Ossen waved his hands defensively. ‘It was for her own good,’ he protested.
Fidelma smiled sadly at him. ‘Even in my short experience, I have heard that put forward as an excuse in many cases where people need to justify themselves about forcing someone to an action they do not want to do.’
‘Are you saying that because Lúach refused this marriage, she was somehow made prisoner to force her to marry?’ the steward demanded. ‘Is that why you went to see the Prince of the Uí Thuirtri?’
‘As a motive it did occur to me,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘The main obstacle was that Lúach is over the age of choice and the laws are there to determine exactly those who may enter marriage and under what conditions. There is no way any marriage in such circumstances would be legally binding. However, I did feel the need to confront Suibhne in case he had become involved in some scheme to abduct Lúach for, in ancient times, some powerful princes were known to abduct women to be their wives and that is still noted in the Lánamnus, the marriage laws. Hence there are laws on separation and divorce and punishments for those who disobey the laws. So when I saw Suibhne I was persuaded that he did not care about Lúach enough to risk his honour on such a silly dalliance. He also knew the difference between love and desire.’
‘Then why do you say she was abducted?’ Ossen demanded.
‘Because what is central to this case is love and desire. Mugrón’s love of his niece Lúach had forced him into the dark world of suspicions. That’s why he suspected Orla.’
‘Didn’t you imply that Orla was not involved in this as she would not abandon her ambition to get Lúach married off to an influential family?’ asked Sranacháin.
‘Yet it was an accusation that I had to consider and as Ossen was, frankly, unable to stand up to Orla over Lúach’s future it was an accusation that might have had some truth in it.’
Ossen seemed to have become a shrivelled old man.
‘It is true that as much as I love Lúach, Orla is now my wife,’ he explained in a hollow voice. ‘Yet we have done no wrong to my daughter. You claim that Lúach is alive, that she has been abducted. Perhaps you should start to explain?’
‘I said that I hope she is still alive. Even as we speak, Ibor and Muirenn have gone to the place where I am hoping that she is still held a prisoner.’ She ignored the gasps from those gathered. ‘Before I come to the “who” I shall finish with the “why”. I also said love and desire were the driving forces. There will be no dissension when I say that everyone found Lúach a very attractive girl both physically and in personality. She was, as someone said, easy to fall in love with.’ Fidelma paused before adding with slight emphasis, ‘It should be of no surprise that certain people in this fortress fell in love, infatuation, passion, desire, call it what you will. That can be a terrible motivation.
‘I will tell you what I believe happened. That night, the night she disappeared, Lúach retired to bed in her chamber. Her mind was full of the conflict between Orla and her father over the attempt to arrange a marriage with Suibhne. We are told that she had consulted Brother Máranáin about it or, rather, the nature of love and obedience.
‘Late that night, someone came to her door, someone she knew, who had been openly declaring their protestations of love for her. What happened? She probably told them not to be ridiculous. Being rejected was anathema to their soul, a shame to their manhood, and I believe that they were unable to control their emotions. Perhaps they knew that Lúach was alone in her chamber and even her attendant, Muirenn, was absent that night, not being in her chamber. Perhaps even that would not have constrained their actions. This person, I believe, lost control, pushed her on the bed and had his way with her.’
A deep groan welled from Ossen, as he slumped further into his chair.
‘If this person had such emotions for Lúach,’ queried Sranachin, speaking slowly, ‘why would he have compounded the crime of rape with the crime of duinetáide, of kidnapping?’
‘It was an unthinking attempt to hide the first crime. He did not think through the consequences. His thought was to prevent Lúach revealing what had happened; revealing this man’s shame to everyone, he rendered her senseless and took her out of the fortress. Even kidnapping is not as heinous as forecor, the forcible violation of a woman, and this person was fearful because he had a position of trust to protect. Moreover, his loss of control, if known, would prevent him fulfilling the very task he had come to this fortress to achieve. So, having rendered poor Lúach senseless or, at least, unable to cry out, he carried her out of the fortress so that it would appear that she must have left of her own accord in some fashion. That was his mistake.’
