âI would not like the children to be upset. Remembering that terrible event may unsettle them.'
Fidelma tried to be reassuring.
âI would not ask these questions if it were not important. I cannot guarantee that they will not get upset. Nevertheless, I must insist in this matter.'
Molua nodded slowly.
âShe has the right,' he explained to his wife. âShe is a
dálaigh
of the courts.'
AÃbnat looked unpersuaded.
âThen let me be with them when you ask these questions, sister.'
âOf course,' Fidelma agreed readily. âLet us go now and speak with them, just the two of us. Then they will not be intimidated.'
âAll right,' agreed AÃbnat, glancing at Molua. âYou can finish preparing the food for our guests while we do so,' she instructed.
AÃbnat led the way to the small chapel and called to the children playing there. At her call, two little girls and a sulky-looking boy detached themselves reluctantly from the throng of playing, shouting children. Fidelma could barely recognise them as the terrified children she had found among the ashes and ruins of Rae na ScrÃne. They came clustering round the skirts of AÃbnat and she led them towards a more isolated part
of the compound where a felled tree provided a great seat by a small, gushing stream which ran through the settlement to join the bigger river beyond.
âSit down, children,' instructed AÃbnat, as she and Fidelma seated themselves on the log.
The boy refused, continuing to stand and kick sullenly at the log. Fidelma noticed that the boy had a little wooden toy sword in his belt. The two little girls immediately sat cross-legged on the grass before them and stared up expectantly.
âDo you recognise this lady?' inquired AÃbnat.
âYes, she is the lady who took us away so the wicked men would not find us,' replied one of the little girls solemnly.
âWhere is Sister Eisten?' chimed in the other. âWhen is she going to visit us?'
âSoon.' Fidelma smiled vaguely, after AÃbnat had shot her a warning glance, shaking her head slightly. The children had clearly not been told what had happened to Eisten. âNow there are some questions I want to ask. I want you all to think carefully about them before you answer. Will you do that?'
The two girls nodded seriously but the boy said nothing, scowling at the log and not meeting Fidelma's smiling gaze.
âDo you remember the other two boys who were with you when I found you?'
âI remember the baby,' said one of the little girls gravely. Fidelma recalled that her name was Cera. âIt went asleep and no one could wake it.'
Fidelma bit her lip.
âThat's right,' she said encouragingly, âbut it is the boys that I am interested in.'
âThey wouldn't play with us. Mean, spiteful boys! I didn't like them.' The other little girl, Ciar, set her face sternly and sat with folded arms.
âWere they mean, those boys?' pressed Fidelma eagerly. âWho were they?'
âJust boys,' replied Ciar petulantly. âBoys are all the same.'
She gave a look of derision towards the little boy who ceased kicking at the log and sat down abruptly.
âGirls!' he sneered back.
âRemind me what your name is,' Fidelma encouraged with a smile. She had recalled the girls' names but she could not remember what the boy had been called.
âShan't say!' snapped the boy.
AÃbnat clucked her tongue in disapproval.
âHis name is Tressach,' she supplied.
Fidelma continued to smile at the boy.
âTressach? That name means “fierce and war-like”. Are you fierce and war-like?'
The boy scowled and said nothing.
Fidelma forced her smile to broaden.
âAh,' she said, with a little sarcasm, âperhaps I misheard the name. Was it Tressach or Tassach? Tassach means idle, lazy, one who can't be bothered to speak. Tassach sounds more like you, doesn't it?'
The boy flushed indignantly.
âMy name is Tressach!' he grunted. âI'm fierce and war-like. See, I already have my warrior's sword.'
He drew the carved toy sword from his belt and held it up for her inspection.
âThat is a fearsome weapon, indeed,' Fidelma replied, attempting to sound solemn though her eyes were dancing with merriment. âAnd if you are, indeed, a warrior then you will know that warriors have to obey a code of honour. Do you know that?'
The boy stared at her in uncertainty, replacing the sword in his belt.
âWhat code?' he demanded suspiciously.
âYou are a warrior, aren't you?' pressed Fidelma.
The boy nodded emphatically.
âThen a warrior is sworn to tell the truth. He has to be
helpful. Now if I ask you about the boys named Cétach and Cosrach, you must tell me what you know. It is the code of honour. You were obviously named Tressach because you are a warrior and bound by that code.'
The boy sat still seeming to ponder this and at last he smiled at Fidelma.
âI will tell.'
She breathed a sigh of relief.
âDid you know Cétach and Cosrach well?'
Tressach grimaced.
âThey wouldn't play with any of us.'
âAny of you?' queried Fidelma, frowning.
âAny of the children in the village,' supplied Ciar. âBoys!'
Tressach turned on her angrily but Fidelma interrupted.
âDidn't they come from the village?'
Tressach shook his head.
âThey only came to our village a few weeks ago to live with Sister Eisten.'
âWere they orphans?' demanded Fidelma eagerly.
The boy looked blankly at her.
âDid they have a mother or father?' pressed Fidelma.
âI think they had a father,' the little girl named Cera chimed in.
âWhy so, darling?' prompted Fidelma.
âShe means that old, old man who used to come to the village to see them,' supplied the boy.
âAn old man?'
âYes. The old man who brought those mean boys to Sister Eisten's house in the first place.'
