Faces turned expectantly as Fidelma rose to her feet and bowed her head towards the Brehon.
‘My mentor, the renowned Brehon Morann of Tara, often used the maxim: truth is great and will prevail,’ she began slowly. ‘In this matter, the truth has taken a while to prevail. What was the basis of the charge against Gormán? Let me remind you. Gormán was found in a chamber claimed to have been locked from the inside because the key of the chamber was found still inside. There was a dagger by his hand and before him was the bloody body of Abbot Ségdae of Imleach. Gormán says he was knocked out from a blow that came from behind him. There is evidence by bruising on his head that he did receive such a blow. This was discounted, according to witnesses, because there was no way another person could have entered the room. The blow was explained away as having been made by Abbot Ségdae as he tried to defend himself with his staff of office. Even mortally wounded, it is said that he gave Gormán that blow. No logical motive for the killing was presented – except that it was claimed that Gormán had arrived for that fatal meeting in an angry state.’
She paused and looked thoughtfully at the witness benches. Eadulf was aware that, in presenting her cases, Fidelma liked to make dramatic pauses.
‘Within a short time of my arriving here I found there was another way in which Abbot Ségdae could have been slain in that room which was supposedly locked from the inside.’
Loud murmurs of surprise rose from the onlookers.
‘If Gormán was innocent then it became fairly obvious as to the identity of the killer – the one person who had the opportunity to do the deed. But I had to question whether it was a deed done by a single person? If so, what was their motive? If several people were involved, then the motive grew even more dark and ominous. Instead of simply clearing Gormán, the purpose of my investigation had to be to pursue the questions that then arose. It is often easy to find out “how”, but harder to find out “why” – and it was the “why” that became essential to revealing the complete truth. Without answering the “why” it would not have been possible to clear Gormán to everyone’s satisfaction.’
She paused again as if to consider her arguments before resuming. ‘It is easy to see the purpose of implicating Gormán in this crime. It was to create dissension between the Uí Fidgente and Cashel once more. If Abbot Nannid had had his way and had Gormán executed under these alien Penitentials, it would certainly have provoked a demand for retribution from Cashel. If Gormán was released, it could provoke internal conflict among the Uí Fidgente and perhaps the overthrow of Prince Donennach, who would be presented as someone afraid of incurring Cashel’s displeasure. That was at the basis of a curious conspiracy.’
Abbot Nannid had been sitting rigidly, staring at her. Now he rose, his stance threatening. ‘Are you accusing me of Ségdae’s murder?’ he thundered. ‘If so …’
Brehon Faolchair interrupted sharply. ‘You will be silent while the dálaigh is stating her case. That is her right under law. You will have plenty of opportunity for rebuttal later.’
Ignoring the outburst, Fidelma went on: ‘Let us go through matters carefully. Gormán and his wife Aibell while visiting her uncle heard some disturbing news from travelling merchants. The news was that Gláed, by killing his brother, had made himself chief of the brigands of Sliabh Luachra and was preparing to raid the Uí Fidgente territory. More importantly the merchants told Gormán that Gláed was involved in serving some Uí Fidgente noble in a plot to depose Prince Donennach.
‘Gormán came here to warn Prince Donennach but, as he could not identify the noble, he kept that matter back to seek further advice. By coincidence, having heard that Abbot Ségdae was staying here, Gormán, who knew him well, went to see him for that advice. Meanwhile, the prince sent for his warlord, Conrí, to organise his troops against Gláed.
‘The plot was so complicated that I have had to consider whether I should begin with the act itself or with the conspirators – or even with the motivation of those conspirators.’ She decided: ‘I shall begin with the act.’
In the deathly silence that had settled in the hall, Eadulf could imagine one might hear a beetle scuttling over the floor.
‘Gormán went to see Abbot Ségdae as a friend to ask what he should do about a conspiracy involving a noble of Prince Donennach’s house. It was nothing to do with Prince Donennach dismissing his warning about Gláed. Stories that the prince had done so and thus angered Gormán were completely untrue. It was a lie that was purposely told to Brother Máel Anfaid, who then told Ciarnat so that it would create a picture of a man in frustration and anger entering the abbot’s chamber. It was a weak attempt at a motive.