‘Oh come, now,’ the steward admonished, ‘how could this miracle be performed? You say, after he raped Lúach, he carried her bound body from this fortress in the middle of the night. None saw him. The gates remained closed and no horse was taken.’
‘It seems that a tunnel was initially dug three generations ago when the Echach na nArada, under their leader, Gunnat, attacked this fortress.’
‘It doesn’t exist,’ Ossen interrupted immediately. ‘It was filled in after the Echach na nArada withdrew following the High King’s victory over the rebellious nobles at Sliabh Mis.’
‘It was blocked but not filled in. It exists. The attackers almost broke into this fortress because they found a natural fissure in the rocky soil here, which brought them to a metre or so of entering your talam, itself made from a natural cave. For some months the abductor had been working on that tunnel to open it so that one could pass through it.’
‘That doesn’t make sense,’ Sranacháin intervened. ‘Are you suggesting that the man who raped and abducted Lúach had been working to clear the tunnel so that he would be able to abduct her without anyone seeing?’
Fidelma shook her head. ‘You, yourself, told me the reason, Sranacháin.’
The steward was bewildered. ‘I?’ he muttered as suspicious eyes turned on him.
‘You told me of the wealth that is housed in Dún Dealgan: the gold, silver and jewellery gathered as spoils over decades if not centuries. You told me that envious men look on this fortress. The brigands of Cuailgne, for example. I believe that our abductor was sent to this fortress by those same brigands to find the tunnel and excavate it in preparation for an attack to seize that treasure.’
‘You don’t expect us to believe this?’ demanded Orla. ‘Is this yet another accusation against me because I come from the people of Cuailgne?’
‘It is not my concern where you come from, Orla,’ Fidelma replied. ‘However, Muirenn and I opened the tunnel and explored it last night.’ She took out the piece of the woollen material and placed it on a nearby table. ‘I found this in it and Muirenn confirmed it this morning as a piece missing from a woollen robe often worn by Lúach.’
‘You went through this tunnel?’ Ossen asked sharply. ‘Was she …’
‘Not, she was not in it. The tunnel was fairly short and opened on the hillside to the east, not far from the walls of the fortress. But I think I know where she might be.’
‘Where?’ demanded Ossen, almost with a shout.
‘One of the disused watchtowers along the river nearby. I am told by Ibor that some of them are habitable. They should soon return to tell me if I am right. There is hope that she is alive because Artrí, who makes the cheese in the cook house, told me that in recent days they have been missing items of food pieces, bannocks and so on, which I believe our abductor has been taking to feed her.’
Brother Máranáin stood up decisively. ‘I have some knowledge of the healing arts. If Lúach has been injured, as you say, it would be best if I go to join them in this rescue?’
Fidelma shook her head. ‘They will bring her back here and it is best if you stay while I finish explaining of my investigation.’
‘You mention one of the watchtowers,’ Sranacháin said. ‘Do you really expect to find her there?’
‘Oh yes,’ Fidelma assured him. She glanced at O
rla. ‘I am told the one I am interested in has been called the Lair of the White Fox.’
The woman’s hand went to her throat and her face was pale, the lips suddenly bloodless.
‘Are you accusing Orla of involvement?’ Ossen’s voice had become a whisper. ‘I gave her that watchtower as a shrine to my first wife, Lúach’s mother, because she was Orla’s dear friend and she died near there.’
‘I have heard the story,’ Fidelma assured him. ‘There was no one else involved in this crime other than the man who raped and abducted her. A man who was unable to control his passions. Someone said to me that Lúach was loved by many people. She was young and attractive and easy to fall in love with. One person was especially noticed as being in love with her. It was noticed that he followed her about like a puppy dog. He told me that he had seen Lúach and in that instant so desired her that he came to this fortress to seek a position just to be near her.’
