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Authors: Peter Tremayne

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

Master of Souls (39 page)

BOOK: Master of Souls
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The librarian turned curiously in their direction.
‘We do have such a manuscript,’ he confirmed.
‘Is it up to date? I am interested in the children of Eoganan.’
Brother Eolas shook his head.
‘It is as up to date as time allows. My assistant and I have much to do in maintaining the records of the library and there was the fire …’
‘Can we see it now?’ interrupted Conr
.
Brother Eolas sniffed in irritation at Conri’s demanding manner.
‘The library is closed. You will have to return tomorrow.’ He inclined his head in farewell to his companions and turned on his heel.
Sister Buan and Sister Uallann seemed to decide their presence was no longer required, muttered an excuse, and also left, leaving Conr
looking a little crestfallen.
‘I thought that it might have given us some further information,’ he
explained. ‘There might have been some line of descendants that I’ve forgotten about. Anyway, it doesn’t alter the fact that it was the figure of Uaman that the old man Ganicca identified as riding with Olcán.’
Eadulf was shaking his head in disagreement but he said: ‘There must be a means of getting Olcán to talk further about this master.’
Fidelma was not optimistic.
‘I doubt it.’ She found that the steward, who had waited outside so that he could ensure the cell was locked, was still standing with them. ‘We will not detain you further, Brother Cú Mara,’ she said, bidding him good night before leading the way back to the hospitium. Once out of earshot of the steward she lowered her voice.
‘I’ll wait until tomorrow, but I now realise that I may have something up my sleeve that might induce our friend Olcán to talk. He has a close relation in the abbey and that fact may induce him to speak.’
Conr
and Eadulf stared at her in surprise but her expression forbade any further questioning.
 
