‘Someone who, like Midach, believed that Dacán meant harm to the children of Illan.’
There was a silence as everyone realised, after all the proceedings, they were now on the verge of the final revelation.
Fidelma was surprised at the fact that no one had leapt to the same conclusion that she had been drawn to some time before. When no one spoke, when no one moved, Fidelma shook her head.
‘Why — who else but the children of Illan would feel threatened by Dacan?’ she asked. ‘Who else but the eldest son of Illan, who was more threatened than his brothers?’
Everyone was looking at the young boy Cétach.
‘But you have just stated that these two boys were still on Sceilig Mhichil at this time. They were at least two or three days sailing away from Ros Ailithir,’ Barrán pointed out.
‘I did not say it was either of these two boys,’ Fidelma said loudly above the hubbub.
Again the effect of her words was like water on a fire. There was stunned silence.
‘But, you said …’ began the Chief Brehon wearily.
‘I said that the eldest of Illan’s sons killed Dacan.’
‘Then …?’
‘Illan had three sons. Isn’t that right, Midach? Dacán, in his letter to his brother, wrote that Illan’s eldest son had just reached the age of choice. That rules out these two lads, who are a long way from the age of seventeen. That also means that Illan had a third son.’
‘You seem to know everything, Fidelma,’ Midach said grimly. ‘Yes. My cousin Illan had three sons. They were all placed in my charge to foster when Illan was killed. The two youngest had already been sent to Sceilig Mhichil to our cousin, Mel. Indeed, everything happened just as you have explained.’
‘So where did you send the eldest son?’ demanded Barran.
Midach set his jaw firmly.
‘I cannot betray the trust of my family.’
‘The eldest son was brought to Ros Ailithir under a false identity,’ Fidelma intervened.
She turned and scanned the rows of the religious who hadcrowded into the abbey church and found the white mask that was the face of Sister Necht.
‘Come forward, Sister Necht, or should that be Nechtan?’ Fidelma added, making the feminine name into its masculine form.
The ungainly ‘sister’ rose, the eyes darted from side to side as if seeking a method of escape, and then the shoulders slumped in resignation.
A tall member of the High King’s guard moved across and tapped the ‘sister’ on the shoulder, motioning ‘her’ to go to the well of the court before the judges. Slowly, reluctantly, ‘Sister Necht’ obeyed.
Not a sound could be heard as all eyes watched the figure walk slowly to where Fidelma was waiting. There seemed no attempt now to disguise the masculine posture of the ‘novice’.
‘Allow me to present Nechtan, son of Illan of the Osraige. Nechtan is the eldest brother of Cétach and Cosrach.’
‘Sister Necht’ squared ‘her’ shoulders and thrust out ‘her’ chin in defiance as ‘she’ stood before Fidelma.
‘Would you mind moving your head-dress?’ asked Barrán.
‘Sister Necht’ threw back the head-dress.
‘The hair is coppery, almost red,’ Forbassach admitted in querulous tones. ‘But this … this person … still looks like a girl.’
‘Do we have to go further with this charade, Nechtan?’ asked Fidelma. ‘Speak the truth.’
‘It is all over, my boy,’ cried Midach in doleful resignation. ‘Let us admit to the truth.’
The copper-haired youth stared at Fidelma almost with hatred in his eyes.
‘Yes: I am Nechtan, son of Illan,’ he said with an air of pride.
‘It was all my idea,’ Midach explained hastily. ‘I did not know what else to do. I knew that Scandlán and his family were looking for Illan’s heir. I had already seen Illan’s will and knew the boys were left in my care and that the younger weresupposed to go to Sceilig Mhichil. I thought that they would be safe on Sceilig Mhichil. But I did not know where else to hide Nechtan, but then the idea came into my mind that he could hide himself at the abbey as a novice and so I could keep a close eye on him. Those searching for the heirs of Illan were searching for his sons, not for a girl.’
‘Although just seventeen, Nechtan, with his husky voice and slight figure, became a young woman,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘With the sprigs and berries of the elder to use as dye and create a redness to the lips and cheeks, Nechtan became Sister Necht.’
‘I initially thought that Dacán was an agent for Scandlán,’ went on Midach. ‘When I discovered that he had deciphered Illan’s will, I left the abbey immediately to bring them away before they were discovered. I brought the two boys back and arranged for Sister Eisten to take them at Rae na Scríne. It was only after I returned to the abbey that I discovered that Dacán had been killed.’
‘And when did Nechtan confess that he had killed him?’ demanded Fidelma.
‘The next …’ Midach bit his lip and hung his head. Nechtan stared in front of him without speaking, showing no emotion.
The Chief Brehon leant forward.
‘Why did the boy kill Dacán?’ demanded Barrán. ‘Let us finally get this point cleared.’
Fidelma grimaced sorrowfully.
‘Sister Necht, or rather Nechtan, killed Dacán out of fear. Midach, before leaving for Sceilig Mhichil, had told him that he believed Dacán was working for his enemies. Necht already hated Dacan as an autocratic, uncaring personality. It needed but a spark. A few hours after Midach left to rescue his brothers, Nechtan slew Dacan. I do not think that the act was cold-blooded. It was only after the deed was done that Nechtan sought to portray it as something premeditated.’
‘What do you mean?’ demanded Barrán.
‘Nechtan killed Dacan and later attempted to lay a pathhich would lead to another person in an effort to have that person blamed.’
‘How?’
‘After Midach had left the abbey, Nechtan was summoned to Dacán’s chamber to fetch water. Perhaps words were exchanged. Nechtan took out a knife and, in hot temper, rained a series of blows at the old man.’
‘He suspected who I was, I know it!’ Nechtan protested, speaking for the first time. The previously husky voice was now slightly sharpened and more masculine. There was no emotion in it. ‘It was my life or his. He would have killed me if he had known who I was.’
Forbassach was sitting shaking his head in bewilderment. Fidelma gestured towards him.
‘You may believe the honourable advocate for Laigin when he argues that Dacán and Laigin meant no harm to the children of Illan,’ Fidelma said. ‘So you, Nechtan, killed Dacán from an unjustified fear. Dacán was seeking you in order to get Laigin to support your claim to the Osraige kingship. It can be argued that you had an understandable fear. But what made this more heinous, Nechtan, was that you then went to great pains to lay a path to Sister Grella.’
‘I knew that Sister Grella was working with Dacán. I also knew that Grella was Salbach’s lover,’ Nechtan replied defensively. ‘When Midach went to save my brothers, I decided to save us all. If Grella was accused of Dacán’s murder then it would be a just retribution.’
‘You tried to destroy all the material that Dacan collected which would have identified you and your brothers. You did not realise that Grella had taken a draft of the letter Dacán was sending to his brother so that she could inform Salbach. Also you neglected to retrieve an Ogham wand which had rolled under the bed in Dacán’s chamber. You showed great dismay when I found it. You had to follow me when I took it to Grella in the library to check it was not incriminating. Grella recognisedit and pretended that it was something else to lead me from the scent. I left it at the library and, later that night, you returned to the library and burnt it with the other Ogham sticks in order to cover your tracks.’
‘But Dacán was bound before he was killed,’ pointed out the Chief Brehon. ‘How did this boy accomplish that?’