"He died defending me, Colgu," she said quietly.
Her brother inclined his head.
"I think he would have wanted it that way, little sister. So long as his efforts were not wasted, his soul will be satisfied. His death will not cancel your investigation?" he added anxiously, as the thought occurred to him.
Fidelma's lips compressed for a moment.
"No," she said firmly, after a moment. "Death cancels many things but never the triumph of truth. His soul will soon rest easy for I believe that I am near to reaching that truth which has evaded me for so long."
Chapter Eighteen
Fidelma perched on the top of the bastion, by the walkway which ran around the exterior wall of the abbey, and gazed thoughtfully down into the inlet before Ros Ailithir. The quiet bay had suddenly become a forest of masts and spars rising from countless ships. Warships and coastal barca had congregated in the sheltered harbor, like a shoal of fish in a spawning ground, bearing dignitaries from the High King's own royal domains of Meath as well as from Laigin itself. The annalists, who would record the proceedings, had also arrived with the Chief Brehon. There was the ornate vessel which had brought Ultan, Archbishop of Armagh, Chief Apostle of the Faith in the five kingdoms, and his advisors.
Only the representatives of Muman had arrived overland by horse. And it had been a lucky thing for Fidelma that they had. In her life Fidelma had seen and been associated with many violent deaths. Indeed, death seemed a constant companion to her in her profession. Then death was not too far removed from anyone living close to nature and attuned to the realities of life. It was as natural to die as to be born and yet many still feared death. Even that fear was natural, conceded Fidelma, for children often fear to go into the dark and death was an unknown darkness. In spite of her reflections, it did not alleviate her intense sadness at the death of Cass. He had had much to live for, much to learn. She felt a terrible guilt that it had been her stubborn will that had caused his death. Had she listened to his warning not to go rushing into Salbach's lair, he might still have been alive.
She regretted having been so harsh with him in argument and deplored her sin of vanity in that she had prided herself on intellectual superiority. Yet, even now, that small voice in the deep recesses of her mind asked her whether she was sad for Cass or sad for her own mortality. She felt uncomfortable at that insistent little voice. She remembered a line from her Greek lessons, a line from Bacchylides: "The hardest of deaths to a mortal, is the death they see ahead of them."
She tried not to dwell on the sadness she felt but attempted to bring her thoughts to the immediate matter in hand, seeking comfort with an axiom of her mentor, the old Brehon Morann of Tara: "He who is remembered is not dead for to be truly dead you must be forgotten entirely."
The sun was lowering now across the distant western mountains and tomorrow, at tierce, the bell would summon those concerned to the abbey church where the High King's court would be assembled to hear the claims of Laigin concerning the death of Dacán.
"Sister Fidelma?" She raised her head and found young Sister Necht standing a little way off, regarding her with a solemn face. "I do not want to disturb you."
Fidelma indicated the wall beside her.
"Seat yourself. You are not disturbing me. What is it that I can do for you?"
"Firstly, I wanted to tell you that I was sorry to hear of the death of your companion, Cass," the novice said as she seated herself awkwardly, her voice made deeper by emotion. "He was a good man. I would have liked to have been a warrior like him."
Fidelma found herself unable to prevent a gentle smile of amusement on her lips at the concept.
"Surely a vain ambition for a young novice?"
The girl blushed furiously.
"I meant…"
"No matter," Fidelma pacified. "Forgive me an indelicate humor. It is but a self-defense for my own sadness. You said there was something else?"
The young girl hesitated then nodded.
"I came to bring you some news. Your brother's warriors have captured Salbach and brought him to Ros Ailithir."
"That is good news, indeed," confirmed Fidelma with satisfaction.
"Apparently he was found with his cousin in a secret rendezvous."
"His cousin? Do you mean with Scandlán, the king of Osraige?"
Sister Necht nodded emphatically.
"Have they brought Scandlán here as well?"
"He came of his own accord, crying out that it was an outrage that his brother should be so treated."
"Has Salbach admitted that Intat acted under his command?"
"That I do not know, sister. Abbot Brocc told me to find you and give you this news. I think that Salbach is refusing to answer any questions. But Brocc asks whether you wish to attempt to question Salbach before the hearing tomorrow."
Fidelma rose immediately.
"That I do. Where are Brocc and my brother Colgu now?"
"They are in the abbot's chambers," replied Sister Necht.
"Then I shall find my way there."
"I am looking forward to the assembly tomorrow." Necht smiled. "Good night, sister."
She turned and hurried away. For a moment or so, Fidelma stood watching her ungainly carriage as Necht made her way into the darkness of the abbey corridors. Some thoughts stirred in her mind, a confusion of ideas which she could not work out. Fidelma shrugged and turned in the direction of Brocc's chambers.
Fidelma knocked and, in reply to Brocc's summons, entered. Her brother was seated where Brocc usually sat. Colgu smiled as his sister came in. Brocc was sharing a jug of wine with him.
"Did Sister Necht find you, cousin?" asked the abbot unnecessarily.
Fidelma inclined her head in an affirmative.
"She told me that you have Salbach in a cell," she replied. "That is good."
"But we also have to put up with his cousin from Osraige crying to the heavens that no such innocence was ever so scandalously defamed." Colgu grimaced wryly. "Yet there is now no doubt of Salbach's role in the hideous crimes at Rae na Serine and the house of Molua. The two companions of Intat were quickly persuaded to place responsibility for their deeds on to others."
Fidelma raised her eyebrows in anticipation. Her brother nodded his head in confirmation to her unasked question.
"They admitted that they were paid to do what they did by Intat and they further swear that they were witnesses to Intat receiving his instructions from Salbach."
"This is so," Brocc added with satisfaction. "But they disclaim any culpability or knowledge about the murders of Dacán and Eisten. My scriptor has already written out their statements for you to read and we will hold them in the abbey ready to testify before the assembly tomorrow."
Fidelma smiled in relief and took the wax tablets which Brocc handed her, glancing though them quickly.
"We have taken a good stride along the path to a resolution. I wonder if Salbach will admit the truth if I present him with this evidence?"
"It is worth a try," Colgu agreed.
"Then I shall go and question him at once."
Colgu rose and moved to the door.
"Then I'd better come with you." He grinned at his younger sister. "You need someone to keep an eye on you."
Salbach stood defiantly in his cell as Sister Fidelma entered. He did not even bother to acknowledge Colgu, who entered with her and stood just inside the door.
"Ah, I thought you would come, Fidelma of Kildare."
His voice was cold and taunting.
"I am glad that I have fulfilled your expectation, Salbach," she replied with equal solemnity. "The High King's assembly meets tomorrow."
Fidelma took the solitary wooden chair in the cell for herself. Salbach frowned, hesitating at her assured manner, but continued to stand, feet apart, arms folded before him. He said nothing as Fidelma allowed her appraising gaze to wander over him. She felt repulsed by this man who could order the death of children without a qualm.