 
Brother Cú Mara reached for the key and unlocked the cell door.
It was dark inside. The lamp had been allowed to go out, so the steward held up the candle he had brought with him.
The first thing that Fidelma, who was standing at his shoulder, noticed was that Olcán was sitting on his bed with his back to the wall. He was slightly slumped forward. Then she saw a dark stain on his tunic just below his heart.
She called to the steward to stand aside, took the candle from his hand, and went forward. She knew what she would find even before she touched the cold body.
‘He’s dead,’ she announced.
The steward let out a long gasp of breath.
‘A single stab to the heart,’ she continued, holding the candle nearer to the wound.
‘But he had no knife,’ protested Brother Cú Mara. ‘I made sure of that. Even when his food was brought to him, it was already cut.’
Fidelma turned with a grim face.
‘This was no self-inflicted wound. Olcán was murdered.’
The steward stared at her with wide, frightened eyes.
Fidelma was annoyed with herself for not pressing Olcán harder the evening before with her questions. She had thought of an idea which might have led the man to start talking, but she had kept it to herself, thinking to use it this morning if he was still uncooperative. Now it was too late. One thing she now knew for certain was that the Ui Fidgente warrior was a mere pawn in this strange mystery and not its chief architect. But her suspicion that whoever was behind the mystery was connected with the abbey itself seemed confirmed.
She gazed down a moment on the corpse and then turned to Brother Cú Mara.
‘You had better inform the abbot and also the physician, Sister Uallann.’ She glanced quickly round the cell before returning her gaze back to the dead body. ‘There is nothing more in here for me.’
Brother Cú Mara relocked the cell after they exited. As he was about to leave to find the physician Fidelma halted him.
‘One question for you, Brother Cú Mara — do you remember when I questioned you and Sister Sinnchéne together?’
Reluctantly, the steward nodded.
‘Do you have cause to visit the workroom where the members of the community polish and prepare gemstones?’
Brother Cú Mara was clearly puzzled by the question, but acknowledged that he did. ‘I am the steward. It is my task to see that everything is in order. I visit all the workshops regularly.’
‘Very well. You can find Sister Uallann now.’
She knew what she had to do first as she watched him hurry off in search of the physician. Her expression hardened a little as she walked towards the
hospitium
buildings.
She found Sister Sinnchéne engaged in the task of sweeping the floor.
‘I have some bad news for you,’ she announced without preamble.
Sister Sinnchéne straightened and returned her gaze uncertainly, perhaps with a little hostility. She waited in silence.
‘It is about your father,’ Fidelma said.
At that the young woman blinked but fought to control her features. She still made no reply.
‘It is about Olcán.’
Sister Sinnchéne’s chin came up defiantly.
‘What makes you think Olcán is my father?’ she demanded belligerently.
Sister Fidelma was unrelenting.
‘You fainted when you saw Conr
’s prisoner being brought into the abbey yesterday afternoon.’
The girl replied sourly. ‘There can be any number of reasons for fainting
‘But the one which caused you to pass out,’ Fidelma replied, ‘was the shock you had when you beheld your father in manacles.’
‘That is a weak reason to accuse me of being Olcán’s daughter.’
‘Then let me give you the other reasons. Olcán’s name means “wolf” and his warriors were known as the “wolf clan”. Your mother, I understand, died a few years ago of the pestilence. Didn’t she tell the merchant, Mugrón, that your father was named “wolf” and he was known as “chief of the wolf clan” and that is why you were named “little vixen”?’
Sister Sinnchéne stared at her for a moment or two and then it seemed she let her shoulders relax.
‘My father walked out on my mother when I was twelve years old. I had not seen him from that day until I saw him walk through the gates of the abbey as Conrí’s prisoner.’ She spoke slowly and clearly. ‘Even when my mother was dying of the Yellow Plague, he did not return, and that was well before the battle of Cnoc Aine when he could have easily come to us. He never came to her funeral. So what misdeeds he has done are nothing to me.’
Fidelma saw the bitterness in her eyes.
‘So for nearly ten years you have had no contact with him?’
‘I have said as much.’
‘But you could still recognise him?’
Sister Sinnchéne shrugged.
‘His image was burned in my memory all these years; years when I needed a father and prayed each day for his return. He had aged a little but I recognised him.’
‘Do you know why he deserted your mother and you?’
She shook her head. ‘The word was that he had led his warriors in raids to the north, against the U
Fiachrach Aidne, the U
Briúin Seóla and the northern clans. Then, after Eoganán fell at Cnoc Aine and the Uí Fidgente surrendered to Cashel, there was word that my father refused to swear allegiance to the new chief Donennach. I heard he was raiding in the south and in the war band of Uaman …’
‘Uaman the Leper?’
The girl nodded. ‘Uaman was not a leper then but simply Lord of the Passes on the southern Uí Fidgente borders.’
‘How did you come by this knowledge?’
‘I heard talk from travellers.’
‘Mugrón the merchant knew about your father,’ Fidelma pointed out.
‘He knew of my father because my mother told him. But I do not believe he could identify him. He knew only that my father had deserted my mother and me.’
‘How did your mother know Mugrón?’
‘Because, after my father left, my mother went to live near An Bhearbha, near the port where Mugrón has his base.’ She suddenly turned wide pleading eyes upon Fidelma. ‘Olcán has not recognised me, has he?’
Fidelma frowned at the question.
‘He has not mentioned you,’ she said truthfully. ‘Why do you ask?’
Sister Sinnchéne ignored the question. ‘Then I would ask you a favour. Do not reveal that I am his daughter.’
‘Why?’
‘Because if he did not want to acknowledge me, there is no reason for me to acknowledge him now.’
Fidelma gazed thoughtfully at her. ‘And are you telling me that during all these years you never told anyone here, in the abbey, that Olcán was your father?’
The girl raised her head a little but a colour sprang to her cheeks.
Fidelma smiled grimly. ‘There was someone, wasn’t there?’
Sister Sinnchéne hesitated and then nodded.
‘Was it Brother Cú Mara?’
To Fidelma’s surprise the girl shook her head. ‘The only person that I ever told was Cinaed.’
Fidelma was silent and then she said slowly, ‘You told the Venerable Cinaed?’
‘I did.’
‘In what context did this arise? When did you tell him?’
The girl spoke nervously.
‘I have told you about my relationship with Cinaed. We were talking about the changing situation in the lands of the Uí Fidgente and he was speaking of the stories that were being spread about Uaman. It was said that Uaman, in spite of his blemish in that he was a leper, was plotting to return the Uí Choirpre Áedba to the throne of the Ui Fidgente. The Uí Choirpre are—’
Fidelma raised her hand.
‘I know all about the two divisions of your chiefs,’ she said.
‘Very well. There were stories that Uaman was amassing wealth on the borders of the lands of the Corco Duibhne so that he could buy an army to lead the assault on Caola’s fortress which is Donennach’s capital.’
‘But how did your father’s name come into this?’
‘Cináed told me that he was just completing a book — this was just
before we celebrated the Nativity. In this book he said he would reveal how Uaman was raising his wealth and his army. He mentioned that he had heard that a warrior named Olcán was Uaman’s commander in this enterprise. I showed my horror and Cinaed pressed me on the point. I told him my story.’
‘What was his reaction?’
‘I told you that Cinaed and I felt for each other. He told me to put Olcán out of my mind. I did so until …’ She paused.
‘Until?’ pressed Fidelma quickly.
‘It was a few weeks before Cináed’s murder. There had been some travellers from the Corco Duibhne and they were talking of the rumours that Uaman the Leper had perished. Cináed was preoccupied with the news and kept asking me if I had heard any recent rumours about my father. I told him that I had heard nothing.’
‘Did he say anything further?’
‘He seemed fascinated by the stories that had spread about Uaman’s death and then stories of Uaman being alive again. He kept muttering something about “the old story might be true”.’
‘The old story might be true?’ Fidelma repeated. ‘Do you know what he meant by that?’
The girl shook her head. ‘I asked him and he simply smiled and said he had to look up something about trees in the library.’
‘Something about trees?’
‘Then he told me that Abbess Faife was taking her band of pilgrims to Bréanainn’s mount soon and they would be passing Uaman’s Island. He wanted me to go with them to see if I could identify Olcán if he dwelt there. Faife refused to take me. Although a friend of Cináed, she did not believe my … my relationship with him was right. That was the last time my father was mentioned by Cinaed. Then I saw Olcán coming into the abbey as a prisoner. It is true, as you say, that I recognised him and fainted.’
BOOK: Master of Souls
2.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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