The abbess cleared her throat. ‘After you left, I realised that I should at least report my presence to Abbot Ségdae, for you told me that he was at the palace.’
‘Of course. The guard mentioned that you came up on foot,’ Fidelma said, with an air of innocence. ‘It is surely tiring to do so when you could have ridden up?’
‘The horses were fatigued.’ There was a sudden edge to the abbess’ tone, which was unexpected. Seeing their expressions, she added less abruptly, ‘We thought to rest them and saw a youth by the track. We asked him to remain with our horses while we climbed up to the palace.’
‘Ah, so you saw the abbot?’ Eadulf asked.
Abbess Líoch shook her head quickly. ‘He was nowhere to be found, and so we returned to get our mounts and look for somewhere to stay in the town.’
‘A wasted journey, then?’ commented Fidelma.
‘Just so,’ replied the abbess dryly.
‘Come,’ Fidelma said, turning her horse back towards the palace. ‘Let us get you settled at our guest quarters. At least we can offer you better food than you might otherwise find in the township.’
After a moment or two, during which Eadulf wondered whether the abbess might refuse, she and her companion also turned their horses. Eadulf also wondered whether Fidelma was going to neglect the purpose of their seeking out of Abbess Líoch until later, but Fidelma suddenly said: ‘My brother and, indeed, Abbot Ségdae, are perplexed about this deputation. You said that the Saxon emissary, Brother Cerdic, came to your abbey and suggested you attend?’
‘I did,’ frowned the abbess.
‘We have no understanding of why this Bishop Arwald should be coming here. Did Brother Cerdic mention the reason for this visit?’
‘Only that they came with some ecclesiastical authority.’
‘Interesting that he stopped at your abbey before he journeyed on to Imleach to see Abbot Ségdae.’
The abbess was keeping her gaze firmly on the track before her, as if concentrating on guiding her horse.
‘He came from Laighin, therefore Cill Náile lies on the road before Imleach,’ she pointed out. ‘It is natural he and Brother Rónán would pass it before they went on to Imleach.’
‘Of course,’ agreed Fidelma lightly. ‘However, why would he have come to you with this request? You gave me the impression earlier this morning that it was a specific request for you to attend.’
Abbess Líoch tutted in annoyance and Fidelma gave her an apologetic smile. ‘You must forgive me, my friend,’ she said soothingly. ‘You know that I am a dálaigh, and isn’t it a lawyer’s manner to ask silly questions? Questions are now second nature to me but I have no wish to pry in matters that are not my affair.’
‘I have no wish to give the impression that I resent your questions,’ Abbess Líoch said.
‘So, apart from geography, why would Brother Cerdic call at Cill Náile and ask you specifically to attend this council?’
Abbess Líoch thought for a moment. ‘I can only presume that he had heard that I had lived and worked in the Kingdom of Oswy of Northumbria. Perhaps he thought I could be useful, for I have some knowledge of the tongue of his people.’
‘Indeed. So you had not met Brother Cerdic during your time in Oswy’s Kingdom? I remember that you were in our party when we crossed to I-Shona and came with us on the journey to Streonshalh. As I recall, you did not accompany us to Hilda’s abbey and attend the council. Didn’t you decide to stay and work in a place. .?’
‘Laestingau,’ supplied the abbess. Her voice was sharp. ‘The Abbey of Laestingau. In answer to your first query, no, I had not met Brother Cerdic before he arrived at Cill Náile. Why do you ask these questions, Fidelma?’
Fidelma turned and looked at her. She said quietly: ‘I do not want to cause you alarm but I must tell you that Brother Cerdic has been found murdered.’
Abbess Líoch pulled on her horse’s reins so roughly that the animal whinnied in protest and its forelegs kicked at the air in front of it before returning to a standstill. Her face was white, and she looked in the direction of Sister Dianaimh, who remained silent although it was clear from her expression that she was troubled.
‘I presume that you did not see Brother Cerdic when you came to the palace to look for Abbot Ségdae?’ Fidelma went on, apparently ignoring their reaction.
‘We did not,’ replied the abbess immediately. ‘Are you saying he has only recently been found?’
‘He was found dead in the chapel,’ Eadulf confirmed. ‘I found him.’
‘And he was murdered, you say?’
‘Stabbed to death,’ confirmed Eadulf, deciding to leave aside the fact that his throat had been cut.
‘That will cast a blight over this visit,’ muttered Abbess Líoch.
‘Whatever this visit is about,’ Fidelma said, adding, ‘I was hoping that you might be able to shed some light on it, as no one else seems able to do so.’
‘I can tell you no more than I have already. All I know is that this deputation is coming to discuss some matters with the King and our Chief Bishop, Abbot Ségdae of Imleach. The rest is beyond my understanding.’
‘I hoped that you might know more. No matter. I presume you saw nothing while you were looking for Abbot Ségdae?’
‘What, for instance?’
‘Perhaps you went near the chapel?’ Fidelma suggested. ‘You might have seen someone nearby; someone entering or leaving?’
‘We saw no one,’ the woman replied firmly.
They had reached the gates of the palace and Luan, still on guard duty, came forward.
‘Get the echaire, the stable-master, to take our guests’ horses,’ instructed Fidelma. ‘Then send someone to find Beccan so that he may arrange accommodation for the abbess and her steward.’
A few moments later, Fidelma and Eadulf watched as Beccan conducted the abbess and her companion away towards the guest quarters.
‘Do you believe her?’ Eadulf asked.
Fidelma sighed. ‘It will not help us at this stage to confront her. What should we confront her with, anyway? Something is definitely not right here. . yet the Líoch I knew was never given to subterfuge. However, I have not seen much of her since she returned from Oswy’s Kingdom and became Abbess of Cill Náile. She appears to have changed considerably. The carefree young girl I knew has gone. She seems so morose! You noted the black mantle she now wears, and her manner of speaking to me as if she is speaking to a stranger?’
‘And was that how she greeted you earlier when she met you and Alchú on the track here?’
‘It was, although I did not set any store by it then.’
‘And now?’
‘There is little we can do until we obtain some more information.’
‘We can question her companion,’ Eadulf suggested. ‘If Abbess Líoch is not forthcoming, perhaps she will be.’
‘Sister Dianaimh? The bann-mhaor is so quiet, it’s as if she is but a shadow. You would almost think that she did not exist. She has a strange name — one that I have not encountered before.’ Fidelma grimaced without humour. ‘It’s a Laighin name, and means “Flawless One”. She should have been named “Silent One”. Well, I suppose there is little we can do but find out if anyone was seen lurking around the chapel when you were in there. You said that Brother Conchobhar didn’t see anything?’
‘Nothing. You know — Aillín is right,’ Eadulf suddenly declared.
Fidelma turned to him. ‘Right about what?’
‘If I were in his place, I would suspect me.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she snapped.
‘You forget that I am an Angle. I could easily have known Brother Cerdic before. I know something of the kingdom from which his bishop comes. Who is to say that I did not know him or anything about this curious deputation?’
Fidelma suddenly chuckled, causing Eadulf to look puzzled.