‘No pleasure
that deed I did, tormenting her,
tormenting her I treasure…’
Fidelma came upon a young man sitting on a rock by the stream. He heard the snap of a twig beneath her feet and swung his face round, flushing crimson as if he had been caught in a guilty deed.
‘Greetings, Tadhg,’ Fidelma said, recognising him.
He frowned; the crimson on his cheeks deepened. ‘You know me?’
Fidelma did not answer, for that much was obvious. ‘I am Sister — ’
‘Fidelma,’ broke in the young man. ‘News of your arrival has spread. We are a small community.’
‘Of course. How well did you know Ernán?’ she went on without further preamble.
The young man hesitated. ‘I knew him,’ he said defensively.
‘That’s not what I asked. I said, how well? I already presume that everyone in this community knows each other.’
Tadhg shrugged indifferently. ‘We grew up together until I went to the bardic school, which has now been displaced by the monastery founded by Finnan the Leper.’
‘The place called Finnan’s Height? I knew of the old school there. When did you return here?’
‘About a year ago.’
‘And presumably you renewed your friendship with Ernán then?’
‘I did not say that I was his friend, only that we grew up together, as most people here of my age did.’
‘Does that mean that you did not like him?’ Fidelma asked.
‘One does not have to like everyone one knows or grows up with.’
‘There is truth in that. Why didn’t you like him?’
The young man grimaced. ‘He was arrogant and thought himself superior to…to…’
‘A poet?’ supplied Fidelma.
Tadhg looked at her and then lowered his eyes as if in agreement.
‘He was a farmer and thought strength and looks were everything. He called me a weak parasite fit for nothing, not even to clean his pigsty. Most people knew how arrogant he was.’
‘Yet I am told that Ernán was well liked and had no enemies in the world.’
‘Then you were told wrong.’
‘I was told by Blinne.’
‘Blinne?’ The young man’s head jerked up and again came an uncontrollable rush of blood to his cheeks.
Fidelma made an intuitive leap forward.
‘You like Blinne very much don’t you?’
A slightly sullen expression now moulded the young poet’s features.
‘Did she tell you that? Well, we grew up together, too.’
‘Nothing more than an old friendship?’
‘What are you saying?’
‘Saying? I am asking a question. If you disliked Ernán so much, you must surely not have approved of Blinne being married to him.’
‘You would soon find that out from anyone in the community,’ admitted Tadhg sullenly. ‘I do not deny it. Poor Blinne. She did not have the courage to leave him. He dominated her.’
‘Are you saying that she did not love him?’
‘How could she? He was a brute.’
‘If she disliked the marriage, there are nine reasons in law why she could have divorced him and more why she could have separated from him.’
‘I tell you that she did not have the courage. He was a powerful, controlling man and it is poetic justice that he was taken by the Banshee, whether you call it Banshee or wolf. That he was a beast and the stronger beast of the night attacked him and tore out his throat was poetic justice.’
The young man finished his speech with defiance.
‘Poetic?’ Fidelma gazed thoughtfully at him. ‘Where were you the night before last?
Where were you when Ernán was killed?’
‘In my house. Asleep.’
‘Where is your house?’
‘Up on that hillside.’ He raised an arm to gesture in the direction.
‘Was anyone with you?’
The young man looked outraged. ‘Of course not!’
‘A pity,’ Fidelma said softly.
‘What do you mean?’ Tadhg blinked, disconcerted.
‘Just that I would like to eliminate you from the vicinity of Ernán’s farmstead. He was murdered, his throat cut, and you have just given me a very good reason why you might be suspected of it.’
Now Tadhg’s face was suddenly drained of blood. ‘I was told that he had his throat ripped out,’ he said quietly. ‘I presumed that it was by a wolf, although many superstitious people are talking about the Banshee.’
‘Who told you that this was how he died?’
‘It is common talk. You say he was murdered? How can you be so sure?’
Fidelma did not bother to answer.
‘Well, I did not do it. I was in my bed, asleep.’
