The Subtle Serpent (14 page)

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Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_rt_yes, #Church History, #Fiction, #tpl, #_NB_Fixed, #Mystery, #Historical, #Clerical Sleuth, #Medieval Ireland

BOOK: The Subtle Serpent
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‘Mother abbess, it ill behoves one of your position to utter such curses. I need to ask you again, why it is your brother and Brother Febal should level such charges against you, or spread such rumours? Your attitude indicates to me that they are without foundation.’
‘Ask Adnár and his lickspittle, Febal, if you must know. I am sure that they will invent a suitable story.’
‘Mother abbess, ever since I arrived here, I have found much arrogance and deception. Also, there is great hatred and threatening evil here. If there is anything I should know further about the background to this matter, I urge you to tell me now. I shall find out, eventually. Be sure of that.’
Abbess Draigen’s face was graven.
‘And I can assure you, Sister Fidelma, that the finding of an unidentified corpse at this abbey has nothing to do with the mutual dislike that exists between my brother, myself, and my former husband Brother Febal.’
Fidelma tried to read beyond Draigen’s wooden expression but gathered nothing.
‘I must ask these questions,’ she said, slowly rising to her feet. ‘If I do not then I shall be failing in my task.’
Draigen followed her with her eyes.
‘You may do what you think you must, sister. I can now
see the purpose of your questions to Sister Síomha which touched on me. I can assure you that I am not guilty of any crime. If I were, surely I would not have sent to Brocc, the abbot of Ros Ailithir, requesting an advocate of the courts to come here to investigate.’
‘I follow your reasoning, mother abbess. Yet others have been subtle in seeking to evade suspicion in ways that you might not credit.’
Draigen snorted in disgust.
‘Then you must do as you think fit. Neither I nor Sister Síomha have anything to fear from the truth.’
Sister Fidelma was halfway to the door when the abbess’s last sentence halted her. She swung round and faced Abbess Draigen.
‘Since you mention it, I have seen fear in Sister Síomha’s eyes. I asked her if she recognised the headless corpse …’
She held up a hand to silence Draigen’s immediate protest.
‘One may still recognise a corpse even when its head is missing.’
‘I am sure that Sister Síomha did not.’
‘So she told me. But why would she fear that question?’
Abbess Draigen shrugged eloquently.
‘That is not a matter for me.’
‘Of course not. Her fear increased when I asked her whether all the sisters of this community were accounted for.’
Abbess Draigen gave another of her dry chuckles.
‘You think that the headless corpse was one of our own sisters? Come, Sister Fidelma, you must have more talent in your art than to consider that we would not know if one of our own sisters had been murdered, decapitated and thrown down our drinking well!’
‘It would be logical to presume so. Though members of a religious community would hardly be able to recognise a naked body without a head as someone they are used to seeing and recognising by face only.’
‘This is true. But no one here is unaccounted for,’ confirmed the Abbess Draigen.
‘So every member of the community is within the confines of the abbey?’
Abbess Draigen hesitated.
‘No. I did not say that. I said that every member of the community is accounted for.’
Fidelma felt a sudden surge of adrenalin.
‘I have yet to reason that subtle alteration in emphasis.’
‘Often members of our community go on missions, on journeys to other abbeys.’
‘Ah,’ Fidelma tensed. ‘So there are members of your community away at the moment?’
‘Only two members.’
‘Why was I not told this?’
‘It was not the question which you asked, sister,’ replied the abbess.
Fidelma’s lips compressed.
‘There is hardship enough in this matter without games of mind reading and semantics. Explain who is away from the abbey at this time and why.’
Abbess Draigen blinked at the sharpness in Fidelma’s voice.
‘Sister Comnat and Sister Almu are away at this time. They are on a mission to the abbey of the Blessed Brenainn at Ard Fhearta.’
‘When did they go?’
‘Three weeks ago.’
‘Why did they go?’
Abbess Draigen was looking irritated.
‘You may not know that we, in this abbey, have some reputation for our penmanship. We copy books for other houses. Our sisters have just completed a copy of Murchú’s life of the Blessed Patrick of Ard Macha. Sister Comnat was our
leabhar coimedach,
our librarian, while Almu was her assistant. They were given the task of taking the copy of the book to Ard Fhearta.’
‘Why didn’t Sister Síomha tell me this?’ snapped Fidelma.
‘Presumably because …’
‘I am tired of hearing presumptions, Abbess Draigen,’ she interrupted. ‘Summon Sister Síomha now.’
The Abbess Draigen paused for a moment as if to control her response to Fidelma’s anger and then, clenching her jaw tight, she reached forward and rang a small silver bell that stood on her table. Sister Lerben entered a moment later and the abbess told her to ask the
rechtaire
to attend her immediately.
A few moments passed before there came a tap on the door and it opened. Sister Síomha entered, saw Fidelma, and her mouth broadened in a slight smile of obvious contempt.
‘You rang for me, mother abbess?’
‘I summoned you,’ Fidelma replied harshly.
Sister Síomha looked startled, her face loosing the self-satisfied expression.
‘A short time ago I asked you if every member of the community was accounted for. You replied that they were. Now I discover that two members of this community are not accounted for. Sister Comnat and Sister Almu. Why was I misled?’
Sister Síomha had flushed and glanced quickly at the abbess who seemed to incline her head slightly.
‘You do not have to ask permission of the mother abbess to reply to my questions,’ Fidelma said sharply.
‘Every member of this community was accounted for,’ replied Sister Síomha defensively. ‘I did not mislead you.’
‘You told me nothing of Comnat and Almu.’
‘What was there to tell you? They are on a mission to Ard Fhearta.’
