“Why wasn’t Moenach reported to the Father? If you knew and Brother Nath knew, why didn’t Father Allan accept your evidence?”
Ninnedo laughed again. There was no humor in his voice.
“You do not realize just how entrenched is the good Father’s belief in Moenach. Nath told him, for Nath knew what had happened. Father Allan simply accused Nath of jealousy and threatened his expulsion as well.”
“But Moenach’s position could not be maintained simply by Father Allan’s prejudice alone? There must be others who agreed with Father Allan’s views?”
Ninnedo sniffed bitterly.
“Oh yes. Moenach fooled some of the Brothers. That fool Aedo, for example.”
“Aedo who discovered the body with the old woman Muirenn kneeling by it?”
“The same. He was so shocked and prostrate by grief that, when he arrived back here with the news of what he had seen, he took to his bed for several days.”
“So? Aedo did not accompany Father Allan and the Brothers in search for Muirenn?”
“He did not.”
“And apart from some of these Brothers, Moenach fooled other people as well?”
“He had the same influence with many local chieftains and even abbots.”
“But you and Nath recognized him as evil?”
“We were fostered with him. We knew his ways, Sister. In fact, he seemed to delight in our knowing how he was fooling people like the Father Superior. He would challenge us to report him, knowing full well that we would not be believed.”
“Did you not support Nath against Father Allan?”
“Little use that was,” sniffed Ninnedo.
There came the sound of a distant bell.
“I must go,” Ninnedo said and moved off rapidly.
Fidelma stood for a moment watching him stride away and then she turned in search of Father Allan.
“You did not tell me that Moenach was not well liked by everyone.”
The Father Superior stared angrily.
“Who did not like him?” he demanded. “Ninnedo, I suppose?”
“I also speak of Brother Nath.”
“Nath!” Father Allán’s mouth drooped. “So Ninnedo told you of that matter?”
Fidelma did not reply.
“Sister Fidelma, you know as well as I, that in spite of our vows and dedication to the service of the Living God, we do not suddenly become more than human, nor do we become incorrupt.”
“What are you saying?”
“That I am aware of the accusations of Nath and Ninnedo. I have known them for many years, ever since they came here to be fostered with Moenach. They all grew up together but as men sometimes take a dislike for each other, so too with boys. I knew of their jealousies and dislike of Moenach.”
“Yes? And to what reason did you attribute it?”
“Who knows? When a boy is as talented and pure as Moenach, he will have many enemies.”
“And are you so sure that their accusations were unfounded?”
“I knew Moenach since he was seven years old. He was beyond reproach.”
“Although you do admit that none of us are incorruptible?” Fi-delma could not help the sarcastic thrust.
Father Allan did not rise to the bait.
“Moenach was someone special. It was a great pain for me to see Nath’s jealousy.”
“I want to talk to Brother Nath.”
Father Allan gestured awkwardly.
“But he … he has absconded. Did Ninnedo not mention this to you?”
Fidelma gazed blankly at him for a moment.
“Nath has disappeared?”
“Yes. No one has seen him for the last week.”
Fidelma caught her breath to suppress a surge of anger.
“Are you telling me that Brother Nath disappeared a week ago? And it was a week ago that Brother Moenach was murdered. Why was I not informed of this before?”
Father Allan’s face whitened.
“But Muirenn slew Moenach. Why would you be interested in a headstrong young man who has slunk away from the community?”
“Why was I not informed about this?” repeated Fidelma. “Has any investigation been made into what has happened to Nath?”
Father Allan shrugged helplessly.
“He broke his vows and absconded. That is all.”
“Tell Brother Ninnedo to join me at once.”
Father Allan blinked, hesitated and moved off.
Ninnedo arrived with surly face. Father Allan stood behind him, watching anxiously.
“I want the full truth, Ninnedo,” Fidelma told him. “And I want it now.”
“I have spoken the truth.”
“Yet you did not tell me that your friend Nath has been missing since the day of the killing of Moenach.”
Ninnedo blanched but contrived a stubborn expression.
“Are you accusing him of killing Moenach and running off?” he muttered. “Everyone says Muirenn slew Moenach.”
“It is my role to find out the truth. Do you know where Nath is?”
Ninnedo stared at her. It was the young Brother who dropped his eyes first. He shook his head.
“Speak to Ainder, the daughter of Illand,” he muttered.
“Who is Ainder?” Fidelma asked.
Father Allan moved uneasily from one foot to another.
“Ainder is a young girl of the village who washes the clothes of the community. She lives with her father, Illand, who oversees our gardens.”
Fidelma turned her gaze back to Brother Ninnedo.
“Why should I speak with this Ainder?”
“It is not my place to anticipate what she will say to you,” the young man replied spiritedly, attempting to copy Fidelma’s style.
Fidelma stared at Ninnedo’s stubborn features and sighed.
“Where will I find this Ainder?”
“The bothán of Illand is at the bottom of the hill,” interrupted the Father Superior. “Seek her there, Sister Fidelma.”
