Badger's Moon (9 page)

Accobrán the tanist, who was clearly bored with the whole proceedings, rose and stretched. ‘Just tell the
dálaigh
why you believe the strangers had a hand in the murder of Escrach and we can make an end to this matter.’

‘Why?’ A crooked smile spread over the face of Brocc. ‘Why? Because I saw the murderer!’

There was shocked silence in the mill room.

Accobrán the tanist was the first to recover.

‘You have never said this before, Brocc,’ he said accusingly. ‘You have never said that you actually saw the murderer.’

The heavy-featured man returned his look defiantly.

‘I was never asked before, tanist of the Cinél na Áeda. I know what I know. Did you think that I would go to the abbey for no apparent reason?’

‘Others certainly thought that you did,’ replied Fidelma quietly. ‘Most people believe that you were simply prejudiced against the strangers. Your own words seemed to imply that you were. Now for the first time you say you saw the murderer.’

Brocc’s sneer was comment enough on what he thought of other people.

‘So tell us, Brocc,’ Eadulf took up the questioning again, ‘tell us about this murderer and why you did not come forward to explain your evidence before. You saw the murder but you let your brother go looking for his missing daughter. We were told that it was Goll the woodcutter who found the body. Explain all this, for I am confused.’

Fidelma glanced appreciatively at Eadulf. The discrepancy between Brocc’s actions and the story he now told was clear.

Brocc was not put out by the question.

‘I said, I saw the murder
er
not the murder,’ he said with emphasis.

Eadulf shook his head slightly, as if bewildered. ‘Now what are you saying? How can you see the one without the other?’

‘You’d better tell us your story in detail,’ instructed Fidelma slowly and deliberately. ‘Make it simple and clear. I do not want to play some game of semantics.’

Brocc scowled. ‘I have no understanding of what you are saying.’

‘I want no word games. Either you saw the killer or you did not. Which is it?’

‘On the day Escrach was killed, I was doing some trade up on the River Bride, to the north of here,’ Brocc replied. ‘My brother will confirm it. By the time I returned, it was night. I was coming over the hill we call the Thicket of Pigs, which you can see from the doorway here, and the moon was full.’

‘As a matter of clarification, as I am a stranger here, where were you heading?’ asked Fidelma.

‘To my
bothán
, which is on the edge of the clearing here.’

‘Had you known that Escrach was supposed to be visiting her aunt and have taken the path over the same hill?’

‘Not at that time,’ replied Brocc.

‘So you came across the hill?’

‘The path I was following came over the shoulder of the hill, overlooking the abbey below.’

‘Where is that in relation to the place where Escrach’s body was found?’

‘Escrach was found among some boulders, a ring of rocks, which is further up the hill on the same side. They are called the Ring of Pigs.’

Fidelma motioned him to continue when he hesitated.

‘There is little else to tell. I came over the hill and I saw one of the strangers, one of those from the abbey.’

‘What was he doing?’ demanded Eadulf curiously.

‘What was the stranger doing? Why, nothing. Just sitting there at the Ring of Pigs. His face was towards the moon. I should have known that this was unusual. I gave him greeting but he did not even reply to me. There was something sinister about the man. Just sitting there on the hillside in the moonlight, as if bathing his face in the light of the moon.’

‘So what did you do?’

‘I said a quick prayer and hurried on home to my cabin. It was the next morning that I heard that Escrach’s body had been discovered.’

There was a silence as Fidelma considered what she had been told.

‘From what you say, you saw this stranger seated on the hill. You did not see Escrach. However, the next day Escrach’s body was found at the same spot. Is that a fair summary?’

‘Exactly as I told you.’

Fidelma sighed. ‘It raises questions that need to be asked. But there is no evidence that Escrach and the man met, far less that the man killed her. The law requires evidence not theories. And did you tell your brother this story? You did not arouse the people to march on the abbey on that same day, did you? Why did you wait a month until another young girl had met her death before you acted?’

Brocc shook his head like a large shaggy dog. ‘I did not tell my brother. Not then. It was only after Ballgel’s death last week that I realised the significance of the full of the moon. Only with Ballgel’s murder on the night of the Badger’s Moon did I realise that there was a killer among us striking on each full of the moon. It was then that I suddenly realised what I had seen…the stranger sitting on the hillside bathing in the rays of the moon. Only then did it become obvious to me.’

