‘I can only say that Eadulf had good reason to be there.’ She felt compelled to defend Eadulf. ‘You must indulge us while we investigate.’
‘I fail to see what stumbling about the new buildings in the middle of the night has to do with the death of Brother Donnchad.’ Brother Lugna’s tone was critical.
‘By time everything is revealed,’ smiled Fidelma, airing the old proverb.
Brother Lugna seemed about to speak further but then compressed his lips into a thin line and turned away.
Abbot Iarnla looked anxiously after him. ‘I hope you will be able to come to some conclusions soon, Fidelma.’
‘One cannot hurry truth, Abbot Iarnla,’ she replied in a philosophical tone. ‘There is more to be done and more to be asked.’
The abbot stood hesitantly. ‘You will keep me informed as soon as you know anything positive?’
‘You will be informed,’ she assured him solemnly.
As they watched Abbot Iarnla walk across the courtyard to the main abbey buildings, Gormán heaved a deep sigh.
‘I would say that he is a worried person, lady,’ he remarked softly.
‘I would agree, Gormán,’ she replied. ‘I think there is much to be worried about in this abbey. Keep your eyes open, Gormán. It might be helpful if you can pick up any gossip from the builders’ encampment. I am going into the scriptorium as I have a mind to ask a few more questions of Brother Donnán.’
She walked towards the abbey library. Behind her the work on the new buildings had recommenced. The crash of hammers against stone, the sawing of wood and the shouts of men filled the air. Inside the wooden scriptorium the noise was barely muffled and the scriptor Brother Donnán was wringing his hands in despair. He came forward quickly as the door opened but the hope on his face faded a little when Fidelma entered.
‘I was expecting Brother Lugna so that he could order the workmen to stop awhile. My copyists and scholars cannot concentrate at all. I have had to send them all away.’
Fidelma gazed around the empty library room. ‘So I see, Brother Donnán.’
Brother Donnán seemed almost about to burst into tears. ‘This is frustrating. Brother Lugna has made it a rule that no book or manuscript should be removed from the library so that I cannot ask my copyists to carry on the work elsewhere.’
‘But finding you here alone is good for me.’ Fidelma smiled. ‘I wanted a further word with you on your own.’
‘Is everything well?’ The scriptor’s tone was suddenly anxious. ‘Brother Máel Eoin came by and told me the news of Brother Eadulf. I hope he is not badly hurt.’
‘He is resting. He has a bad gash and bruises, but that is all.’
‘Well, that is bad enough but thanks be that he is no worse. It will be good for all of us when this building work is finished. It is so dangerous. But you wanted to speak with me?’ He gestured to a nearby chair and took another facing her.
‘Dangerous?’ asked Fidelma, sitting down. ‘In what way?’
‘During recent weeks there have been several accidents on the site. Indeed, I heard that Brother Lugna had to remonstrate with Glassán to take more care that no harm came to any of the brethren.’
Fidelma was thoughtful. ‘What sort of accidents?’ she asked.
‘Falling timbers. Timbers that were not secured. Oh, and a stone fell from a wall and nearly hit Glassán himself. He was very angry.’
‘He was not hurt?’
‘No, but the stone narrowly missed him.’
‘How many such accidents have there been?’
Brother Donnán thought for a moment and then shrugged.‘Four, as I recall, during the last few weeks. Five with Brother Eadulf’s accident.’
Fidelma raised her eyebrows. ‘Five? Has anyone else been injured?’
‘Two of the workmen. A grazed arm and cuts, that’s all.’
‘Has anyone been found responsible?’
Brother Donnán looked surprised. ‘Responsible?’
‘Have any workmen been censured for negligence?’
‘No one. Glassán put it down to shoddy workmanship. Oh, yes, now I come to think of it, he did fine one of his men for slackness.’
‘That is helpful, Brother Donnán.’ Fidelma was solemn. ‘But that was not what I wanted to speak to you about.’
‘I am at your service, as always.’
‘Indeed. You and I are old friends, Brother Donnán.’
The scriptor preened himself a little. ‘There were some tough cases to be heard by you that day you sat in judgement here as a Brehon. The witnesses needed to be sorted out. Do you remember the case of the son of Suanach, and Muadnat of the Black Marsh? That was a very complicated case. I was amazed how you worked it out.’
‘I could not have accomplished half of those judgements without someone to keep the witnesses and the court in proper order.’ Fidelma leant forward confidentially. ‘That is why I turn to you now, to ask your help. Information is what I need.’
‘If I have that information, it is yours.’
‘When did Brother Seachlann join the abbey?’
‘Brother Seachlann? The physician? He came here about a month ago.’
‘Only a month?’
Brother Donnán nodded.
‘Do you know anything of his background?’
‘He is a physician from Sléibhte. I know little else about him.’
‘Is it known why he came to join this abbey? Has there been any speculation?’
The rotund librarian shook his head slowly. ‘I certainly never gave it a thought. Our abbey is beginning to have a reputation for learning and I suppose that was what attracted him.’
‘What happened to the abbey’s previous physician? I presume that you had one.’
‘We did not have one for several months after poor Brother Siadhail died of some coughing paroxysm. He was elderly. Brother Seachlann came along at the right time.’
‘Is he considered a good physician? Is he well liked among the brethren?’
‘I have heard no complaints,’ Brother Donnán replied. ‘But as for being well liked, well, he keeps himself much to himself and does not venture friendship with anyone.’
‘So he is not close to anyone among the brethren?’
‘Perhaps that is the way a good physician should be,’ ventured the scriptor. ‘Then he can treat everyone equally and without favour.’
She smiled and nodded assent. ‘That’s probably how things should be.’ She paused and added, ‘You will remember that we were talking about Celsus the other day and Origenes’ answer to him.’
The scriptor frowned. ‘An interesting work. Origenes’ work, that is.’
‘It sounds a very fascinating work,’ Fidelma said. ‘I wonder why Brother Donnchad was so interested in it.’
‘I can tell you no more than I said before. He was a great scholar. And he often argued that one must understand the origins of the Faith. That was in the old days, of course, before he set off on his pilgrimage.’
Fidelma sighed. ‘I was hoping that you might know something of the work or someone who might have read it.’ She rosefrom the chair. ‘But you have helped a lot, for which I thank you.’
Brother Donnán seemed disconcerted for a moment. Then the door opened and a strange warrior stood hesitantly in the doorway. He cast a glance at Fidelma and then turned to Brother Donnán.
‘I am sorry to disturb you, Brother Donnán, but Lady Eithne has sent me for the books she requested.’
The librarian actually flushed and cast a nervous look at Fidelma. Then he hurried to a side cupboard and took out two leather book satchels and handed them to the warrior without a further word. The man thanked him and left immediately.
‘I thought you said Brother Lugna had a rule against books being taken from the library,’ Fidelma remarked as the door shut.
‘In the case of Lady Eithne an exception is made,’ Brother Donnán replied quickly. ‘She is, after all, the patroness of the abbey.’