She decided to ask Brother Aedo to accompany her in order to show her the spot where Moenach was killed and to confirm his story of the finding of the body. He was a simple ingenuous youth and had nothing else to add. He confirmed that he had been so distressed on his return to the community that he could do no more than report the matter to the Father Superior before becoming incapacitated by a surfeit of emotion. Father Allan and three other Brothers had left immediately to find Moenach and search for the woman Muirenn. Fidelma, looking round the small clearing, did not expect to find anything to assist her at the site. Nevertheless, it helped to fix the location of the crime in her mind. Without Brother Aedo’s help, it would have been impossible to pinpoint the exact spot for there were many such little clearings amidst the great forest. She bade Aedo return to the hilltop community and continued on down the hill.
There was a small cabin at the bottom of the hill as Father Allan had said. A line of freshly laundered clerical robes were hanging to dry on a rope line strung between two trees. An elderly but sturdily built man was picking apples from one of the trees. He turned and watched suspiciously as Fidelma approached.
“Is this the home of Ainder, daughter of Illand?”
“I am Illand,” replied the man. “My daughter is inside.”
“I am Fidelma of Kildare. I wish to speak with your daughter.”
The man hesitated before gesturing toward the cabin.
“You are welcome, Fidelma. But my daughter is not well…”
“But well enough to see the Sister,” interrupted a soft soprano voice.
A young girl, fair-haired and slim, and no more than fourteen years of age, stood framed in the doorway of the cabin.
“Please, Father,” the girl said with hurried insistence before he could argue. “I am at the age of choice.”
Fidelma glanced carefully at her, wondering why the girl had to point out her right to make her own decision.
Illand shrugged expressively.
“I have t
hings to attend to,” he muttered in a surly tone and, picking up his basket of apples, moved off.
The girl turned to Fidelma with a pale face but determined chin.
“You must be the dálaigh whom Father Allan was waiting for,” she said. “Why do you seek me out?”
“I am told you are laundress for the community,” returned Fi-delma. “Do you live here with your mother and father?”
A scowl flitted across the girl’s face.
“My mother is many years in the place of truth,” she replied, using the Irish euphemism meaning that her mother was dead.
“I am sorry.”
“No need for sorrow,” said the girl.
Without another word, Ainder turned and went into the bothán, beckoning Fidelma to follow. She sat in the chair which Ainder indicated. The young girl sat opposite her and examined her carefully.
“I am glad that you are a woman and a young one.”
Fidelma raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“Why so?”
“I think you are here to ask me about Nath.”
“What do you know of Brother Nath?”
“He wishes to marry me.”
Fidelma blinked and sighed.
“I see.” Members of religious communities could and did get married under the laws of the Fénechus. “So Nath is in love with you?”
“He is.”
There was a slight emphasis in her voice which contained a hidden “but.”
“But your father disapproves?” hazarded Fidelma.
“Oh no!” The words were ejaculated hurriedly. “He does not know.”
“You knew that Nath has disappeared?”
Ainder nodded, eyes on the ground.
“You knew that Brother Moenach was murdered and that Brother Nath disappeared on that same day? Things look bad for him.”
Ainder seemed bewildered.
“But didn’t the old woman, Muirenn, kill Moenach?” she demanded.
“That is what I am here to find out. What do you know of Nath’s disappearance?”
The girl hesitated and then sighed deeply.
“Nath was frightened when Moenach was killed. You see, no one believes how evil Moenach really was. He had caused Brother Follamon to be expelled by his deception.”
“How did you know of this?”
“I grew up here, under the shadow of Father Allan’s community. My father tends their garden and, after my mother died, I am laundress for the community. I knew most of the brothers. Follamon, Nath, Ninnedo and Moenach were all fostered together and when they reached the age of choice last year they all decided to stay on in the community of Father Allan. They all knew each other well enough. Follamon, Nath and Ninnedo became my friends.”
“But not Moenach?”
The girl shuddered.
“No!” Her voice was emphatic. Too emphatic.
“Why did you dislike Moenach?”
The girl raised her eyes to Fidelma. Two bright red spots colored her cheeks. Then she lowered her gaze and spoke with studied care.
“I will not keep the truth from you, Sister. The day before Moen-ach was killed, he attacked me.”
Fidelma started.
“He attacked you?”
“He raped me.”
Fidelma noticed that she used the word forcor which indicated a forcible rape, a physical attack, distinguished in law from sleth, which covered all other forms of sexual intercourse with a woman without her consent.
“Explain to me the circumstances, Ainder. And let me warn you that this is a serious allegation.”
Ainder’s face hardened.
“It is serious for me, for who now will pay my coibche?”
A husband gave a coibche or “bride-price” which was shared between a bride and her guardian in law, usually her father. The bridoprice was related to the virginity of the bride and if the bride was not a virgin then humiliation and financial loss resulted.
“Very well. Tell me your story,” invited Fidelma.
“I was taking a basket of laundry up to the community. Moen-ach came upon me. He hated me because he knew Nath loved me. He insulted me and then knocked me to the ground and raped me. Afterward… he said if I spoke of the matter no one would believe me for it was well known in the community that he was trusted of abbots and kings.”