‘Little point to you continuing,’ Dergnat suddenly cried angrily. ‘I’ll not defend myself. I did love her. I still love her. She would have none of me.’
They had turned to regard the young dálaigh with horror.
‘You have betrayed us!’ There was a curious sob from Ossen.
‘You might have loved her,’ Fidelma said calmly, ‘but you did not abduct her. Do not take on guilt that is not yours because you loved her.’
Dergnat hesitated. Hands working, clenching and unclenching, then his shoulders appeared to drop and he burst into tears. ‘You are right. I would not have the courage. That is why she rejected me because she knew I was really a coward.’
‘You are only a young man,’ she said softly. ‘Love, infatuation, or call it what you will, is a hurtful emotion when one is young. I found a text in Latin about love in Lúach’s chamber. An interesting text about love. It came from Ephesians, a text from the Holy Scriptures.’
The young man was still puzzled.
‘When I came to see you in your chamber you had many texts and writing implements so you were a good hand with calligraphic skills and had knowledge of literary skills. Did you write that text?’
‘I do not know the text you mention.’
‘Exactly. Someone knew the quotation from Paul’s letter to Ephesians. Someone had the nerve to excavate the remains of the tunnel that he had once been told about, told about to the degree that he knew a specific location to start at. Ibor said it was first dug by the Echach na nArada. Now isn’t Beannchar in the territory of the people of the Aird – the very people who attacked this fortress?’
Dergnat was now unresponsive, staring at the ground.
‘You have accepted that it was not Dergnat,’ protested Sranacháin. ‘But Dergnat was a frequent visitor to Artrí, the cheesemaker, and had access to the talam.’
Brother Maranáin was suddenly excited. ‘Of course. We all know that he followed Lúach like a puppy dog. He was always helping Artrí and finding excuses to visit the talam and we know he was from the Airds so he would surely have known the story of the tunnel.’
‘I have a last question to ask of Dergnat,’ Fidelma said softly. ‘Do you remember, Dergnat, you told me you decided to go back to Beannchar after Lúach had finally made clear her rejection of you? You told me that she said, out of the three people declaring their love for her, she was sorry for you the most.’
The young man looked bewildered. Fidelma sighed impatiently.
‘Out of three people,’ she repeated heavily. ‘One presumes you were one, Suibhne was the second. So who was the third? That was the key to this entire matter – the third would-be lover.’
There came a few moments of silence.
‘You are also from the Echach na nArada, Brother Máranáin, aren’t you?’ she asked softly. ‘You told me that you were educated at the community of Naoindroim, the place of Nine Ridges. That is an island separated from the Airds by a short strip of water. Yet you did not seem keen about admitting it.’
‘I told you that I knew nothing of the story of the ancient attack by the Echach na nArada on this place.’ Brother Máranáin was crimson in the face.
‘Although you asked the steward about the tunnel almost as soon as you became chaplain here. Prior to coming here, you also dwelt in the territory of the Cuailgne. You came here with the purpose of finding that tunnel and excavated it in secret having made a deal with your brigand friends so the fortress could be attacked and the wealth looted. It took some time to excavate it. During this time you had become infatuated with Lúach. You couldn’t bear her rejection of you that night and what followed was exactly as I have described it.’
‘You have to prove it!’ cried the religieux, backing away.
Fidelma inclined her head to one side. ‘I hear arrivals at the gates. I think we shall soon be able to accept Lúach’s identification of her assailant.’
With a sudden cry of rage, Brother Máranáin turned for the door of the hall. Even as the warriors began moving to block him, there was a loud shriek as Dergnat seemed to spring across the room and was on the man, his hand raised, clasping a dagger. It plunged up and down several times before the warriors were able to pull him off. By that time it was too late.
The doors burst open and Muirenn came rushing excitedly in followed by Ibor.
‘She is alive!’ cried Muirenn. Then she saw the body and raised a hand to her mouth in horror.
Fidelma drew her gaze slowly from the bloody corpse of Brother Máranáin, and from the sobbing form of Dergnat, being held helplessly between the warriors, to look at the newcomers.