‘Gormán entered the chamber and almost immediately the plot swung into action. The door had been left unlocked. The killer entered immediately behind Gormán. It was said that if the killer had been behind Gormán, the abbot would have seen him and uttered a warning.’
There were mutterings of agreement from some of the witnesses.
‘Well, the abbot did see his killer and was not alarmed, for that person had every right to be there. We are told that the abbot said, “Oh yes, you want these?” and glanced down at his table. That was the last thing Gormán remembered before he received a blow on the head – back or side, it had the same effect. He was knocked out.
‘This tells me that Ségdae knew the person who had entered the chamber and was standing behind Gormán. Not only did he know the person, but it was someone who the abbot thought had come to pick up some document or letters. He looked for them on his table – hence his words.
‘As Gormán fell unconscious, the assailant went forward and stabbed the abbot to death. Then the scene was arranged. The dagger was placed by Gormán’s hand and the abbot’s staff was prominently set so that it looked as if he had tried to defend himself, managing to stun Gormán before he succumbed to death. Eadulf and I examined that staff and realised it could not have been the weapon that knocked Gormán out for it was incapable of inflicting the injury in the manner he received it. Having arranged the scene, the assailant left.’
‘The main weakness in your account, Fidelma,’ interrupted Brehon Faolchair, ‘is that the door of the chamber had been locked from the inside. There was nowhere to hide when Ségdae’s steward and the warrior Lachtna burst into the locked chamber. Lachtna found the key behind the door where it must have fallen when the door was forced open.’
‘The door was locked from the outside,’ Fidelma contradicted with confidence.
‘But the key was on the inside!’ Lachtna shouted from his seat. ‘I found it. Do you call me a liar?’
He was immediately rebuked for the interruption by Brehon Faolchair, who said to Fidelma, ‘The key was certainly found on the inside of the locked chamber. You will have to explain this miracle.’
‘It was no miracle,’ Fidelma assured him. ‘It was a clever idea but not clever enough. The door was old and had several knot-holes in it. I borrowed the key from you, Brehon Faolchair, to experiment with my idea. Sure enough, I was able to close the door, push the key through a knot-hole and find it fallen in exactly the same place where Lachtna found it – where he was meant to find it by the real killer.’
‘You said the abbot’s staff could not have knocked Gormán out,’ Brehon Faolchair said, when he could make himself heard above the noisy reaction of the gathering.
‘True. Another mistake by the killer. Had the silver top impacted on the flesh hard enough to render Gormán senseless, it would have lacerated the skin and caused much bloodshed. In fact, there was just a bump and a bruise, as witnesses swore – but no blood. Had the wooden end been used, then such a blow would have splintered it. This did not happen. The staff was made of a thin yew wood.’ Again she paused before announcing, ‘I can tell you that the actual implement that knocked Gormán unconscious was a blackthorn stick.’ She glanced at Prior Cuán. ‘I am afraid it was Prior Cuán’s blackthorn stick.’
Prior Cuán turned a shocked face to her.
‘Are you accusing …?’ he gasped, becoming speechless.
‘No, of course not,’ she said at once. ‘You have two sticks, so you told me. One is the knob-headed blackthorn and the other is of chestnut wood. Can you remember which one you were using, the evening Abbot Ségdae was killed?’
Cuán glanced down at his stick with a puzzled frown. It was Brehon Faolchair who intervened.
‘I must bear witness here, for on that evening Prior Cuán was discussing some matters with me. I remember I had previously seen him with a blackthorn – but that evening he was using the stick he carries now, which is made of chestnut wood.’
‘That blackthorn was left in your chamber that evening,’ Fidelma nodded. ‘You had left it leaning in a corner. You have a habit of leaving whichever one of your sticks that does not come readily to hand propped up in a corner when you leave your chamber. It was so easy for the killer to pick it up, use it and replace it in your chamber afterwards.’
‘A plausible story – but without witnesses it is still conjecture,’ warned Brehon Faolchair.
‘We will get there,’ Fidelma assured him. ‘Yet it is a long and complicated path that I have had to travel. Very well we have done with the “how” and we must turn our attention to the “why” before we come to the “who”. As I have said, these events were part of a conspiracy to draw the Uí Fidgente into war – either among themselves or with Cashel. In whichever case, this would ensure that Prince Donennach would be perceived as a weak ruler and one that needed to be replaced.’
