The boy was looking at her in amazement.
‘You are saying that Sister Muirgel arranged for us to think that she had fallen overboard?’ Sister Ainder was still having problems coming to terms with what she had been told. ‘Why?’
‘She wanted to mislead her killer.’
Brother Tola made a sardonic barking laugh, expressing his disbelief.
‘Where, in God’s name, could she have hidden on this ship? There is nowhere.’
‘You’ll forgive me if I disagree with you.’ Fidelma felt tempted to tell him that Muirgel had spent the first night within a yard or so of him while he slept. ‘The more important matter is that Sister Muirgel’s murderer is a member of your company. Where were each of you during this last hour?’
They looked at each other suspiciously.
Brother Tola acted as their spokesman.
‘We sat down to breakfast all at the same time. That was about an hour ago.’
It turned out that everyone claimed to be in their cabins before that, with the exception of Sister Ainder, who accounted for her absence by stating she was in the defectora, and Cian, who said he was exercising on deck.
‘Were you in your cabin, Brother Bairne?’ enquired Fidelma.
‘I was.’
‘It is next to Muirgel’s cabin. Did you hear anything?’
‘Are you accusing me?’ stormed the young man, his face reddening. ‘You might have to prove such an accusation.’
‘If I made such an accusation I would do so when I am sure of proving it,’ replied Fidelma confidently. ‘I shall want to speak with each of you individually again.’
‘By what right?’ snapped Sister Ainder indignantly. ‘This matter is ridiculous. People being washed overboard when they are not. Accidents that turn to murders. Corpses that are not corpses!’
‘You already know my right and authority for this investigation,’ Fidelma interrupted her tirade.
Brother Tola glanced at Murchad.
‘I presume that Fidelma still acts with your approval, Captain?’
‘I have appointed Fidelma of Cashel in full charge of the matter,’ Murchad said heavily. ‘That is final.’
Chapter Fifteen
They had sighted the western coast of Armorica — that land which was now being called ‘Little Britain’.
Murchad announced, ‘Within a few hours we shall be sighting the island of Ushant, which is at its western extremity.’
Fidelma had never been to Armorica but knew that within the last two centuries, tens of thousands of Britons had been driven out of their lands by the expansion of the Angles and Saxons, and most had found a new home among the Armoricans. Many others had found refuge in the north-west of Iberia which had come to be named Galicia, the land to which they were sailing; others still had settled in the Five Kingdoms of Eireann, although not in such large numbers as elsewhere. But it was in Armorica, among people who shared a similar language and culture, that the refugees from Britain had begun to change the political map of the country so that the land was renamed ‘Little Britain’.
‘We’ll take on water at Ushant and some fresh food,’ continued Murchad. ‘We are under the halfway mark on our journey but, after this, there will be no other opportunity for you to stretch your legs on firm ground and to have a hot meal and a bath.’
Fidelma had acknowledged the information absently. She was watching her fellow pilgrims taking their ease on the main deck. She felt confused. One of them was a murderer and she had no idea which one she should even start suspecting! She had not revealed Brother Guss’s secret, that Sister Canair was also dead. She hoped, by withholding the information, that someone would eventually reveal knowledge which might indicate that they also knew — and that knowledge would identify them as the murderer. The accusation against Sister Crella certainly could not be substantiated as yet.
Brother Tola had taken up his usual position on deck, seated with his back against the water butt near the main mast reading his Missal. Brothers Dathal and Adamrae were arm in arm, strolling along the deck incongruously, or so it seemed to Fidelma, laughing together at a shared joke. The tall figure of Sister Ainder was seated on the starboard side lecturing Brother Bairne. Sister Crella was pacing thedeck, arms folded around her, still agitated and muttering to herself. Fidelma looked round for Brother Guss but he was nowhere to be seen. Nor was Sister Gorman.
‘Well, Fidelma?’ Cian appeared at her side, interrupting her thoughts. His voice was mocking. ‘From the reputation you have gathered to yourself these last few years, I would have thought that the mystery of Sister Muirgel would have been solved by now.’
She found it hard to believe that she had once been so immature as to be in love with this man. Resisting the impulse to utter a sharp rebuke, she recalled that she still needed information from him — and here was an opportunity to obtain it. Instead of reacting, she asked coolly, ‘How long did your affair with Sister Muirgel last?’
Cian blinked rapidly. His supercilious smile broadened.
‘Are you checking up on my affairs now? Why do you want to know about Muirgel?’
‘I am simply pursuing my enquiries into her death.’
Cian studied her phlegmatic expression, then shrugged slightly.
‘If you must know, not very long. Are you sure that you have no personal interest in asking?’
Fidelma chuckled.
‘You flatter yourself, Cian — but then, you always did. Sister Muirgel was murdered by someone she knew. I told you at breakfast.’
‘Are you trying to implicate me?’ demanded Cian. ‘Has your hurt pride, after all these years, turned your mind so that you accuse me? That is utterly ridiculous!’
‘Why should it be ridiculous? Don’t lovers kill each other?’ she asked innocently.
‘My affair with Muirgel was over long before we set out on this journey.’
‘Long is an abstract term.’
‘Well, a week or so prior to the journey.’
‘Did you walk out on her without a word, or this time did you have sufficient courage to tell her face to face?’ she added brutally.
Cian coloured hotly.
‘As a matter of fact, it was she who walked out on me — and, yes, she did tell me. Incredible as it may seem, she told me that she was in love with someone else — that young idiot, Brother Guss.’
Here was confirmation that some of Guss’s story was truthful, in spite of Crella’s denial that her friend was having an affair with him.
‘Knowing you, it was not something you would meekly accept, Cian. You have too much vanity. You would have protested.’
Cian’s hearty chuckle took Fidelma by surprise.
‘If you must know, I was very relieved by her confession, because I was about to end the relationship myself.’
She did not believe him. ‘I find it hard to credit that you would let a young boy like Guss take over from you without your pride being wounded.’
‘If you want the gory details, Canair and I had been lovers for a short while. I was trying to ditch Muirgel. Thankfully, she made it easy for me.’ It was plain by his boastful attitude that Cian was not lying.
‘When did you become Canair’s lover?’
‘Oh, so you want details of that as well! Really, Fidelma, when did you become a voyeur?’
She had to restrain herself from slapping his sneering face.
‘Let me remind you,’ she said icily, ‘that I am a dalaigh investigating a murder.’
‘A dalaigh miles from our homeland, on board a pilgrim ship,’ Cian said mockingly. ‘You have no rights to pry into my life, dalaigh.’