Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #Suspense

Suffer Little Children (16 page)

BOOK: Suffer Little Children

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Fidelma sighed deeply in exasperation.

âCome; it is surely logical? DacÃ¡n was of Laigin. Laigin has long held claims over Osraige. Perhaps Laigin was interested in placing the native kings of Osraige back in power if those kings turned their allegiance from Cashel to Laigin? Perhaps that is why Dacan was interested in the history of the kingship?'

Grella flushed and her mouth tightened.

Fidelma realised that she had been right and that Grella knew precisely what the old scholar had been studying.

âDacÃ¡n was sent here by Fianamail the new king of Laigin, or by his own brother Abbot NoÃ© of Fearna, who is the advisor to the new king, to gather the background on the kingship of Osraige so that a case might be presented against the Corco LoÃgde before the High King's assembly. Surely that is so?'

Grella remained silent, staring defiantly at Fidelma.

Fidelma abruptly smiled at the librarian.

âYou are placed in an awkward position, Grella. As a woman of Osraige, knowing this, you seem to indicate a support for the dispossessed native kings. But I think it is now clear why the Venerable Dacan had come to Ros Ailithir. So why was he killed? To prevent that knowledge being taken back to Laigin?'

Sister Grella's expression did not alter.

âCome, speak, Grella,' insisted Fidelma. âWe are all entitled to our opinions. You are a woman of Osraige. You doubtless have an opinion. If you supported the return of the native
kings then it would also mean that you had no motive to kill DacÃ¡n.'

Grella's eyes suddenly flashed angrily.

âI? I, kill Dacan? How dare you suggest â¦' She bit her lip and attempted to control her anger. Then she spoke quietly. âYes, of course I have an opinion. CiarÃ¡n's legacy hangs like a millstone around our necks. But I am no revolutionary to change things.'

Fidelma sat back. She found that she had taken a step forward but it had produced many new mysteries and puzzles.

âSo you provided Dacan with all the ancient texts he needed to help him gather this information for the new king of Laigin to lay a fresh claim for the return of Osraige before the High King?'

Sister Grella did not bother to reply but another thought struck Fidelma.

âDacÃ¡n was studying the texts and making notes to prepare a report to take back to Laigin, wasn't he?'

âI have admitted as much.'

âThen where did he keep all the notes and writings that he made?'

Sister Grella grimaced.

âIn his chamber at the hostel, I presume.'

âWould it surprise you to know there were only a few plain sheets of vellum, some writing materials, and nothing else except â¦'

Fidelma drew from her robe the short hazel wand she had found discarded in DacÃ¡n's chamber.

Grella took it, turning it over and examining the lettering.

âIt is part of the “Song of Mugain” who was daughter of CÃºcraide mac DuÃ, the first Corco LoÃgde king of Osraige. It lists part of the genealogy of the native kings of Osraige. I did not even know it was missing.'

She rose from her chair and went to a corner of the chamber
and started to looking through containers in which bunches of rods were held. She found one and peered through, making clucking sounds with her tongue.

âYes; it is a wand from this collection.'

âIt is in a curious style, more like a will than a genealogy,' Fidelma pointed out.

Grella's eyes narrowed.

âDo you understand Ogham?' she demanded sharply.

âI do.'

âWell, it is not a will.' Grella's voice was querulous. âThe symbolism is that of a poem.'

âIt would seem that DacÃ¡n had taken these wands back to his own chamber to transcribe and when he returned them he forgot one of the rods which had fallen to the floor in his room. Would that be a usual thing, his taking material to his chamber?'

Grella shook her head.

âUnusual. DacÃ¡n did not work in that way. He did not want anyone to know what he was working on and so he did not usually remove any material from the Tech Screptra. Usually he worked in this very chamber we now sit in. This is my private study as librarian. Nothing was ever removed from this room.'

âThen someone did remove at least one of the rods of this “Son of Mugain”,' Fidelma pointed out. âHow else could it have been found in DacÃ¡n's chamber?'

âI can make no answer to that question.'

âAnd are you saying that he never left his notes or writings here in the library?'

Sister Grella sat stiffly before her.

âI can assure you that I know nothing of that matter.'

âDid you know Assid, the merchant?'

The change of tack was so abrupt that Sister Grella asked her to repeat the question.

âI saw him at the evening meal on the night of DacÃ¡n's
death,' Sister Grella replied. âWhat has this man to do with the matter?'

âDid you observe if DacÃ¡n knew AssÃd?'

There was no reaction on Grella's features.

âAssÃd was from Laigin. Most people knew, or at least knew of, DacÃ¡n in that kingdom.'

âI believe that it was AssÃd who must have taken the news of DacÃ¡n's death directly to Fearna,' Fidelma continued. âThe news of his death travelled swiftly and only a fast sailing
barc,
taking the coastal route, could have reached Fearna in such a time.'

âI could not make a comment on that.'

âWell, could it be that AssÃd might have taken DacÃ¡n's notes with him?'

âAre you saying that AssÃd stole them?' demanded Grella. She did not seem surprised nor outraged.

âIt is a possible explanation.'

âPossible, yes,' agreed Sister Grella. âBut you are surely implying that AssÃd killed DacÃ¡n?'

âI have not reached such a conclusion yet.'

Fidelma rose from her seat.

