‘Is there anything wrong with Sister Gormán?’ she called to Fidelma.
‘I think she is in need of a friend to counsel her,’ replied Fidelma.
Sister Ainder actually smiled.
‘You do not have to tell me that. She has always kept to herself, even talking to herself at times as though she needs no other companion. But then, they say that true saints see and speak to angels. I would not condemn her for she might have more of the Faith then the rest of us put together.’
Fidelma was sceptical.
‘I think she is just a troubled soul.’
‘Yet madness can be a gift from God, so perhaps she is to be blessed.’
‘Do you think that she is mad?’
‘If not mad, then a little eccentric, eh? Look, there she is again, muttering her imprecations and curses.’
Sister Ainder pursed her lips and apparently did not wish to pursue the topic of conversation, for she changed the subject, remarking: ‘It seems that for a pilgrimage of religieux on our way to a Holy Shrine there is one thing missing on this voyage.’
‘Which is?’ asked Fidelma cautiously.
‘Religion itself. I fear that apart from a few exceptions, God is not with those on this voyage.’
‘How do you judge that?’
Sister Ainder’s bright eyes bore into Fidelma.
‘There was certainly no religion in the hand that killed Sister Muirgel and she, in turn, was certainly no religieuse. That young woman would have been better off in a bawdy house.’
‘So you disliked Muirgel?’
‘As I have told you before, I really did not know her enough to dislike her. I only disapproved of her loose ways with men. But, as I say, she does not appear to be outrageous company among our band of so-called pilgrims.’
‘I presume you don’t include yourself in the “outrageous company”? Are there any other exceptions?’
‘Brother Tola, of course.’
‘But not me?’ Fidelma smiled.
Sister Ainder looked at her pityingly.
‘You are not a religieuse. Your concern is the law and you are simply a Sister of the Faith by accident.’
Fidelma fought to keep her face impassive. She had not thought it was so obvious. First Brother Tola, and now Sister Ainder felt able to take her to task on her religiosity. Fidelma decided to move the conversation onwards.
‘What of the others of your party then? You don’t consider they should be in religious Orders?’
‘Certainly not. Cian, for instance, is a womaniser, a man without morals or thought for others. There is no caring in him. With his vanity, it would not occur to him that he was hurting anyone. As a warrior he was probably in the right occupation. Fate caused him to seek security in a religious house. It was the wrong decision.’
Then Sister Ainder gestured across the deck of the ship to Dathal and Adamrae.
‘Those young men should be … well!’ Her face was twisted in disapproval.
‘You would condemn them?’ asked Fidelma.
‘Our religion condemns them. Remember the words of Paul to Romans: “Their men in turn, giving up natural relations with women, burnt with lust for one another; males behave indecently with males, and are paid in their own persons the fitting wage of such perversion … Thus, because they have not seen fit to acknowledge God, He has given them up to their own depraved reason”.’
Fidelma pulled a face.
‘We all know that Paul of Tarsus was an ascetic who believed in austerity and rigidity in morals.’
Sister Ainder shook her head in irritation.
‘It is very clear, Sister, that you take no thought to the words God spoke to Moses. Leviticus, eighteen, verse twenty-two: “You shall not lie with a man as with a woman; that is an abomination.” An abomination!’ she repeated in an angry voice.
Fidelma waited a moment or two and then said, ‘Isn’t the basis of our Faith salvation for everyone? Surely we are all sinners and we all need salvation? God did not judge the world, therefore we have no right to judge it. I give you back the words of John’s Gospel: “It was not to judge the world that God sent His Son into the world, but that through Him the world might be saved”.’
Sister Ainder actually chuckled, though sourly.
‘You are indeed a dálaigh, quoting sentences here and there to support your arguments. You are ever a woman of law and yet you can speak about not judging the world?’
‘I don’t judge. I seek the truth – and in truth is accountability.’
Sister Ainder sniffed and made to end the conversation. But she paused and turned back.
