‘He was a scholar. The purpose of his visit to Ros Ailithir was to study. Where else should he spend his time?’
‘How long was he here?’
‘Surely the abbot would have told you that?’
‘Two months,’ Fidelma supplied, realising that the vivacious-looking librarian was not going to be helpful and that her questions would have to be phrased carefully to extract any information at all from her guarded responses. ‘And in that two months,’ Fidelma went on, ‘he spent most of his time in this library studying. What did he study?’
‘He was a scholar of history.’
‘He was well respected for his knowledge, I know,’ replied Fidelma patiently. ‘But what books did he study here?’
‘The books that are studied are a matter for the librarian and the scholar,’ countered Sister Grella woodenly.
Fidelma realised it was time to establish her authority.
‘Sister Grella,’ she said quietly, so softly that the librarian had to bend forward in her chair to catch the words. ‘I am a dálaigh engaged in the investigation of a murder. I am qualified to the level of anruth. This places certain rights and obligations on any whom I feel that I need to question. I am sure that as a sai you are perfectly aware of those obligations. You will now answer the questions that I put to you without further prevarication.’
Sister Grella suddenly sat stiff and upright as Fidelma’s voice rose sharply. Her eyes had widened a little, staring in ill-concealed anger at the younger woman. That she was unused to being so roundly rebuked showed by the tinge of red on her cheeks. She swallowed noisily.
‘What books did Dacán study here?’ repeated Fidelma.
‘He … he was interested in the volumes we have which applied to the history of … of Osraige.’
Osraige yet again! Fidelma gazed at the now impassive face of the librarian.
‘Osraige? Why would an abbey in the land of the Corco Loígde have books on a kingdom that lies many miles from here?’
For the first time Sister Grella’s lips twisted into a smile of superiority. It made her look coarse.
‘Obviously, Fidelma of Kildare, in spite of your qualification in law, you have little knowledge of the history of this land.’
Fidelma shrug indifferently.
‘Everyone is a beginner at another’s trade. I am content with law and leave the profession of history to historians. Enlighten me if there is something I need to know of this matter.’
‘Two hundred years ago there was a chieftain of the Osraige named Lugne. He visited this land of the Corco Loígde and met the chieftain’s daughter named Liadán. For a while they dwelt together on an island off the coast here. A son was born to them whom they named Ciarán and he became one of the great apostles of the Faith in Ireland.’
Fidelma had followed the recital with care.
‘I have read the story of the birth of the Blessed Ciarán which tells how his mother Liadán was sleeping one night and a star fell from heaven into her mouth and after this she became pregnant.’
The librarian was sharply indignant.
‘Storytellers like to embellish their tales with fantasy but the truth, as I tell you, was that Ciarán’s father was Lugne of Osraige.’
‘I do not mean to argue,’ Fidelma mollified her, ‘just that the stories of the great apostles of Ireland are manifold.’
‘I am telling you of the connection between Osraige and the Corco Loígde,’ replied the librarian sourly. ‘Do you want to know it or not?’
‘Continue then.’
‘When Ciarán grew to manhood, his father having died, he set off first to convert the people of his father’s kingdom to the new Faith. At that time, two hundred years ago, the majority still had not heard the Word of Christ. He converted Osraige and he is known as its patron saint, even though he chose to site his community at Saighir, which is just north of its border. This is why he is known as Ciarán of Saighir.’
Fidelma knew this very well but this time held her tongue.
‘I accept that Ciarán had a father from Osraige and a mother from Corco Loígde. Is this what Dacán was studying? A life of Ciarán?’
‘The point is that when Ciarán went to bring the Faith to the Osraige he also took many followers from the Corco Loígde including his own widowed mother, Liadán, who founded a community of religieuse not far from Saighir. And with those followers he took his closest friend and relative, Cúcraide mac Duí, who, after Ciaran had defeated the pagan king of the Osraige, was made king in his stead.’
Fidelma was now suddenly interested in the story.
‘So this is how the kings of the Osraige were chosen from the same family as the chieftains of the Corco Loígde?’
‘Exactly. For two hundred years the Osraige have been ruled by the family of the chieftains of the Corco Loígde. This rule has often been considered unjust. During the last hundred years several kings of the Osraige, from Corco Loígde, have met their death from their people, such as Feradach who was slain in his bed.’
‘And Salbach’s cousin Scandlán is also from the Corco Loígde?’
‘Just so.’
‘Is there still a conflict over the kingship?’
‘There will always be conflict until Osraige is able to reestablish its own line of kings.’
There was a slight vehemence in Grella’s voice which did not pass unnoticed.
‘Was this why Dacan was interested in studying the connections between Osraige and Corco Loígde?’
Grella was immediately on her guard once more.
‘He studied our texts on the history of Osraige and its petty kings, that is all I know.’
Fidelma sighed deeply in exasperation.
‘Come; it is surely logical? Dacán was of Laigin. Laigin has long held claims over Osraige. Perhaps Laigin was interested in placing the native kings of Osraige back in power if those kings turned their allegiance from Cashel to Laigin? Perhaps that is why Dacan was interested in the history of the kingship?’
Grella flushed and her mouth tightened.
Fidelma realised that she had been right and that Grella knew precisely what the old scholar had been studying.
‘Dacán was sent here by Fianamail the new king of Laigin, or by his own brother Abbot Noé of Fearna, who is the advisor to the new king, to gather the background on the kingship of Osraige so that a case might be presented against the Corco Loígde before the High King’s assembly. Surely that is so?’
Grella remained silent, staring defiantly at Fidelma.
Fidelma abruptly smiled at the librarian.
‘You are placed in an awkward position, Grella. As a woman of Osraige, knowing this, you seem to indicate a support for the dispossessed native kings. But I think it is now clear why the Venerable Dacan had come to Ros Ailithir. So why was he killed? To prevent that knowledge being taken back to Laigin?’
Sister Grella’s expression did not alter.
‘Come, speak, Grella,’ insisted Fidelma. ‘We are all entitled to our opinions. You are a woman of Osraige. You doubtless have an opinion. If you supported the return of the nativekings then it would also mean that you had no motive to kill Dacán.’
Grella’s eyes suddenly flashed angrily.
‘I? I, kill Dacan? How dare you suggest …’ She bit her lip and attempted to control her anger. Then she spoke quietly. ‘Yes, of course I have an opinion. Ciarán’s legacy hangs like a millstone around our necks. But I am no revolutionary to change things.’
Fidelma sat back. She found that she had taken a step forward but it had produced many new mysteries and puzzles.
‘So you provided Dacan with all the ancient texts he needed to help him gather this information for the new king of Laigin to lay a fresh claim for the return of Osraige before the High King?’
Sister Grella did not bother to reply but another thought struck Fidelma.