Fidelma was not surprised that Midach could be Necht’s foster-father. It was quite common for children to be sent away from home for their education at the age of seven. The process was known as fostering and the foster-parents were required to maintain their fosterlings according to their rank and provide education for them. A girl would often complete her education by the age of fourteen, although some, such as Fidelma herself, could continue to seventeen. Yet fourteen was the age of choice and maturity for a girl. A boy would continue until he was seventeen. Fosterage was a legal contract regarded as being of benefit to both households. There were two types of fosterage in law. One was for ‘affection’ in which no fees were exchanged. The other was where the natural parents paid for the fosterage of their child. Fosterage was the principle method of educating children in society.
‘Are you sure he said he was foster-father?’
‘The term datán was definitely used.’
It was the legal term one used for a foster-father.
‘Did you know that Midach was foster-father to Sister Necht?’
Martan shook his head.
‘Just what did you think that Brother Midach’s relationship was?’ she prompted.
‘To Necht?’
‘Precisely.’
‘Midach was Necht’s anamchara, her soul-friend. That is all I know. As such they were friendly and close with one another.’
‘So Midach obviously felt responsible for Necht?’
‘I suppose so,’ agreed Martan.
‘Did it surprise you that Dacán would accuse Midach of such an affair? Dacán had a reputation of a man of aloof serenity. What made him suddenly attack Midach?’
‘He was no saint. He was a strange, ill-tempered man who tested Midach’s temper to the extreme,’ replied Martan. ‘All I know is that I overheard Midach reacting badly. He told Dacan not to interfere and if he continued to do so and insult Midach, then Midach would …’
He paused and his eyes rounded as he realised what he was about to say.
‘Go on,’ urged Fidelma. ‘He obviously threatened physical violence.’
‘Midach said he would kill him,’ agreed Martan softly.
There was a pause.
‘Do you think he meant it?’
‘I do not,’ protested the apothecary. ‘Nor do I set myself to judge other people in their personal habits of life. If that was the way of it, that was the way of it. Midach would harm no one.’
‘That’s not what Midach himself threatened,’ observed Fidelma dryly. ‘When you learnt of Dacán’s death just one day after this argument, did you not find it worrying? Ipresume that you made no mention of it to Brother Rumann, who had charge of the investigation?’
A tinge of colour edged Martan’s cheeks.
‘I did not report it as I did not believe it of relevance. Midach was not in the abbey when Dacán’s body had been found. If you are asking me to say that I suspect Midach of murder, I shall not. Midach is a man who loves life and enjoys life. He would no more think of destroying another life than he would of taking his own life.’
‘So you did not mention this matter to Rumann?’ observed Fidelma. ‘What made you mention the matter now?’
Martan coloured.
‘I wish I had not. My only thought was that you should both know that Dacán was not the saintly man most people supposed. He could accuse people unjustly.’
‘And all this came about because Dacan originally accused Midach of going through his notes and writings in the library?’
‘Midach denied that also,’ Martan reminded her.
‘Then one more thing. You say that Midach had left the abbey on the evening before Dacán was killed. He returned six days later, so I am told. Do you know why he left and where he went?’
Martan shook his head.
‘I know it was not a journey that was planned. He went by boat. It was probably some medical emergency in one of the villages. It often happens.’
‘What makes you think it was not planned?’
‘Because he told no one except Sister Necht, who came to inform Brother Tóla only after he had left the abbey.’
‘When was that?’
‘Just before the completa. He must have sailed on the evening tide or he could not have gone until mid-morning on the next day.’
Fidelma’s narrowed.
‘You are sure of this time?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Well,’ Fidelma leant back, ‘I think you have been of considerable help to us, Martan. You may go but I would appreciate it if you did not mention our discussion to anyone … especially to Brother Midach. Do you understand?’
Martan rose uncertainly.
‘I think so, sister. I just hope I have not said the wrong thing …’
‘How can truth be the wrong thing to say?’ inquired Fidelma gravely.
Chapter Twelve
The next morning, as Sister Fidelma was on her way to the library to see if Sister Grella had returned, she received a summons to Abbot Brocc’s chambers.
‘Cousin, I have a messenger leaving for Cashel this afternoon. I wondered whether you might like to take the opportunity to send messages to your brother?’
Fidelma was just about to make a negative reply when an idea occurred to her.
‘Yes. I want my brother to contact the Chief Brehon so that he may order the attendance of the Laigin merchant, Assíd of Uí Dego, at the assembly when the matter of the death of Dacán is heard. It is essential that some questions are put to Assid.’
‘Assid? The merchant who was staying here on the night Dacan was murdered?’ A hope sprang into Brocc’s eyes. ‘Do you think that Assíd … do you think that he may be responsible …?’
She disappointed him by shaking her head.
‘All I require is his presence at the hearing.’
Brocc’s look of hope relapsed into a worried frown.
‘Ah, I thought at least one mystery might now be solved.’
‘One mystery?’ Fidelma caught the nuance.
‘I am given to understand that you were looking for Sister Grella last night?’
‘That is so. What has happened to Sister Grella?’ she asked with foreboding.
‘I wished that I knew. Sister Grella has not been seen sinceshortly after vespers yesterday. The library has not been opened this morning and Brother Rumann tells me that there was no sign of her chamber being slept in. He inquired of Brother Conghus who then told him that you were making inquiries about her last night.’
Fidelma sat down in front of the abbot’s table before continuing. ‘Has she ever disappeared before?’
‘Not to my knowledge,’ replied the abbot. ‘All this is most distressing, cousin. First, we have Dacán’s death; then Sister Eisten is found murdered and now Sister Grella is missing. What am I to make of all this?’
Fidelma momentarily felt sorry for her pompous cousin. He looked like a lost, helpless child, needing someone to tell him what to do.
‘I only wish that I could help you, Brocc. At this moment, I am equally as bewildered. But there are some things that I wish to ask you and which I want treated in absolute confidence.’
The abbot waited expectantly.
‘Do you know much of Brother Midach’s background?’
‘Brother Midach?’ Brocc sounded surprised. ‘He is a good physician. He has been at Ros Ailithir for four years. Let’s see … he came to us from the abbey at Cealla.’
‘And Sister Necht?’
‘She came to the abbey about six months ago.’
‘Also from Cealla?’
‘No. Whatever gave you that idea? I think she came from a village not far from here. Why don’t you question her?’
‘It was a passing thought.’ Fidelma was disappointed. ‘I thought that there was some connection between Midach and Necht.’
‘Well, he did introduce her to the abbey, that is true. He attended her father in one of the villages and when her father died, leaving her an orphan, Midach proposed her induction as a novice here. I believe that he still acts as her soul-friend.’