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 Gospeclass="underline" “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 dalaigh, 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 adifference. 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. Sister 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.