‘If you believe a dead man can move, then he was capable of movement,’ she snapped sarcastically.
‘I am trying to clarify the facts,’ replied Fidelma evenly. ‘The blow was struck from behind with such a force that it shattered his skull, is that right?’
‘I have said so.’
‘But the body was found lying on its back.’
Sister Uallann was not perturbed.
‘Then it is surely logical that, after the blow was struck, the killer turned it over on its back.’
‘Clearly logical,’ Fidelma smiled thinly, ‘but it would be a poor dalaigh who does not consult the physician to seek verification of the medical logic. I presume that you knew the Venerable Cinaed well?’
‘Well enough.’ It was said in a truculent manner.
‘Would you say that you were a close friend of his?’
‘Not close. I respected some of his arguments. He was, after all, a careful scholar. Yet I did not agree with his fundamental attitudes.’
‘About the Faith?’
To her surprise Sister Uallann shook her head.
‘I did not like his essay Scripta quae ad remplicum geredam pertinent — his writings on how the Ui Fidgente should govern their temporal lives. Cinaed had views on everything. Those views angered many people. Eoganan, when he was king of the Ui Fidgente, sent his warriors to seize Cinaed but Abbess Faife, who was in control of the abbey in Abbot Erc’s temporary absence, refused to hand him over.’
Brother Cu Mara intervened.
‘I have heard the story. It happened just before the defeat at Cnoc Aine where Eoganan was killed. Had Eoganan been victorious, I don’t doubt that he would have sent his warriors back to the abbey to seize Cinaed whether the abbess protested or not.’
‘Did Abbot Erc support the abbess in her refusal to hand the Venerable Cinaed over?’ asked Fidelma.
The physician sniffed. ‘By the time he returned, there was no need to make a decision one way or another. Eoganan was defeated at Cnoc Aine. That was where my husband was slain, too,’ Sister Uallann added pointedly. ‘There are many here whose husbands were slaughtered by the Eoghanacht.’
Fidelma turned to Brother Cu Mara and spoke in a slightly sarcastic tone.
‘So, far from the Venerable Cinaed being a scholar beloved by everyone, we now find out that he had many enemies. Not least, the supporters of the late Eoganan!’
‘Ah, poor Eoganan,’ Sister Uallann exclaimed in a whisper.
Fidelma turned quickly back to her.
‘You have made clear your views, Sister. You believe that your people should not have made peace with Cashel?’
To her surprise, the physician shook her head.
‘I am of the Corco Duibhne but my husband was Ui Fidgente.’
‘And you are saying that the Venerable Cinaed made enemies among the Ui Fidgente because of his political writings?’
‘We dwell in the territory of the Ui Fidgente but Cinaed believed, even before the disaster at Cnoc Aine, that we should owe allegiance to the
Fidelma sat for a few moments staring at the grim-faced physician and then she stood up.
‘I am grateful for what you have said, Sister Uallann,’ she said quietly. Outside they found Eadulf, having returned from the tech-nigid, looking for them. Eadulf was about to ask how Fidelma had fared when he caught the warning look on her face. She turned to Brother Cu Mara.
‘All I need ask you is to guide us to your tech-screptra, then we shan’t need your assistance until after the etar-suth.’ She used the term ‘middle fruits’ which was the more popular name in monastic foundations for the etar-shod or ‘middle meal’ of the day.’
‘The library?’ queried the rechtaire with a frown.
‘That is what I said. I need a word with Brother Eolas, your librarian.’ Fidelma added to Eadulf, ‘I think there may be some important information that we could find there.’
CHAPTER FIVE
E ven Eadulf was impressed by the size of the tech-screptra, the great library of Ard Fhearta. He knew of the fame of the Irish ecclesiastical colleges for learning. That meant that each one had need for books for students and therefore they had good general libraries. He had seen that these libraries contained not only works in the native language but books in Latin, Greek and Hebrew. As he followed Fidelma into the room he paused in astonishment at the rows and rows of racks with their pegs from which hung leather book satchels, the tiaga liubhair which not only were employed to carry books from place to place, being slung from the shoulder by one or more straps, but provided an excellent means of keeping the books in good condition in the libraries. Eadulf estimated that there were many hundreds, hanging along the racks.
There were also shelves on which stood many obviously valued volumes in elaborately wrought and beautifully ornamented leather covers, some of which were kept in lebor chomet or book holders made partly or wholly of metals. Eadulf had noticed that special books were kept in very ornate and valuable metal and wood boxes, which were piously called book shrines. He noticed that the tech-screptra had several of these set to one side.
In the centre of the library was a row of desks occupied by the copyists and scribes. Each had a wooden chair and a desk of yew wood, a plinth topped by a frame on which the book or manuscript page rested. A maulstick was used to steady the hand of the copyist. Half a dozen men now bent to their task using quills from geese or swans and writing on vellum or parchment. Other scholars, simply researching from the books, were using the standard writing tablets, wooden frames in which melted wax had been allowed to set. These could then be a temporary means of raibh, a sharp-pointed stylus of metal. After the notes had been used, or transcribed into the vellum books, the wax could be melted again and remoulded into the tablet to be used again.
A round-shouldered man, his arms folded before him in the sleeves of his robe, came shuffling forward as they entered. He seemed smaller than he actually was because of his hunched appearance. It was obviously the product of many years bent to his literary endeavours. He peered from one to another.
‘I am the leabhar coimedach,’ he intoned in a whisper. ‘How can I be of service?’
‘I am Fidelma of-’
‘The dalaigh from Cashel?’ interrupted the librarian, still whispering. ‘You are most welcome, lady. I saw you and your companion, Brother Eadulf, at the evening prayers yesterday. I know why you are here. The tech-screptra is at your disposal.’
‘Thank you. I take it that you are Brother Eolas?’ When the man bowed his head in acknowledgement of the fact, she went on, ‘I am interested in the works of the Venerable Cinaed.’
‘The Venerable Cinaed? Come this way.’ He led them to a corner of the library. ‘This is the section of original books and writings made by our brethren. We have had many scholars who have contributed to our library during the many decades of our history. See, there, that book contains the hymns of Colman moccu Clusaig who stayed here during the year of the Yellow Plague. He wrote many of his hymns here, including Sen De, the Blessing of God. Our master of song, Brother Cill n, became a great friend of Colman. If you have an interest in music, you must speak to Brother Cill n about his own songs before you leave. And in that volume,’ pointing, ‘we have some letters which the abbot of Iona, Cuimine Ailbhe, wrote to the Venerable Cinaed arguing about the dating of the Casc.’ He glanced at Eadulf. ‘You Saxons call it Easter. I believe you insist on retaining the feast of your goddess of fertility?’ There was disapproval in his voice. ‘Abbot Cuimine has accepted the new dating that Rome has adopted. However, like many of our great scholars, the Venerable Cinaed disagreed with him and believed that Rome was wrong in its calculations. But Abbot Cuimine Ailbhe remained a friend of the Venerable Cinaed and sent him his own work De Poententiarum Mensura as a gift which is now in the book shrine there’ — he gestured to it — ‘as one of the great works we hold and-’