Badger's Moon sf-13

by Peter Tremayne

  When she slid from her horse, he greeted her in his accented Irish. ‘Blessings on you, Fidelma of Cashel.’

  ‘It is not wise to be out alone, Brother Dangila,’ she replied in Greek without preamble. ‘The people are still afraid and we are no closer to resolving the matter of culpability. You should not have strayed beyond the boundaries of the abbey.’

  Brother Dangila inclined his head gravely.

  ‘I thank you for your concern, Fidelma of Cashel,’ he replied, now using Greek. ‘The God of Solomon will watch over me. I do not fear.’

  Fidelma looped the reins of her horse around a small shrub, turned to one of the stones which lay lengthwise and seated herself. The tall Aksumite resumed his previous position and regarded her without curiosity.

  ‘The abbot gave me assurance that you would not wander abroad from the abbey so that your safety would be guaranteed until this matter was resolved.’ she said irritably.

  ‘Is it solely in concern for my safety that you have come seeking me?’ he asked. There was a faint smile on his lips, which seemed to imply a hidden knowledge. For a moment, Fidelma felt awkward. Her eyes suddenly focused on his white woollen robe.

  ‘You are not wearing your beautiful silver crucifix today,’ she observed.

  Brother Dangila’s hand went immediately to his neck. He hesitated and then he nodded gravely. ‘I must have left it in the dormitory. Have no fear. It will be safe, for I believe I know where I left it. As I said, is it concern for me that has brought you hither?’

  ‘It is true that I wanted to speak to you anyway. So much was left unsaid when we last spoke.’

  An eyebrow lifted in interrogation was the only motion of the man’s features that indicated a reaction.

  ‘Are these the stones called the Ring of Pigs?’ she asked.

  ‘I believe that is the local name for them,’ replied the other gravely. ‘The stones do look like a litter of piglets around a sow.’

  ‘And this is where…?’ She left the question unfinished.

  ‘So I am told.’

  She waited a few moments and when the man did not speak she asked: ‘Do you often come to sit on this hillside and meditate?’

  ‘It is in the nature of my people to contemplate the works of the God of Solomon from whose seed my people descended,’ replied Brother Dangila. ‘Is it not written in the Book of Psalms — “When I look up at Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars set in their place by Thee, what is man that Thou should remember him?”?’

  The words of the psalm sounded beautiful in his Greek.

  ‘So you come at night to look upon the moon and the stars?’ she countered quickly, trying not to get diverted.

  Brother Dangila glanced at her with a smile. ‘You have a quick mind, Fidelma of Cashel.’

  ‘I presume that you were the one seen by Brocc that night?’

  ‘Have I admitted as much? Whoever Brocc saw, he must identify. Until he does, there is no more to be said.’

  ‘He is not able. You know that as well as I. What troubles me is that Escrach’s body was found close by here the next day, and before that the body of a girl called Beccnat.’

  ‘I give you my word that I did not kill them,’ came the quiet tone of the other.

  ‘Let us make a hypothesis then.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Brocc concludes that someone sitting looking up at the night sky was probably doing so for a sinister purpose, especially on the night of the full moon, and especially on the night when a young girl, his niece, was killed.’

  ‘What stirs this man Brocc’s thoughts is that which is within him,’ replied Brother Dangila. ‘I am not responsible for what thoughts he has.’

  ‘You might contend, though, that there is another, innocent explanation. Let us continue to hypothesise and see what innocent explanation there can be.’

  The Aksumite reflected for a moment in silence and then shrugged. ‘Let us say that the man might have been someone like myself, sitting gazing at God’s creation, and measuring the stars in their journeying across the heavens. His concern was what happened in the sky and not what happened on the earth. He might argue that he heard and saw nothing and, after a while, he went his way — in innocent ignorance of any evil-doing.’

  ‘You and your comrades are much concerned with the passage of the stars across the heavens?’

  ‘It is an ancient science, Fidelma of Cashel. Your people are adept at it, or so we have discovered. It may be — and we shall continue to hypothesise,’ he interspered with a smile, ‘it may be that what we have read in your ancient books, we might like to check with the practicality of the star map that God provides at night.’