‘If that is the truth, then you have presented me with another suspect,’ she said reflectively.
‘Blinne.’
Tadhg swallowed rapidly. ‘She would never…that is not possible. She had not enough courage to divorce Ernán. She was too gentle to strike him down.’
‘Human beings react in peculiar ways. If not Blinne, nor you, then who else had cause to hate Ernán, a man who was supposed to have no enemies?’
Tadhg raised his hands in a helpless, negative gesture.
‘I will want to see you again later, Tadhg.’
Fidelma turned and resumed her progress along the path, her brow furrowed in thought.
Bláth had already left Glass’s mill when Fidelma reached there.
The miller was a genial, round-faced man of middle age with twinkling grey-blue eyes, which might well have been the reason for his name, which indicated such a colouring. He was a stocky man, clad in a leather apron and open shirt, his muscles bulging as he heaved a sack of flour into a cart.
‘A bad thing, Sister, a bad thing,’ he said when Fidelma introduced herself.
‘You were a close neighbour of Ernán, I believe.’
The miller turned and pointed. From where they stood the ground began to descend slightly towards the broad river across some fields to where an elm grove stood. ‘That is Ernán’s farmhouse, the building among those trees. We are scarcely ten minutes’ walk away from each other.’
‘And were you a friend of his?’
‘I saw young Ernán grow to manhood. I was a friend of his father and mother. They were killed when Crundmáel of Laighin came raiding along the Siúr in his battle boats in search of booty. Only Ernán survived out of his entire family and so he took over the farm and continued to make it prosperous. Blinne, his wife, is my niece.’ He grinned briefly. ‘So is Bláth, of course.’
‘And Ernán was well liked?’
‘Not an enemy in the world,’ Glass replied immediately.
‘He and Blinne were happy?’
‘Never happier.’
‘And Bláth lived with them?’
‘She could have come here to live, but Blinne and Bláth were always close. There is only a year between them and they are almost like twins. Blinne wanted her sister to be with her and Ernán did not mind, for she helped with the farm work. But why do you ask me these questions?’
Fidelma did not answer. ‘Tell me about the Banshee,’ she said.
Glass smiled briefly. ‘I heard the sound only too well.’
‘When did you first hear it?’
‘I would not want to hear that sound more than once.’
Fidelma frowned. ‘You heard it only once?’
‘Yesterday morning about dawn.’
‘Not before the morning Ernán was found dead?’
‘No. Only that one morning. That was enough. It wailed like a soul in torment.’
‘What did you do?’
‘Do? Nothing at all.’
‘You weren’t curious?’
‘Such curiosity about the Banshee can endanger your immortal soul,’ replied Glass solemnly.
‘When did you realise that Ernán was dead?’
&nb
sp; ‘When Brother Abán came to tell me and asked me if I had heard anything in the night.’
‘And you were able to tell him that you had?’
‘Of course.’
‘But only yesterday morning?’
Glass nodded.
‘As a matter of interest, if Ernán was the only survivor of his family, I presume that his farm passes to Blinne?’
‘Blinne is his heir in all things,’ agreed Glass. His eyes suddenly flickered beyond her shoulder in the direction of what had been Ernán’s farmstead. Fidelma turned and saw a figure that she initially thought was Blinne making her way up the hill. Then she realised it was a young woman who looked fairly similar.
‘Bláth?’
Glass nodded.
‘Then I shall go down to meet her, as I need to ask her some questions.’
Halfway down the path were some large stones which made a natural seat. Fidelma reached them at the same time as Bláth and greeted her.
‘I was coming back to my uncle’s mill, for Blinne told me that you had gone there in search of me. You are the dálaigh from Cashel, aren’t you?’
‘I am. There are a few questions that I must ask you. You see, Bláth, I am not satisfied about the circumstances of your brother-in-law’s death.’
Bláth, who was a younger version of the attractive Blinne, pouted. ‘There is no satisfaction to be had in any death, but a death that is encompassed by supernatural elements is beyond comprehension.’
‘Are you sure we speak of supernatural elements?’