‘Did you go to the abbey and identify the stranger?’ demanded Fidelma, still sceptical.

Seachlann intervened in support of his brother. ‘After Brocc had told me what he had seen that night, we all went then. The people went to demand that the strangers be handed over.’

‘Was that when you all attacked the abbey, when Brocc, here, was shot?’

‘It was.’

‘Why did you demand that all the strangers be handed over for punishment? Why not demand to see the strangers, identify the one you saw and ask for an explanation?’

‘The strangers are all alike,’ interposed Seachlann angrily. ‘They are all as guilty as each other.’

‘That is not a sound philosophy,’ pointed out Fidelma.

‘You have not met them.’

‘Then we will do so presently,’ Fidelma assured him. ‘But what you are saying is that you are not an eyewitness to Escrach’s death or, indeed, any of the deaths. When you saw the stranger in the moonlight he was alone.’

‘No man without evil intention would be sitting on a hillside in the full of the moon, just sitting and staring at the moon,’ protested Brocc.

‘There are many reasons why people do things that, to an outsider, may seem odd behaviour,’ Eadulf assured him. ‘Would it not have been better to have sought explanations rather than attempt to visit violence on the man…indeed, on him and his companions whom you did not see? The man might have a good enough reason for being on the hill at that time.’

‘What reason?’ sneered Brocc.

Eadulf smiled thinly. ‘Exactly! None of us knows if reason there be. And we should find out before leaping to conclusions. Escrach’s body was found at the same place, but where is the evidence that Escrach was even on the hill at the same time as the stranger?’

Seachlann shook his head in disgust. ‘You speak like all religious. A honey tongue coaxing us away from seeing things as they are.’

‘You should not fear truth, Seachlann,’ snapped Fidelma. ‘False tales are eventually discovered so we have no cause to protect that which is untrue.’

Eadulf nodded swiftly. ‘May I suggest this? Perhaps Brocc will accompany us to the abbey. It is high time that we spoke to these strangers against whom so much suspicion and anger are directed. Then Brocc can tell what he saw in front of the stranger and the stranger, whichever one of the three it was, can present his reasons if he has any. Is that not a better, civilised way to proceed than running armed into the abbey baying for blood?’

The tanist Accobrán, who had sat quietly for a long time, rose with a positive smile. ‘Well said, Brother Saxon. That sounds an excellent idea. Do you object to this, Brocc?’

The millwright’s brother hesitated and kicked at the ground.

‘Whatever way gets to the truth,’ he growled in annoyance.

Fidelma looked relieved.

‘It is only the truth that we are all wanting to find, Brocc,’ she said quietly but firmly.

The abbey dedicated to the Blessed Finnbarr, nestling in the shelter of the tall hill about which they had heard so much, was not large. A wooden wall or palisade surrounded several buildings dominated by a large wooden chapel. The gates were shut and two stern-looking Brothers stood sentinel at a watchtower. Only when Accobrán was recognised did one of them shout down and the gates swung inwards.

A young, anxious-looking religious, a thin, wiry individual with fair hair and features, came out to greet them. He saw Brocc and immediately scowled at the millwright’s brother. Brocc stood slightly behind the tanist as if seeking shelter. The young man’s glance encompassed them all and then he addressed himself to the tanist.

‘
Deus tecum
, Accobrán. What brings you here – and in the company of that man?’ He indicated Brocc.

‘God be with you, Brother Solam. I bring the
dálaigh
from Cashel,’ Accobrán said. ‘This is Fidelma of Cashel and her companion, Brother Eadulf.’

The young man turned to Fidelma and Eadulf and smiled shyly in greeting. ‘Fidelma of Cashel?’ He almost stuttered in his nervousness.

‘This is Brother Solam, the steward of the abbey, lady,’ Accobrán announced.

The young man was bowing nervously to Fidelma. ‘Fidelma of Cashel.’ His voice was breathless. ‘Who has not heard of you?’

Fidelma looked positively embarrassed at the young man’s obsequiousness.

‘I should imagine that a great many people have not,’ she assured him with a serious expression, although something sparkled in her eyes. ‘We have come to see Abbot Brogán.’

‘I will inform him of your presence directly, lady. Please enter.’ Brother Solam hesitated a moment and glanced suspiciously towards Brocc and then at Accobrán. ‘Who will be responsible for the good behaviour of that man?’

