstrated his complete guilt.’

  Fidelma felt apprehensive as she returned the Brehon’s angry gaze. ‘What has happened?’ she asked.

  ‘Gormán has escaped from his cell and fled the fortress with the woman, Aibell.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  After Brehon Faolchair and Conrí had left the great hall and the clamour that had greeted the Brehon’s outburst had subsided, Fidelma asked Enda what exactly had taken place.

  ‘It is very confusing.’ It was unusual for her to see the phlegmatic young man so utterly at a loss. ‘This morning, as you know, I went with Ciarnat and saw Aibell to pass on your message. We were then allowed to visit Gormán in his cell. It was true that he and Aibell had been fretting because you had not visited or contacted them since our arrival. Gormán was morose, of course, but seemed thankful when I gave him your message and assured him that you were doing everything to help him.’

  ‘So what has gone wrong?’ Eadulf demanded.

  ‘I don’t know. Gormán was vehement that he was innocent but relieved that matters were now in your hands; he was anxious to speak with you. After that, Ciarnat and I left him. I did not bother to come and find you afterwards as there was no need. Your message had been passed on. I went to the barracks and was chatting to some of the warriors there. You can learn much in a barracks when warriors are relaxing and speaking freely.’

  ‘Probably so,’ Eadulf agreed. ‘But when did you learn about the escape?’

  ‘Just now. I was in the barracks when a guard came in looking as if he had been in a fight. I recognised him as the guard from the prison. He shouted that the prisoner had escaped. Some of the men leaped to their feet and went haring off to give chase. I could not believe the guard meant Gormán, so I asked him what had happened. As he helped himself to a jug of corma, he told me that the prisoner’s woman, Aibell, had come with a meal. As he bent to open the cell door, he was knocked sprawling by a blow from behind and was rendered unconscious. When he came to, the prisoner and the woman had disappeared.’

  ‘Is he saying that Aibell knocked him out?’ Fidelma sounded sceptical.

  ‘The commander of the guard came in at that moment and I hurried here to find you but was overtaken by him – hence we arrived together in the hall.’

  ‘Have Gormán and Aibell been caught? You say the warriors set off when the guard sounded the alarm. It would be hard to leave the fortress without being seen or to hide without being discovered.’

  ‘I do not know, lady.’

  ‘Where is Ciarnat?’

  ‘That, also, I do not know.’

  Fidelma put her hand to her head in disbelief. ‘I do not understand it. Of all the stupid things to do!’ She moved quickly to the doors of the hall, with Eadulf and Enda in her wake. ‘Come, let us follow Conrí and Faolchair,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘Whatever possessed Gormán to do this? Things were difficult enough but now this action has made them impossible.’

  ‘It is unlike Gormán,’ Eadulf replied.

  ‘But maybe not unlike Aibell.’ Enda showed his bias. ‘She has a mind of her own. And I haven’t seen Ciarnat since I left her to go to the barracks.’

  As they started to cross the courtyard, they saw Conrí hurrying towards them from the direction of the main gates. By his side was a dishevelled-looking guard.

  ‘Have they been recaptured?’ Fidelma demanded before the warlord could speak.

  Conrí shook his head. ‘It was a well conceived plan,’ he replied bitterly. ‘It seems that Gormán’s wife had two horses ready at a side gate, just behind the prison house. That gate is usually locked. There is no sign of them but they can’t have gone far. I have sent Socht and some men after them. Socht is a good tracker. They can’t be allowed to escape.’ He then added as if in apology, ‘Even though I sympathise with Gormán’s plight.’

  ‘So they escaped through a side gate on horseback?’

  ‘The cells for prisoners are entered by a separate entrance from the main barracks, lady,’ explained Conrí. ‘As I said, the gate there is usually locked and bolted. We don’t often use it, since its main purpose is as a strategic exit for our warriors should the fortress be under attack at the main gates. A party of warriors can leave at the side to encircle the raiders at the main gates.’

  ‘Are you claiming that Aibell had planned this and had two horses waiting outside with this gate already unlocked and unbolted?’ Eadulf could scarcely believe this.

  ‘Yes. They even used the horses they arrived here on,’ the warlord informed them. ‘My guess is that if Gormán is the warrior I think he is, then he will head south across the stony ground to hide their tracks, and then cross the river and follow it further south, hoping to disguise the tracks by riding in the shallows. He will think that we will expect him to immediately turn due east. We should be able to recapture them shortly,’ he concluded with satisfaction.

