‘Curious,’ murmured Fidelma.
‘Not even a marsupium or tiag luibhar, no bags to carry even a small book,’ added Eadulf, reading her thoughts.
Fidelma pointed beneath the bed. Just at the foot, barely visible, was the end of wooden box.
‘Bring that out, Eadulf. Perhaps we’ll find something inside.’
Eadulf went on his knees on the floor and dragged the box out. It was not secured and so he lifted the lid. It contained nothing more interesting than a pair of sandals, a robe, and underclothes.
‘Well, I am quite sure that there is nothing here. Even aside from the question of any precious manuscripts, a scholar of his reputation would have had some documents in his room. But there are no papers here at all.’
‘Then we must work on the assumption that the murderer stole them,’ Fidelma suggested. She was moving around the small cubiculum, examining the walls.
‘What are you looking for?’ Eadulf asked.
‘Another way in. We are told that Brother Donnchad was murdered here. Stabbed in the back. We are told that the door was locked from the inside because there was only one key and that key was found by the body on the bed. It looks as though no access could be made from the door or the window there.’
‘This accounts for a mood of unease and stories of supernatural entities,’ replied Eadulf. ‘I was told this morning in the refectorium that one of the brethren claims he actually saw an angel flying by the building.’
‘I think that, too, can be discounted,’ replied Fidelma coldly.‘So how did the human agent enter here, kill the victim and leave with a bundle of manuscripts without a trace of entry or exit?’
‘There might be another key, of course,’ he offered.
‘The smith who made the lock and key would be able to answer that and we will ask him. In the meantime, let us see if we can eliminate any other means of entry.’
‘You believe there might be another way of entering here?’ He was sceptical. ‘If there were another means, Glassán the builder would surely have known about it and informed the abbot. After all, he must have built this place.’
‘Better we should check ourselves,’ she replied.
Eadulf looked on with some cynicism. ‘If someone popped out of a secret door or tunnel, the sound of it opening would have alerted Brother Donnchad. This place is small and he would have put up a struggle with the assailant. Indeed,’ he continued warming to his reasoning, ‘he would have been equally warned if someone had come to the door and opened it with another key.’
‘You are right, Eadulf.’ Fidelma paused, standing thoughtfully for a moment. ‘Even if he was fast asleep in bed and slept through the sound of the assailant’s entrance, how would his killer have been able to stab him in the back without a struggle?’
There was a movement in the corridor and a moment later Brother Lugna entered with a tall, dark man whose sour expression seemed to fit his saturnine features.
‘This is Brother Seachlann, our physician,’ the steward announced, standing aside.
‘As I am unable to examine the corpse for myself, you must explain to me the nature of the man’s death,’ Fidelma said.
‘Little to explain. He was stabbed twice and died.’
Fidelma smiled thinly at the man’s offhand manner which bordered on insolence.
‘I think a little more information is in order,’ she said gently. Eadulf recognised her dangerous tone. ‘Where was he stabbed?’
Brother Seachlann frowned in annoyance. ‘In the back. Haven’t you been told?’ His voice was full of arrogance. ‘I cannot understand why you must waste my time with such questions. I am a qualified liaig, a physician, and am to be treated with respect and not summoned to answer questions that have no need of an answer.’
Eadulf waited for the explosion. It did not come.
‘Brother Seachlann,’ Fidelma spoke very softly, ‘so far no one has treated you with disrespect. I am a dálaigh, an advocate of the courts, qualified to the level of anruth. I accept that you are a qualified physician. As such, you ought to know enough of the law to realise that you must respond to my questions. Failing to provide satisfactory answers to me can result in censureship and a fine. I have the power to take away your echlaisc. So I hope you will save me the trouble of having to drag from you every little piece of information that I want. Do I make myself understood?’
What Fidelma meant by taking away his echlaisc was that she could have him disbarred from medicine. A doctor usually went to visit his patients on horseback and thus an echlais, a horsewhip, had become the symbol of a physician.
Brother Seachlann flushed, swallowed and glanced at Brother Lugna, who stared expressionless before him.
‘Brother Donnchad was stabbed twice in the back. He died from those wounds.’ The information was given almost between clenched teeth.
Fidelma ignored his apparent petulance.
‘Eadulf, come here and stand in front of Brother Seachlann with your back to him. Good. Now, Brother Seachlann, can you show me where these two wounds were?’
The physician leaned forward and tapped Eadulf under theribcage on the left-hand side of the back and then again on the left-hand side of the neck, just at its base.
‘Can you say anything more about the wounds?’ pressed Fidelma.
‘The lower one was struck in an upward manner and the one at the neck was struck downwards.’
‘And was there much bleeding?’
‘There was blood over the bed and floor.’
‘Do you have any further comment about the wounds?’
‘Only that they caused his death.’ Brother Seachlann barely concealed his contempt.
‘Eadulf, what do you say?’ Fidelma asked.
‘The vital organs are fairly well protected by the bones in the back, according to Galen’s works on anatomy,’ he began. ‘There are many bones covering the back. It occurs to me that the upward thrust and the downward thrust are indicative of someone who has a rudimentary if not expert knowledge of such matters. They knew they had to find soft tissue between the bones to strike at a vital organ that would result in death, and instantaneous death at that. A warrior would know that or a good physician.’
Brother Seachlann’s irritation increased. ‘And what would you know of such matters, Saxon?’ he snapped. ‘I am the expert here.’
‘Eadulf spent some time at our great medical school of Tuaim Brecain,’ replied Fidelma sharply, before Eadulf could respond. ‘It seems that his eye is much more discerning than your own, physician.’
The physician swallowed hard. Again, a tinge of red came to his cheeks.
‘I am fully qualified in all the healing arts and no one has questioned me before in this manner. I am qualified to the level of-’
‘I heard you the first time,’ interrupted Fidelma with emphasis. ‘Where were you qualified?’
‘I am of the … I studied at Sléibhte.’
‘Well, Seachlann of Sléibhte, I have never heard that the people of the Kingdom of Laighin were disrespectful to their Brehons.’
The physician glanced uneasily towards Brother Lugna as if expecting him to say something.
‘Brother Seachlann has only recently joined our community,’ the steward belatedly intervened. ‘We have found him an excellent physician.’
‘Then he should also know how to give evidence to a Brehon,’ replied Fidelma.
Brother Seachlann seemed flustered. He said nothing.
‘Tell me, physician,’ Fidelma spoke slowly and deliberately, ‘having seen the wounds that caused the death of Brother Donnchad, would you agree with my husband, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham? Do you concur that they were delivered by someone whose intention was to kill and were delivered with some foreknowledge of where to strike a death blow? Or do you argue that they were delivered in a frenzied attack born of anger or some other emotion?’