‘I did. It was Gobnuid the smith. Back rather early from his trip. Did you not recognise the other, Eadulf?’
‘How could I recognise anyone?’
‘Think, Eadulf! The tall figure with white robes!’
Eadulf knew what she was getting at. ‘It could have been one of the three strangers at the monastery, I suppose. But which one? I have no idea. They were too far away.’
Fidelma was in agreement. ‘Yet it was one of them. But why would Gobnuid and one of the Aksumites be out together on this desolate hill at dusk?’
Eadulf gave a negative shake of his head. ‘To be honest, I can understand nothing of this. Never have I been so totally baffled by a mystery…by a series of mysteries, in fact.’
Fidelma was defiant. ‘The more the mystery deepens, the greater the challenge, Eadulf. I am determined not to let this overcome me. The Brehon Morann, my mentor, once said that no object nor puzzle is mysterious. The mystery is the eyes and what they perceive. So when the eyes see a mystery do not use the eyes to understand it.’
Eadulf smiled somewhat sceptically. ‘The heart always sees before the head can see?’
‘Exactly so. We will solve this mystery yet.’
It was growing dusk when they finally reached the gates of Rath Raithlen. A stable boy came running forward as they rode in and took charge of their horses as soon as they had dismounted. They noticed that there was some movement in the fortress. Brand torches were being lit to dispel the darkness and suddenly Becc appeared at the doorway of his great hall and came forward to greet them.
‘I am glad to see you back safely, Fidelma. Accobrán was worried that you had gone off by yourself.’
‘I had Eadulf with me,’ she replied shortly, glancing around. ‘What is the excitement about? Where is your tanist?’
‘Gone,’ replied Becc with satisfaction. ‘He’s gone in chase of Lesren’s killer.’
Chapter Twelve
Fidelma stood for a moment, staring at the chieftain of the Cinél na Áeda as if she had not heard him.
‘Lesren’s killer? Does that mean that the identity of the killer has been discovered?’
‘A farmer came into the rath not so long ago and said that he had encountered Gabrán on the road. The young man was heading for the coast and told the man that he was going to find a ship and sign on as one of the crew.’
Fidelma glanced quickly at Eadulf, her face a mixture of surprise and irritation. Then she turned back to Becc.
‘Did this farmer say any more?’
Becc nodded. ‘The young man as good as admitted that he was fleeing from justice. Anyway, Accobrán has taken some warriors and will take the road to the coast. They should be able to overtake him soon enough and bring him back for trial. At least we have solved one murder. Maybe Gabrán will be the means of solving the others. Perhaps Lesren was right after all?’
‘The boy may be stupid,’ replied Fidelma in an exasperated tone, ‘but to run away does not mean to say he is responsible for any deaths.’
Becc regarded in her astonishment. ‘But the very act of running away proclaims his guilt.’
‘A stupid act, I warrant you, but not a proclamation of guilt,’ replied Fidelma. ‘It can also imply fear. Let me know immediately Accobrán returns.’
Then, motioning Eadulf to follow, she led the way to their chambers. Once inside the room, she closed the door with a sharp thud behind her.
‘The stupid, stupid boy!’ she exploded.
Eadulf stood observing the anger on her features as she began to pace the room. ‘You really think that he is innocent?’
Fidelma did not even bother to answer the question.
‘I fear for the boy’s life now,’ she said quietly. ‘Remember there is enmity between him and Accobrán.’
‘But that is all on the part of Gabrán,’ replied Eadulf. ‘A silly suspicion that Accobrán was trying to seduce his betrothed.’
Fidelma did not say anything for a moment. Then she said softly: ‘Let us hope that if Accobrán and the boy meet up on the road, they may come back to us living and not as corpses.’
There was no further news of the tanist and his pursuit by the time they retired for the night.
The next day, as the early grey October light filtered through the windows, Fidelma was already at her morning ablutions. In the distance she could hear the tolling of a bell, presumably from the abbey of the Blessed Finnbarr. She found Eadulf waiting for her in the kitchen of Becc’s great hall where they normally broke their fast. He had been up and washed before her.
Becc came in while they were finishing their meal and looked uneasy.
‘Accobrán came back in the middle of the night,’ he announced without preamble. ‘He overtook Gabrán.’
Fidelma was immediately concerned.
‘I asked you to inform me immediately Accobrán returned,’ she replied sharply. ‘Is the boy alive?’
Becc blinked in surprise at the abruptness of her tone.
‘Accobrán brought him back for trial, cousin. Not for execution,’ he said defensively.
‘So the boy is in good health?’ she insisted.
‘He may be bruised a little but he should not have resisted his capture.’
Fidelma’s features were immobile. ‘No, he should not — especially when he is innocent of the murder of Lesren.’
Becc showed his irritability. ‘You will have to present the evidence to prove it then.’
‘That I shall do,’ Fidelma replied. She made to rise, and paused. The distant bell from the abbey was still tolling. ‘What is that bell sounding for?’
The chieftain looked surprised, as if hearing the bell for the first time. ‘It will be for Lesren’s funeral.’
Fidelma sprang to her feet with an exclamation. ‘I had forgotten the funeral in all that has transpired. Eadulf, come. We must attend it.’
Eadulf grabbed a piece of cold meat and some bread and went quickly after her as she headed for the door. On the threshold she halted with such abruptness that Eadulf bumped into her. She was looking back at Becc.
‘Are you not coming?’ she demanded.
The chieftain had seated himself at the vacated table.
‘I was never a friend of Lesren or of his family. He was a good tanner, that is all. Accobrán has gone there to ensure all is as it should be. But it would be insincere should I attend.’
Fidelma had not waited for the chieftain to finish. She was through the door and instructing their horses be saddled and brought without delay.
‘I don’t understand why you want to attend this funeral,’ Eadulf protested, trying to finish his bread and meat.
‘At funerals one may gather information,’ she replied mysteriously.
It did not take them long to reach the abbey. A few other stragglers were hurrying in answer to the bell’s summons and it was still tolling as the gatekeeper admitted them and pointed to the chapel.
Lesren’s body had been taken to the abbey chapel and it was here that the funeral obsequies were to take place. As Fidelma and Eadulf entered the chapel, they found it surprisingly crowded with many from Rath Raithlen. They immediately saw Accobrán, and by his side Adag the steward. Fidelma nudged Eadulf and indicated that Gobnuid the smith was also there. There were many others who had probably traded with the tanner or were relatives of Lesren and Bébháil. Bébháil herself sat at the front of the chapel with a woman who looked remarkably like her. Fidelma remembered that the widow of Lesren had a sister who was to have been summoned to look after matters. There was Tómma close by. Even a frightened-looking Creoda was standing just behind Tómma. Among the religious, however, the three strangers were not present. There was no reason why they should be and, indeed, Abbot Brogán told Fidelma afterwards that he had thought it wise that they should not attend in case of trouble.
The congregation was subdued by the ominous tones of a new bell. The solemn baritone of the clog-estechtae, or death bell, which was always rung to mark the death of a Christian, replaced the tenor of the summoning bell. The religious who were gathered began to sing their requiem, the écnairc, an intercession for the soul’s repose. Members of Bébháil’s household had probably watched over Lesren’s body for the entire night. Eadulf knew all about the custom. In some cases, he knew, the relatives and their guests indulged in the cluiche cainrech or funeral games that preceded the fled cro-lige, the feast of the deathbed.