The Subtle Serpent (19 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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Sister Berrach paused but Fidelma made no retort, waiting for the girl to continue.
‘At first the physician said I could not live and then he said I should not live. My mother could not nurse me in her community. My father did not want to have anything to do with me. After my birth he even left my mother. So I was raised by my grandmother but she was killed when I was young. I survived and was brought to this abbey when I was three years old and here Brónach raised me. I survived and I have lived. This community has always been my home so long as I can remember.’
There was a quiet sob in the girl’s voice. Fidelma now understood why Sister Brónach always seemed protective towards the girl.
‘Now tell me what happened at the tower,’ she pressed gently.
‘Each night, before dawn, while most of the community are still sleeping, I rise and go to the library,’ Berrach confided. ‘That is when I devote myself to reading. I have read almost all of the great books in our library.’
Fidelma was surprised.
‘Why wait until near dawn to go to the library to read?’
Berrach laughed. There was no mirth in it.
‘They think I am a simpleton who can’t even think let alone read. I have taught myself to read my own tongue and I can also read Latin, Greek and even some Hebrew.’
Fidelma gazed thoughtfully at her but the girl did not seem to be boasting, simply stating fact. An extraneous thought abruptly crossed Fidelma’s mind.
‘Did you know that this abbey has a copy of the annals of Clonmacnoise?’
Sister Berrach nodded immediately.
‘It is a copy made by our librarian,’ she volunteered.
‘Have you read it?’
‘No. But I have read many other books there.’
‘Go on,’ Fidelma sighed in disappointment. ‘You were saying that you rise and go to the library before dawn. Are you not frightened to be alone in such a place?’
‘There was always a sister on watch in the tower above. Recently,’ she shivered, ‘it has been Sister Síomha who took most of the night watches. Before these events there was no physical danger to fear in this place.’
Fidelma grimaced.
‘I was not concerned with physical danger. What of the knocking sound under the
duirthech
which frightened the sisters the other day? I am told that it has been heard before.’
Sister Berrach thought for a moment.
‘The sounds have been heard before but infrequently. Abbess Draigen says it is some underground cave which fills with water but sometimes the sisters are scared by it. It does not scare me nor should it scare anyone who cleaves to the Faith.’
‘That is laudable, sister. Do you accept the abbess’s explanation that it is caused by an underground cave filling with water from the inlet?’
‘It is a possibility. More of a possibility than those who talk
of the restless spirits of victims of pagan sacrifices which they believe were once enacted here.’
‘But you are not sure? Not sure that it is only water in an underground cave?’
‘Sometimes, like the other day in the
duirthech
, the abbess makes her explanation sound plausible. At other times, especially when I am in the library at night, the sound is fainter, but more like the tapping of someone hacking at rock or digging. But whatever it is, it is a sound produced by earthly agents, so why should I be afraid of it?’
‘Just so. And you went, as usual, to the library this morning?’
‘Yes, in the hours before dawn. I tried to be as quiet as possible for I did not wish to alarm the sister on duty at the water-clock. Especially when it was Sister Síomha who dislikes me more than most.’
‘When did you enter the library this morning? Can you be fairly exact?’
‘As near as I recall, I had heard the second hour strike, and perhaps the first quarter of the hour after that. I am not sure. It was not later than the third hour, of that I know, for I do not recall it being struck.’
‘Go on.’
‘I went into the library and found the book I wanted …’
‘Which was?’
‘Do you want the name of the book?’ frowned Sister Berrach.
‘Yes.’
‘The
Itinerary
of Aethicus of Istria. I took the book to a small table in a corner. I usually choose this spot in case someone enters unexpectedly and then this can give me time to conceal myself. I was reading the passage of how Aethicus came to Ireland to observe and study our libraries when it occurred to me that time was passing. I had heard no gong sounded by the keeper of the clepsydra. I went to the foot of the stairs and listened. Everything was quiet. Too quiet.’
Berrach paused and rubbed her cheek absently for a moment.
‘I felt that something was wrong. You know how one can suddenly get a feeling? I decided to go up to investigate …’
‘Even though you did not want anyone to know you were there, least of all Sister Síomha?’
‘If something was wrong, it was better not to ignore it.’
‘And what did you do with the book?’
‘I left it on the table where I was reading it.’
‘So it will still be there? Very well. Go on.’
