‘I was returning home from cutting wood.’
‘And Creoda told you?’
The boy nodded.
‘Is Creoda a friend of yours?’
‘I know him.’
‘Did he tell you to run away?’
‘He advised it.’
‘So you ran away at Creoda’s behest. Did you not think that you were doing a foolish thing, if you were innocent?’
Gabrán was regarding her thoughtfully.
‘You do not think that I am guilty?’ he whispered. There was no disguising the sudden hope in his voice.
‘I think that you were panicked into flight to make you appear guilty.’
‘Then you think Creoda is guilty?’
Fidelma shook her head. ‘However, first we must demonstrate that you are not.’
There came a rap on the door and Accobrán came in. Fidelma glanced up with a frown of irritation.
‘I am in the middle of questioning Gabrán,’ she began.
‘It is Bébháil and Tómma come to see you, lady. They insist on seeing you immediately. Also,’ he glanced at Gabrán, bent close to Fidelma’s ear and whispered, ‘the boy’s parents have arrived.’
Fidelma sighed in resignation. ‘Very well. Tell them that I will join them in a moment.’
She waited until he departed and the door was closed again before she glanced back to Gabrán.
‘You do not like Accobrán, do you?’
The boy raised a hand to his bruised face. He returned her gaze levelly for a moment or two and then shrugged.
‘I have reason not to.’
‘Why?’
‘The answer is simple. Knowing Beccnat to be in love with me, he tried to separate us.’
‘You will have to explain that.’
‘A month or so before Beccnat was murdered, there was a féis at the chieftain’s hall. Accobrán insisted on dancing with Beccnat.’
‘Insisted?’ Fidelma picked up on the word. ‘He was forcing his attentions on her?’
Gabrán sniffed and nodded quickly.
‘How did Beccnat respond to that?’
The corner of the boy’s mouth drooped. He said nothing.
‘Did she raise objections? Accobrán is a handsome man,’ she added.
Gabrán looked up angrily. ‘She was flattered at being asked to dance with the tanist. That was all. I suspect that after the féis he tried to see her again. But, as I told you before, Beccnat and I were in love…we were going to marry in spite of the story Lesren was spreading around.’
‘But you suspected Accobrán tried to meet with Beccnat secretly?’ queried Fidelma. ‘Tried or succeeded?’ she added sharply.
‘Tried,’ the boy responded immediately. ‘I trusted Beccnat. I did not trust Accobrán.’
‘Very well.’ Fidelma rose to her feet. ‘I’d better see what Lesren’s widow wants. We will continue this shortly.’
Bébháil and Tómma were waiting for them in the chieftain’s hall with Accobrán. Becc was out hunting and not expected back before evening. Accobrán rose quickly and came to her. In a low voice he explained that Goll and his wife had been taken to an antechamber to await them so that they should not confront Bébháil.
The tanner’s widow and Tómma had risen awkwardly as they entered and Fidelma, having acknowledged Accobrán’s arrangements, walked across to them and motioned them to be seated again.
‘I have little time,’ she began, feigning irritation. ‘Tell me what brings you here. I presume that you have something to tell me about Lesren’s death, Bébháil? Have you persuaded Tómma that he should let you tell me the truth now?’
Tómma half rose from his seat, his eyes wide.
‘How could you-’ he began.
Fidelma motioned him to silence with a cutting gesture of her hand.
‘It is no trick. I saw that Bébháil wanted to speak to me at the funeral but you prevented her. I will not put words in your mouth. I now presume that you are persuaded to tell me the truth of what happened between Lesren and yourself.’
Tómma sunk back again, his face grim. He lowered his head as if resigned to what was to follow. Fidelma turned to Bébháil with an expectant expression. The woman was dry-eyed and in firm control of her faculties.
‘What I did was wrong,’ she began. Then she fell silent again. Fidelma did not say anything but continued to wait patiently until she continued. ‘I could not stand the life any more. I did love him once. But love departed even before Beccnat was born.’
Fidelma regarded her with sympathy.
‘And what did you do that was wrong?’ she said encouragingly.
‘I killed him,’ she said simply.
Eadulf let out a noisy exhalation of breath and Accobrán gave a little moan of astonishment. Fidelma did not glance in their direction, keeping her eyes on Bébháil. She turned to Tómma.
‘It was stupid to lie to me.’
The tanner shrugged helplessly. ‘I had to. I could not tell you that Lesren was telling me that Bébháil had struck the blow that killed him.’
‘The name he spoke was Bébháil and not Biobhal. How did you think of such a name? Biobhal, I mean.’
‘It was the only thing that came into my head. You see, while Lesren was mumbling away about Bébháil, Creoda was standing at my side. I could not gamble on the fact that he might have heard what Lesren was saying. I turned to him and pretended that I had heard the name Biobhal just in case. I could pretend that he had misheard the name, as it was so similar. He readily accepted that Biobhal was the name he had heard.’
Fidelma’s lips were pressed firmly together to hide her annoyance. ‘I swear, Tómma, that your false information led me astray for a while. You chose a name that could have had some pertinence.’ She turned back to Bébháil. ‘What you have to confess is very serious, Bébháil. The most serious offence under our law is to deprive another person of his life. You are confessing to a killing. You had best tell me the story from the very beginning.’
The widow appeared calm and implacable. ‘It is a simple story, lady. It is one that is as old as the relationship between men and women. I was young. I was beguiled. Lesren was an attractive man. An artisan. A súdaire — a tanner. I knew he had been married before but he had told me all manner of bad stories about Fínmed. I married him.’ She paused and gave a quick, meaningless smile. ‘His stories were untrue, as I soon found out. My life has not been happy.’
‘There was a redress for your situation in law,’ pointed out Fidelma. ‘The law allows for separation and divorce.’
‘I stayed for many reasons. I suppose my daughter was the chief reason but perhaps I am only making excuses. I should have left after poor Beccnat was murdered. Yesterday, he began abusing me again. It was then that something seemed to snap within me. I grabbed a kitchen knife and-’ She broke off and gave a helpless sob.
‘Are you pleading self-defence?’ demanded Accobrán harshly. He seemed to be trying to take command of the situation, perhaps in an attempt to make up for his treatment of Gabrán.
‘Of course she is!’ snapped Tómma, moving closer to Bébháil and putting an arm protectively around her shoulders. ‘Can’t you see how ill this woman has been treated by that beast? If you want proof, lady,’ he added, turning to Fidelma, ‘ask her to go with you into the next room and show the blemishes that Lesren made on her body.’
‘Is this true, Bébháil?’ Fidelma asked gently.
The woman did not raise her eyes but merely nodded. Fidelma was quiet for a moment or two.
‘This crime of fingal, kin slaying, is the most horrendous in our laws,’ she reflected.
‘Heavy sanctions are made against the perpetrators,’ added the tanist sharply. ‘You will have to face a harsh punishment.’