Fidelma leant forward eagerly.
âWhen was this, darling?'
âOh, weeks ago.'
âWhat did he look like?'
âHe had a cross, like the one you're wearing, around his neck,' Cera gave a look of triumph towards Tressach.
The boy grimaced in annoyance at her.
âWho was he?' Fidelma did not really expect the children to answer the question.
âHe was a great scholar from Ros Ailithir,' announced Tressach with an air of complacence.
Fidelma was astonished.
âHow do you know this?' she asked.
“Cos Cosrach told me when I asked. Then his brother came up and told me to shut up and go away and if I told anyone about his
aite
he would hit me.'
âHis
aite
? He used that word?'
âI'm not making it up!' sniffed the boy petulantly.
Fidelma knew that the term of endearment,
aite,
was an intimate form of address for a father. But because, for centuries, young children in the five kingdoms of Ãireann had been sent away for fosterage, to gain their education, the intimate words for âfather' and âmother' were often transferred to the foster-parents, so that the foster-mother would be addressed as
âmuimme'
and the father as
âaite'.
âNo, of course you are not making it up,' Fidelma reassured him, many thoughts racing through her mind. âI believe you. And how would you describe this man?'
âHe was nice looking,' supplied Ciar. âHe would not have hit us. He was always smiling at everyone.'
âHe looked like an old wizard!' declaimed Tressach, not to be outdone.
âHe was not! He was a jolly old man,' chimed in Cera, evidently fed up with being left out of the conversation for more than her fair share of time. âHe used to tell us about the herbs and flowers and what they were good for.'
âAnd this jolly old man came to visit Cétach and Cosrach often?'
âA few times. He visited Sister Eisten,' Ciar corrected. âAnd it was me he told about herbs,' she added. âHe told me about, about â¦'
âHe told everybody,' replied Tressach scornfully. âAnd those boys were living at Sister Eisten's house, so visiting them was the same thing as visiting Sister Eisten! There!'
He stuck out his tongue at the little girl.
âBoys!' sneered Ciar. âAnyway, sometimes he brought another sister with him. But she was strange. She was not really like a sister!'
âGirls are so stupid!' grunted the young boy. âShe was dressed like a sister.'
Sister AÃbnat caught Fidelma's eye. She obviously felt that the questioning had continued long enough.
Fidelma held up a hand to prevent the argument developing.
âAll right now. Just one more thing ⦠are you sure the man came from Ros Ailithir?'
Tressach nodded vehemently.
âThat's what Cosrach told me when his brother threatened to punch me.'
âAnd this sister who accompanied him? Can you describe her? What was she like?'
The boy shrugged disinterestedly.
âJust like a sister.'
The children seemed to lose interest now and scampered away in the direction of the sister who was playing the reed pipe.
Fidelma, deep in thought, accompanied AÃbnat back to where Molua had laid the table for their meal. AÃbnat seemed totally bewildered by the conversation but did not question Fidelma further on the matter. Fidelma welcomed the silence as she turned the facts over in her mind. As they entered, Cass looked up and examined Fidelma's perplexed expression.
âDid you get the information you want?' he asked brightly.
Fidelma laughed dryly.
âI do not know what information I wanted,' she responded. âBut I have gathered another stone to build my cairn of
knowledge. Yet one which does not make sense at the moment. No sense at all.'
The meal which AÃbnat and Molua provided was comparable to the feasts that Fidelma had enjoyed in many a feasting hall of kings. She had to force herself to eat sparingly for she realised that it was a ten-mile ride back to Ros Ailithir and riding on a full stomach was not good for the body. Cass, on the other hand, gave himself unchecked to the meal and accepted more of the heady
cuirm
spirit.
AÃbnat quietly attended to their wants while her husband excused himself and disappeared to look after some mysterious errand.
When Molua brought out their horses, they found that the big farmer had watered, fed and groomed the animals.
Fidelma thanked both AÃbnat and Molua profusely for their hospitality and swung into the saddle.
Fidelma gave their erstwhile hosts a blessing and they began to turn their path back towards Ros Ailithir.
âWhat did you learn, Fidelma?' demanded Cass, once they were out of earshot, crossing the river's ford and ascending across the wooded hills which crowned the large headland.
âI found out, Cass, that Cétach and Cosrach were taken to Rae na ScrÃne just a few weeks ago to live with Sister Eisten. They are â¦' she paused to correct herself, âThey were the sons of Illan.'
âBut the brother at Sceilig Mhichil said that Illan's sons had copper-coloured hair, like the little girls.'
âAnyone can dye hair,' observed Fidelma. âMoreover, they were several times visited by someone from Ros Ailithir. Cosrach boasted to the boy Tressach that the man was a scholar. That someone Cétach and Cosrach called
aite
!'
Cass looked amazed.
âBut if this person was their father then they were not the sons of Illan. Illan was killed a year ago.'
âAite can also mean foster-father,' Fidelma pointed out.
âPerhaps,' Cass said reluctantly. âBut what does it mean and how does it fit the puzzle of this murder?'
âIt would be no puzzle if I knew,' Fidelma reproved. âThe man was sometimes accompanied by one of the sisters. There is a path here which leads to Intat! And we know that Intat is Salbach's man. There is a circle here if only we could find a way of entering it.'