‘I climbed the stairs as carefully as I could into the room where the clepsydra was kept. I thought I saw Sister Síomha lying on the floor.’
‘You
thought
?’ stressed Fidelma.
‘The body had no head. But I did not see that at once. I saw only a body in the dress of a sister. I knelt down by it to feel her pulse, thinking that she must have passed out - perhaps fainted for lack of food or some other cause. My hands touched her neck, cold, not quite icy cold but a clammy coldness. Then I felt something sticky. I was feeling for her head …’
Sister Berrach’s voice caught and she shuddered at the memory.
‘Holy Mother of Jesus, protect me! I realised at that moment that Síomha had been slain in the same manner as the corpse found in the well. I think that I cried aloud in my horror.’
‘And then you ran down the stairs?’ Fidelma prompted.
‘Not immediately. As I cried out, I heard a sound behind me in the room. I turned, my heart beating rapidly. I saw a shadow, a cowled head and shoulders, slipping quickly below the level of the floor down the stairway.’
Fidelma leant forward quickly.
‘Was this head and shoulders male or female?’
Berrach shook her head.
‘Alas, I do not know. It was so gloomy and the movement
was hurried. I was not in the mood to investigate further. I was frozen with fear. That I was alone in the dark with the monster who did this deed put the very fear of eternal damnation into me. I do not know how long I knelt there in the dark by the body. Some time must have passed, no doubt.’
‘You just knelt there in the dark? You did not move or cry out?’
‘Fear is a strange controller of your body, sister. Fear can make the lame run, the physically active freeze like a cripple.’
Fidelma acknowledged this with an impatient gesture.
‘Then what, Berrach?’
‘Finally, I rose to my feet, feeling the blood in my veins course like ice. I do not know how long this was, as I have said. I wanted to sound an alarm and was going to strike the gong. I lit the lanterns. Then I heard another noise.’
‘A noise? What sort of noise?’
‘I heard the thud of a door. I heard footsteps beginning to ascend the stairs. I heard them coming closer. My thought, my true thought, sister, was that the murderer was returning - returning to ensure that I would say nothing.’
She paused and seemed to have difficulty in breathing for a moment or two but then she recovered herself.
‘Then my fear, instead of rooting me to the spot, as it had before, lent me strength. I turned and clambered down the stairs as fast as I could. I remember seeing a figure ascending. I thought it was the cowled figure returning. That is the truth! I used all my strength to collide violently with it, so knocking it off balance, and allowing me time to effect my escape …’
‘Do you recall if this figure was carrying a light?’
Berrach frowned.
‘A light?’
‘A lamp or a candle?’
The girl gave it some thought.
‘I can’t remember. I think there might have been a candle.
Is it important? I heard it cry out. It was not until I was already across the courtyard that I realised that it had been the abbess.’
‘Why did you not return once you realised that fact?’
‘I was confused. After all, I had seen the cowled figure in the water-clock room. Perhaps it had been the abbess herself who was the killer. How was I to know?’
Fidelma did not answer.
‘I came here as fast as I could. I had just reached my cell when Brónach came in and asked me why I was upset. I told her and she said that she would go and discover what had happened. I was frightened in case the murderer had followed me.’
‘But the murderer did not. And surely you would have feared for Brónach’s safety going alone to the tower?’
‘I was confused,’ repeated Berrach.
‘Why then did you barricade yourself in?’
‘I heard the noise of the community being awakened. There were lights in the tower and then in the dormitories. I was about to come out when I heard one of the sisters, I think it was Lerben, calling - “Sister Síomha has been killed by Berrach!” I knew then that I was doomed. What chance has someone like me to justice? I will be punished for something that I have not done.’
Fidelma regarded her thoughtfully.
‘One more question, Berrach. Did you see anything peculiar about Sister Síomha’s body? Apart from the decapitation, that is?’
Berrach wrenched her thoughts momentarily away from her fears and peered questioningly up at Fidelma.
‘Peculiar?’
‘Perhaps something similar to the way the nameless corpse in the well was left,’ prompted Fidelma.
Sister Berrach thought cautiously for a moment.
‘I do not think so.’
‘I mean, did you notice anything tied to her left arm?’
The girl’s bewilderment seemed genuine enough as she shook her head.
‘Do you know anything about the old pagan customs?’