  ‘Were you always a contemplative religieux?’ she asked abruptly.

  For the first time the features of the Aksumite dissolved in a broad grin.

  ‘I was thirty when I decided to join the religieux and thirty-three when I was enslaved and sent to Rome.’

  ‘What were you before?’

  ‘I worked in the great gold mines — King Solomon’s mines.’

  ‘Gold mines?’

  ‘In the shadow of Ras Dashen, our highest peak,’ confirmed Brother Dangila. ‘It was from Aksum that the great treasure temples of Solomon were supplied and King Solomon’s fabulous wealth was accumulated. Menellk, the son of Solomon by the Queen of Sheba, became our ruler. Our mines still supply the wealth of Aksum. My father was a mineworker and I followed him in his work. But I was not satisfied, and from one of the Holy Fathers who lived on the slopes of Ras Dashen I learnt more than how to spot a rich vein of gold or copper. I learnt Greek and a few words of Latin and I read some of the holy texts. I left the mountains and went to Adulis and the rest I have told you.’

  Fidelma was thoughtful, ‘I would like to know exactly how all three of you decided to come to the abbey of Finnbarr.’

  ‘I thought I had told you. The answer is simple. The abbey holds the works of your scholar Aibhistín and we wanted to study them, having seen references to his work in other tracts.’

  ‘Indeed, you have told me this before. How did you know that they were here?’

  ‘At the house of Molaga we learnt much about your culture and the fact that you, too, were fascinated by the courses of the stars in the heavens. Exactly as I say, we saw references to Aibhistín’s work. By some happy coincidence, a man from this place was staying in the house of Molaga and we spoke with him. It was he who persuaded us to come to the abbey.’

  ‘Oh? Was it one of the religious from the abbey?’ She decided to test out what Brother Túan had told her.

  ‘It was not,’ Brother Dangila said at once. ‘It was the young man…the prince, I forget what you call him in your own language. Accobrán is his name.’

  ‘He told you that the works of Aibhistín were held in the abbey?’

  ‘He did. We owe him much for that information. They are fascinating works, especially the tables on the moon and the tides. I have never seen another treatise that concisely explains the tides in relationship to the phases of the moon.’

  Fidelma exhaled softly.

  ‘You seemed troubled, lady,’ remarked Brother Dangila astutely.

  ‘If young girls had been slaughtered in your land, Brother Dangila, in the way they have been slaughtered here, would you not also be troubled?’

  The tall man inclined his head.

  ‘It is of little use to you, lady, but I would take an oath by the power of the Ark of the Covenant, which shelters in the nameless holy place of my land…I would take an oath that my comrades and I had nothing to do with these terrible killings in this place. Yet I would say that in my own land, we, too, would be suspicious of strangers in similar circumstances.’

  ‘An oath is of little use. While I might believe you the people here do not.’

  ‘They are fearful because the colour of our skin is different.’

  ‘More important, it is because you are strangers to this place and people ar
e afraid of strangers. Are your own people, in Aksum, not afraid of strangers?’

  ‘Perhaps some are. Aksum stands at a crossroads of many cultures and many religions, lady. We have learnt to live in harmony with most of our neighbours whatever they look like and whatever language they speak or whatever god or gods they follow.’

  ‘That surely sounds like an ideal place to dwell,’ agreed Fidelma, a little sarcastically. ‘Yet if you have learnt to live in harmony with all your neighbours, how is it that you were taken, with your fellows, and sold as slaves?’

  Brother Dangila shook his head with a slight smile. ‘Even in the Garden of Eden there was a serpent.’

  ‘There is much wisdom in your words, Brother Dangila.’

  ‘We are taught in the sayings of Solomon that there are seven things the Lord God hates: a proud eye, a false tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that forges thoughts of mischief, feet that run swiftly to evil, a false witness telling lies, and one who stirs up quarrels between brothers.’

  ‘Words of wisdom are meaningful in any language,’ agreed Fidelma.

