Fidelma was taken aback. She had not been prepared for the honesty of the reply. There was a long silence.
‘Let us move forward to something that is not in contention,’ she said at last. ‘Sárait had a stillborn child. It was born so long after Cnoc Áine that it could not have been the child of her husband Callada.’
Delia sat back, watching Fidelma carefully, but said nothing.
‘Clearly, the baby was conceived after her husband met his death. Was the child born of the rape?’
Delia hesitated.
‘It is important, Delia,’ Fidelma pressed. ‘I do not ask with frivolous intent. I believe that the father of her child was her killer.’
Delia stared in horror. ‘What about the Uí Fidgente and the ransom?’
‘A cunning ruse to set people on the wrong track. Linked with an accident of fate by which wandering strangers found the baby when it had been left to die in the woods, it did indeed lead me down the wrong path for a while.’
Delia was quiet for a few moments and then she shrugged.
‘You have presumed correctly, lady. The stillborn child was the result of the rape and Sárait was thankful that it died.’
Fidelma exhaled slowly. ‘It is sad that one gives thanks for the extinguishing of life. But I can understand her feelings. When did you know about this?’
‘I told you that Sárait first came to me within days of the rape to seek my advice — or rather she needed to talk to someone who would understand and not condemn her.’
‘Why not discuss this with her sister, Gobnat?’
‘Gobnat, as I have already said, was prudish. She would not have been the best of people to confide in. Sárait felt easier speaking to me. It was two months later that she came to me and said she was with child.’
‘And she told you her condition resulted from the rape? But she did not tell you who the father was?’
Delia nodded. ‘She could not stand it. She wanted to know how she might get rid of it before it was born.’
‘And you advised her?’
‘Do you mean that I, as a bé-táide, would naturally know of these things?’ There was some bitterness in Delia’s voice.
‘I do not mean that,’ snapped Fidelma. ‘I have looked at the Pharmacopoeia of Dioscorides and could probably name the eight herbs that he maintains induce a state whereby the unwanted pregnancy is aborted. I am simply asking whether you advised her.’
Delia blinked. ‘I advised her and I gave her some of the plants that I have used, those which are diuretics and laxatives. I used to buy rue from the merchants of Gaul and take it as an infusion, mixing it with water.’
‘But these remedies did not work.’
‘Obviously. And I advised Sárait against going to the physicians who would butcher her body. So she had the child.’
Fidelma was frowning. ‘Yet surely someone at Cashel would have known, would have suspected.’
Delia shook her head quickly. ‘She did not look pregnant. And when she realised that soon she would not be able to disguise it, I sent her to a cousin of mine who lived up in the mountains at Araglin. She stayed there some months.’
Fidelma raised her head slightly. ‘Araglin? I know that place.’
‘Well, she stayed there for a while, had the child and, as you know, it was stillborn. It was buried there in the mountains, and when she was well Sárait returned to Cashel. She was still lactating for her child. I heard that you were in search of a wet nurse and sent her to you.’
‘She never told me that you had sent her.’
‘I did not want to embarrass you, lady. I told her to present herself to you as the widow of Callada the warrior, which I considered was recommendation enough.’
‘It was. And that was why I assumed that her dead child was his. I had not realised what time had passed … Ah! Well, too late to dwell on past mistakes. Things become clearer.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘You may have to come to the palace, Delia, and give your evidence before the Brehon. Will you do that?’
‘If it helps to identify who killed Sárait and who was behind your baby’s going missing all this time.’
Fidelma rose and smiled. ‘If my suspicions are correct, we will soon identify that person. The question will be whether we can convict them.’
She suddenly frowned, holding her head to one side. There was a snuffling outside, and the whimpering of a dog. Both she and Delia went to the door. A brown wire-haired hound was digging away in a corner. Fidelma had seen it before.
Delia opened her mouth to shout to scare it away but Fidelma stayed her. The hound was throwing up earth in a feverish attempt to dig something up. Then with a yelp of triumph its muzzle went down and it drew something from the hole. It described a crazy circle and then, as if in a gesture of victory, it threw the object up in the air and caught it again.
Fidelma went into a crouching position and called in coaxing fashion to the dog, stretching out her hands. The animal bounded over and dropped the item at her feet, then backed away, head down, paws splayed, obviously expecting her to throw it for it to retrieve again. Instead, she rose to her feet and turned the earth-soiled object over in her hands.
It was a baby’s shoe, the companion of the one that had been brought to her by Gormán. It was Alchú’s missing shoe.
Fidelma had seen something else in the hole and she walked over to it, accompanied by the yapping dog, and stared down. Then she bent and began to pull some material out of the earth. It was green and red silk and was obviously a cloak with hood attached. She glanced back to where Delia stood.
Delia was staring at it, her facing seeming to drain of blood.
Fidelma stared at her long and hard.
‘I think that you had better walk back with me to the palace, Delia. We have much to talk over.’
Chapter Nineteen
The great hall of the palace of Cashel was thronged with people. The Brehon Baithen had arrived from Lios Mhór and Colgú, in agreement with Fidelma, had announced that a special court would be held which would clarify the abduction of Alchú and the murder of Sárait. It seemed that the whole of Cashel and the surrounding countryside had come to hear the new Chief Brehon of Muman give judgement in the matter.
The witnesses had been gathered and seated. Forindain the dwarf, Corb and Corbnait, Nessán and Muirgen, Conchoille the woodsman; everyone who had been connected with the events was packed into the great hall. Delia was there, sitting grim-faced, and next to her, looking equally grim, was Gormán. Gobnat, Sárait’s sister, was also there, glowering at Delia. Her husband Capa, as guard commander, was in charge of the warriors, with Caol at his side. Even the old apothecary, Conchobar, who never attended such hearings unless absolutely necessary, had come to see the proceedings.
The guards had also led in Fiachrae of Cnoc Loinge, now a prisoner, who would later have to answer charges of betraying the Eóghanacht and working with the Uí Fidgente to overthrow Colgú. Enough witnesses had now come forward to make the case against him certain.
By special invitation of the king, Conrí was there with his Uí Fidgente warriors, towards whom many dirty looks were cast and muttering threats made. Even the old Brehon Dathal had entered the hall and made for the seat of the Chief Brehon before an embarrassed rechtaire or steward had guided him to a side chair.
Fidelma and Eadulf had already taken their seats just to the left of the chairs of office that the king, the tanist and the Chief Brehon would occupy. Cerball the bard, and Bishop Ségdae, had taken their seats. Then the rechtaire banged his staff of office and everyone rose as Colgú, Finguine and Brehon Baithen entered and seated themselves.