‘I was told that a physician had examined the abbot’s body,’ explained Fidelma. ‘Conri conducted us here.’
‘I am that physician,’ Airmid confirmed easily and indicated a bench for them to be seated while taking a stool opposite. ‘This is a sad event, and one that has upset my brother considerably. He was hoping to strengthen the peace that he has made with your brother. This murder has provided an opportunity for Abbot Nannid to pursue his ambitions.’
‘Abbot Nannid has ambitions?’ Eadulf asked in surprise. ‘So far as I am aware, Mungairit is the largest abbey among the Ui Fidgente. He is its abbot. What other ambition could he have?’
‘The abbots of our kingdoms are usually of the royal families. Abbot Nannid is a cousin of Crundmael of the Ua Coirpri. Crundmael’s son, Eoghanan, led the Ui Fidgente against Cashel at Cnoc Aine where Colgu defeated him. If anything happened to my brother, Nannid could have a legitimate right to claim that he be ruler.’
‘I did not know that,’ admitted Fidelma. ‘But you are Donennach’s heir-apparent.’
‘I hold the office only on sufferance; that is, until someone better qualified in the eyes of the derbhfine emerges,’ smiled the physician. ‘My brother’s son is not yet of the age of responsibility but it is hoped that he will prove himself a worthy successor. However, Nannid’s ambition is one that concerns us. If my brother stands against Nannid and his newfound views, then who knows what might happen?’
‘Newfound views?’ Eadulf picked up the phrase.
‘It was not that long ago that Nannid decided to become a champion of the Penitentials, claiming that they superseded the laws of the Brehons. Having now claimed the role of spokesman for those who believe this, Nannid is making himself very popular among several of our clerics.’
‘And this is why your brother finds it hard to challenge him about Gorman? I see … Nannid has decided to make this an issue of magnitude.’ Fidelma could understand Donennach’s dilemma.
‘Whichever choice Donennach makes, I am afraid it will mean war and perhaps the destruction of our house.’
‘Let me finish my investigation first before the sentence is given on punishment,’ Fidelma advised. ‘Gorman has yet to be proven guilty beyond all doubt.’
Airmid looked sceptical. ‘Well, I do not think that I can help you.’
‘What do you mean?’ Eadulf demanded.
‘Oh, it is not that I won’t,’ Airmid explained hastily, ‘but I can’t present you with any magical evidence that would prove your warrior friend is innocent as he has claimed. I was summoned to the abbot’s chamber and found that he had been stabbed several times in the chest and in the neck. The wounds were such that they seemed to have been struck in a frenzy of anger.’
‘Did you also examine Gorman?’
‘Only afterwards, when he had been dragged to the cells and handled roughly by our guards. I could discount the superficial bruises from that beating. He maintained that he had been struck from behind and rendered unconscious, as you already know. He had certainly been struck on the head,’ Airmid told them. ‘There was evidence of a blow on the right side of the skull.’
‘Had the skin been cut there?’ Eadulf asked.
‘The bruising and swelling could have been made with a staff striking the area above the right ear, with some force. But there was no sign of the skin being perforated and bleeding.’
‘No blood?’
‘None. Is that important?’
‘It is claimed that he was struck with the abbot’s staff,’ Eadulf pointed out.
‘So I was told,’ she nodded. ‘It seems logical that the abbot would use it to defend himself with.’
‘And was the staff presented in evidence to Brehon Faolchair at the hearing?’
Airmid grimaced. ‘The circumstances and events were considered obvious and so I was not summoned to any formal hearing. My opinion, when I gave it to Brehon Faolchair, was not deemed to be at odds with the rest of the evidence. I could only say what I observed of the injuries, no more, no less.’
‘And for that we are grateful,’ Eadulf said, with a glance to Fidelma to signal that he had finished.
They left Airmid’s apothecary, but before Fidelma could question Eadulf, they found Brehon Faolchair coming towards the building.
‘Lady,’ he greeted her. ‘Conri said that I might find you here.’
‘And you have found me,’ Fidelma replied.
‘Conri told me that you were interested in the key of Abbot Segdae’s chamber. It was found by Lachtna when they broke in. It was lying on the floor, which was proof that the door had been secured from the inside.’
‘So I am told.’
Brehon Faolchair fumbled in his bossan, the pouch he wore at his waist, drew out a bronze key and offered it to her.
‘This is the key to the abbot’s chamber. Lachtna and Brother Tuaman confirm that it was found inside the room.’
Fidelma took it and turned it over. It was unremarkable. Keys and locks were common enough and certainly varied in design thanks to the mastery of the locksmiths, who often chose between bronze and iron to make their locks and keys.
To the obvious surprise of Brehon Faolchair, she closed a hand around the key and said: ‘Forgive me if I keep this for just a short while until I check that it does fit in the lock.’
‘You have my word it fits the lock,’ he said, and bridled a little.
‘I do not doubt your word, but first-hand knowledge is always better.’
The Brehon gave a snort and turned away, saying; ‘It will soon be time for the midday meal. A bell will ring. You will find me at that time in the great hall.’
Eadulf seemed as eager as she was to retrace their steps back to the guest-hostel, Fidelma noticed. Her reason was that it would be a good opportunity to try the key, but she wondered why he was so keen. This time there was no guard outside the building and so they entered freely. Brother Tuaman was still there, apparently just leaving the building. He seemed surprised to see them again.
‘You seek me, lady?’
Fidelma shook her head. ‘I just needed to check something. We will not detain you.’
The steward hovered uncertainly as Fidelma and Eadulf quickly climbed up to the next storey. Eadulf waited as she inserted the key into the damaged lock. It fitted and even turned easily, for it was only the wood around the lock, where it had been fitted to the door, which was splintered.
Eadulf was suddenly aware that Brother Tuaman had followed them up the stairs and was watching them with curiosity.
‘Are you sure you do not need my help?’ he enquired when he saw that Eadulf had spotted him.
‘We don’t want to delay you when you were so obviously leaving,’ Eadulf replied pointedly.
The man hesitated before turning and descending the stairs. Eadulf looked round to find that Fidelma had already entered the chamber and was bending to pick up the key from a spot behind the door.
She looked up and told Eadulf: ‘I just wanted to check the position where Lachtna said that he had found the key when they burst into the chamber.’
As she straightened up, Eadulf placed a finger against his lips and nodded to the chamber that was used by Prior Cuan. He moved across and cautiously opened the door. Fidelma followed him with a puzzled frown. Eadulf entered and gestured to the abbot’s staff which stood in a corner, still resting against the wall.
‘I cannot accept that this was the weapon that knocked out Gorman,’ he whispered, ‘or inflicted the wound described by Airmid just now.’
‘Why not?’ Fidelma asked.
Eadulf took the staff and indicated the heavy silver crucifix at the top.
‘If the abbot had struck Gorman with this staff, the sharpness of the metal would have lacerated his skin. There would have been a great deal of blood and the wound would have been noticeable and needed treatment. No one has mentioned bloodshed. The physician said it was merely a bruise, an abrasion but not a wound.’