Hemlock At Vespers (36 page)

“This agrees with what I have heard. But I needed some confirmation. Now let the guards bring in Ailill and the others and I will tell you what has happened.”

She stood silently before the High King while Ailill Flann Esa was brought in under guard, followed by the Abbot Colmán. Behind came a worried-looking Ornait, glancing with ill-concealed anxiety at her lover. After her came a puzzled-looking, dark-haired young man who was obviously Cernach Mac Diarmuid.

They stood in a semi-circle before the High King’s chair. Sechnasach glanced toward Sister Fidelma, inclining his head to her as indication that she should start.

“We will firstly agree on one thing,” began Sister Fidelma. “The sacred sword of the Uí Néill kings of Tara was stolen from the chapel of the Blessed Patrick. We will now also agree on the apparent motive. It was stolen to prevent the inauguration of Sechnasach as High King tomorrow… or to discredit him in the eyes of the people, to ferment civil disorder in the five kingdoms which might lead to Sechnasach being overthrown and someone else taking the throne.”

She smiled briefly at Sechnasach.

“Are we agreed on that?”

“That much is obvious.” It was Abbot Colmán who interrupted in annoyance. “In these dark times, it would only need such an omen as the loss of the sacred sword to create chaos and alarm within the kingdoms of Ireland. I have already said as much.”

“And what purpose would this chaos and alarm, with the overthrow of Sechnasach, be put to?” queried Sister Fidelma. Before anyone could reply she went on. “It seems easy to see. Sechnasach is sworn to uphold the traditions of the kingdoms and of our Church. Rome claims authority over all the Churches but this claim has been disputed by the Churches of Ireland, Britain and Armorica as well as the Churches of the East. Rome wishes to change our rituals, our liturgy and the computations whereby we celebrate the
Cáise
in remembrance of our Lord’s death in Jerusalem. And there are some among us, even abbots and bishops, who support Rome and seek the abandoning of our traditions and a union with the Roman Church. So even among us we do not all speak with one voice. Is that not so, Ailill Flann Esa?”

Ailill scowled.

“As I have told you, I have never denied my views.”

“Then let us agree entirely on the apparent inner motive for the theft of the sword. Destabilization of the High King and his replacement by someone who would reject the traditionalist ways and throw his support behind the reforms in line with Rome.”

There was a silence. She had their full attention.

“Very well,” went on Sister Fidelma. “This seems an obvious motive. But let us examine the facts of the theft. Two guards passed the door of the chapel in which the sword was kept shortly after midnight. The door was secured. But when they passed the chapel door twenty minutes later, they saw the door ajar with the bolt having been forced. Entering they saw Ailill standing at the altar staring at the empty chest where the sword had been kept. Then the Abbot entered. He came into the chapel from the sacristy to which he had gained entrance from the passage which leads there from the abbey. He accused Ailill of stealing the sword and hiding it. The sword was not found in the chapel. If Ailill had stolen the sword, how had he time to hide it so well and cleverly? Even the ten minutes allowed him by the guards was not time enough. This is the first problem that struck my thoughts.”

She paused and glanced towards Ornait, the sister of the High King.

“According to Ailill Flann Esa, he was walking by the chapel. He saw the door ajar and the bolt forced. He went inside out of curiosity and perceived the empty chest. That is his version of events.”

“We know this is what he claims,” snapped Sechnasach. “Have you something new to add?”

“Only to clarify,” replied Fidelma unperturbed by the High King’s agitation. “Ailill’s reason to be passing the chapel at that hour was because he was on his way to meet with Ornait.”

Ornait flushed. Sechnasach turned to stare at his sister, mouth slightly open.

“I regret that I cannot keep your secret, Ornait,” Sister Fidelma said with a grimace. “But the truth must be told for much is in the balance.”

Ornait raised her chin defiantly toward her brother.

“Well, Ornait? Why would Ailill meet with you in dead of night?” demanded the High King.

The girl pushed back her head defiantly.

“I love Ailill and he loves me. We wanted to tell you, but thought we would do so after your inauguration when you might look on us with more charity.”

Sister Fidelma held up her hand as Sechnasach opened his mouth to respond in anger.