‘Who does not?’ replied Berrach. ‘In these remote places, away from the great cathedrals and towns, you should know that people still dwell close to nature, keep to the old well-trodden paths. Scratch a Christian here and you will find the blood is pagan.’
Fidelma was about to say something further when she heard sounds which seemed to be growing in volume. It was the noise of chanting voices coming from outside the building. She stared in astonishment as she listened. The voices were chanting a name. ‘Berrach! Berrach! Berrach!’
The sister gave a pitiful moan.
‘You see?’ she whimpered. ‘You see? They have come to punish me?’
‘Sister Fidelma!’
Fidelma recognised the voice of Sister Lerben as it cut through the noise. Slowly the chanting voices fell silent.
Fidelma stood up and went to the door. She glanced back at Sister Berrach and tried to smile encouragement.
‘Trust me,’ she reassured the girl. Then she pushed the table aside and opened the door.
Sister Lerben was standing at the far end of the corridor, some of her fellow novices were crowding behind her with lamps.
‘Are you safe, sister?’ demanded the young religieuse. ‘We were worried when we did not hear from you.’
‘What is the meaning of this unruly shouting? Disperse the sisters to their cells.’
‘The members of this community have come for the murderess. The slaughter of Sister Síomha cannot go unpunished. Bring out Berrach. Her sisters have decided that death shall be her only punishment.’
The young members of the community seemed almost possessed as they crowded at the end of the passage crying out Berrach’s name. Their hysteria was almost out of control and Fidelma felt anger as she realised that Draigen had done nothing to calm their fears. Lerben herself seemed to have fomented the illogical frenzy and now stood at the head of what was little more than a mob. There was no sign at all of the abbess.
‘The sisters have
decided
?’ Fidelma’s voice rose on a dangerously icy note.
Sister Lerben was emphatic. ‘The matter is now straightforward. The abbey has given refuge to a witch all these years, one who has repaid it by murder and pagan idolatry. She will receive just punishment. Your task is over.’
There was a murmur of assent from the religieuses crowding behind her. Fidelma saw that most of them were only frightened and out of their fearful state had come their hysteria. Sister Lerben had directed that overwhelming passion against Berrach. The sisters were barely controlled. They seemed about to surge forward. Fidelma planted herself firmly in the passage and held up her hand.
‘In the name of God, do you realise what you are doing?’ she shouted above their cries. ‘I am an advocate of the courts charged by your king and bishop to investigate this matter. Will you take justice into your own hands and commit a terrible crime?’
‘It is our right,’ retorted Sister Lerben.
‘Tell me how this can be so?’ Fidelma demanded. She reasoned that any dialogue was better than blind violence. ‘What is your right? You are just a novice in this abbey, without station. Where is Abbess Draigen? Perhaps she can explain your right?’
Sister Lerben’s eyes flashed angrily.
‘Abbess Draigen has retired to her chamber to pray. She has appointed me to act as
rechtaire
until she has recovered from this appalling shock. I am now in charge here. Hand over the murderess to us.’
Fidelma was appalled at the young girl’s arrogance.
‘You are young, Lerben. Too young to take the responsibility of this office. What you are suggesting is contrary to the law of the five kingdoms. Now calm yourself and instruct your sisters to disperse.’
To her surprise, Lerben stood her ground.
‘Didn’t Ultan, Archbishop of Armagh, and Chief Apostle of the Faith in the five kingdoms, decree that our church should follow the laws of Peter’s Church in Rome? Well, we have judged our erring sister by that ecclesiastical law and found her guilty.’
‘By what law?’ Fidelma could hardly believe her ears. Surely someone had prompted this young novice, who now claimed to be steward of the abbey, to go against all the laws of the land. She felt that she was embroiled in an argument with someone who claimed that the colour of a day sky was black and the colour of a night sky was white. Where could she find a point of logical contact?
‘By the law of the Holy Word!’ replied Lerben, unperturbed by Fidelma’s authority. ‘Does it not say in Exodus: “thou shalt not suffer a witch to live”?’
‘Has the abbess instructed you in this, Lerben?’ Fidelma challenged.
‘Do you argue with the Holy Word?’ replied the novice stubbornly.
‘Our Lord said, according to Matthew: “Judge not, that ye
be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged; and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again”’ Fidelma threw back the quotation at Lerben and then turned to the suddenly subdued religieuses behind her. ‘Sisters, you are being misled. Calm yourselves and return to your dormitories. Berrach is not the guilty one.’