Sister Grella regarded her impassively.

âSuch an explanation would allow the king at Cashel to wriggle off the hook of responsibility.'

Fidelma looked down at her with a trace of a smile.

âHow so?'

âWhy, if DacÃ¡n was killed by a man of Laigin then the Laigin claim for Osraige as DacÃ¡n's honour price would become irrelevant, wouldn't it?'

âExactly so,' agreed Fidelma solemnly.

She turned and left Sister Grella still seated in her chair and walked back through the stillness of the Tech Screptra, amid the sighing breaths, rustle of vellum leaves and scratching of quills.

A figure caught her eye among the racks bearing the book
satchels. The figure attracted attention mainly because it was obvious that it did not wish to be observed by her, Had it been examining the books she might not have taken any notice. But the figure was so ostentatiously trying to look like an earnest reader in the library that it was immediately worthy of a second glance. Well, if the figure so obviously did not want to be seen by her, Fidelma reasoned that she should not give notice that she had spotted it.

It was the young, eager Sister Necht.

Outside the gloomy, candle-lit Tech Screptra, the day had turned chill, the storm clouds suddenly bunching up from the west again, bringing a slow drizzling rain with them.

Fidelma groaned softly and began to hurry towards the hostel.

In the entrance chamber Brother Rumann had ensured that a slow burning fire had been lit in the great hearth. Fidelma was glad of its warmth, for the weather was truly disheartening. She wondered if Sister Eisten or the children had reappeared yet and made her way along to their chambers. The doors were open but the chambers stood empty.

Fidelma compressed her lower lip a moment. She realised that not only were the children's chambers empty but there was no sign that they had ever been occupied.

Frowning, Fidelma hurried along the corridor to the chamber which Brother Rumann used as his
officium.

The plump cenobite was seated before his
brandubh
board apparently working out some moves.

He glanced up in surprise as Fidelma entered after only the briefest of knocks.

âAh, it is you, sister.' His face wreathed in a smile and he glanced down at the board. âHave you come to challenge me to that match we spoke of?'

Fidelma gave a quick negative shake of her head.

âNot for the moment, Brother Rumann. I am more interested in where the children are.'

âThe children?'

âThe children of Rae na ScrÃne.'

His face seemed to reshape itself as if bewildered.

âWhy, the children were taken to Brother Midach after the midday meal. Did you want to see them before they left?'

âLeft? For where?'

âBrother Midach was going to give them a final examination, to ensure that there were no signs of the plague, and then Sister AÃbnat was to take them to the orphanage along the coast which is cared for by the good sister and Brother Molua. I think that they must have left by now.'

âHave they all gone?'

âI think so, sister. Brother Midach would know.'

Fidelma found herself hurrying in search of the abbey's chief physician.

Brother Midach turned out to have the rounded features of an entertainer rather than those commonly associated with a physician. They were certainly in keeping with Fidelma's general prejudice that all physicians were possessed of humour, for they were creased with many laughter lines. He was balding, so it was hard to see where his tonsure began and what was natural baldness. His lips were thin, the eyes warmly brown and humorous and there was a careless stubble on his cheeks.

Fidelma entered his chambers without knocking. The physician was alone, apparently engaged in mixing some herbs. He glanced up with a frown.

âI am Fidelma of Kildare,' she began.

The physician examined her carefully before replying, but did not pause in what he was doing.

âMy colleague, Brother TÃ³la has spoken of you. Are you seeking him?'

âNo. I am told that you examined the children from Rae na ScrÃne this afternoon. Is that so?'

The physician raised his dark, bushy eyebrows.

âThat is so. The abbot thought it was best to send them on directly to the care of Brother Molua, who has a house along the coast and cares for orphans. Sister AÃbnat was instructed to take them there. I was asked to examine them to see if they were fit.'

Fidelma showed her disappointment.

âSo they have all gone?'

Midach nodded absently as he continued to pulp leaves by grinding his pestle in a mortar.

âWe have no facilities for children here,' he explained in a conversational tone. âThe two little girls were very healthy,' he smiled. âAnd the sooner the young boy, Tressach, is with others of his kind, the happier he will be. Yes, they will be better off in the house of Molua.'

Fidelma was about to turn for the door when she hesitated and frowned at the chief physician.

Midach raised his head from the mortar, his eyes suddenly dark and fathomless.

âWhat two brothers?' he demanded. âThere were two sisters â¦'

âThe black-haired boys,' she interrupted impatiently. Midach pulled a doleful face.

âI know nothing of any black-haired boys. I was asked to examine the two girls and a young lad of eight years old.'

âYou saw nothing of a boy of fourteen and one of ten or so?'

Midach shook his head in mystification.

âDon't tell me that Brother Rumann has made some mistake and there were two other lads to be sent to Molua? I certainly have not seen them â¦'

Fidelma was already gone hurrying back to the hostel.

Brother Rumann started in surprise as Fidelma burst in on him again.

Brother Rumann regarded her with a woebegone expression then glanced down at his
brandubh
board. The pieces had been spilled from their positions, apparently by his jerk of surprise when Fidelma had burst through the door.

âReally, sister. A little patience. I had almost worked out a new ploy. A wonderful means of â¦'

He paused, observing, for the first time, her agitated expression.

BOOK: Suffer Little Children

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