‘So you are claiming that Abbot Nannid was behind this?’ intervened Prince Donennach. ‘He is of the bloodline and yet was the person stirring up the dissension?’
‘He certainly became the obvious suspect,’ Fidelma said. As the abbot started to rise from his seat, his face choleric, she smiled cynically and went on, ‘But he was too obvious. Abbot Nannid is not a subtle man. It is true that he is a descendant of the Uí Chóirpi Aebda and therefore could claim to be a legitimate successor to Prince Donennach. But, as we know, Nannid is also a religious fanatic. He holds these new Penitential concepts dear. He has demonstrated that he does not accept the laws of this country – therefore why would he accept its laws of succession?’
‘I protest!’ shouted Nannid.
‘Your protest will be noted but, for the moment, it is the truth that we are after,’ replied Brehon Faolchair. He motioned Fidelma to continue.
‘We now know that Nannid was dismissed as Abbot of Mungairit six months ago after the first conspiracy was discovered at that abbey. At the same time, Brother Cuineáin was also dismissed as steward. I had not judged them guilty of involvement in that conspiracy but only being ignorant of it. The council of the abbey later decided that this brought the abbey into disrepute and thus they were both dismissed from office and sent into exile. But note – the council only dismissed them because of bias and incompetence, not because of conspiracy.
‘The council at Mungairit also imposed a fine on you, Nannid. Let me guess. Was it not a fine which you then raised by demanding monies from the community of Nechta here? You arranged to take the sum to Brother Feradach of Mungairit at a rendezvous – the Hill of Truth.’
Brehon Faolchair leaned forward with a quick motion. ‘Are you saying that Nannid told the truth about his encounter with Gláed?’ he asked incredulously. ‘He intended to meet Brother Feradach but Gláed had arrived there by chance?’
‘Sometimes even a liar will tell the truth,’ Fidelma replied. ‘He actually intended to pay the reparation to Mungairit so that he could declare himself free of constraints, should Mungairit raise questions as to what he was doing here. Brother Feradach, however, saw Gláed encamped on the hill and, wisely, decided not to proceed. Nannid did meet Gláed by chance and saw that he held Gormán as a prisoner. It was then that his fanaticism overtook his long-term ambition: Nannid’s zeal to show his new power by keeping his promise to execute Gormán overcame his desire to pay off the reparation to Brother Feradach, who was waiting to take it to Mungairit.’
‘But why would Gláed hand his prisoner to him? Just for the gold? He could have killed Gormán and taken the gold anyway.’
‘Because one of Gláed’s men, the very man who had been a guard here and was involved in this conspiracy, had probably drawn Gláed’s attention to the fact that the execution of Gormán for the murder of Abbot Ségdae was an essential part of starting the unrest that would topple Prince Donennach. It was a key element of the plan of the noble who was employing Gláed as a mercenary in the plot.’
‘This doesn’t make sense. Are you arguing that this conspirator helped Gormán escape the first time and then wanted him recaptured the next?’
‘When Gormán escaped with Aibell, it was intended to emphasise his guilt. But it was anticipated that he would be swiftly recaptured and brought back. Gormán was to be the focus of the conflict.’
‘You say that the money Nannid paid Gláed for giving Gormán to him was money he intended to give to Mungairit in payment of fines?’
‘It was money falsely raised from the community of Nechta,’ affirmed Fidelma. ‘We should thank Deogaire that the money will now be returned to the community.’
‘It will be returned to me!’ cried Nannid, standing up. ‘I am still Abbot of Nechta.’
‘I doubt that you will even be that when this matter is known,’ Fidelma pointed out coldly. ‘You imposed yourself on the community by virtue of an office you no longer held. Now you are neither more nor less than an ordinary member of the community. You know how office is awarded. The derbhfine or council of the community must meet and elect its leader. Judging from what I hear, I doubt whether it will be worth you or your steward even attempting to put yourself forward for the office after Brother Éladach has summoned the council of the community.’
‘My voice is still powerful among the Uí Fidgente. I will ensure that they obey me,’ Nannid blustered.