There was some muttering among the sisters. Sister Lerben tried to restore her authority. Her face was red and angry for she had clearly hoped to win the sisters’ unquestioned respect and allegiance by her knowledge.
‘Do you reject the dictums of Ultan?’ she demanded of Fidelma.
‘Certainly, if they disagree with truth and the law of this land.’
‘Draigen is abbess here, and her word is law!’ replied the girl.
‘That is not so,’ returned Fidelma sharply, knowing that she had to defuse the situation quickly. The longer it was left festering the easier it would get out of hand. She realised that her suspicion was right. Draigen must have encouraged Lerben in this attempt to whip up fear against Berrach. The only way she could stop this dangerous situation was to attempt to exert her own authority. She repeated clearly: ‘I am appointed ultimately by your High King. I have come here at the request of your king and bishop; by the authority of the abbot of Ros Ailithir, if you respect no other. If you harm Berrach in any way, you, and all who act with you, will be responsible for kin-slaying.’
There was a murmur of consternation among the sisters. They knew enough law to realise that the crime of kin-slaying was one of the most serious in the criminal code of the five kingdoms. It deprived even the High King of his honour price, it was a lawful cause for the driving out of a king from his rank and office. The crucifixion of Christ was considered by the Irish as the ultimate kin-slaying for the Jews were regarded as the maternal kin of Christ. All the laws and
wisdom-texts from time immemorial stressed the horrendous nature of kin-slaying for the act struck at the very heart of the kin-based structure of society.
‘You would dare … ?’ Sister Lerben began uncertainly. ‘You would dare accuse us of that?’ But already she was losing support for the argument.
‘Sisters,’ Fidelma now addressed those crowding uncertainly behind Lerben. Since she now held their attention, there was little point in appealing to the inexperienced and arrogant novice. ‘Sisters, I have examined Sister Berrach and I believe that she is innocent of killing Síomha. She stumbled on the corpse just as, a moment later, Abbess Draigen did. She is no more guilty of the crime than Draigen. Do not let fear guide your logic. It is so easy to turn destructively on that which you fear. Disperse to your dormitories and let us forget this as a moment’s madness.’
The sisters looked at each other, perhaps somewhat sheepishly in the gloom, and some began to disperse.
Sister Lerben took a step forward, her mouth thin and set firm, but Fidelma quickly decided to maintain her advantage. She caught sight of the anxious Sister Brónach newly arrived, at the rear of the group.
‘Sister Brónach, I want you to escort Sister Lerben to her chamber while I go to see the abbess. That is an order by virtue of my rank,’ she added when Brónach hesitated. Then she deliberately turned her back and re-entered Berrach’s chamber. She stood just inside the door, her eyes closed, her heart beating fast, wondering whether she had completely defused the situation. Would Lerben make a further attempt to rally her supporters again and seize Berrach? There was a murmuring and shuffling in the corridor and then silence. Fidelma opened her eyes.
The girl was sitting on the bed shivering uncontrollably.
Fidelma glanced quickly into the corridor. It was empty. She exhaled long and deeply.
‘It’s all right,’ she said, turning back into the chamber and
seating herself on the bed next to Berrach. ‘They have dispersed.’
‘How can they be so evil?’ shuddered the girl. ‘They were going to take me out and kill me.’
Fidelma laid a hand on the girl’s arm in comfort.
‘They are not really evil. They are merely fearful. Of all the passions, fear weakens the judgment, especially when one is so young and inexperienced as Lerben.’
The girl was silent for a while.
‘Sister Lerben has never liked me. I cannot stay here now. You heard what she said? Abbess Draigen has made her the steward of the abbey now Sister Síomha is dead.’
‘An unwise, indeed, foolish choice,’ conceded Fidelma. ‘And I will talk about this matter with the abbess. Lerben is too young to be
rechtaire
. Wait a while, Berrach. The sisters will come to their senses and then they will feel remorse.’
‘If they fear me so much then that fear will never be diminished but grow into hate. I will never be safe here.’
‘Give them a chance. At least, allow me to speak with Abbess Draigen.’
Sister Berrach said nothing. Fidelma decided to take it as a sign of acceptance of her suggestion.
