Brother Buite blinked rapidly. ‘Was Sárait the nurse who was killed?’ he asked in surprise. ‘Sárait who was the wife to Callada?’
‘You knew her?’ Eadulf pressed quickly.
Brother Buite inclined his head. ‘I met her only once. It was Callada, her husband, that I knew. He was a popular fellow. He fought at Cnoc Aine and died there. I saw Sárait when she came in search of his body. I did not realise that she was the nurse who had been killed.’
‘As a matter of interest, do you know how this Callada died?’
Brother Buite glanced suspiciously at Eadulf, who had asked the question.
‘You mean, have I heard of the rumours that spread after the battle? Rumours that he had been found with an Eóghanacht spear in his back? I heard them. Indeed, it was Cathalán who commanded us and who pointed out that a spear has no allegiance — it is the man who wields the spear. Any one — Uí Fidgente or Eóghanacht — could have picked up the spear that transfixed Callada. But I know the rumours persisted.’
‘We are more concerned to hear about your pilgrims and how they fell in with this dwarf who gave his name as Forindain,’ Fidelma interrupted.
‘I will tell you what I know, lady,’ replied the former warrior. ‘My fellow pilgrims and I had reached Cashel, and hearing Bishop Ségdae was there we went to the palace and asked a blessing and permission to continue our pilgrimage to see the holy relics of Ailbe. Then we went to the inn to eat before taking a room there. As I have said, that was when I first saw the dwarf, but there was no indication then that he was a leper. In the morning, Prince Finguine came to the inn and asked if we had been disturbed during the night. Some of us had been awoken by the sounds of warriors moving about. He told us that there had been a killing and that a child was missing.
‘After he left, I went into the yard and found the dwarf. He was, as you say, small and misshapen and clad from poll to toe in his robes. He told me his name was Forindain and that he was also on the road to Imleach. When I told him that was where we were heading, he asked if he could join us. But then he warned me not to come close for he carried the curse of leprosy as well as being malformed from childhood. I said that he was welcome to join us for we are equal under God.’
He paused, as if remembering something else.
The dwarf asked us when we were departing for Imleach. When I said after we had broken our fast, he replied with satisfaction that this was well for he had something to see. When we were ready to depart, he was in the yard and walked some paces behind us. In this fashion, we came to Imleach.’
‘Did this Forindain tell you where he came from?’ asked Eadulf. ‘Did he tell you anything at all about himself?’
Brother Buite shook his head. ‘All I could tell was that he was originally from the kingdom of Laigin.’
‘You learnt nothing else about him?’
‘He kept himself to himself. Whenever anyone came too near, he would jangle that little bell of his as warning. We had our own cares and left him well alone. He followed behind us, always keeping a distance away.’
‘What manner of person was he?’ Fidelma pressed. ‘Happy, outgoing, sad, morose, good-tempered or ill-tempered?’
Brother Buite shrugged. ‘Hard to say. He was not loquacious, that is for sure. He kept his head cowled. I do not think I saw his face once. He was always in shadows. He moved agilely enough, in spite of jerking motions when he walked. He had thick, stubby hands — strong hands. Oh … I had almost forgotten. When he spoke, he spoke with a lisp as if his tongue was too large for his head.’
‘How did this Forindain come to leave you?’ she asked.
The leader of the pilgrims passed his good hand across his chin, as though to brush away an annoying insect.
‘I suppose I assumed that when Forindain said he was on the road to Imleach, he meant that he was coming to the abbey. Outside the township here, he simply bade us farewell. I did ask where he was going. He said that his road now took him further to the west. So we left him at the crossroads outside the town. That was the last we saw of him and that was where our interest in him stopped.’
‘And when did you part company?’
‘About three days ago.’
Fidelma was quiet for a while, nodding silently. Then she suddenly smiled.
‘You have been most helpful, Buite. I need not detain you or your companions.’
Brother Buite hesitated. ‘Do you believe that this Forindain was involved with the murder of Sárait and the kidnapping of…?’ His voice trailed off and he raised a shoulder and let it fall.
Fidelma’s voice was emotionless. ‘Belief is to regard what has been told one as being true. It is to be persuaded without final proof. That is not the task of a dálaigh, Brother Buite of Magh Ghlas. One seeks out truth through fact and not through opinion.’
Brother Buite flushed a little. Eadulf at once felt contrite, and hurried into speech.
‘We are following all leads, however obscure and faint, and hope that somewhere along the way they will turn into those facts that we are looking for. We have questions that this Forindain can answer, that is all. Thank you for being so helpful.’
He smiled reassuringly at him and Brother Buite returned the smile before Brother Madagan ushered him from the chamber. Eadulf turned to Fidelma.
‘Well, at least we know that the dwarf Forindain is not the so-called child seen by Caol, the guard at the palace,’ he said emphatically.
Fidelma raised an eyebrow in query.
‘How so?’
‘Because Forindain had the power of speech, even though Brother Buite claims he spoke strangely, with a lisp. The child who came to the palace was mute. Caol said so.’
‘And how did Caol know?’
Eadulf was impatient, not understanding her point.
‘Because the child produced a note which said it could not speak?’ Fidelma went on. ‘And we must believe this because a note was produced? Belief is not fact, as I have just told Brother Buite.’
Eadulf considered the point. ‘Do you have reason to believe that the child was lying to Caol?’
She shook her head. ‘If the child or the dwarf were part of a plot to kill Sárait or abduct our baby, of course it would be lying. Anyway, nothing should ever be accepted on face value without checking. That is the rule of the Brehon.’
‘An axiom of Brehon Morann?’ replied Eadulf, a little sharply. ‘I know. Well, that does not get us anywhere. This leper has disappeared taking the western road. He might be anywhere now. He might or might not have been the person who delivered the note to Sárait and even if he did he might or might not have been involved in the murder and kidnapping. There are too many ifs and buts. Where do we go from here?’
There was a dry cough from the shadows. They had forgotten Brother Madagan.
‘If I might make a suggestion…?’ The steward came forward smiling. ‘I think your first priority is to refresh yourselves and, as the sky is darkening, to spend the night here before you travel on.’
Fidelma smiled tiredly.
‘A good idea, Brother Madagan. We are too tired to think logically tonight. We will seek refreshment in food and contemplation.’
Brother Madagan turned towards the door.
‘I will order a chamber to be prepared for you,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Your warrior companions can sleep in the guests’ dormitory. Would you like to wash? It will not be long before the bell sounds for the evening meal.’ At the door, he hesitated and turned back. ‘I could not help but hear that you were interested in a dwarf.’
‘A particular dwarf,’ Fidelma said sharply. ‘Why?’
Brother Madagan made a gesture with his shoulder that was not quite a shrug.
‘Only that there was a group of drúth passing through the town a few days ago and there were dwarfs among them.’