‘They are not in the abbey.’
‘Yet they are accounted for.’
Fidelma exhaled in exasperation.
‘Semantics!’ she jeered. ‘Do you care more about morphology, with word formations and inflections, than with truth?’
‘You did not …’ began Sister Síomha, but this time it was Abbess Draigen who interrupted.
‘We must help Sister Fidelma all we can, Sister Síomha,’ she said, causing the young sister to glance at her in surprise. ‘She is, after all, a
dálaigh
of the court.’
There was a slight pause.
‘Very well, mother abbess,’ Sister Síomha said, bowing her head in compliance.
‘Now, as I understand it,’ began Fidelma determinedly, ‘there are two members of this community who are not in the abbey?’
‘Yes.’
‘And they are the only two members of your community who are unaccounted for?’
‘They are not unaccounted for …’ began Sister Síomha but halted at the look of thunder on Fidelma’s face. ‘There is no one else outside of the abbey at the moment,’ she confirmed.
‘I am told that they left for Ard Fhearta three weeks ago.’
‘Yes.’
‘Surely the journey there and back is not so long? When were they expected to return?’
It was Abbess Draigen who confessed: ‘They are overdue. That is true, sister.’
‘Overdue?’ Fidelma arched an eyebrow disdainfully. ‘And no one thought to inform me of this?’
‘It has no bearing on this matter,’ interposed the abbess.
‘I am the arbiter of what has or has not a bearing on the matter,’ replied Fidelma icily. ‘Have you had any word from the sisters since they left?’
‘None,’ replied Sister Síomha.
‘And when were they expected back?’
‘They were expected back after ten days.’
‘Have you informed the local
bó-aire?’
The question was
directed at Abbess Draigen. ‘Whatever you may think of Adnár, he is the local magistrate.’
‘He would be of no help,’ Draigen said defensively. ‘But nevertheless, you are right. He shall be informed that they are missing. Messengers often go between his fortress and that of Gulban which is on the road to Ard Fhearta.’
‘I shall be seeing Adnár shortly to discuss the matter we have touched on, abbess. I will inform him of this matter. Tell me, what are these sisters like? A physical description, if you please.’
‘Sister Comnat has been here at least thirty years. She is sixty or more years of age and has been our librarian and our chief penman for fifteen of those years. She is well skilled in her work.’
‘I need a more physical description,’ insisted Fidelma.
‘She is short and thin,’ replied Draigen. ‘Her hair is grey though her eyebrows still retain the blackness of their youth and the eyes, too, are dark. She has a distinctive mark, a scar on her forehead where once a sword cut her.’
Fidelma mentally ruled out the librarian as the headless victim.
‘And of Sister Almu?’
‘She was chosen to accompany Sister Comnat not only because she is her assistant but because she is young and stronger. She is about eighteen. Fair-haired and blue-eyed with pleasing features. She is a little on the short side.’
Fidelma was silent for a moment.
‘The headless corpse could have been eighteen years old. It gave the impression of fairness and was short in stature.’
‘Are you claiming that this headless corpse is Sister Almu?’ demanded the abbess in disbelief.
‘It is not!’ snapped Sister Síomha.
‘Almu was a close friend of my steward,’ Draigen explained. ‘I am prepared to believe that she would recognise the body of Almu.’
Fidelma folded her arms determinedly.
‘Since we like to play with semantics, mother abbess, let me be precise. I am saying that it could be Sister Almu. You say Almu is an assistant to the librarian and worked copying books?’
‘Yes. Sister Almu promises to be one of our best scribes. She is highly proficient in her art.’
‘There was blue staining on the fingers of the hand of the corpse. Would that not point to the corpse having worked with a pen?’
‘Staining?’ interrupted Sister Síomha in annoyance. ‘What staining?’
‘Do you tell me that you did not notice the blue stains on thumb, index finger and along the edge of the little finger where it would rest on paper? The blue-black of an ink? The sort of stain someone who practised penmanship might have?’
‘But Sister Almu is with Sister Comnat at Ard Fhearta,’ protested the abbess.
‘She is certainly not among the community of this abbey, that much is certain,’ Fidelma commented dryly. ‘Are you sure that no one recognised the body?’
‘How can one recognise the body without a head?’ Sister Síomha demanded. ‘And if it was Almu, I would know. She is a close friend of mine, as the abbess has said.’
‘Perhaps you are right,’ conceded Fidelma. ‘But as to recognising a body without a head, why, I have just shown you one method of recognition. I will acknowledge that, in a religious community, one’s first and usually only contact with the physical features of a fellow religious is with the face. But I would ask, didn’t the thought ever occur that, as these sisters were overdue, there was a remote possibility that this body, which had marks of being a member of the Faith, was that of your assistant librarian?’
‘Not even a slightest’ thought,’ replied Sister Síomha stiffly. ‘Neither does your suggestion make it so. You have provided no proof that the body belongs to Almu.’
‘No, that is so,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘What I am doing at this time is putting forward some hypotheses based on the information that I am now getting. Information which,’ she held Abbess Draigen’s eyes a moment and then turned to Sister Síomha who now dropped her gaze, ‘information which should have been given me freely, instead of this wasting of time with the sins of self-regard.’
‘Why would anyone want to stab and decapitate Sister Almu and thrust her body down a well?’ demanded the abbess. ‘If it is the body of the sister, that is.’
‘We have not been able to prove it was Almu. And we doubtless will not until we find the other part of the corpse.’
‘You mean her head?’ asked the abbess.
‘I have been told that when the corpse was taken from the well, no one was allowed to draw water and that the community has used the other springs hereabouts?’

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