She paused for a moment, but no sound was heard in the great hall.
‘Now the woman had a piece of luck,’ Fidelma continued. ‘A traveller came to the inn. He was a travelling player — a crossan — wanting to check out the aspect of the township for his company. He was a dwarf whose name was Forindain. The woman offered him a screpall to take the message to the palace. Forindain was nothing loath to do it. But the woman knew the guards at the palace well and was aware they might ask questions. So she told the dwarf to act as if he were mute. She took from her marsupium a piece of birch bark on which she had already written the words “I am sent to see Sárait”. Therefore he would be asked no questions. This action, however, caused some light to be shed on the woman and while her hood hid her features Forindain saw that she was wearing a very distinctive cloak. He described it to me.’
Caol suddenly raised his voice.
‘That is not so, Fidelma,’ he protested. ‘The dwarf was killed at Cnoc Loinge before anyone could question him. You cannot put words into the mouth of the dead.’
Fidelma paused to let the murmurs die down.
‘The poor dwarf who was killed at Cnoc Loinge was Forindain’s brother, Iubdán, who just happened to be wearing Forindain’s costume. He was mistaken for his brother and thereby lost his life.’
Capa was frowning, and glanced to the dwarf sitting nearby.
‘Are you saying that this…?’ he began.
‘There sits the real Forindain,’ Fidelma pointed to where the small crossan sat, ‘who was in Cashel that evening, and who took the message to Sárait. He is the one who described the distinctive cloak to me. It was a description I immediately recognised, having seen the cloak worn by someone I knew. However, it was obvious that Iubdán had been killed in mistake for Forindain in order to still his tongue as a witness.’
Capa turned, pointing in accusation at Gormán. ‘Gormán was the one who found the dwarf when we were at Cnoc Loinge.’
‘I did find the body,’ Gormán muttered, ‘but I immediately sent word to Capa.’
‘I remember,’ said Fidelma solemnly. ‘Let us turn to the matter of the cloak.’ She bent to a bundle and extracted the red and green silk garment and held it up. A murmur rippled through the hall.
‘That is the whore’s cloak!’ Gobnat suddenly yelled and for a moment everyone was in confusion until the Brehon Baithen brought them all to silence again.
‘You recognise it, Gobnat?’ asked Fidelma.
‘I can attest to having seen that whore wearing it. So they are both in this together. They killed my sister!’
Fidelma nodded and laid the cloak down. She then picked up two baby shoes.
‘When we asked for proof of Alchú’s abduction, we were sent a baby shoe that belonged to him. The other I found with the green and red cloak. Both were buried in Delia’s yard.’
There were now angry shouts and threatening gestures, directed at Gormán and the former bé-táide. Again the Brehon Baithen called sternly for silence and when the noise died away Fidelma continued once more.
‘It was a dog that finally solved this murder,’ Fidelma said evenly, and then turned to Delia and Gormán. ‘Delia, I am sorry to have put you through this ordeal. You also, Gormán. Delia and Gormán were not involved in this affair although several actions of theirs made me suspicious of them, my distrust being compounded by the fact that the real culprits — or one of them at least — did their best to lay a false trail to Delia out of spite and hatred. Delia and Gormán share a love … but it is the love of mother for son and son for mother. Is it not so?’
There was no need to ask the question. The faces of mother and son affirmed the truth. The silence that descended was almost unearthly. Everyone seemed to be holding their collective breath while awaiting any new revelation Fidelma might make.
Brehon Baithen leant forward from his chair. ‘Are you going to eventually name the guilty one, Fidelma?’ he asked softly, a faint note of sarcasm in his voice.
She swung round with raised brows. ‘Is it not obvious? Gobnat killed her own sister because it was her husband, Capa, who was enamoured of Sárait. It was Capa who killed Callada and who raped Sárait. Having then discovered that his wife had killed Sárait, Capa did everything to lead suspicion away from her, even to the point of killing the dwarf Iubdán whom he had mistaken for Forindain.’
Gobnat began to protest shrilly, calling Fidelma worse than a whore to protect her whoring friend. It needed firmness to restore order, as well as some of the guards, who now took their orders from Caol. Brehon Baithen was looking baffled.
‘For those who do not possess the quickness of your mind, Fidelma, perhaps you would share those of its processes that have led you to make this accusation?’
‘I am prepared to do so. I said in my opening that there were two sisters, Gobnáit and Sárait. They were very different in character, although both married warriors. But while Capa was married to Gobnat he lusted after her younger sister. He felt that the only thing that stood in the way of a consummation of that lust was Callada. He killed Callada at Cnoc Áine. Then, having thought that his path was clear, he found Sárait revolted by him. He raped her. The rest of her story I have told you.
‘Sárait had not only confided in Delia — without naming Capa, of course — but had made the mistake of confiding in her sister, from whom one might have expected a close sympathy and understanding. Gobnat, to whom Capa had not been able to resist boasting of his subjection of her sister, became enraged. Despising Delia as she did, she decided to strike down Sárait in such a way that guilt and punishment might be laid at Delia’s door. The object of Capa’s jealousy, Gormán, whom Gobnat suspected of being Delia’s lover, would therefore also be implicated.’
Brehon Baithen rubbed his chin. ‘What made you suspect that Gormán was Delia’s son?’
‘From the first Gormán told Eadulf and me that he was the son of a prostitute. When I went to see Delia, she mentioned that she was a mother. The connection became easy to work out. In fact, Gormán told us that he thought Capa disliked him because his mother was a prostitute. That was only partially true. Capa also knew that Sárait had become fond of Gormán while she rejected his own attentions. So he tried to implicate Gormán in the killing of the dwarf. Capa felt he had to kill Forindain, by the way, because he thought the dwarf might have been able to identify his wife. He could not be sure that the dwarf had not seen her face in the lantern light of the inn.’
‘What I can’t understand is why did Gobnat go to the trouble that you have described when she must have had countless opportunities to kill her sister without evolving such an ingenious plot?’ Baithen pondered.
‘As I say, she wanted to absolve herself of any implication in it, and to implicate Delia. To that end, she stole Delia’s cloak, a distinctive garment. Then came the charade of sending the message to the palace. If anyone saw her, she could be sure that it was not Gobnat who would be described. Someone in rich silk, indeed, when Gobnat dressed so austerely.’