‘I will,’ said the young tanist, shifting his hand ostentatiously to the hilt of his sword. ‘The brethren need have no fear of him while I am here.’

They followed Brother Solam into the courtyard beyond the gates as they swung shut behind them.

‘Please wait here a moment, and I will inform the abbot,’ Brother Solam instructed them.

‘Only Brother Eadulf and I want to see the abbot initially,’ Fidelma told him. ‘Accobrán and Brocc can wait here.’

‘It is warm at the smith’s forge,’ the Brother volunteered, indicating across the courtyard, where there was a seat and some shelter.

‘Good enough,’ agreed Accobrán. ‘Let me know when you require our presence, lady.’

Brother Solam frowned slightly, not understanding. Fidelma did not enlighten him of the proposal that she had discussed with Accobrán on their way to the abbey, and in a moment he hurried away.

A few minutes later, he was showing them into the presence of Abbot Brogán.

The abbot was still a handsome man in spite of his age and he welcomed them with a grave smile and courtesy.

‘This is an honour, Sister Fidelma. I have heard much of your work. I am told that even in Tara your name is known.’

‘I have done some small service for the High King,’ Fidelma acknowledged, as the abbot then extended his hand to Eadulf.

‘Welcome also, Brother. Forgive me, I find difficulty pronouncing Saxon names. They seem so difficult. Yet I have heard of you. You were at the great Council of Whitby, I believe?’

‘You have been well informed, abbot,’ said Eadulf.

‘Well, I am pleased that you have both accepted Becc’s invitation to come to Rath Raithlen. There is much evil in this place and panic has seized our people so that they forget all sense of proportion and shame and even attack us, the religious.’

‘Brother Solam has probably told you that we have brought Brocc, the millwright’s brother, with us?’

The abbot inclined his head gravely. ‘Indeed. And he has told me that the tanist Accobrán attends him with his sword, so we are not alarmed.’ He waved them to seats and asked Brother Solam to fetch wine or mead in accordance to their preference.

‘I am told that the abbey shelters three strangers, and that it is fear of these strangers that cause the people to attack you,’ began Fidelma.

‘Alas, people always fear the unknown, and hate is born out of that fear,’ said Abbot Brogán, after a pause to allow Brother Solam to distribute the beverages.

‘We would agree,’ Fidelma acknowledged. ‘Our task in coming here today is simply to assure ourselves that there is no other cause for the three visitors now under this roof to be suspected of involvement in the three deaths.’

Abbot Brogán stared at her for a moment in surprise. ‘Then you would have me send for the strangers to question them?’

‘That would be for the best,’ Fidelma said softly.

The abbot turned to his steward and gave orders for the strangers to be sought out and asked to attend him.

‘How long have you known these men?’ Eadulf asked.

‘They came here two months ago,’ the abbot responded. ‘I am not sure that I can say that I
know
any of them. They arrived here from Molaga’s house on the coast. They had been saved from a shipwreck, recovered and expressed a wish to study here. We have a library which some are envious of.’ He smiled when he saw Fidelma look surprised. ‘It is true that we are a poor community. No more than twenty of us at this house. But we have saved many wand-books and manuscripts which is our wealth and our claim to respect among the larger houses.’

‘So these visitors are strangers from beyond the seas?’

Abbot Brogán smiled broadly. ‘That you will see for yourselves.’

Just then Brother Solam entered again and stood aside, holding the door open.

‘The three guests are here, lord abbot,’ he intoned solemnly.

Three tall men entered the room, dwarfing the rest of the company. They were lean and muscular and wore their simple undyed white woollen robes with elegance, like royal apparel. Each wore an ornate crucifix of silver on a chain which was unlike any Fidelma had seen before, even in Rome. Their faces were strikingly handsome, their eyes watchful, but Fidelma found their expressions unfathomable, as if they had purposely eliminated all emotion from their features. They halted in a line before the abbot and, as if at a hidden signal, all three inclined their heads in deference at precisely the same time with one brief movement. They were physically intimidating but both Fidelma and Eadulf could not hide their momentary surprise at the ebony blackness of their skins against the white and silver of their apparel.

‘You summoned us, lord abbot?’

It was the man in the middle who spoke. He used the language of Éireann, although his tones were heavily accented.