Brocc saw the anxiety on her face and relented his own attitude.
"It is just that I am truly beginning to worry now, cousin. I have never attended a High King's assembly before," he added with some morbid fascination. "Were it not that I am charged as responsible in this matter it would have been an exhilarating experience."
Fidelma raised a cynical eyebrow.
"Exhilarating experience? It may also be a fatal one if I cannot present a case that will clear you and prevent the claim of Laigin leading to a war between the two kingdoms."
There was an uncomfortable silence, then Fidelma said, without expectation of a positive answer: "You have not told me whether there is any news of Sister Grella. I presume she has not returned?"
Brocc grimaced gloomily and confirmed her expectation.
"No. She has simply vanished. From what you told me I fear that she has fled with her guilt."
Fidelma frowned and rose.
"That we shall see. I shall need the material which I left with you."
Brocc nodded readily, reaching under his table for the keys. She watched as he went to the cabinet and unlocked the door, swinging it open. He took out her marsupium and handed it to her.
She rummaged through its contents to check everything was there.
Fidelma gave a sharp intake of breath. Someone had been through the contents of the bag. The burnt piece of Ogham stick and the pieces of vellum that she had found in Sister Grella's chamber were gone. Yet the linen bonds and the skirt from which they had been taken were still there.
"What is it?" Brocc asked, moving swiftly to her side.
She stood quietly awhile. It was no use responding emotionally to the disappearance of the crucial evidence which she had gathered and placed there for safekeeping.
"Someone has removed some vital pieces of evidence from my bag."
"I do not understand, cousin," breathed Brocc. He looked genuinely bewildered. His face was flushed with mortification.
"When was the last time you opened this cabinet, Brocc?" she asked.
"When you asked me to deposit the bag into it for safekeeping."
"And where have you kept the keys?"
"They are hung, as you have seen, on hooks under this table."
"And many people knew of that?"
"I thought that I was the only one who knew exactly where the keys were kept."
"It would not take a great deal of effort to find them. How many people knew that valuables were sometimes kept in that cabinet?"
"Only some of the senior members of the abbey."
"And, needless to say, anyone could have access to your chamber while you were performing the duties of your office?"
Brocc exhaled softly.
"No member of the brethren of this abbey would commit such a crime as theft from their abbot, cousin. It trespasses against the boundaries of the rules of our order."
"So does murder," Fidelma, replied dryly. "Yet someone in this abbey killed both Dacán and Sister Eisten. You say only the senior members of the abbey knew that valuables were sometimes placed there. Such as who?"
Brocc rubbed his chin.
"Brother Rumanri, of course. Brother Conghus. Our chief professor Brother Ségán. Brother Midach… oh, and Sister Grella, of course. But she is not here. That is all."
"It is enough." Fidelma was irritated. "Did you by any chance mention that I had left some valuables with you while I was away?"
Brocc started nervously and a red glow suffused his thin cheeks.
"My senior clerics did ask me where you had gone," he admitted reluctantly. "I could not tell them, as I did not know. But they were all concerned that this matter be cleared up. I said that I thought you had evidence, that you left… well, I think I mentioned that… I said that Sister Grella was to be held until you returned and…"
He faltered under Fidelma's angry gaze.
"So, perhaps it would not take long for anyone to find the logical hiding place for these keys. You might just as well have issued instructions."
"What can I say?" Brocc spread his hands as if to shield himself from the scorn in her voice. "I am truly sorry."
"No more sorry than I, Brocc," Fidelma snapped, moving for the door, angered at Brocc's careless attitude which had led to the loss of her salient evidence. "But the loss of that material will not prevent me from discovering the culprit, only, perhaps, from proving their involvement."
The first person she saw as she crossed the quadrangles to the hostel was the young Sister Necht. She looked startled as she caught sight of Fidelma.
"I thought that you had left us," she greeted in her slow, husky voice.
Fidelma shook her head.
"I cannot leave until my investigation is complete."
"I heard that you have ordered that Sister Grella be held."
"Sister Grella has disappeared."
"Yes. Everyone knows and believes that she has fled. Has anyone looked for her at Cuan Dóir, Salbach's fortress?" the novice suggested.
"Why so?" demanded Fidelma, startled.
"Why?" The sister rubbed her face and considered for a moment. "Because she has frequently visited there without telling anyone. She is a good friend to Salbach." Necht paused and smiled. "I know this because Sister Eisten told me."
"What did Eisten say?"
"Oh, that Grella once invited her to Salbach's fortress because Salbach was supposed to be interested in her orphanage. She told me that they seemed very good friends."
Fidelma looked at the guileless eyes of the novice for a minute.
"I understand that Midach is your anamchara, your soul-friend?"
Fidelma wondered why the question brought such a look of panic to the novice's face. Yet it was gone in a trice. Sister Necht forced a nervous smile.
"It is true."
"Have you known Midach long?"
"Most of my life. He was a friend of my father's and introduced me to the abbey."
Fidelma wondered how best to approach the subject on her mind and decided that the best way was the most direct.
"You do not have to put up with abuse, you know," she said. She remembered Midach's rough handling of the young religieuse; of the slap on her head.
Sister Necht flushed.
"I am not sure what you mean," she countered.
Fidelma grimaced in conciliatory fashion. She did not want the girl to feel humiliated by another seeing her being abused.
"It is just that I overheard Midach giving you a tongue-lashing for something and thought he might have maltreated you. It was in the herb garden a week ago just before I left."
Fidelma realized there was something more than humiliation in the eyes of the novice. There was something akin to fear.
"It was… was nothing. I had failed to perform a task for Midach. He is a good man. Sometimes his ternper becomes a little frayed. You will not report this to the abbot? Please?"
Fidelma smiled reassuringly.
"Not if you do not want me to, Necht. But no one, especially no woman, should put up with verbal abuse from others. The Bretha Nemed makes it an offence in law for a woman to be harassed and especially to be verbally assaulted. Did you know this?"
Sister Necht shook her head, gazing at the floor.
"No woman need stand by and be abused by anyone," went on Fidelma. "And the abuse need not be a physical assault but if a person mocks a woman, criticizes their appearance, draws attention to any physical blemish or wrongfully accuses them of things that are not true, then they have redress under the law."
"It was not so serious, sister," Necht said, with a further shake of her head. "I thank you for your interest but, really, Midach meant me no harm."