Dancing With Demons (20 page)

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Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_NB_Fixed, #_rt_yes, #Adult, #blt, #Clerical Sleuth, #Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery, #Suspense, #Medieval Ireland

BOOK: Dancing With Demons
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B
rother Rogallach had been taken to have his wound dressed by the old physician, Iceadh, and Abbot Colmán had been summoned. The abbot had confirmed their identification of the old woman.
‘Poor Mer,’ he sighed. ‘I told you, Mer the Demented One was well-known as a scavenger around the kitchens of the houses of Tara, yet I have never heard of her deliberately breaking into pantries to steal food. She was mad, but she was harmless. Whoever did this terrible thing?’
‘We do not know,’ replied Fidelma. ‘I have yet to question Brother Rogallach in depth. However, it would appear that he must have entered the pantry a moment after it happened. The murderer was still in the souterrain and when Rogallach was about to enter, he was knocked unconscious.’
Abbot Colmán looked sad. ‘And it was the murderer who knocked him unconscious? Did he see him? Can he identify him?’
‘Unfortunately, he did not. Whoever did it came up behind him.’
‘Well, at least there is no need for you to question him further.’
Fidelma frowned, her query obvious on her features.
‘Of one thing we may be sure,’ Abbot Colmán said gravely. ‘The old woman’s death is unconnected with the assassination of the High King. So one of the other Brehons can undertake the investigation into her death and leave you clear to continue to pursue the matter of Sechnussach’s assassination.’
‘Can we be sure that there is no connection?’ mused Eadulf. ‘After all, the woman first appeared warning us that our presence here investigating the murder was unwelcome. It seems a coincidence that she should now be killed as well.’
‘She was crazy,’ the abbot assured him. ‘Maybe she was stealing from
the storehouse here and someone else, with the same intent, encountered her and panicked. There is obviously no other connection.’
‘I suppose so,’ Fidelma agreed. Eadulf thought she acquiesced perhaps a little too readily — but her expression discouraged him from saying anything. ‘Anyway, we still have to question Brother Rogallach on the matters related to Sechnussach’s assassination. That was why we had come to the kitchen in search of him.’
Abbot Colmán nodded. ‘I had forgotten. Well, let me know when you want to speak to him. Meantime, I will take care of …’ he waved his hand towards the pantry‘ … of this matter.’
They had been aware during this time that Torpach, the cook, was hovering nearby with an anxious expression, as if trying to judge the right time to interrupt their conversation. Abbot Colmán finally noticed him and turned with a frown.
‘What is it, Torpach? Do you wish to say something?’
The cook nodded unhappily. ‘Forgive me, Abbot … forgive me, lady …’
‘Well, speak, man!’ snapped Abbot Colmán, otherwise it would seem that Torpach would ask forgiveness of everyone.
‘I could not help overhearing that Mer was killed with a knife. I wonder if I could see it?’
‘See it?’ The abbot was astonished. ‘What for?’
Sister Fidelma smiled encouragement at the cook, who was obviously nervous about asking permission.
‘Why do you want to see it, Torpach?’
‘Well, lady, one of our kitchen knives is missing. To be truthful, it’s a favourite knife of mine for cutting meat. I reported it to Brother Rogallach but it has not been found.’
‘When did it go missing?’
‘Some time ago. I discovered it was missing the day after the death of the High King.’
‘At least we know which knife killed him. You saw it yourself,’ the abbot said grimly. ‘But you are welcome to look at the knife which killed Mer.’
He unwrapped it, for he had taken it as evidence.
‘You’ll see that it is a warrior’s knife,’ he went on. ‘I doubt if you would use it in your kitchen.’
Torpach glanced at it and then nodded sadly.
‘I am sorry to have bothered you,’ he said. ‘It was merely a thought as we have not found it. I was particularly fond of it.’
Fidelma looked sympathetic. ‘I understand. A favourite tool is a favourite tool in any art or craft. Did you also see the knife that killed Sechnussach?’
‘I did and it was not that one.’
‘Then I hope you find your own one again.’
Abbot Colmán re-wrapped the knife and, with a nod to Fidelma, went back to the yard outside where Mer’s body was being taken away.
After they left the kitchen, walking back towards the guesthouse, Fidelma was silent. Eadulf, conscious of her moods, said nothing. Then she halted abruptly and looked round, as if wondering where she was. One of the Fianna was passing by.
‘Where will I find the physician?’ she asked.
‘Iceadh, is it?’ asked the man.
‘It is. Where is his apothecary?’
‘You see the building with the blue-painted posts ahead of you?’ The man pointed. ‘Turn to your right and you will see a small building with a yellow sign, and there you will find the physician.’
Fidelma thanked him and began to hurry forward with Eadulf falling in step with her.
‘Have you thought of something?’ he asked.
‘Not really. I want to question Brother Rogallach now.’
‘I thought Abbot Colmán wanted to be informed?’
‘It wastes too much time to go back and inform him. But I think that I need to put my questions while things are clear in my mind.’
The apothecary of Iceadh was easy to find.
The old physician himself opened to Fidelma’s knock and let them into a room packed with shelves of jars and bottles and with drying herbs hanging from all the beams. Although it was daylight outside, it was as if they were entering a darkened cave. Several lamps were burning and their heated tallow smell, combined with the powerful odours of a myriad of plants, caused them to catch their breath. It reminded Fidelma of old Brother Conchobhar’s apothecary at Cashel. In answer to her question, the old physician replied in his curious staccato manner.
‘Brother Rogallach is resting a moment. Given him a restorative. Superficial wound. Cut will heal in a day or two. Cleaned it. Bandaged it.’ He indicated a door into another chamber in the wooden building.