Socht left his position and actually placed a hand on Nannid’s shoulder. ‘Your voice will fall silent, Nannid, especially a voice which conspires against his prince.’ His voice was firm and authoritative and Nannid found himself sitting down, blinking.
‘But you were saying that Nannid was too obvious as a conspirator,’ Brehon Faolchair prompted Fidelma. ‘Do you say that he was not in this conspiracy?’
‘You have my exact meaning,’ affirmed Fidelma. ‘I will say that as pedantic as Nannid is, with his rigid ideas and adherence to alien religious concepts and laws, he was not one of the conspirators. However, he was actually used in this conspiracy. His character was assessed accurately by the conspirators and he was manipulated so that it would deflect suspicion from them as the real culprits.’
‘I confess, Fidelma, I am now finding this hard to follow.’ The Brehon was shaking his head.
‘It is simple. Ambition, power and the need for revenge on Mungairit played a dominant role in Nannid’s intentions. He and his steward were exiled from Mungairit and came here hoping to open an abbey in the principal township of the Uí Fidgente. He wanted to claim the abbacy of this community and make it as powerful as Mungairit. It sounds impossible, but stranger things have happened. However, the community here was an intrinsic part of the township: it was not what they call a cenobium or closed community. So Nannid had to fall back on the authority of Mungairit – which he no longer had – when he ordered walls to be built around it and make it into a close community, as well as fraudulently demanding gold from them.’
‘So Nannid was simply being manipulated. But by whom?’ demanded Brehon Faolchair.
‘I have said it is a complicated plot and one that sadly led to several deaths, beginning with that of Abbot Ségdae. Nannid had been persuaded to invite Abbot Ségdae here by those conspiratorial interests. It had probably been suggested to him that if he invited Abbot Ségdae here, it would help assure his prestige. In short, Abbot Ségdae was lured here to his death.’
‘You are saying that Nannid was
merely a tool, used to bring Abbot Ségdae here. So he was as much a victim as Gormán.’ Brehon Faolchair sighed. ‘It is a story that is hard to digest, let alone believe.’
‘I trust that I shall lead you into the belief,’ Fidelma replied solemnly.
‘You have to account for the deaths of Ciarnat and Brother Máel Anfaid,’ Prince Donennach interposed for the first time. ‘You also have to account for the false story that Ciarnat told her friend Aibell, which was passed on to Gormán and then caused them to engineer Gormán’s escape – which confirmed, in most of our eyes, that he was guilty.’
‘That I shall do,’ Fidelma said. ‘False stories are easily spread. It is a human weakness that untruth is more readily believable than truth. Brother Máel Anfaid was told the story by someone he trusted and whose word he believed implicitly. He was informed that I had decided to abandon the defence of Gormán. He repeated this to Ciarnat who, as it was expected, immediately told her close friend Aibell.’ Fidelma smiled encouragingly across at the girl. ‘Aibell is a person of quiet determination, and when it was also whispered that the guard was susceptible to bribery, she seized the chance to seek his help – the irony being that he was in fact part of the conspiracy and had already been ordered to engineer the escape of Gormán from his prison.
‘This is where our conspirators became clever again; perhaps too clever. They guessed that I might be able to track down this line of false stories to its source, as they knew that I had already shown that one false story that had been spread was untrue. The false story was that Prince Donennach had dismissed Gormán’s warning and that Gormán had gone in a rage to see Abbot Ségdae to protest.’
Brehon Faolchair rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment. ‘Ciarnat was the innocent instrument of causing Aibell and Gormán to panic and leave this fortress so that we might assume Gormán was guilty,’ he said. ‘How were the conspirators too clever in this?’
‘It was what followed. They no doubt assumed that Ciarnat would flee with Aibell and Gormán. However, the care of her elderly mother kept her here – and that was to be the poor girl’s death sentence. I think our conspirators first killed Brother Máel Anfaid, who alone could identify the real source of the story. He was walking by the river when he was killed and his loman, his corded belt, was taken. It was a new style adopted by him and Brother Mac Raith and so easily identifiable. The killer then paid attention to Ciarnat, who staying under the protection of Airmid, your tanaise. Ciarnat was killed by a blow on the head and then hanged from a roof beam with the stolen loman. This was the clever piece – initially it was made to look like suicide.
Penance of the Damned (Sister Fidelma) Page 33