Bláth looked surprised. ‘What else?’
‘That is what I wish to determine. I am told that you heard the wailing of the Banshee for three nights?’
‘That is so.’
‘You awoke each night and investigated?’
‘Investigated?’ The girl laughed sharply. ‘I know the old customs, and turned over and buried my head under the pillow to escape the wailing sound.’
‘It was loud?’
‘It was fearful.’
‘Yet it did not wake your sister or your husband?’
‘It was supernatural. Perhaps only certain people could hear it? Glass, my uncle, heard it.’
‘But only once.’
‘Once is enough.’
‘Very well. Were your sister and Ernán happy?’
Fidelma saw the shadow pass across Bath’s face.
‘Why, yes.’
There was hesitation enough and Fidelma sniffed in annoyance. ‘I think that you are not being truthful. They were unhappy, weren’t they?’
Bláth pressed her lips together and seemed about to deny it. Then she nodded. ‘Blinne was trying to make the best of things. She was always like that. I would have divorced Ernán, but she was not like that.’
‘Everyone says that she and Ernán were much in love and happy.’
‘It was the image they presented to the village.’ She shrugged. ‘But what has this to do with the death of Ernán? The Banshee took him.’
Fidelma smiled thinly. ‘Do you really believe that?’
‘I heard — ’
‘Are you trying to protect Blinne?’ Fidelma snapped.
Bláth flushed.
‘Tell me about Tadhg,’ Fidelma prompted, again sharply, so that the girl would not have time to collect her thoughts.
‘You know…?’ Bláth began and then snapped her mouth shut.
‘Did this unhappiness begin when Tadhg returned to the village?’
Bláth hung her head. ‘I believe that they were meeting regularly in the woods.’
‘I think that you believe a little more than that,’ Fidelma said dryly. ‘You think that Tadhg and Blinne plotted to kill Ernán.’
‘No!’ Bláth’s face was crimson. ‘There was no reason. If things became so unbearable, Blinne could have sought a divorce.’
‘True enough, but there was the farmstead. If Blinne divorced Ernán, she would lose it.’
Bláth sniffed. ‘You know the laws of inheritance as well as I do. Land cannot pass to a female heir if there are male heirs.’
‘But in Ernán’s case, there were no male heirs. The land, the farmstead, would go to the banchomarba, the female heir.’
Bláth suddenly gave a deep sigh of resignation. ‘I suspected something like this might happen,’ she confessed dolefully.
‘And you invented the story of the Banshee to throw people off the scent?’ queried Fidelma.
Bláth nodded. ‘I love my sister.’
‘Why not claim an attack by a wolf? That would be more feasible.’
‘Anyone would realise the wound in Ernán’s throat was not the bite of a wolf. Questions would be asked of Blinne and…’
‘Questions are now being asked.’
‘But only by you. Brother Abán was satisfied and people here would not question the old ways.’
‘The old ways.’ Fidelma echoed the words thoughtfully.
The girl looked nervously at Fidelma.
‘I suppose that you intend to have Blinne and Tadhg arrested?’
‘Tonight is the funeral of Ernán. We will see after that.’
‘You have some doubts still?’
Fidelma smiled sadly. ‘We will see,’ she said. ‘I would like a word alone with your sister.’
Bláth nodded towards the farmstead. ‘I forgot something at my uncle’s mill. You’ll find Blinne at the farmhouse.’
The girl left Fidelma and continued up the path to the mill while Fidelma went on to the farmhouse. As she approached, she heard Blinne’s voice raised in agitation.
‘It’s not true, I tell you. Why do you bother me so?’
Fidelma halted at the corner of a building. In the farmyard she saw Tadhg confronting the girl. Blinne looked distracted.
‘The dálaigh already suspects,’ Tadhg was saying.
‘There is nothing to suspect.’
‘It was obvious that Ernán was murdered, killed by a human hand. Obvious that Bláth was covering up with some story about a Banshee. It did not fool me, nor will it fool this woman. I know you hated Ernan. I know it is me that you really loved. But surely there was no need to kill him? We could have eloped and you could have divorced him.’