“Time enough to sort that matter later. Let us continue. If Ailill speaks the truth, then we must consider this. Someone knew of Ailill’s appointment with Ornait. That person was waiting inside the chapel. Being a stranger to Tara, I had not realized that the chapel could be entered from within by means of a passageway. In this matter I was stupid. I should have known at once by the fact that the chapel doors bolted from
within.
The fact was staring me in the face. I should have realized that if the chapel was left bolted at night, then there must obviously be another means for the person who secured the bolt to make their exit.”

“But everyone at Tara knows about that passage,” pointed out Sechnasach.

“Indeed,” smiled Sister Fidelma. “And it would be obvious that at some stage I would come to share that knowledge.”

“The point is that the bolt on the door was forced,” Abbot Colmán pointed out in a testy tone.

“Indeed. But not from the outside,” replied Sister Fidelma. “Again my wits were not swift, otherwise I would have seen it immediately. When you force a bolted door, it is the metal on the door jamb, that which secures the bolt, that gets torn from its fixtures. But the bolt itself, on the chapel door, was the section which had been splintered away from its holdings.”

She stood looking at their puzzled expressions for a moment.

“What happened was simple enough. The culprit had entered the chapel from the passage within. The culprit had taken the key, pushed back the altar, opened the chest. The sword had been removed and taken to a place of safety. Then the culprit had returned to arrange the scene. Ensuring that the guards were well beyond the door, the perpetrator opened it, took up a stone and smashed at the bolt. Instead of smashing away the metal catch on the door jamb, the bolt on the door was smashed. It was so obvious a clue that I nearly overlooked it. All I saw, at first, was a smashed bolt.”

Ornait was smiling through her tears.

“I knew Ailill could not have done this deed. The real perpetrator did this deed for the purpose of making Ailill seem the guilty one. Your reputation as a solver of puzzles is well justified, Sister Fidelma.”

Sister Fidelma responded with a slightly wan smile.

“It needed no act of genius to deduce that the evidence could only point to the fact the Ailill Flann Esa could not have stolen the sword in the manner claimed.”

Ailill was frowning at Sister Fidelma.

“Then who is the guilty person?”

“Certain things seemed obvious. Who benefited from the deed?” Sister Fidelma continued, ignoring his question. “Abbot Colmán is a fierce adherent of Rome. He might benefit in this cause if Sechnasach was removed. And Abbot Colmán was in the right place at the right time. He had the opportunity to do this deed.”

“This is outrageous!” snarled the Abbot. “I am accused unjustly. I am your superior, Fidelma of Kildare. I am the Abbot of Tara and…”

Sister Fidelma grimaced. “I need not be reminded of your position in the Church, Abbot Colmán,” she replied softly. “I also remind you that I speak here as an advocate of the Brehon Court and was invited here to act in this position by yourself.”

Colmán, flushed and angry, hesitated and then said slowly:

“I make no secret of my adherence to the Rome order but to suggest that I would be party to such a plot—”

Sister Fidelma held up a hand and motioned him to silence.

“This is true enough. After all, Ailill would be Colmán’s natural ally. If Colmán stole the sword, why would he attempt to put the blame onto Ailill and perhaps discredit those who advocated the cause of Rome? Surely, he would do his best to support Ailill so that when civil strife arose over the non-production of the sacred sword, Ailill, as Tanist, the heir presumptive, would be in a position to immediately claim the throne of Sechnasach?”

“What are you saying?” asked Sechnasach, trying to keep track of Sister Fidelma’s reasoning.

Sister Fidelma turned to him, her blue eyes level, her tone unhurried.

“There is another factor in this tale of political intrigue. Cernach Mac Diarmuid. His name was mentioned to me several times as a fierce adherent of Rome.”

The young man who had so far stood aloof and frowning, now started, his cheeks reddening. A hand dropped to his side as if seeking a weapon. But no one, save the High King’s bodyguard, was allowed to carry a weapon in Tara’s halls.

“What do you mean by this?”

“Cernach desired the throne of Tara. As son of one of the joint High Kings, he felt that it was his due. But moreover, he would benefit most if both Sechnasach and Ailill were discredited.”

“Why…” Cernach started forward, anger on his face. One of the warriors gripped the young man’s arm so tightly that he winced. He turned and tried to shake off the grip but made no further aggressive move.