‘Brother Bairne is probably the only other person I would save from this ship of fools,’ she added. ‘He has some religious potential but the others, Sister Crella, for example – well, she seems no better than her friend Muirgel. I swear that, in this tiny ship, traversing the waters, we have all seven of the deadly sins that are cursed by the Living God. There is anger, covetousness, there is envy and gluttony, there is lust and pride and sloth.’
Fidelma looked at the strict religieuse with unconcealed amusement.
‘Have you identified all these sins among us?’
Sister Ainder’s features did not soften.
‘You will find that lust features prominently on this ship. Lust is the one sin that seems to be shared among many of our company.’
‘Oh?’ Fidelma smiled softly. ‘Am I supposed to be part of this sin of lust?’
Sister Ainder shook her head.
‘Oh no, Fidelma of Cashel. You are guilty of the worst sin of the seven … for pride is your sin. And pride is the mask of one’s own faults.’
Fidelma found her features hardening slightly. She would have been prepared to chuckle in earnest if any of the other six had been levelled at her by Sister Ainder, but she was not expecting pride. The barb hurt because it was something which had worried Fidelma for a long time. She did have a pride in her abilities, but not a vanity. There was a difference. Yet she was never sure what the difference was. To her, false humility was worse than pride in one’s achievements.
Sister Ainder was smiling complacently, watching the conflict on Fidelma’s features.
‘Proverbs, Sister Fidelma,’ she intoned. ‘Proverbs sixteen, verse eighteen: “Pride comes before disaster and arrogance before a fall”.’
Fidelma flushed with annoyance.
‘And which of the sins do you own up to, Ainder of Moville?’ she demanded testily.
Sister Ainder smiled thinly.
‘I keep all the Lord’s covenants,’ she replied with self-assurance.
Fidelma’s eyebrows arched a little.
‘A person with snot on their nose rejoices to see snot on the nose of another,’ she said brutally.
It was an old rural proverb which Fidelma had once heard a farmer use. It was coarse and strong, but Fidelma felt a sudden anger at the conceit of the woman and she uttered it without a thought.
Sister Ainder gasped in fury at the vulgarity.
Fidelma heard Murchad, who was still standing nearby, snort in mirth. It was a humour he could appreciate.
Yet the moment she had uttered the saying, Fidelma felt contrite and turned to express her regret that she had let anger get the better of her. However, Sister Ainder had already stalked away.
Fidelma paused for a moment and then met Murchad’s eye guiltily. The captain was still grinning; he suppressed a chuckle.
‘I’m sorry, lady, but you were in the right. That creature is the epitome of the very pride which she accused you of.’
Fidelma appreciated his support but continued to feel contrite.
‘Words uttered in anger, whether true or not, are not likely to have an effect, and—’
A cry cut her short. It was not the cry of the lookout, but a shout of alarm. Someone on the main deck, she thought it was Brother Bairne, had shouted some warning. He was pointing forward.
On the for’ard deck of the vessel were two figures. Siste
r Crella was standing there. A short distance in front of her stood Brother Guss. He was backing away from her, almost in a cringing attitude. The shouted warning from Brother Bairne was because Guss was backing dangerously near the ship’s rail.
The warning cry came too late.
Brother Guss teetered on the edge of the starboard side of the vessel and then fell backwards into the sea with a cry of fear.
Sister Crella stood, apparently reaching forward with both hands outstretched towards the spot where he had fallen overboard.
Murchad bellowed: ‘Man overboard!’
Many of those on deck, including Fidelma, ran to the starboard side. The ship was moving fast and they saw Brother Guss’s head bobbing past at an alarming rate and disappearing aft.
‘Stand by to wear the ship!’ came Murchad’s cry.
The ship’s crew materialised as if by magic and started to haul down the sail while Gurvan and another crew member threw their weight against the oar, turning the ship with what seemed incredible slowness in a wide arc.