  ‘One cannot be responsible for the dark thoughts of all one’s brothers and sisters. There are many in Aksum and along the seaports trading in human cargoes. Many owners of slaves are members of the Faith. In our world, Sister, there are many ways of becoming a slave. Sometimes people sell their children to escape debts. Then some people sell themselves into slavery to escape the insecurity of life or to seek a position in life. I was unlucky. My companions and I were kidnapped. Unfortunately we were in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, a bishop of the New Faith in Rome bought us.’

  ‘Ah, and he tried to set you free?’

  Brother Dangila laughed uproariously. ‘He was a slave owner. No freedom for us. He preached the words of Paul of Tarsus to us. “Every man should remain in the condition in which he was called. Were you a slave when you were called? Do not let that trouble you but, even if a chance of liberty should come, choose rather to make use of your servitude.” He only decided to sell us to the Frank when we became too rebellious and attempted to strike for liberty. Perhaps you would like to see our backs where the leather whip lacerated us for our impertinence in believing that we should be free men?’ He acknowledged Fidelma’s momentary look of distaste. ‘I will not inflict the sight on you, Fidelma of Cashel. It is my cross to bear. As I have already told you, that is why we were on the high seas bound for some God-forsaken place called Frankia when the ship foundered and we found refuge on your shore.’

  Fidelma was sad. ‘While our law refuses to allow men and women to be bound in servitude, transgressors often lose the rights to be as free men and women. Sometimes, unscrupulous merchants have been known to gather up people and sell them overseas to where the use of slaves is the way of life. I have been to the Saxon kingdoms, to Rome and even to Iberia, so I have seen something of the world beyond these shores. It is not a good world.’

  ‘You would do well to remember that this land is not separated from the rest of the world but shares the sins of humanity in equal proportion,’ commented Brother Dangila drily.

  Fidelma smiled wanly. ‘Well spoken, Brother Dangila. You are right, and you remind me of our frailty and, indeed, of my task. Let us return to the hypothesis that we were discussing.’

  ‘I will not change my views.’

  ‘I do not ask that. I am simply going to work on the hypothesis that it was you that Brocc saw. You see, Brocc was not the only person abroad on this hillside that night who will be called to witness.’

  Brother Dangila regarded her with a stony expression. ‘Let that witness also come forward and make identification. If so, we may drop this game of hypothesis for I was told that a Brehon only went by what was a proven fact.’

  ‘Let us say that I am speculating. I also speculate that your defence would be that you were merely looking at the stars out of your interest in such matters.’

  ‘As you please.’

  Fidelma turned in seriousness towards him. ‘Then let me add this warning, Brother Dangila. If my speculation is found to be false in any point then I can become as a bolt of lightning striking a tall oak. No matter how tall the oak, lightning can be a powerful force. I think you understand me.’

  ‘You have made it clear, Fidelma of Cashel. You are a woman of firm belief and courage. I admire you for it.’

  Fidelma was about ask why Brother Dangila had been in Accobrán’s wagon when there was a sudden cry from the edge of the woods. The next moment, a horse bearing Accobrán, sword in hand, came bounding out of the trees. A second horseman was following close behind. Eadulf was maintaining his seat with difficulty.

  Brother Dangila sprang up. To Fidelma’s surprise, the tall Aksumite made to place himself before her in a protective attitude, ready to defend her from the attack.

  ‘Wait!’ cried Fidelma, grabbing hold of Brother Dangila’s hand in which a sharp throwing knife had appeared. Then she shouted to the oncoming tanist. ‘Put up your sword! Stop, I say!’

  Accobrán drew rein, slid from his mount and stood, sword still in hand, ready to threaten Dangila. Eadulf came to a halt beside him and half tumbled, half dismounted from his own horse.

  ‘What does this mean, Accobrán?’

  ‘Are you all right, lady?’ demanded the tanist.

  ‘Of course I am,’ replied Fidelma in annoyance. ‘What are you doing threatening Brother Dangila with your sword? Sheathe it, I say. I am in no danger.’

  Accobrán’s eyes were filled with suspicion.

  ‘How long have you been here with Brother Dangila?’ demanded the tanist, still not obeying.