Sister Fidelma spoke to one of the guards.

“Is the warrior, Erc, outside?”

The guard moved to the door and called.

The burly warrior entered holding something wrapped in cloth. He glanced at Sister Fidelma and nodded briefly.

Sister Fidelma turned back to the High King.

“Sechnasach, I ordered this man, Erc, to search the chamber of Cernach.”

Cernach’s face was suddenly bloodless. His eyes were bright, staring at the object in Erc’s hand.

“What did you find there, Erc?” asked Sister Fidelma quietly.

The warrior moved forward to the High King’s seat, unwrapping the cloth as he did so. He held out the uncovered object. In his hands there was revealed a sword of rich gold and silver mountings, encrusted with a colorful display of jewels.

“The Caladchalog!” gasped the High King. “The sword of state!”

“It’s a lie! A lie!” cried Cernach, his lips trembling. “It was planted there. She must have planted it there!”

He threw out an accusing finger toward Sister Fidelma. Sister Fidelma simply ignored him.

“Where did you find this, Erc?”

The burly warrior licked his lips. It was clear he felt awkward in the presence of the High King.

“It was lying wrapped in cloth under the bed of Cernach, the son of Diarmuid,” he replied, brusquely.

Everyone’s eyes had fallen on the trembling young man.

“Was it easy to find, Erc?” asked Sister Fidelma.

The burly warrior managed a smile. “Almost too easy.”

“Almost too easy,” repeated Sister Fidelma with a soft emphasis.

“Why did you do this deed, Cernach Mac Diarmuid?” thundered Sechnasach. “How could you behave so treacherously?”

“But Cernach did not do it.”

Fidelma’s quiet voice caused everyone to turn back to stare at her in astonishment.

“Who then, if not Cernach?” demanded the High King in bewilderment.

“The art of deduction is a science as intricate as any of the mysteries of the ancients,” Sister Fidelma commented with a sigh. “In this matter I found myself dealing with a mind as complicated in thinking and as ruthless in its goal as any I have encountered. But then the stake was the High Kingship of Ireland.”

She paused and gazed around at the people in the chamber, letting her eyes finally rest on Sechnasach.

“There has been one thing which has been troubling me from the start. Why I was called to Tara to investigate this matter? My poor reputation in law is scarcely known out of the boundaries of Holy Brigid’s house at Kildare. In Tara, at the seat of the High Kings, there are many better qualified in law, many more able
dálaigh
of the Brehon Courts, many more renowned Brehons. The Abbot Colmán admitted that someone had told him about me for he did not know me. I have had a growing feeling that I was being somehow used. But why? For what purpose? By whom? It seemed so obvious that Ailill was demonstrably innocent of the crime. Why was it obvious?”

Ailill started, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her. Sister Fidelma continued oblivious of the tension in the chamber.

“Abbot Colmán summoned me hither. He had much to gain from this affair, as we have discussed. He also had the opportunity to carry out the crime.”

“That’s not true!” cried the Abbot.

Sister Fidelma turned and smiled at the ruddy-faced cleric.

“You are right, Colmán. And I have already conceded that fact. You did not do it.”

“But the sword was found in Cernach’s chamber,” Sechnasach pointed out. “He must surely be guilty.”

“Several times I was pointed toward Cernach as a vehement advocate of Roman reforms. A youthful hothead, was one description. Several times I was encouraged to think that the motive lay in replacing Sechnasach, a traditionalist, with someone who would encourage those reforms. And, obligingly, the sword was placed in Cernach’s chamber by the real culprit, for us to find. To Cernach my footsteps were carefully pointed… But why Cernach? He was not even of the age of choice, so what could he gain?”

There was a silence as they waited tensely for her to continue.

“Abbot Colmán told me that Cernach was a supporter of Rome. So did Ailill and so did Ornait. But Ornait was the only one who told me that Cernach desired the throne, even though unable to do so by his age. Ornait also told me that he would be of age within a month.”

Sister Fidelma suddenly wheeled round on the girl.

“Ornait was also the only person who knew of my reputation as a solver of mysteries. Ornait told the Abbot and encouraged him to send for me. Is this not so?”

She glanced back to Abbot Colmán who nodded in confusion.

Ornait had gone white, staring at Sister Fidelma.