‘I came to this land of the Cinél na Áeda and found evil. What is evil?’ She paused as if expecting an answer. ‘Philosophers for many ages have argued over its precise nature. Evil is doing or intending to do harm, causing discomfort or pain in either a physical or a mental sense and creating trouble and anguish. It is the antithesis of good. Yet Brehon Morann, my mentor, once said that if we tried to abolish evil from the world, then we could know very little of the nature of our being. For often those who perform evil deeds are persuaded that what they do is honourable and necessary. Indeed, unless we all share the same moral codes of behaviour, we cannot propound a definition of evil and we must accept it as a natural part of the world in which we live.’
The people stirred, shuffling their feet, most of them not understanding her words.
‘If we wanted a sermon, Sister, we would have gone to the church,’ cried Brocc, still aggressive in spite of his bonds and not cowed by the warriors standing guard next to him. One of them pushed him roughly to make him quiet.
Fidelma smiled sadly. ‘Even the church does not possess a monopoly on goodness. Evil is to be found there just as it is found among those who do not follow the Faith.’
Abbot Brogán looked as if he were about to respond but snapped his mouth shut, while Liag was actually smiling with cynicism.
‘I have come here and found malevolence,’ continued Fidelma with emphasis.
‘We know that!’ cried Seachlann. ‘Have we not lost our daughters? Stop your sermon and tell us who is responsible.’
‘I shall come to it,’ promised Fidelma in a patient tone. ‘I shall come to it in the proper time. Our culture and our laws are our indication of evil and we must use that as our definition. We seek those responsible for evil, for Seneca once wrote that the most important evil is the evil of cringing to evil and surrendering to it. We must always defy evil and face any suffering before we give in to it.’
Becc leant forward and nodded approvingly. ‘This is true, Fidelma, but show us where this evil lies.’
Fidelma’s expression remained grim. ‘Three crimes have taken place here. The crime of murder, the crime of deception and theft, and the crime of abusing the laws of hospitality. From these three evils, several other small infractions of our law code have flown.’
There was a sudden sense of expectancy among the people in the Great Hall. Fidelma gazed on their upturned faces. A variety of emotions showed in their features: excitement, like dogs waiting to be unleashed in the hunt; consternation and apprehension and, here and there, fear.
‘Let me begin with the crime of the abuse of the laws of hospitality. That is the least serious of the offences that have been committed against the Cinél na Áeda. But we deem it a grave misdemeanour nevertheless.’
She turned and looked down at Brother Dangila and his companions, then glanced towards Brother Solam. ‘Since I have to speak in our own language so that the majority of people may understand, I charge you, Brother Solam, with translating my words into Greek for the convenience of the three brothers of Aksum.’
The steward of the abbey inclined his head, left his place and walked to where the Aksumites were sitting and swiftly interpreted what Fidelma had said. The solemn-faced Brother Dangila bowed slightly in a gesture of acceptance towards her.
‘The three brothers from the far-off land of Aksum have abused the hospitality of the abbey-’
‘I was right!’ interrupted Brocc raucously. ‘They are the killers. I said so all along and I demand-’
Fidelma swung fiercely round on him. ‘You will demand nothing. If you do not remain silent I shall have you removed back to your cell.’
Brocc blinked before her fury and fell sullenly silent.
‘The three brothers from Aksum, being strangers, may themselves have been misled and might use that argument to defend their actions,’ Fidelma said.
Brother Dangila spoke directly to Fidelma, with Brother Solam translating for the rest of the people. ‘We have no understanding of this alleged abuse, Sister. Please explain.’
‘You came here, so you have told us, to study the works that are in the abbey of Finnbarr. Correct?’
‘Correct.’
‘Abbot Brogán gave you hospitality at the abbey on the grounds of that study and for no other purpose. But you had another reason for coming here, didn’t you?’
Brother Dangila’s eyes narrowed slightly and he made no reply.
‘Before you entered the brotherhood of the Faith, Dangila, you told me that you worked in the gold mines of your country, the mines of Adulis which produce gold that is exported all over the world. And was not your father a worker in those same mines?’
Brother Dangila nodded slowly. ‘I do not deny it. I did work in the mines in the shadow of Ras Dashen before I joined the brotherhood of the Faith.’
‘Your words to me were that you learnt more than just how to spot a rich vein of gold or copper,’ Fidelma continued. ‘In fact, you were a craftsman in your field. You knew all about mining techniques.’
The Aksumite shrugged indifferently but made no response.
‘We know how you were saved from a ship that foundered off the shores and take to the house of Molaga. You were there some time. Do you remember telling me how you decided to come here and stay in the community of the abbey of Finnbarr?’
‘My memory is not so short,’ replied Brother Dangila. ‘And yet I cannot see-’
‘Be patient. You told me that you came here to study the writings of Aibhistín about the moon and its effects…’
There was an uneasy murmur from those assembled.
‘That was not entirely true, was it?’ snapped Fidelma.
Brother Dangila said nothing. His two companions, Brother Nakfa and Brother Gambela, exchanged glances. Their expressions were not lost on Fidelma.
‘Perhaps you did not even tell your companions the truth of why you really brought them to the land of the Cinél na Áeda,’ she went on confidently, hoping she was interpreting the movement correctly.
Again, Brother Dangila was silent.
‘It was Accobrán who suggested that you came to this abbey, wasn’t it?’ Fidelma prompted.
The young tanist, who had been lounging with a cynical smile on his face, suddenly tensed.
‘What are you implying?’ he demanded, moving forward, but Becc reached out a hand and held him back.
Fidelma ignored him.
‘What did Accobrán offer you in return for coming here to use your talent in spotting gold veins in the old mines here?’ she said.
‘Outrageous!’ cried Accobrán, taking another involuntary step forward but this time finding his path blocked by the stocky frame of Eadulf. ‘How dare you…?’
Sister Fidelma smiled softly at him. ‘I dare because I am a dálaigh. As Brother Dangila seems reticent, perhaps you will tell me what you offered him to come and be your mine surveyor?’
Becc leant forward, frowning at his nephew. ‘A tanist has a duty to clear such a matter not only with myself but with the council of the Cinél na Áeda. He could not act arbitrarily.’
Fidelma continued to look questioningly at Accobrán but replied to the chieftain. ‘Your tanist was not intending to share any wealth that he discovered with you or the Cinél na Áeda. This leads me to the second of the crimes that I have said have been committed here — a betrayal of trust by your tanist, the man whom you appointed your heir-apparent.’
Accobrán had grabbed his sword hilt to unsheathe the weapon but Eadulf seized a short sword from a nearby warrior and placed its point lightly against the tanist’s midriff. He smiled apologetically.
‘Aequo animo,’ he said softly, advising the man to be calm. ‘Aequam servare mentem.’