She rose and went to the door, glancing back briefly.
‘Will you be all right here for a short while?’ she asked.
Sister Berrach looked gloomy.
‘Deo favente
,’ she replied. ‘With God’s favour.’
Fidelma left the cell and walked grimly towards the Abbess Draigen’s chamber. Now that she thought about the matter, hot blood poured into her brain. She felt a rage at the conduct of the abbess. How could she have given such power to Lerben? How could she have induced the novice into encouraging her sisters to attempt nothing less than an act of murder? What hatred did the abbess feel for Berrach? Everywhere Fidelma looked a cloak of hatred hung about this place. She felt furious and then a thought came into her
mind. It was easy to fly into a temper but didn’t Publilius Syrus argue that one should always shun anger? Anger made people blind and foolish. She recalled the words of her mentor, the Brehon Morann of Tara: whoever experiences the white heat of anger will then experience the ice cold of regret. Better to be calm.
She had no sooner made the resolution than she found herself outside the door of Abbess Draigen’s chamber.
She thrust it open and marched in without knocking.
Abbess Draigen was sitting at her chamber, upright and stiff-backed, her mouth set determinedly. Sister Lerben was standing by the fire, evidently having eluded the escort of Sister Brónach. She stared with dislike as Fidelma entered and strode firmly into the room.
‘I will speak with you alone, mother abbess.’
‘I am …’ began Sister Lerben.
‘You are dismissed,’ snapped Fidelma.
Abbess Draigen let her eyes flicker towards the young novice and then made a dismissive motion with her hand. The young woman bit her tongue, almost bringing her teeth down painfully on her lower lip. She went, head high, from the room.
Before Fidelma could speak, Abbess Draigen’s face dissolved in wrath.
‘This is the second time you have interfered with the orders of someone appointed by me. Sister Lerben was appointed acting
rechtaire
in place of Sister Síomha.’
Fidelma smiled thinly against her anger.
‘Fear betrays unworthy souls,’ she replied as she seated herself.
Abbess Draigen grimaced.
‘This is also the second time that you have quoted your Latin philosophers at me.’
‘You did not allow me time to report on my interrogation of Sister Berrach before you allowed Lerben to whip up the fears of your community,’ Fidelma ignored her riposte.
‘What did you think she could achieve by inciting such a killing? Did you think that you, responsible for such an action as abbess, could do this without punishment?’
Abbess Draigen met her eye firmly.
‘I was aware that Lerben and her fellow sisters had condemned Berrach. They acted in accordance to the law of God. I would stand by their decisions. I believe that Berrach was guilty of killing Sister Síomha. The pagan signs spoke of evil. The book of Deuteronomy says that those that practise such evil are guilty of an abomination to the Lord and must be driven out. Sister Lerben was acting in accord with the teaching of the Archbishop Ultan. I approved of her actions. My authority is Armagh.’
Fidelma decided that there was wisdom in Aristotle when he said that anyone could give way to anger but the secret was knowing when to be angry with the right person to the right extent and in the right way. It was really Abbess Draigen whom she had to deal with. Young Sister Lerben was only her voice. Clearly, Abbess Draigen had told Lerben what to do. Yet this was not the time to be angry with Abbess Draigen either for her anger would merely meet with a brick wall.
‘Let us be clear that there is as much evidence to convict Berrach of the killing of Sister Síomha, at this time, as to convict you or Sister Brónach Your incitement of Lerben to violence is based on the hidden fears that others have because of poor Berrach’s deformity. It is not the way a member of the Faith should act. So I want you to guarantee that no harm will come to Berrach until I have finished my investigation.’
Abbess Draigen pursed her lips.
‘I shall not swear for it is against the Scriptures.’
Fidelma smiled cynically.
‘I know the passage to which you refer, mother abbess. It is the fifth chapter of Matthew. But while Christ said one should not swear by any sacred object he exhorted people to
say “yes” or “no”. Therefore, I shall exhort you to say “yes”, that you will guarantee the safety of Berrach. The other answer is “no” and, if this is so, then I shall have to refer the matter to Abbot Brocc at Ros Ailithir and safeguard Sister Berrach myself.’
Abbess Draigen sniffed angrily.
‘Then you have your “yes”. I shall say no more than that I will also refer this matter, not to Brocc, but to Ultan of Armagh himself.’

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