It was a small, simply furnished room with two wooden beds, a table and chairs. It was clearly where Iceadh treated his seriously ill patients. Brother Rogallach was sitting on the edge of one of the beds, holding his bandaged head in one hand while the other held an empty glass from which he had apparently been taking Iceadh’s medication.
The physician went to him, took the glass and nodded in satisfaction.
‘Good, good. You may return to your own chambers, Brother. Lie down a while. No work. Not until tomorrow. Might have a headache. No matter. Bad blow. You’ll be all right.’
Fidelma glanced at the pale face of Rogallach.
‘Can we speak with him a moment?’ she asked.
The physician shrugged. ‘If he wishes. I have things to clear up.’ He went out and Fidelma pushed the door shut behind him before turning back to the patient.
‘How are you feeling now, Brother Rogallach?’
‘Better, lady. Has the person who attacked me been caught?’
‘I am afraid not.’
‘But Mer is dead?’
‘Yes, I am afraid so. Did you know her?’ Fidelma asked.
‘Of course. Most people around Tara knew her.’
‘Do you know why she would be in the food cellar?’
Brother Rogallach gave a guffaw, then winced and put a hand to his head.
‘Mer would steal when she could not beg, and beg when she could not scavenge.’
‘So you think she had broken in to steal food?’
‘What other reason would there be?’
‘That is what I am trying to discover. We also have to place someone else in the
seallad —
the person who killed her.’
Brother Rogallach looked indignant. ‘I hope you don’t mean—’
‘What I mean is that I want to know who would be there and who would want to kill her?’
‘If anyone who worked in the
ircha
saw her, they would chase her out, certainly, but not without throwing her some bread or a piece of cheese, and she would go away cursing but content. They would not kill her nor attempt to kill me. It must have been some stranger.’
‘A stranger who infiltrated the royal enclosure in daylight?’ mused Fidelma.
‘If Dubh Duin could infiltrate the High King’s house at night, then anything is possible,’ replied Rogallach defensively.
‘Your point is a good one,’ agreed Fidelma. Then she added thoughtfully: ‘We either have Mer encountering a stranger in the
uaimh
or someone whom she knew and who did not want her to reveal that they were there. Since we are here, tell us about Bishop Luachan’s visit.’
Brother Rogallach looked startled. ‘I swore an oath to Sechnussach not to speak of it.’
‘Sechnussach is dead,’ Fidelma reminded him. ‘Maintaining your oath might be aiding his killer.’
Brother Rogallach examined her for a moment. Doubt and indecision were plain in his features. Then he shrugged.
‘Since you know that Bishop Luachan was here, then you must know all I know.’
‘Let us hear what happened, in your own words.’
‘It was the evening before the assassination. Sechnussach called me to him and told me that Irél, the captain of the Fianna, would arrive at the main gate around midnight. He would be escorting Bishop Luachan of Delbna Mór. I was to meet them at the gate and escort them to
Tech Cormaic
. Then I was to tell Irél to care for the horses, refresh himself and be ready to depart before dawn. I was to bring Luachan to Sechnussach in his bedchamber. I did so, and was told to wait outside and let no one in.’
‘Did the High King himself instruct you?’
Brother Rogallach nodded. ‘And not only that, but I was surprised when he closed his chamber door and locked it.’
‘So that was unusual?’
‘It was. Bishop Luachan was not a confidant of the High King. He never usually came to Tara. I would have known.’
‘You had no idea what business brought Luachan here?’
‘None at all.’
‘Was Luachan carrying anything?’
Brother Rogallach looked surprised. ‘You know that?’
‘Tell me.’
‘He was carrying a heavy saddlebag.’
‘Did you see the contents?’
Brother Rogallách shook his head, then winced and added: ‘Whatever it contained, he did not carry it away with him. The saddlebag was light on his arm when he left.’
‘So whatever the object or gift was, it was left in the possession of Sechnussach. Therefore, it should be in his chamber. But his chamber is empty. Who cleared it?’
‘I did,’ Rogallach said. ‘I cleared it with Brónach, but I can tell you there was nothing there that could account for the gift.’
‘It could not have been hidden somewhere?’
‘After Sechnussach had dismissed me, when Bishop Luachan had departed, it was approaching dawn. I had seen Irél and Bishop Luachan to the gate and then returned to my own chamber. I was just entering it when I heard the door of the High King’s apartments swing open. My room is at the far end of the corridor and I have a view of his door from there. I saw Sechnussach emerge and was about to call out to enquire if he needed me. But I noticed that he was carrying something heavy in his hands; I could not see what it was because it was wrapped in cloth. Something made me press back into my room for the manner in which he emerged was surreptitious. When I looked out, he had crossed the landing and disappeared down the stairs.’
‘Carrying the object?’
Brother Rogallach nodded.
‘You did not follow to see if you were needed?’
‘I concluded that he would have come to find me if he needed me. I believe that whatever it was Bishop Luachan had given him, he went to place it elsewhere than in his chamber.’
‘Did he have a special place for storing things? Treasures and the like?’ enquired Eadulf.
Brother Rogallach shook his head. ‘Not specifically. However, I did hear the door that led out to the kitchen open and concluded that he had gone outside.’
Eadulf leaned forward excitedly. ‘You suspect that he may have gone to the pantry … perhaps to the
uaimh
?
’
‘It is not beyond the realm of possibility,’ agreed Brother Rogallach.
‘But it is speculation,’ Fidelma pointed out, turning her remark to Eadulf.
‘You’ve absolutely no idea what it was that Bishop Luachan brought to the High King that night?’ pressed Eadulf, ignoring her.
Brother Rogallach sighed. ‘Only that it was a circular object. The only other person who would have such knowledge is Bishop Luachan himself.’

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