Blinne was shaking her head in bewilderment. ‘I don’t know what you are saying. How can you say this…?’
‘I know. Do not try to fool me. I know how you felt. The important thing is to flee from this place before the dálaigh can find the evidence. I can forgive you because I have loved you since you were a child. Come, let us take the horses and go now. We can let Bláth know where we have gone later. She can send us some money afterwards. I am sure the dálaigh suspects and will be here soon enough.’
With a thin smile, Fidelma stepped from behind the building. ‘Sooner than you think, Tadhg,’ she said.
The young man wheeled round and his hand went to the knife at his belt.
‘Don’t make it worse for yourself than it already is,’ snapped Fidelma.
Tadhg hesitated a fraction and let his hand drop, his shoulders slumping in resignation.
Blinne was gazing at them in bewilderment. ‘I don’t understand this.’
Fidelma glanced at her sadly and then at Tadhg. ‘Perhaps we can illuminate the situation?’
Blinne’s eyes suddenly widened. ‘Tadhg claims that he has always loved me. When he came back from Finnan’s Height he would waylay and annoy me like a sick dog, mooning after me. I told him that I didn’t love him. Is it…it cannot be…did he…did he kill…?’
Tadhg looked at her in anguish. ‘You cannot reject me so, Blinne. Don’t try to lay the blame for Ernán’s death on me. I know you pretended that you did not love me in public, but I had your messages. I know the truth. I told you to elope with me.’ His voice rose like a wailing child.
Blinne turned to Fidelma. ‘I have no idea what he is saying. Make him stop. I cannot stand it.’
Fidelma was looking at Tadhg. ‘You say you had messages from Blinne? Written messages?’
He shook his head. ‘Verbal, but from an unimpeachable source. They were genuine, right enough, and now she denies me and tries to blame me for what has happened…’
Fidelma held up her hand to silence him. ‘I think I know who gave you those messages,’ she said.
After the burial of Ernán, Fidelma sat on the opposite side of the fire to Brother Abán in the tiny stone house next to the chapel. They were sipping mulled wine. ‘A sad story,’ sighed Brother Abán. ‘When you have seen someone born and grow up, it is sad to see them take a human life for no better reason than greed and envy.’
‘Yet greed and envy are among the great motivations for murder, Brother.’
‘What made you suspect Bláth?’
‘Had she said that she heard the Banshee wail once, it might have been more credible because she had a witness in her uncle who heard the wail. All those with whom I spoke, who had claimed to have heard it, said they heard it once, like Glass did, on the morning of Ernán’s killing.
The so-called Banshee only wailed once. It was an afterthought of Bláth’s once she had killed her brother-in-law.’
‘You mean that she was the one wailing?’
‘I was sure of it when I heard hat she had a good voice and, moreover, knew the caoine, the keening, the lament for the dead. I have heard the caoine and know it would have been only a small step from producing that terrible sound to producing the wail associated with a Banshee.’
‘But then she claimed she had done so to lay a false trail away from her sister. Why did you not believe that?’
‘I had already been alerted that all was not well, for when I asked Blinne about her sleep, I found that she had not even awoken when Ernán rose in the morning. She slept oblivious to the world and woke in a befuddled state. She was nauseous and had a headache. Blinne admitted that both she and Bláth knew all about herbal remedies and could mix a potion to ensure sleep. Bláth had given her sister a strong sleeping draught so that she would not wake up. Only on the third night did an opportunity present itself by which she killed Ernán.
‘Her intention all along was to lay the blame at her sister’s door, but she had to be very careful about it. She had been planning this for some time. She knew that Tadhg was besotted by Blinne. She began to tell Tadhg an invented story about how Blinne and Ernán did not get on. She told Tadhg that Blinne was really in love with him but could not admit it in public. She hoped that Tadhg would tell someone and thus sow the seeds about Blinne’s possible motive for murder.’
The Banshee (sister fidelma) Page 2