“Was it an actual physical assault?” Fidelma pressed. “You realize the differences between forcor and sleth?”
“Moenach was strong. I could not prevail against him. It was a physical attack.”
“And you told Nath about this?”
The girl paused a moment, examining Fidelma’s face from under lowered eyelids, and then nodded quickly.
“I see. And Nath was angry, of course?”
“I have never seen him so angry.”
“When was this? How long before Moenach was killed?”
“He did not kill Moenach.”
Fidelma smiled thinly.
“I did not make such an accusation. But what makes you so emphatic?”
“He would not. It is not in Nath’s nature.”
“It is in the nature of all men given the right motive. Answer my question, then: how long before Moenach was killed did you tell Nath of this attack?”
“It was on the same afternoon that Moenach died. Scarcely an hour before.”
“When did you learn of Moenach’s death?” Fidelma asked.
“Why…” the girl frowned, “it was when Father Allan and some others of the community came searching for the old woman Mui-renn. But Father Allan said that Muirenn had been seen with the murder weapon in her hand.”
“Did you see Nath afterward?”
Ainder appeared reluctant to speak and so Fidelma pressed the question again.
“That very evening,” the girl replied unwillingly. “He came to me and was frightened. He had heard the news but was afraid for himself.”
“He must have known Muirenn was suspected. What made him run away?”
“Because he thought that he would be suspected. His dislike of Moenach was well known. And Nath believed that should the news of Moenach’s attack on me come out, whether it was believed or not, he would be singled out as a suspect in the murder.”
Fidelma looked at the girl sadly.
“Certainly, Nath is now more suspected than the old woman, Muirenn. Which makes me ask, why have you told me this story so readily, Ainder, when it makes things look so bad for Nath?”
The girl looked aggrieved at the question.
“I tell it because it is the truth and are we not taught that the truth stands against all things? Nath cannot continue to hide forever. I cannot marry with an outlaw forever hiding the fastnesses and shadows of this land. I have urged Nath to surrender himself many times and rely on truth as his shield.”
Fidelma sat back and regarded the girl thoughtfully.
“You realize just how bad the situation is for Nath if he does not return to be heard before me?”
“I do. I believe that he should do so and that the truth will free him.”
“If that is so, will you tell me where Nath is hiding?”
The girl dropped her eyes to the ground. She did not speak for a long while. Then she sighed, as if making up her mind.
“Can I bring Nath to you?”
“It is all the same to me,” Fidelma replied indifferently. “Just so long as he presents himself before me.”
“Then I will bring him to Muirenn’s bothán at dusk.”
Fidelma did not really expect Brother Nath to turn up that evening. Somehow she did not really trust the credulous attitude of Ainder. She had been waiting in Muirenn’s cabin for half an hour before she heard Ainder’s voice call softly.
Fidelma was seated in a chair beside the grey remnants of the dead turf fire.
Ainder’s shadowy figure stood for a while framed in the doorway.
Fidelma rose and lit a candle.
It was then she saw the pale young man in the robes of a re
li-gieux standing nervously behind the young woman.
“And so you are Nath?” she asked.
Ainder drew the young man into the cabin by her hand and quickly closed the door.
“I have told him not to fear you, Sister Fidelma, but only to speak the truth.”
Fidelma studied the young man. He was fresh-faced, tousle-haired and had a look of bemusement as if he were caught in a stream of events over which he had no control. Something maternal stirred in Fidelma for the youth had the vacant expression of a little boy lost and alone in a frightening forest. She shook herself to rid her mind of the emotion.
She gestured for him to sit down.
“Tell me your story, Nath,” she invited, also seating herself.
“Little to tell,” the boy said quietly. “I love Ainder and wish to marry her. Moenach was always an enemy to me, to me and to my other brethren. He was a bully always, as a child and as a youth. He delighted in actions that harmed us but like most bullies he knew how to ingratiate himself to his betters. Father Allan would not hear a word against him. Moenach engineered the expulsion of Follamon…”
“I know about this. I have talked with Brother Ninnedo.”
Nath gave her an intense look.
“Then you know what Moenach was really like?”
“I know what I have been told. So when Ainder came to you and told you what had happened, you were in a great rage?”
Nath lowered his head and sighed.
“I rage still. Sister, I do not regret Moenach’s death. We are taught to forgive our enemies, them that do us ill. I cannot find it in my heart to do so. I rejoice in his death. I approve his ultimate punishment. My heart is exuberant. My mind tells me, however, that this is not the law nor the path of the Living God.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No!” The word was ejaculated like a rasping breath.
“Then why did you run away? Muirenn had been taken prisoner and the rest of the community thought the guilt lay at her door. Why bring suspicion down on your head?”
Nath looked bewildered.
“There were many who did not believe in Muirenn’s guilt and believed that Father Allan was using her as an easy scapegoat to protect Moenach’s reputation.”
“If they knew Muirenn to be innocent, they must have known someone to be guilty. By running, you provided a suspect.”
Nath shook his head. “Knowing that it is impossible for someone to kill does not mean that one must have knowledge of who committed the deed.”
Hemlock at Vespers sf-9 Page 8