‘The assailant was Brother Máranáin,’ she said quietly. ‘Was Lúach where I thought she would be?’
‘We found her locked in the underground room of the old watchtower, lady,’ added Ibor, taking in the scene more phlegmatically. ‘She was exactly in the place where you said she would be.’
Ossen had stood up, his body quivering with shock. ‘Is my … my daughter … is she alive and well?’
‘Alive but in a poor way,’ Ibor confirmed. ‘She has had food and drink, but she was locked in a dark cellar and … and …’
‘She has been badly abused,’ Muirenn explained regaining her composure. There was no misinterpreting her serious expression. Then she glanced down again to Brother Máranáin. ‘So is he dead?’
Fidelma make a gesture of confirmation.
‘I hope it was not an easy death,’ the girl commented without feeling. ‘We must carry Lúach up to her chamber and send a rider for a physician.’
‘I’ll come and talk with her.’ Fidelma quietly took charge. ‘Muirenn will look after her until the physician arrives,’ she told them. ‘It is best that she doesn’t see too many people until she is better.’ Then she glanced at Dergnat, still standing sobbing. ‘Have someone take care of him. He, too, is a victim.’
XIII
Nine days had passed when Fidelma and Lúach sat before the small fire in Lúach’s chamber, gazing into the glowing coals.
‘Are you determined to leave tomorrow?’ Lúach queried in a tone of regret.
‘I am,’ Fidelma sighed. ‘Now that the Chief Brehon of Fir Rois has finished his deliberations and approved my submissions, and ordered the fines and punishments, I am free to go. Dergnat will not be harshly punished while your father is at least considering the options between separation and divorce. For myself, I need to get back to Brehon Morann’s school and prepare myself to take the degree of Anruth.’
‘I am sure you’ll achieve it. But then what? Will you go and seek some commissions from your cousin, King Máenach at Cashel?’
Fidelma shook her head decisively.
‘I do not think my cousin, Máenach mac Fíngin, has any feeling for me or my brothers, Colgú or Fogartach. At least they are trained warriors and he has need of their service. I have a distant cousin, Laisran, who is abbot at Darú. He has been suggesting to me that I should join the community of the Blessed Brigid at the Church of the Oaks. He says that the abbess needs a legal advisor.’
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br /> Lúach allowed a brief smile to pass over her lips. ‘You never struck me as one who would submit yourself to a life of prayer and contemplation or proselytise others in the New Faith.’
‘Heaven forbid,’ Fidelma chuckled. ‘The law is my passion. I will have no other. If I go to the community at Cill Dara it will be purely to advise them on law and for no other reason. It is only the security that I shall be seeking which cousin Máenach would deny me if I came to him in Cashel.’
‘Have you put your affair with Cian behind you?’
Fidelma grimaced. Two years before she had fallen in love with a warrior of the Fianna, the High King’s household guard, whom she had met at the great triennial fair of Tara. Cian was her first passionate love; her only love until she had discovered that the youthful warrior was having an affair with a fellow student. He was a shallow man, only interested in conquests. As he tired of one conquest he had moved on to another. The realisation had been tough and had hardened Fidelma.
‘As I said, the law is my only passion now,’ Fidelma repeated firmly.
‘I join you in that resolve,’ Lúach agreed. There was a tone of bitterness in her voice. ‘I shall never trust any man again.’
‘Are you returning to the law school?’ Fidelma asked, slightly embarrassed at asking.
‘I’ll do so in another week or two. I am well enough, physically that is. But …’ She shrugged indifferently.
‘There is a saying that you learn by suffering,’ Fidelma reflected. ‘I think we have both learned much about the disease of desire that is often miscalled love. You know that I am fond of the sayings of Publilius Syrus? He once said amare et sapere vix deo conceditur …’
‘Even a god finds it hard to love and be wise at the same time.’ The girl smiled cynically. ‘Men can be turned to animals. Love is a disease that is best avoided.’
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