  Fidelma shook her head. ‘Long enough to have a talk.’ She glanced at Eadulf, who had recovered his composure and now came to her. ‘Eadulf, can you explain this behaviour, since Accobrán will not?’

  Eadulf had relief etched into every feature of his face as he grasped her hand.

  ‘We were worried for your safety…’

  ‘Why? I do not understand. Did I not tell you that I would be safe?’

  ‘Lesren has been found…’ Eadulf hesitated as if trying to find the right words.

  ‘Been found? For God’s sake, explain!’

  It was Accobrán who finally answered. ‘Lesren the tanner was found a short time ago. His throat has been cut.’

  Chapter Ten

  After Brother Dangila had been escorted back to the abbey, Fidelma accompanied Eadulf and Accobrán to the tannery of Lesren by the banks of the river. It was Eadulf who cynically pointed out that Fidelma might have come on Brother Dangila after he had killed Lesren. The hill overlooking the abbey was but a half-hour’s walk from the tannery where Lesren’s body had been discovered.

  ‘I do not discount any fact, Eadulf,’ Fidelma replied, ‘but why on earth would Brother Dangila want to kill Lesren?’

  Eadulf opened his mouth and then, as he thought about the question, shut it.

  ‘The death of Lesren would be a significant development,’ Fidelma said, after a pause.

  ‘I do not understand, lady.’ Accobrán was frowning.

  ‘If the killing of Lesren is part of this pattern of killings, then we must reconsider our popular theory.’

  Seeing their incomprehension, Fidelma motioned to the blue autumnal sky above them.

  ‘When was the body found?’ she asked.

  ‘A little after midday.’

  ‘And when was Lesren last seen?’

  ‘Just after the noon meal and…oh.’ Eadulf cut himself short and then sighed. He flushed in embarrassment. ‘His death could not be ascribed to any lunatic killing. It is out of sequence with the killings at the full moon.’

  ‘Exactly so.’

  Eadulf suddenly hit his balled fist into the cupped palm of his other hand as a thought struck him. He forgot he was on horseback and the horse shied nervously as the movement tugged on the reins. He struggled to bring the animal under control.

  Fidelma regarded him with amusement.<
br />
  ‘Gabrán! The boy had good reason for killing Lesren. There is the possibility that, after our visit this morning, Gabrán might have been so angry that he went to have it out with Lesren.’

  The thought had already occurred to Fidelma. The boy had certainly been angry that Lesren was still accusing him of the death of Beccnat.

  Accobrán seemed impressed. ‘I think Brother Eadulf’s suggestion is worthy of investigation.’

  ‘Certainly, nothing should be discounted,’ Fidelma said. ‘But we know that Lesren’s accusation was false, so Lesren’s death is not part of the pattern of killing.’

  ‘I suppose that motive can be ascribed to Fínmed as well,’ sighed Eadulf as he thought more about the matter. ‘All three, Goll, Fínmed and Gabrán, felt an anger and hatred towards Lesren which might be a motive for this crime.’

  ‘On the other hand, there may be no connection with any of these matters at all,’ Fidelma reminded him. ‘We must consider this development very carefully. But, as yet, I have heard no details at all. You have still to tell me how you came by the knowledge of Lesren’s death.’

  It was Accobrán who explained. ‘After we left you, we had just returned to the fortress when one of Lesren’s workers came to find me. It was he who reported the matter. So we rode to check whether it was true. Lesren’s body was at the edge of the woods just behind the tannery. Seeing that we could do nothing further for the man. thinking that you might be in danger, we came straight away to find you.’

  ‘And the man who found the body?’

  ‘We left him looking after it and rendering what comfort he could to Bébháil, Lesren’s wife.’

  They had joined the road which stretched along the riverbank and came once again to the collection of wooden buildings that constituted the tannery of Lesren. The drying hides were still stretched on the frames about the buildings but there was no sign now of anyone working at the framing or the dyeing.

  ‘Where is the body?’ Fidelma demanded, as they halted outside Lesren’s bothán, and dismounted.

  Accobrán indicated the edge of the wood. Even before he spoke, a man appeared from the cover of the trees and waved to them.