He left the refectory with Brother Rumann clucking after him.
Sister Necht, Brother Rumann’s assistant, was the young, heavy-looking woman whom Fidelma had seen briefly on entering the abbey. She had been asked by Conghus to take charge of Sister Eisten and the children. She was fresh-faced, with reddish, almost copper-burnished, curly hair tumbling under her head-dress. Her shoulders were too broad and her chin too square for her to be called attractive. Fidelma found that she was quick to smile but easy to upset. However, she was eager to please and obviously excited at being given a task which was not usual in the rigid sequentially ordered work that was the daily round of community.
If anything, Sister Necht showed herself to be somewhat in awe of Sister Fidelma. It was obvious that she had been told that Fidelma was sister to the heir-apparent of the kingdom, cousin to the abbot, and was, in her own right, a distinguished dálaigh of the law courts of the land who had stood to give judgment before the High King and even at the request of the Holy Father so far away in Rome. Young Sister Necht was clearly a hero-worshipper.
Fidelma immediately forgave her the nervousness and spaniel-like adoration. The age of innocence would soon pass. Fidelma felt that it was sad that children had so quickly to pass into adulthood. What was it that Publilius Syrus had written? If you would live innocently, do not lose the heart and mind you possessed in your childhood.
Having installed themselves in the chamber in which theyhad eaten their first meal at the abbey, Fidelma sent Necht to bring the aistreóir, Brother Conghus, to them.
‘We will start at the beginning,’ she explained to Cass. ‘Conghus was the first person to discover the body of the Venerable Dacán.’
Cass was unsure of his rôle now. He had no training in law and had never witnessed a dálaigh investigating a crime before. So he took up a seat in a corner of the chamber, in the background, and let Fidelma seat herself at the table on which a lantern had been placed to give light to the proceedings.
It was not long before a slightly breathless Sister Necht returned with the thickset doorkeeper, Brother Conghus, at her heels.
‘I’ve brought him, sister,’ gasped the girl, in a deep, husky voice which seemed her normal tone. ‘Just as you said I should.’
Fidelma tried to suppress a smile and waved the young novice to take a seat by Cass.
‘You may wait there, Sister Necht. You will not speak until I speak to you nor will you ever reveal anything that you may hear in this room. I must have your solemn oath on this, if you are to remain to assist me.’
The novice swore at once and assumed her place.
Fidelma then turned her sharp smile to Brother Conghus who had stood waiting in the doorway.
‘Come in, shut the door and take a seat, brother,’ she instructed firmly.
The doorkeeper did as he was bid.
‘How may I help, sister?’ he asked once he was settled.
‘I must ask you some questions. I have to ask you, officially, if you know the purpose of my visit?’
Conghus shrugged: ‘Who does not?’
‘Very well. Let us go back to the day of the Venerable Dacán’s death. I am told that you were the first to discover the body?’
Conghus grimaced as if in distaste at the memory.
‘That is so.’
‘Describe the circumstances, if you please.’
Conghus paused to gather his thoughts.
‘Dacán was a man of regular habits. His day, so I had perceived, during the two months that he lodged at the abbey, was one of ritual observance. One could almost tell the time of day by his movements.’
He paused again as if reflecting.
‘My job as doorkeeper also includes bellringer. I ring the main hours and services. The bell for matins heralds the beginning of our day which is followed by the jentaculum, our first meal of the day. Because we are a large community and our refectory cannot accommodate everyone, we eat in three separate sittings. Dacán invariable ate at the middle sitting as did I. This timing allows me the opportunity to pursue my duties at the ringing of the hours. After the third sitting for the jentaculum I ring the hour of the tierce when the work of the community starts.’
‘I understand,’ Fidelma said, when the doorkeeper paused and glanced at her in silent question to see if she was following.
‘Well, this particular morning, two weeks ago on the day of Luan, Dacán was not at his place for the breaking of the fast. I made inquiries, for it was so unusual that he would miss a meal. You see …’
‘You have already explained how rigid his habits were,’ Fidelma interrupted quickly.
Conghus blinked and then nodded.
‘Just so. Well, I ascertained that he had not been at the earlier sitting. So after I had eaten, curiosity took me to the hostel to look for him.’
‘Where was his chamber?’
‘On the first floor.’ Conghus began to rise from his seat. ‘I can show you the chamber now …’
Fidelma waved him back to his seat.
‘You may do so in a moment. Let us continue. So, you came to search for Dacán?’
‘I did. There is little more to add. I went to his chamber and called to him. There was no answer. So I opened the door …’
‘No answer?’ Fidelma interrupted. ‘Surely if there was no answer, one might assume that the Venerable Dacán was not in his room? What made you decide to open the door?’
Conghus grimaced, frowning.
‘Why … why, I saw a light flickering under the door. It is dark in the passage so any light shines out. The light attracted me. I reasoned that if Dacán had left a light burning, then I should extinguish it. Frugality is another Rule of the Blessed Fachtna,’ he added sanctimoniously.
‘I see. So you saw a light and then …?’
‘I went in.’
‘What was the cause of the light?’
‘There was an oil lamp lit, it was still burning.’
‘Go on,’ Fidelma urged, when Conghus continued to hesitate.
‘Dacán was laying dead on his bed. That is all.’
Fidelma suppressed a sigh of irritation.
‘Let us try to establish a few more details, Brother Conghus,’ she said patiently. ‘Imagine yourself back at the threshold of the door. Describe what you saw.’
Conghus frowned again and appeared to give some deep thought to the question.
‘The chamber was lit by the oil lamp, which was on a small table at the side of the cot. Dacán was fully dressed. He was lying on his back. The first thing I noticed about him was that his feet and his hands were bound …’
‘With rope?’
Conghus shook his head.
‘With strips of cloth; linen cloth with parti-colours of blueand red. He also had a strip of the same cloth in his mouth. I presumed this was in the nature of a gag. Then I saw that there were bloodstains all over his chest. I realised that he had been killed.’
‘Very well. Now tell me, was there any sign of a knife — the knife that inflicted the wounds?’
‘None that I could see.’
‘Was one found subsequently?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘How were Dacán’s features?’
‘I do not understand,’ frowned Conghus.
‘Was the face calm and reposed? Were the eyes open or shut. How did he look?’
‘Calm, I would say. There was no fear or pain engraved on the dead features, if that is what you mean.’
‘That is precisely what I mean,’ Fidelma replied grimly. ‘Good. We now progress. You realised that Dacán had been killed. Did you notice anything else about the room? Had it been ransacked? Was it in order? If Dacán was so rigid in his habits it would imply that he would be scrupulously tidy.’
‘The room was tidy so far as I can remember. You are right, of course, Dacán’s fastidiousness was well known. But Sister Necht will tell you more about that.’