Fidelma had run forward, along the main deck to the small for’ard deck.
Sister Crella was still standing there. She was bent forward now, her arms wrapped around her shoulders. She saw Fidelma scrambling towards her. Her features were white, her eyes wide. The shock on her face was plain.
‘He … he fell …’ she began helplessly.
‘What did you say to him?’ Fidelma demanded sharply. ‘What did you say?’
The girl stared at her as if unable to speak.
‘He was backing away from you,’ Fidelma pressed, speaking roughly to shock her into speech. ‘Were you threatening him?’
‘Threatening?’ Sister Crella returned her gaze in bewilderment. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Then what made him back away from you in such fear that he fell overboard?’
‘How do I know?’
‘What did you say to him?’
‘I told him that I knew about the seventh union, that’s all.’
‘What?’ Fidelma was in the dark.
‘You should know,’ retorted Sister Crella, pulling herself together. Her face took on a defiant look. ‘Now leave me alone. They’ll pick him up in a moment and you can ask him yourself.’
Sister Crella pushed her way by Fidelma and went running along the deck.
Fidelma hurried back to Murchad. The crew and the other passengers were still lining the sides of the ship, staring across the water attempting to catch sight of Guss.
‘Can we reach him?’ Fidelma asked breathlessly as she came up to Murchad.
The captain was sombre.
‘I’ m afraid we can’t even see him yet.’
‘What? But he passed us by so closely.’
Murchad’s attitude was morose.
‘Even shortening sail and beginning our turn at once, we would have gone on for a long distance from the spot where he went in. I’ve turned and come back on my wake but I can see no sign of him.’
He glanced up to the mast head where a lookout had been posted.
‘Any sign, Hoel?’ he bellowed up.
The voice came back with a negative.
‘We’ll search as much as we can. The only chance is if he is a strong swimmer.’
Fidelma glanced across to where Brother Bairne was standing surveying the waters anxiously.
‘Do you know if Guss swims well?’ she demanded.
Brother Bairne shook his head.
‘Even a good swimmer in these waters would surely not last long.’
‘I’ll try my best,’ Murchad was saying. ‘The best is all that I can try.’
Fidelma moved to Brother Bairne’s side.
‘When you cried the warning, what was it that you saw?’ she asked softly so that the others would not hear her question.
‘Saw? I shouted a warning because Guss was stumbling too near the edge.’
‘But did you see why he was backing himself into that dangerous position?’
‘I do not think he realised he was.’
Fidelma was impatient.
‘Did you see Sister Crella threatening him?’
Brother Bairne looked shocked.
‘Sister Crella threatening him? Are you serious?’
‘You did notice Sister Crella on the for’ard deck with him?’
‘Of course. They were speaking together and then Brother Guss began to move backwards, a little rapidly, or so I thought. I cried the warning but he stumbled and fell.’ Brother Bairne was examining her with some perplexity.
‘Thank you,’ Fidelma said. ‘I just wanted to make sure of what you had seen, that’s all.’
She walked slowly back to the stern deck, her head bent slightly forward in thought. As the minutes went by, a feeling of depression descended on everyone. It was a full hour later before Murchad called off the search.
‘I am afraid there is nothing that we can do for the poor boy,’ he told Cian, who had again asserted his leadership of the party. ‘I think he went under almost immediately. There is no hope now. I am so sorry.’
Fidelma went below and made her way to Sister Crella’s cabin.
Sister Crella was lying on her back staring up at the deck above. As Fidelma entered, she sat up with a hopeful expression, saw Fidelma’s grim features and her own hardened.
‘Murchad has called off the search for Brother Guss,’ announced Fidelma. ‘There is no hope of finding him alive.’
Sister Crella’s face was immobile.
‘Now perhaps you will tell me what you meant?’ went on Fidelma. Sister Crella’s voice was tight.
‘It should be easy for a dálaigh such as you to know what the seventh union means.’
