‘Can you recall our last meeting?’ Delia prompted suddenly.
‘I can,’ Fidelma confirmed.
The older woman sighed. ‘You were kind in ensuring that I was compensated when my house was smashed by the warriors of Donennach while I was hiding Brother Mochta and the holy relics of Ailbe.’
‘But do you remember what you said as we parted?’
‘That I also remember well. I said that solitude was the best society and a short abstinence from solitude urges the sweet return to it.’
Fidelma nodded, having remembered the words well. ‘And I replied that we are all of us condemned to solitude but some of our sheltering walls are merely our own skins and thus there is no door to exit from solitude into life.’
Delia was regarding her with sympathy.
‘You have felt solitude since your baby was stolen?’
Fidelma felt a sudden anguish, like a pain in her stomach. She did her best to disguise it; to ignore it.
‘I need to ask you a question, Delia.’
‘You do not need my permission to ask it.’
‘Then let me remind you of an unpleasant time, for it is necessary to my question. Do you recall when I represented you when you sought compensation-’
‘I remember how you defended me, yes,’ replied Delia shortly.
‘You came to the court wearing a green silk cloak with a hood. It was enriched with red embroidery and fastened by a clasp of bejewelled silver. It was quite beautiful.’
Delia looked at her thoughtfully and nodded.
‘Do you still have that robe?’
Delia hesitated a moment and then bowed her head in affirmation. ‘I have not worn it since I gave up being … gave up being a bé-táide”
‘But you still have it?’
‘I have.’
‘Will you show it to me?’
Again Delia hesitated and then shrugged. She stood up and went to a wooden chest in the corner of the room and bent down to open it. It seemed to be full of clothes and she began to take them out and lay them on the ground. They were rich garments and Fidelma did not have to ask how Delia had accumulated them. They were the memories of her past life.
Suddenly she heard Delia’s sharp intake of breath.
‘What is it?’ she demanded.
‘I don’t know. I think someone has been looking through this chest. One of the dresses is torn, the sewing ripped at the seam. It was not like that when I packed these clothes away.’
‘Which was when?’
‘Just after the case in which you defended me. I have not wanted these garments of my past life since then.’
‘Find the green silk cloak.’
Fidelma’s voice was suddenly harsh. Delia glanced questioningly at her and then bent again to the trunk. When she had turned everything out she sat back on the floor with a puzzled expression.
‘It is not here.’
Fidelma sighed deeply. ‘I rather suspected that it might not be.’
Delia looked at her with a deepening frown.
‘What do you mean? I think you owe me some explanation,’ she demanded.
‘Delia, where were you on the night that Sárait was killed?’
The woman’s lips trembled a little.
‘Am I being accused of something?’
‘Please, Delia.’ Fidelma’s voice was now soft and coaxing. In other circumstances she would have been harsh, demanding, but she knew Delia too well. ‘I will explain if you answer a couple of questions.’
‘So far as I recall, I was here. I am usually here.’
‘Can anyone vouch for that?’
Delia seemed to hesitate a moment and then shook her head. ‘I was alone.’
Something made Fidelma feel that her friend was not being truthful. She decided to let it pass for the moment.
‘When was the last time that you saw your green cloak?’
‘As I have said, I put it away in this chest when I ceased to be a bé-táide, which was, as you know, three years ago. I have not bothered to look at it since.’
‘Why keep it, then? You could have sold it. It is a very valuable cloak.’
Delia shrugged. ‘We do many things in life that are not logical, lady. You have seen these clothes that I have kept. They are a reminder of times past… to remind myself of what I was.’
‘You are not aware of anyone breaking into your house? Perhaps the cloak could have been stolen?’
Delia shook her head. ‘There is no reason why anyone should break in here. I never keep a locked door — it is open to anyone to come and go as they please.’
‘And you have left the house with the door unlocked?’
Fidelma well knew that locking doors was not a custom among the local people. However, the doors of nobles and professionals were secured on either side by a bolt or more usually by an iron lock — a glais iarnaidhi. When the Blessed Colmcille went to preach to the pagan King Brude of the Picts, he found that the king had caused all the doors of his fortress to be locked against him. Colmcille uttered a prayer which caused the iron locks to be miraculously opened. Why she suddenly thought of the story, she did not know.
‘I always leave my door unlocked. Only at night, I draw the bolt shut.’
‘So anyone might have come in at any time and taken the cloak?’
‘I suppose so. Now, are you going to tell me what this is all about?’
Fidelma compressed her lips for a moment.
‘On the night Sárait died and my baby was taken, she was lured from the palace by a false message. A dwarf went to her and told her that her sister wanted to see her urgently.’
‘Gobnat? She hardly spoke to her sister.’
‘You know her that well?’
‘Everyone in the township knows her. Gobnat is one of those righteous women who still refuse to acknowledge my existence. She is supposed to be very moral, a pillar of the Faith.’
Fidelma stretched before the fire.
‘You sound as if you do not like her?’
‘I am merely irritated by her attitude. But then many people are.’
Fidelma looked at Delia curiously. ‘What do you mean?’
Delia shrugged quickly. ‘I mean her inflated self-esteem as if she is far better than other women here. Her conceit has grown immensely now that her husband, Capa, is captain of the élite warriors that guard your brother.’
‘My mentor, the Brehon Morann, used to say that pride is but a mask covering one’s own faults.’
Delia smiled humorously. ‘If anyone has a true reason for pride, it is you, Fidelma. You are wise and learned and your deeds are known in all five kingdoms of Éireann.’
Fidelma shook her head. ‘When I went to attend the law school of Brehon Morann, the first thing I had to do was part with self-conceit. Admitting one knew nothing and would never know more than a fraction even if one spent an entire life in contemplation and study, was the start of learning. Otherwise it would have been impossible to learn even what I thought I already knew.’
Delia tried to bring Fidelma’s mind back to the matter in hand.
‘You mentioned that a dwarf went to the palace. Are you trying to track down this dwarf?’
Fidelma smiled thinly. ‘I have already done so. He told me a story that I believe. I believe it because the poor creature’s brother paid for its veracity with his life.’
‘And that story is?’
‘That the dwarf was passing through Cashel on that night and was asked to deliver the message to Sárait by a woman — a woman dressed in a green silk cloak, enriched with red embroidery.’
She was watching Delia’s face carefully. She was surprised to see a look of relief relax her features.
‘Then the dwarf will be able to identify the wearer of this garment and prove who it was.’
‘Not exactly,’ replied Fidelma. ‘You see, while the light of a lamp fell on the woman’s clothing, it did not reveal her features. All he could see was that she was not youthful but had a good figure. The woman paid him to take the message to Sárait.’