  ‘It sounds incredible,’ Fidelma said.

  ‘I doubt Aibell could have accomplished this alone,’ agreed the warlord, and Fidelma noticed that his eyes flickered towards the guard at his side as he spoke. The man in question was an ugly-looking fellow, with overhanging brows, and hardly any neck to speak of. He was small and thickset, with a look of cunning about him.

  ‘Are you the guard who was knocked out by a young woman?’ she asked.

  The man reddened as he defiantly grunted an affirmative.

  ‘Explain what happened?’ she demanded.

  ‘The woman came with a meal for the prisoner,’ the man replied sullenly. ‘I bent to unlock the door to let her in and she hit me. I knew nothing more until I recovered my senses, by which time they had fled.’

  ‘She arrived carrying food. You turned your back, bent to the door … and she knocked you out?’

  ‘Exactly as I said. I had no suspicion, see, for the girl was always visiting the prisoner and bringing him meals. I had often opened the cell before in such a fashion.’

  ‘It is difficult to believe a young woman would be able to give you a sufficiently powerful blow as to cause a burly man like you to be rendered unconscious.’ Eadulf was suspicious.

  The man looked sheepish. ‘Nevertheless, brother, that is what happened. She must have hit me with something heavy. A cudgel – that’s it! She must have used a cudgel.’

  ‘So what happened to the tray of food that she was carrying while she was producing the cudgel from somewhere and preparing to knock you out with it?’ Fidelma asked.

  The guard hesitated, his face reddening even deeper. Then he dropped his gaze.

  ‘What did the girl say to the prisoner after she paid you to let her into the cell?’ Fidelma demanded brusquely.

  ‘She said …’ the man began, stopped and looked helpless.

  ‘It was obvious you were bribed,’ Fidelma continued. ‘She needed help to arrange such an escape; to have the gate unlocked and horses ready. You were bribed, that is plain. Now I want to know what she said.’

  The guard seemed to realise it was futile to make any further pretence. He muttered, ‘I heard her say something about betrayal.’

  Fidelma’s eyes narrowed. ‘Betrayal? Can you recall her precise words?’

  The man frowned. ‘I think it was “we are betrayed”. Perhaps it was “we have been betrayed”. Something
like that. The rest was spoken in a whisper. I agreed to give them a good head start …’

  ‘For a price?’ Conrí was angry.

  ‘Most things are done for a price,’ the man replied sulkily.

  ‘You will have time to meditate on that at leisure in the cells that you once guarded. We will hear what your commander has to say about your willingness to take bribes and betray our trust.’

  As Conrí marched the man off at sword point, Fidelma glanced at Eadulf and Enda. ‘“We are betrayed!”’ she quoted. ‘What do you think Aibell meant by that?’

  ‘Earlier this morning, she was content to leave the inquiry in your hands,’ the warrior replied. ‘Then in a short space of time, she had planned and executed a successful escape for Gormán. Why?’

  ‘And why at this precise time?’ Eadulf wanted to know. ‘If such a plan was feasible, why had she not put it into action before? Nine whole days have passed since her man was incarcerated and more or less declared guilty, apart from the legal niceties. Why wait until after you had arrived and started an investigation? It just doesn’t make any sense.’

  ‘Things only make sense when we are in possession of all the facts.’ Fidelma sounded resigned. It was clear that she could not find any logic for this new turn of events.

  Brehon Faolchair had called a meeting in the great hall. Prince Donennach, looking more exhausted than before, sat in his seat of office and allowed Brehon Faolchair to conduct the proceedings. Prior Cuán and his steward, the tall and arrogant Brother Tuamán, attended but sat quietly. Abbot Nannid and his steward, Brother Cuineáin, had plenty to say on the other hand, muttering about conspiracy and Gormán’s guilt. Conrí and Enda stood in the background. There was a tense atmosphere as Brehon Faolchair began.

  ‘We have heard what happened,’ he said. ‘On my part, we admit our responsibility in that one of the guards was bribed. We are not without fault in this matter.’

  ‘We also know why it has happened,’ interposed Abbot Nannid. ‘The man escaped to avoid punishment and has given us a clear declaration of his guilt. Further, we know now that his woman is as guilty as he is.’