‘The seventh union?’ Fidelma’s eyes cleared. ‘Do you mean the seventh form of union between man and woman? The law term that means secret sexual relations?’
Sister Crella closed her eyes without replying.
‘Yes, I know the law on the seventh union,’ Fidelma agreed, ‘but there is nothing about it that makes sense in these circumstances. Why did Brother Guss react in the way he did?’
‘I merely told him that I knew how he had been pestering Muirgel.’ Her eyes were bright, her gaze defiant. ‘You see, I think Guss killed her because she would not respond to his advances.’
Fidelma lowered herself on to the chair in the cabin.
‘Pestering? That is an interesting word.’
‘What else would you call it when one person tries to enforce their attentions on another?’ demanded Sister Crella.
‘So you believe that Brother Guss forced his attentions on Sister Muirgel, and that she did not respond to him?’
‘Of course. He was a moonstruck youth – just like Brother Bairne. Muirgel did not want to have anything to do with him. Of that I am sure.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Because Muirgel was my friend. I told you before – there were no secrets between us.’
‘Yet Muirgel did not tell you that she feared for her life and had gone into hiding on this ship, did she? If there was no relationship, why did Muirgel ask Guss to help her to hide … even from you?’
Crella stared angrily at Fidelma.
‘Guss has been telling lies about Muirgel.’
‘How do you explain, then, that it was Guss to whom Muirgel turned when she felt threatened?’ insisted Fidelma. ‘That it was Guss who helped to hide her during the last two days?’
‘That spotty-faced youth was saying that he was Muirgel’s lover. That is why I challenged him on the seventh union.’
She suddenly bent down and reached under the bunk, drawing out a long slim knife in one continuous motion, then she stood up and brandished it before her. Fidelma rose quickly to her feet, her mind reacting swiftly, thinking that she would have to defend herself from attack. However, Sister Crella simply stood staring down at the knife for a moment. Then she held it out, hilt towards Fidelma.
‘Here, take it.’
F
idelma was startled.
‘Go on!’ snapped Sister Crella. ‘Take it! You’ll see it has dried blood on it still.’
‘What is it?’
‘The knife that probably killed my poor friend, what else?’
Fidelma took the knife carefully from her grasp. It was true that there were signs of dried blood on the blade. Whether it was, indeed, the murder weapon she did not know. Nor could she prove it was not the weapon. It was a knife usually used to cut meat.
‘Why do you suspect that this is the weapon?’ She phrased her question carefully. ‘How did you come by it?’
‘Brother Guss planted it in my cabin.’ Crella gulped ‘I had gone along to have breakfast. Then you came in and told us of Muirgel’s death. I was returning when I bumped into Guss in the corridor. I did not like the way he was staring at me. He brushed by me and went up on deck. I continued into my cabin. It was then I found the knife.’
Fidelma’s eyes dropped to the bunk; she could not see under it from where she stood.
‘Where was it hidden?’ she asked.
‘Under the bunk.’
‘How did you spot it?’
‘By luck, I suppose.’
‘Luck does not make one’s vision see through solid objects! It could not be seen from any point in this room unless you were down on your knees peering under the bunk.’
Crella was not flustered.
‘I came back with an apple in my hand. When I opened the door, I dropped my apple. It was as I was bending down to pick it up that I saw the knife.’
‘You did not actually see Guss put it there, did you? Your account does not explain why you think he was responsible.’
‘Because we were all at breakfast – with one exception. Brother Guss was not there. You claimed that he was in his cabin, but I saw him coming from his cabin. Guss has been trying to implicate me in Muirgel’s killing. He told everyone that I was the murderer.’ She frowned. ‘He must have told you.’
‘Where did you hear that he had told everyone that you were the murderer?’ demanded Fidelma.
Crella hesitated. ‘It was from Brother Cian. Guss had told him; Cian told me.’
‘What did you do? You had found the knife and Cian told you that Guss was accusing you. What then?’
Act of Mercy Page 21
